#I must be being led on because what do I have that could entrance her like

[chibelial]

.

[whxre-bxby]

what if, for ‘This Is What You Came For’ part 2 Quaritch gets his turn with you, while all the other recoms are there to watch 👀

FUCK YEAH BABY HERE WE GO THIS SHIT TOOK ME HOURS!

“This Is What You Came For” Pt.2 

The Teasing Never Stops

"This Is What You Came For" 1

Masterlist

WARNINGS: SMUT, angst, tiniest little bit of fluff if you squint, Non-con, ABSOLUTE HUMILIATION AND DEGRADING, mean Quaritch, teasing recoms, crying, voyeurism

A/N: I got so embarrassed and red writing this, enjoy <3 I'm also sick with a sore throat and shit but I provide :)

Word count: 7309

I can’t remember what happened after that… intense session. Lyle was carrying me and I may have very well passed out. 

When my memory came back, I was in a cell-like room. My body was pressed up sideways against a wall and I was sitting on a bench inside it. It was very small and completely empty. I lift my head, looking around and seeing that the door was made of thick glass. It was an automatic sliding door. Maybe I could break it down or figure out how to open it. 

I go to move off the bench but stop once I feel my limbs not move with me. I glance down to see that my wrists have been handcuffed together. 

Wow, so much for them being nice, huh?

There was a green and red blinking light. It seemed like a motion sensor because it definitely wasn’t a camera. 

I lean my head back against the wall, feeling sore between my legs and completely exhausted. 

The handcuffs were starting to become uncomfortable and red rings formed on the skin of my wrists. I didn’t even feel like standing up. 

The foreign feeling of wearing proper clothes had me unable to relax. I noticed I was wearing something very similar to what Z-Dog wearing the last time I saw her. Except I had shorts with I assume her or Walker’s tank top. No bra or underwear but it didn’t bother me. 

After a few minutes of silence, I heard distant voices and some humans opened a large door, which led to the room with the cells. One of them being mine. All other cells were empty. 

Leaning down and emerging on the other side was the Colonel. My ears automatically tip back but I watch him with a neutral face. I didn’t like him for what he did but he didn’t seem like he wanted to kill me last time, so I wasn’t going to push my luck. 

A few humans waited by the entrance while he looked around and walked over to my cell. When his eyes caught mine he smiled a devilish smile. 

“Mornin’. Or should I say, afternoon?” he teased. I must have been out for long. 

“What happened?” I ask, stretching my arms and back. 

“You passed out on the way back. That was yesterday, sweetheart.” he informed me, standing tall outside the glass or clear plastic door cell. There were breathing holes in it, so I roughly heard what he was saying. 

“Oh.” I whisper, not knowing what to do. 

He stared at me in silence for a while, as if he were weighing out his options and assessing the situation. After about a minute, he shifted his weight from one leg to the other and sighed. 

“I’m gonna open this door and you’re going to come with me, understood? No struggling or fighting, otherwise there will be consequences.” Quaritch says, warning me with his stern tone. 

It’s not like I really have a choice. I feel weak anyway. And my hands are no good right now, so I nod and he confirms my decision with a firm nod of his head.

The Colonel calls over a person in a lab coat and they open the door with their keycard. He moves to the side, to let me walk past but I wasn’t sure I would even be able to get up yet. 

Slowly I turned to the side and let my feet touch the ground. At least my ankles weren’t tied. 

I push myself off the bench and quickly lean against the wall with my flattened-out palms while I try to control the shaking of my knees. 

“What? Ya need a wheelchair?” Quaritch asks, leaning against the door frame and smirking. 

I scoff. Yeah right. I was going to spare myself that embarrassment. 

“No. I’m fine.” I mumble, pushing myself off the wall and taking a shaky step forwards. 

He huffs, seeming frustrated with how long it's taking me. But he doesn’t comment on it or get angry which surprises me. After all, I can’t walk because of his goddamn orders and his soldiers. 

Quaritch offers me a hand, stretching it out in front of him and opening his palm to me. 

I stare up at him, wondering whether he was serious. A gesture like that was one of the last things I expected. 

“Come on, hurry it up. I don’t have all day.” he says, urging me to take his hand and follow him. 

Quaritch did in fact have all day. He cancelled all his plans and tasks he had to complete today as Colonel so he could focus on you. While he wasn’t really sure what to expect and what to even do with you now that they had captured you, he knew he would have to devote his full attention to it. 

“This is your doing.” I say, not looking at him but at my feet so that I don’t trip. He scoffs at my words. 

I stretch out my right arm and my left follows, placing my hand into his open palm and taking another step. 

“There we go.” he coos, looking down at my legs to make sure I don’t tangle them. 

Once I’m out of the cell I stop and look around. 

“You gonna be able to speed it up? If not, I will have you put in a wheelchair.” he tells me and it starts off by sounding nice and considerate and gradually his sentence turns into a threat. As if he can’t help himself but always be a little mean. 

“I’ll be fine.” I mumble and he slightly nods before looking up at the exit doors. 

He starts walking and I’m dragged behind him. My legs suffer the first few steps but quickly adapt to the feeling of walking and soon I let go of his hand. He doesn’t react when I pull it away, he just leads the way to where we are going. I look behind us to see a person in a lab coat jogging behind us and holding a clipboard. Next to them are two soldiers with their guns aimed at me. 

I roll my eyes. If I would have wanted to kill them it would have been done by now. 

We come to the end of the hallway and Quaritch looks behind him to see how I’m doing. Then another door automatically slides open and I see a big empty room. Well, empty of people, not equipment. There are benches and monitors and in the background, I see hologram-like pictures of Jake, Neytiri, Grace, Norm, the village that was set on fire and a picture of me. Human me. I walk inside and branch off from Quaritch who is telling a human to gather his squad here. 

I stop in front of the hologram of my face. Next to it are a few other pictures of me working for the RDA. Then there is one of my Na’vi self, right next to my face. As if they were comparing the features to find out whether it was really me. 

I stare at my human form, remembering what it was like. I hadn’t seen her in years. Then again, she wasn’t who I wanted to be. I didn’t like her. She used to have bad intentions and morally messed up thoughts. She was a weapon and not an individual form of life. 

Quaritch had come up behind me, keeping a distance but looking over my shoulder at my past self. He seemed to be in deep thought. 

I was staring at a picture I completely forgot existed. I used to have it in a frame on my nightstand when I was human and working for the RDA. It was a picture Norm took of Trudy and me with her newly assigned fighter helicopter. We were both in charge of it and it was ours to take out for missions. 

She looked so happy, posing with me while we were installing the new equipment. 

That was the helicopter she died in too. We both took it out after painting it with warpaint and when the helicopter was hit, it knocked me off and I fell. The huge leaves caught me and when I looked back up in the sky, the helicopter was a flaming fireball, falling to the ground. Tears swelled in my eyes and my heart ached.

I flicked to a new picture, one taken of me and… Grace. That was when Lyle and I accompanied her to get samples from the forest. He was in the background while she and I smiled for the camera. 

I did miss her too. 

The Colonel’s breathing seems to have stopped when he saw this picture. He knew now that he was responsible for both of their deaths but I couldn’t tell whether he felt guilty or not. But something was definitely bothering him.

Suddenly, his hand reached past my body and he picked up a holo tablet. My eyes followed his hands and he gestured over to a bench. 

“Sit down here.” he says. It’s surprisingly not a stern, angry order. He’s talking to me like I’m one of his soldiers again. It warms my heart a little. But I couldn’t let it get to me. I knew they were horrible people. Worse than me. Their intentions stayed the same while mine had shifted to love Pandora. 

My gaze flickers between him, the tablet and the bench. I decide not to make this difficult because he isn’t currently being awfully rude.

I walk towards him and sit in front of him on the bench. He watches in approval but his expression stays neutral and emotionless. 

I cross my legs on the wooden seat and look up at him. The Colonel hands me the tablet and I continue examining my old self. 

Just seeing the relationship I had with them before and seeing how happy I looked before realising how fucked up the RDA’s actions were. It was weird to think that that young girl was me. Her mind seems so different to mine now. 

Quaritch is leaning against a desk, facing me and watching my reactions as I flick through the pictures. 

Then my ears twitch to a new noise of distant footsteps, laughter and voices. I keep my eyes on the tablet though, getting an odd feeling of deja-vu. 

The recoms walk in and stop at the entrance, seeing their Colonel and then …me. I’m awake and not being held down. Huh. 

“Colonel.” Lyle greets and Quaritch snaps out of his thoughts and glances at his soldiers. Quickly, he pushes himself from the desk and straightens his posture. 

He nods in their direction before they move into the room. A few of them sit down while others stand and a type of circle is formed. It’s odd that there is a structure and order in all their actions. Then again, it does seem familiar. 

I tear my eyes away from the holopad and look around. I’m still not comfortable in all of their presence. They’re bad people and I still want to go home. My ears are tipped back and I don’t look anyone in the eyes. 

Z-Dog stands close to her superior, eyeing me down. It doesn’t go unnoticed that my hands are still cuffed together. 

Lyle takes a seat next to me but he’s not in my space so I don’t react. Mansk stands opposite Zdinarsk, also watching me. Maybe they were wondering why I wasn’t completely restricted. Or maybe they were afraid they would get beaten up again. Yeah, let’s settle for that. They were afraid.

Then Ja moves next to me, sitting much closer to me than Lyle. His legs spread in a mansplaining position and his knee nudges mine.

I glare at him and remove my legs from their previous position, keeping them placed firmly next to each other and on the ground now.

He smirked at me and my reaction, his eyes twinkling as he stared into mine while keeping his leg there where it was. 

I wasn’t going to deal with his teasing so I looked straight ahead, keeping my ears flat and back. My tail flicked with irritation and I returned to look at the holopad on my lap. 

“Alright squad, listen up.” Quaritch announces, clasping his hands together and gaining everyone’s attention. Ja also stops staring at me and faces forward. 

“There’s a slight change in plan, now that we have accomplished half our mission.” he continues and people listen, occasionally nodding along. 

I scoff which his sensitive ears capture and his head turns to me. The others also watch me, waiting for their Colonel’s reaction. 

“Half the mission?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. Old Y/N is back now. My silent examining self was gone and was replaced with my attitude. 

“That’s right.” Quaritch says, becoming annoyed. He says it in a way that urges me to keep talking. 

“Wasn’t the mission to kill me?” I ask, tilting my head. He opens his mouth to reply but my curiosity gets the better of me. 

“Which reminds me, how come I’m still alive?” I continue to push, genuinely confused why they haven’t tortured and killed me yet. While I was unconscious they had the perfect opportunity to get rid of me. 

He sighs, glaring me down. 

“It was. Now, you’ve helped us realise that you can make yourself more useful to us alive rather than dead.” he snarled, his own ears tipping back. Mine, therefore, perk forward at his words. What was he talking about? It better not be sexual. If I was going to become their personal toy I might as well just kill myself. I wasn’t going to willingly experience that humiliation again, no matter how good it may feel. 

“If you’re going to use me as some kind of toy then I will make your lives hell on Pandora. I swear to god-” I start going off, words leaving my lips before I can run them through my head. 

All the soldier's attention was really peaking now. Memories of yesterday flood their minds again, reminding them of the dirty pictures you left behind in their heads.

“I was going to say you can help us learn how to be Na’vi, but since your dirty little mind can’t help itself, we can put your wish to a test.” Quaritch steps forward, continuing to glare down at me. I hear Ja and Lyle both chuckle next to me as I try to keep my composure. 

Quaritch raises an eyebrow and I look away in defeat. There was once again too much attention on me. I couldn’t handle it and I didn’t want to be blushing in front of them. I needed to gain or regain a good image.

“You gonna cooperate and teach us your damned language?” he asks and I huff before nodding. Pfft, ‘damned’ language. I’ve grown to prefer Na’vi over English.

“Words, sweetheart.” the Colonel says and I look up again. 

“Yes.” The words softly leave my mouth, my voice much quieter. He smirks evilly, enjoying how he was able to make me fall back in line. Especially after I proved how much I was to handle. 

“Alright then. Ms L/N, the board is yours.” Quaritch says, moving to the side for me to get up. I sigh, making sure they know I’m not happy doing this before getting up with the holopad and walking to the desk the Colonel was leaning against before. 

“Anyone who isn’t part of this mission leaves now.” Quaritch orders and a few humans who were hanging around the entry door turned to leave. 

Z-Dog got up too. She was part of this mission but she was working with Walker, Zhang, Warren and a few other soldiers who didn’t witness the unholy events that occurred the day before. 

She walked out, closing the door behind her. The room had windows which connected to the hallway so we could still see the rest of the workforce passing our room. 

Then the attention was back on me. Everyone was sitting now except for me and Quaritch. 

“What do you want me to explain?” I ask, feeling clueless. Did they want me to recite the Na’vi alphabet to them or sing them children's songs?

“Whatever you deem as important.” Miles said but I just blankly stared at him. 

“This is bullshit.” I say, hating that I had to do this. Prager and Mansk chuckled while Fike and Lopez exchanged looks. Brown kept his focus on me, not seeming fazed by the behaviour of his colleagues.  

“Don’t push it.” Quaritch warned and Lyle grinned. 

“Can you at least undo these?” I ask, holding up my cuffed wrists. 

“If you give us a good lesson, I’ll consider it.” he smirks, crossing his arms in front of his chest while shifting his weight from one leg to another and I huff. 

“Fine.” I mumble. “Are you even getting paid for this?” I then ask, curiously. 

Quaritch lets out a frustrated groan, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“We’ve been given a second chance at life Y/N, we don’t expect money after that.” He snarls. 

“Seems like you’re kind of throwing that opportunity away.” I say looking away, reflecting on how they are doing exactly what got them killed last time. 

“Start explaining some shit before I throw you back in that cell.” Quaritch threatens me, raising his voice and I flinch a little.

I start explaining basic things like greetings and the hand gestures one does. 

“Can you write it down?” Lyle asks after a while and I pause. I don’t know whether his question was genuine because I didn’t expect them to actually want to learn any of this. 

“Yeah, but you won’t be able to read it. The letters don’t look anything like your ones.” I say and continue telling them about anything I think is valid. 

That’s something along the lines of “If you see the fruit with a red stem and purple bud, you can eat it but make sure the petals around it are yellow and not grey.” Or “Animals on Pandora are not there for our use. They live among the people and share our home.” 

I was now leaning against the desk myself, feeling a little more comfortable talking until I noticed something new. 

Eventually, the attention seems to leave what I am saying and focuses on my body. I notice a few eyes staring at my chest and waist and it irritates me. Quaritch him fucking self is looking me over even though he is the one that asked me to teach them. 

I start saying something about the culture and clothing until Lopez interrupts. 

“Did she not get a bra?” he asks Brown who is sitting next to him. Ja grins, his eyes shameless staring at my chest. 

I look down to see that my nipples are visible through the fabric. It wouldn’t bother me, given the fact that the chest piece I usually wore would often slip and even reveal my bare chest. But in their presence and with their predatory eyes, it seemed to have a different effect on me. 

Lyle turns to Mansk and Ja. ”Didn’t give ‘er any panties either.” he grins and immediately I feel my cheeks heat up in embarrassment. Their laughter makes me feel helpless and ashamed for something I am not responsible for. 

“Hey Y/N, how do you say ‘panties’ in Na’vi?” Fike calls out in a teasing way, nudging Prager in the shoulder. 

My ears strain as far back as possible. “You don’t.” I snarl, my tail wrapping around my leg. The word didn’t exist and it didn’t need to.

“How ‘bout ‘flustered’?” Mansk asks, leaning forward and grinning. My head snaps to him.  Shit, were my cheeks really visibly red? I don’t respond to that because I know they aren’t even genuine questions. They’re just trying to embarrass me and have their fun. 

“Can you explain how mating works?” Lyle asks, not letting it be. I want to be engulfed by the ground when I hear his question. I swallow nervously, fiddling with my restricted hands and glancing at Quaritch. I hope to see a disappointed or angry look on his face caused by the behaviour of his soldiers but he is just staring right back at me, not a hint of emotion on his face other than slight amusement. The comments and questions don’t faze him and he has no problem with what is being said. 

That makes my blood boil. 

Lyle is still looking at me, awaiting an answer and so are the others now too. 

“It’s not that different.” I say, my voice breaking and the words almost turning into a whisper. 

“A little louder, baby.” Ja says, leaning forward on his legs and resting his chin in one of his palms. 

He smiles, pretending that his teasing had no bad intentions and was completely innocent. I knew damn well it wasn’t and their minds were filthier than my one could ever be. 

He seems to be having a good time. That’s a strong contrast to how I’m feeling. 

“It’s not that different.” I repeat, listening to them and speaking up. Lopez chuckles while Ja’s smirk turns into a shit-eating grin. 

“Different from what?” Lyle asks, standing up now and slowly walking up to me. “From how we fucked you dumb yesterday?” 

My eyes go wide at his bold words and I stare at him in disbelief. I open my mouth to try and reply but let’s be honest here, how the fuck does one respond to that?

“Huh?” he asks, not dropping it. He’s standing right in front of me, towering over me even though we’re both Na’vi. 

“Move out the fuckin way, man. Can’t see shit.” Brown calls out and Lyle grins. 

Lyle moves to the side and his hand comes up to grab my face. I flinch away and move away from his hands but he grabs me by the arm and grips my jaw tighter between his hand this time, making me look up at the other soldiers. 

“Look at how shy she’s gettin’.” he laughs when I refuse to look at anyone and just close my eyes or stare up at the ceiling. “Aww, come on baby it’s okay. We’ve seen more than this.” he coos, mocking me and I whine, trying to move away, hoping he would let go of me. 

“That’s enough.” I hear Quaritch’s stern voice almost shout from the other side of the room. Lyle lets go of my face and I drop my head down, sighing in relief. 

When I glance at the Colonel, he’s saying something to Prager who then gets up and heads over to the windows. 

Quaritch calmly makes his way over to me and I can feel the energy of authority he carries. It has Lyle taking a safe step back, distancing himself from me.

I can make out that Prager is pulling down the blinds on the windows from the corner of my eye but the realisation is subconscious. I’m too distracted watching the Colonel walk over to me with an unreadable look on his face. Even though I don’t work under his command anymore, he still remains so unbearably intimidating.

“Sit down.” he orders and Lyle nods, returning to his seat in a few quick strides. Prager also sat back down now and the room seems more enclosed with the windows not being seen. 

He comes up to stand next to me and sends a harsh glare to his recoms. 

“Leave the poor lady alone.” he says, turning to face them and placing a hand on my shoulder. It’s still bigger than my hands and almost engulfs my entire shoulder. 

“She’s tryin’ to help us and teach us what we need to know and all you lot can do is tease ‘er.” he continues lecturing his team. My eyes widen and I look up at him but his eyes remain fixed on his soldiers. Some of them are looking at the ground or at their hands with their grins wiped clean off their faces. 

“Look at the poor thing, you’ve embarrassed her. She can’t even look us in the eye now.” The Colonel continues. 

Wow. My mind was blown. Quaritch was standing up for me. Why though? He didn’t seem to care earlier.

Finally, the teasing ended and they were told off for it. I couldn’t believe it was happening. It seemed almost too good to be true. 

I was distracted by my thoughts, wondering why he chose to save me now. His words faded from my hearing slightly as I fought back a smile. 

“Give me your hands, sweetheart.” He finally spoke, looking down at me. His voice was a little softer but his face was still neutral. I was hoping for an apologetic look but he didn’t give me one. I brushed it off, holding my locked up hands to him. He held them and opened the handcuffs, sliding them into the pocket of his cammies. 

I rubbed my wrists which had marks on the skin from the cuffs. 

Quaritch turned back to his soldiers while I stood next to him, my tail swaying from side to side now. 

“If you ever speak to her like that again, we’re going to have a problem.” he continued and my heart fluttered at his words. I was saved. 

“You’re never going to touch her like that again either, understood?” he added and I looked to see whether he was looking at Lyle because Lyle had just had a tight grip on me, but he wasn’t. Quaritch was looking at everyone which meant he was referring to past events. My tail stopped moving. Why did he have to bring that up again?

“And if you think you’re ever gonna get to see her like that again,” he spoke and I grimaced slightly, wondering what the point of his mentioning all this was again. “...then you ain’t that wrong.” 

My heart stopped and I froze completely. What did he just say…?

I was in the motion of looking up but my movements stopped when his rough hand attached itself to the hem of my tank top and it was swiftly pulled up and over my chest. 

I gasp, my eyes shooting wide open again as I go to cover my bare chest. The fabric pooled above my breasts and my hands flew to pull it down but just as they reached up, the same hand that pulled up the cloth, caught both my hands and held them in the air. 

I glanced at Quaritch in disbelief and he had an evil smirk on his lips. His other hand curled around the bunched-up top and pulled it over my head. 

I struggled in his grip, trying to free myself but it was absolutely no use. 

The soldiers had meanwhile all looked up and their eyes were blown wide. They weren’t expecting Quaritch to do that but they sure as hell weren’t complaining. 

“This,” he snarls, throwing the tank top behind him “this,” Quaritch reaches down to my shorts and since there is no belt to properly hold them up, he pulls them down my legs and kicks them away. 

I’m completely bare and I put on leg infront of the other, raising it a little to cover myself in any way possible. His hand then holds my face similar to the way Lyle did before. 

“And this,” he makes me look up at his soldiers again, some of who’m are grinning. “...is mine.” 

I whimper, tears filling my eyes as complete and utter embarrassment and shame flood my senses. 

“Don’t cry baby, they’ve seen you like this before.” Quaritch cooed, wiping a tear from my cheek but more hot tears spilt down my flushed skin. 

“This isn’t- fair.” I sob. Yes, his and the recom’s presence had me feeling excited because they all looked so damn good. I also happened to have slept with all of them more or less so of course I would be a little attracted to them. But now, it seemed as though he knew that very well and Quaritch always managed to use the situation to his advantage. 

“Never said it would be, sweet’eart.” he said, grinning. He let my arms go and I curled them around my body, managing to hide myself for a few seconds. Then I was picked up and placed onto the desk which to Quaritch’s delight was at about waist height. The room was built for Na’vi-sized soldiers, not humans. It came in handy. 

I was placed on the desk, facing the others and Quaritch was standing to my right, scanning over my bare body. I instinctively crossed my legs over each other and watched his ears tip back when he saw the movements. 

“You either open ‘em now or I’ll do it for you. What’s it gonna be?” he said, looking into my eyes now. 

My ears are already strained all the way back and I bare my fang at him, hissing. I hated him for this. I hated the effect he had on me and how he knew exactly what to do and when to do it. I also knew I stood no chance and it made me hate him even more. 

“Alright then.” he chuckled darkly, harshly grabbing my knees with both his hands and forcing my legs open. I leaned forward trying to curl myself over my body but he placed one hand on my chest and pushed me all the way back. 

I lay on the desk, my head hanging off the other side with my legs opened in front of eight men whose hungry eyes were devouring the sight. I heard a groan which definitely did not come from Quaritch and I covered my hot face with my sweaty palms. 

Quaritch smirked, holding my legs in place before one of his hands starts to rub my pussy. 

A dark chuckle left his throat. “I thought you weren’t enjoying this Y/N.” 

The teasing never stopped. He glided his fingers through my shamefully slick folds and then pushed a finger into me. When he pulled it out, he held it up for the others to see too. 

Lyle muttered something which I didn’t understand but it made the Colonel grin. 

“Can’t get enough, huh, you little vixen?” Quaritch said, lightly slapping my pussy. I cried out, flinching away from his touch and biting my fist. 

“Fuckin’ hell.” Ja mumbled, adjusting his pants. “Colonel, can I-” he started saying but was cut off. 

“Forget it.” Quaritch snarled, almost hissing at Ja who leaned back on his deck and crossed his arms over his chest. 

“You had your goddamn turn.” Miles adds, focusing his attention back on me. He pushed two fingers in and I whined. 

“Please- it hurts.” I say, the plea being meant to ask him to stop. I was sore from yesterday but he interpreted it differently.

“You have it that bad, baby?” he scoffed, pushing his fingers back in. I gasped, trying to move away but I would just fall from the desk. 

“No.” I cry out. “I can’t- do this. It still-” 

“Shhh.” he hushed me, losing his tight grip and closing my legs. His hand rubbed my thigh in an oddly comforting way. He traced a tattoo on my hip that I got before joining the Marines. It made him smile. A part of old me would always be there. It marked me as a Sky Person which amused the Colonel. 

He moved around the desk, now no longer standing in front of it but on the side. He pulled me up by my hips and moved me so that I was laying in front of him again. 

The others were seeing me from the side, all of them sitting and watching intently on my right. 

“You’ll be fine.” he said, but it was not reassuring to me. He said it as if he were waving my worries off. With the way he was looking at me, it seemed he was too distracted to properly even process my words. 

He pulled my legs up and open again, tracing a hand down my thigh as he stared down at my glistening heat. 

I wasn’t sure whether it hurt because of yesterday or whether I was feeling that needy, but my question was soon to be answered. 

He let me go and started undoing his pants. I bent my legs and tried to cover myself in any way possible but it didn’t even make sense to me anymore. I was completely naked in front of them all once again and covering myself with my hands is pointless. 

Quaritch had meanwhile undone his pants and pulled them down just enough so that his dick was out. I looked up at him and saw it. Fuck, this was going to hurt. He was big too. 

I covered my face again, trying to turn to the side and away from the unwanted audience but he flipped me back on my back.

The hard desk beneath me was uncomfortable for my tail. 

Quaritch pulled my hips closer to his and my legs were placed on his shoulders. I didn’t even fight it anymore. Even if I would kick him in the face, I would have to knock out another 7 soldiers to get away and then figure out how to get out of this building with others around. It wouldn’t work. I was too out of it to be able to think properly. I just wanted to be curled up in a ball and covered.

As attracted as I was to everyone in the room, I was most definitely not used to this much attention and it was shockingly overwhelming. 

“Beg for it, baby. Then I promise to make you feel good.” Quaritch teased, his tail amusedly swaying behind him. 

No fucking way was I doing that. 

“Fuck you.” I snarl, glaring at him and trying to remove a leg from his shoulder but he held it in place. A few chuckles erupted from the soldiers seated. 

“The sooner you beg, the sooner this will be over, sweetheart. I can have you layin’ here like this all day.” he adds, grinning down at me while his hand glides up and down my leg. 

I groan out in frustration, my tail thudding against the desk. I stay quiet for a while, wondering whether he will give up but he doesn’t. Quaritch raises a challenging eyebrow and I huff. There was no good way out of this for me.

“Please.” I whisper, still covering my face. 

“Louder.” Quaritch says, removing the hands from my flushed face.

“Please.” I repeat so that everyone can hear it. 

“Please, what?” he grins, licking over his fangs and resting the side of his head on my calf that was on his shoulder.

I gulp, wanting to kill him for the words I was about to say. 

“Please fuck me.” I whine, covering my mouth again as soon as the words leave my lips. 

He chuckles.”Why didn’t ya just say so?”

Quaritch presses the tip of his dick against my entrance and I tense up, unsure of how it will feel. 

Almost instantly, his hips snap forward and he’s pushing all of himself into me at once. 

I cry out, fresh tears forming in the corners of my eyes. My hands grip the sides of the desk when I feel his abdomen press against my ass. He’s bottomed me out. 

The belly bulge they pointed out last time had formed again and Quaritch peered down at it. God, did it raise his ego to be this big. 

“Fuck-” I swear, whining out and clenching my eyes closed. 

“You okay?” Quaritch asks with a hint of worry. His words surprise me. 

“Hurts...” I whimper, biting my lip while my chest heaves. 

He doesn’t move for a while, he just traces patterns on my skin until my face is no longer contorted in discomfort. 

“It’ll get better.” he hushes my small cry and pulls out, before gently letting himself be engulfed again. He exhales shakily, his own needs finally being heard. 

Before being able to complain or do anything else, he pulls out again and I’m flipped over. My chest presses into the cool material of the desk and my hips are now hanging off the edge while my toes barely touch the ground. 

Miles almost immediately thrusts back inside and I arch my back, leaning on my forearms now. My teeth are clenched and I hiss at the feeling of the new angle. 

He thrusts into me with precise and strong strokes before he stills and I feel a hand wrap around my braid. My eyes shoot open and I tense up again. I feel him run his hand down it before picking up the tip. 

“No!” I shout, trying to turn around. “No- don’t do that.”

He holds me down by placing his hand on my back. 

“Why not?” he teased, examining my queue. I notice that everyone is watching the small strings of nerves move around in my braid.  

“It can’t be undone. It’s for life. Don’t you dare.” I threaten him, looking over my shoulder and snarling the words at him. 

“Do you have some boyfriend you’ve done it with?” he asks mockingly, wondering whether I was perhaps already mated. I let my head drop down and into my arm. “Does he fuck this pussy as good as me?”

“No.” I mumble, but he hears it. It answered both questions. 

The answer is like music to his ears. 

“Don’t you wanna try it? I am the reason you’re alive after all.” he says, trying to hit me with some of his twisted words of truth. Then again, he was also the reason I was captured here. 

I don’t answer because I’m rethinking my choices. I did meet a nice Na’vi man once, but as soon as he found out I used to be human. That ended it. It would always ruin any chance I would get. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea?

My silence shows Quaritch that I’m not protesting, so he doesn’t wait any longer. 

He pulls his own braid over his shoulder and pinches the base of both out queues. I flinch and look over my shoulder, in anticipation of what is to come. 

He held our queues together and the strings created a bond, shining a small white light before becoming one stable string. Both our pupils were blown wide as our senses were flooded with the feeling of being connected to each other. My eyes fluttered closed a little when I felt his arousal and he growled, grasping my hips before setting a pace again. 

Quaritch was thrusting into me, hitting all spots inside me and showing attention to my body. He could now feel what felt good for me and focused on that. 

My tail curled upwards and I stretched my arms out in front of me, pushing back against Miles. 

He was being filled with the need to deeply breed me. Something he had never thought of before. He needed to fill me up with his cum until it was seeping out of my pussy and I couldn’t take anymore. 

Never again was anyone except for him going to touch you. You were his now. 

I bit my lip and with the next thrust, I moaned. He felt so good it was making my mind fuzzy. 

He grinned, while breathlessly panting a little. Miles stabilised himself by holding my hips and one of his hands wrapped itself around my tail and tugging me back with every thrust. 

“Shit.” I cursed, balling my fists up before pressing my chest off the desk again and arching my back while leaning against my forearms. 

“That’s it. Take it baby.” Miles hisses between clenched teeth. His hips were starting to stutter every few thrusts and I knew he was as close as I was. My tail wrapped around the arm holding it and I let my head fall back, not caring about how exposed I was to the rest of the soldiers. 

They were mesmerised by the sight before them and I couldn’t even focus on anything else except the way Miles was fucking me into the desk. 

His hand reached back and he delivered a stinging spank to my ass, making me cry out again. 

“That’s for being such a pain in the ass.” he chuckled before picking up his speed and making the desk wobble. My mouth is hanging open in pleasure and not a proper thought is able to reach my mind at this instant. 

“I’m gonna fill you up now and you’re going to take it all.” He growled, leaning forwards and placing his outstretched arms on either side of my back while his hips continued to rut inside me. His fangs were bared as the primal instincts shone through both of our bodies.

I quickly nodded, needing to feel him do that otherwise I would explode. 

Within the next few seconds, he thrust so hard that it pushed me over the edge. My whole body tensed and I clenched around him. Miles’ hips stilled and he buried himself as deep inside me as he could before releasing his load into my throbbing pussy. 

“Fuck.” he moaned while white waves of pleasure shot through our bodies. It was twice as intense because I felt my orgasm along with his. 

Our bodies relaxed against each other and I panted against the desk, dropping my head down again. 

He was leaning against my angled hips and soon enough our tsaheylu’s bond disconnected and my braid fell onto my back. It was done. We were mated for life. The realisation hit me only now and I didn’t know how to feel about it. 

Miles slowly straightened his posture and pulled out, tucking himself back into his pants before watching his cum flow out of my pussy. The sight was one of the best things he had seen in years. 

When he looked at my limp body, he felt guilty for his actions and for forcing himself onto me. 

“Give me that.” he ordered Mansk to give him my shorts and top. 

I was lifted and re-dressed by Miles. My eyes scanned the room and I felt slightly ashamed. I looked down, my ears tipped back again, showing my discomfort. 

Quaritch noticed it and stopped. He didn’t quite know how to make me feel better but he wasn’t going to let anyone else comfort me.

“I’m sorry.” he spoke softly, his gaze no longer intimidating me. 

I hesitate to answer. “It’s okay.” I reply, even though I’m not sure it is. We were mated for life. I didn’t know what would happen now. 

He smiled at my words but he could tell I wasn’t sure of them either. 

“Dismissed.” he announces to his squad. “Go deal with yourselves.” 

They all stood up, some grinning and looking at me before adjusting their pants a little and leaving. 

The door closes behind them.

“It’ll all get better soon.” Miles says, placing a hand on my back in comfort. I look up at him, wondering what he means. But he as well isn’t sure of his words.

I nod and he embraces me. Something we have never done before. I had my head pressed against his chest while his arms cradled my upper body. 

“Let me take care of you baby.” he whispers, pressing a kiss to my head. The gesture makes me melt and I lean further into him, accepting his offer. 

(please don't ask me to make part 3.I have no ideas for that and I promise I have so many more story ideas coming)

Tag list:

@drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @lovekeeho   @luciddasherer @misscaller06 @clora95  @mxddymay @nanamislut321 @dangerslutx @ndjhs7 @winxschester

[honeydewpie]

Episode 1

Welcome to Kiss

The plane ride was unbearable in itself. The loud crying children even the small musk of sweat from other foreigners in the plane. You looked out the window with your last minutes on the plane. The beauty of Seoul peeped through the clouds and you seemed to burst with energy. The PA rang and everyone around in unison looked alive: which just enhanced your excitement.

You thought the plane was the worst part, but no. It was navigating through a foreign airport. You looked around trying to use an app and what little Korean you learned through Duolingo. You wandered around looking at the little symbols of signs for clues: all led you a circle. Then you saw shops with cute survivors and suddenly you were at every pop up shop buying at least one thing from each shop. You looked at your bounty with pride swelling up. You reached for your phone to take a picture when someone rudely bumped into you. Offended, you looked up at the jerk who bumped into you without apologizing. “Um, annyeonghaseyo?!” You said with an irritated tone. The guy turned around with an annoyed look. “annyeonghaseyo.” His voice was dull and his body was screaming “what do you want” all over it. “Aren’t you gonna apologize?” You said with your English slipping through. He replied, “Oh sorry, me no speak English.” With a broken Asian accent. You looked at him with embarrassment but before you could make a remark he left. Leaving you embarrassed you thought it’d be the perfect time to get back on track.

You felt lost and felt everything was becoming too overwhelming. While looking at your phone trying to translate something someone bumped into you again. This was getting ironic you thought. “Oh I’m so sorry!” Your body seemed to perk up; you turned around. “ You speak English?!” You said with excitement . “Yes! Yes! Me speak English.” She shared the same sense of relief and excitement as you. “Hi I’m Katherine, but call me kitty.” She extended her hand out with a smile and you gladly shook it. You introduced yourself with the same gestures. “I’m trying to find the exit I have a bus to catch.” You said with worry. “Really?! Me too! How about we look together? It’s better than being lost by ourselves.” After a while you and kitty both sat down tired and at the break of giving up. You grabbed your phone and jumped with panic. The bus was about to leave in 10 minutes. Your body seemed to melt into failure and despair. You let out an annoyed groan as everything felt so impossible in the moment. “Hey! Get up! I think I found the way out.” With those words your body seemed to jolt with a sense of hope. “Follow me!” Kitty said eagerly.

You both bolted out of the entrance: with kitty slightly behind due to her suitcase. You looked frantically left and right until you spotted the blue bus with the words “KISS”. Your body seemed to relax as you quickly headed to the bus. You barely made it as the last person boarded. With a relieved smile you looked at the chauffeur, “annyeonghaseyo.”, “annyeonghaseyo.” He said back with a smile. Before you boarded you looked back to see if you could catch Kitty before you left. You saw her frantic with her bags tripping over her. She locked eyes with you and yelled “HOLD THE BUS!” You gave her a confused look before the pieces clicked. You looked at the bus driver, “Can you hold on for just a bit.” You said with a grim smile.

“I can't believe you go to kiss too.” You said in disbelief. “Me too! It must be fate.” Kitty said with excitement oozing out of her. “Why are you going to kiss? Kitty asked.“I’m going because of a scholarship and to learn about my culture. Seeing as my dad wasn’t too in tune with his culture. What about you?” “Me too! Well not my dad, but more so my mom. She died before she could teach me much, and my dad’s white so he can’t really help. Oh and I get to see my boyfriend, his name is Dae. We’ve been talking for like years, and this’ll be the first time in a while that we get to see each other.” You looked at her dumbfounded, but she just gave you a cheeky smile which you gladly returned.

The bus ride seemed like a blur. Before you knew it you and kitty were standing on the sidewalk with your loads of luggage. You and her looked at each other with wonder as you both faced a new school. Looking for the student center was easy. There were signs with English and Korean text. Many of the assisting staff also were fluent in English, so you and Kitty had an easy navigation. Walking into the center was underwhelming. There wasn’t a long line: kitty being the only one in front of you. Once Kitty was done you walked up,“Annyeonghaseyo, welcome to KISS what’s your last name.” You told her and she shuffled through files until she came across yours. “Please fill this out and turn it to the dorm residents,” You nodded and thanked her then went straight to Kitty. “Lemme see your paper!” Kitty said with urgency. You both looked over your paper’s and as you skimmed down both of your smiles flattered. “That sucks.” You said bluntly. “Hey! On the bright side it seems that you have a single room.” Kitty said sheepishly. “Yeah I guess. . . Meet you at the welcome party?”, “Totally!” You and kitty then parted ways to your respected dorms.

Now looking for the dorms was a little harder than the center. You looked at the map provided, but somehow it was more confusing than the signs at the airport. The school had many buildings; which isn’t surprising since it’s an elite school. While walking around the school you noticed many things. Each bush had buds ready to bloom in the spring. The air was sweet and savory; it smelled like home. Around the campus there were traditional aspects, but also modern architecture incorporated. You wandered around for a bit until you finally stumbled at the dorms. Walking in there were hints of floral and vanilla scents. People were coming in and mingling amongst each other. Heaps of fancy or extravagant carriers laid around the hobbies as everyone was getting settled in. You looked at your paper one more time then you walked in the elevator.

The dorm was very modern. The living room had one double couch and one single couch. There was a nice sleek counter with storage underneath and a desk beside it with cubbies above it. On the right there was a spacious bathroom with a granite glossed sink. Accompanying it was a tub and or shower, with a Snow White finish. The kitchen was homey. The countertop was wood with a shine finish: on it was plugged in stove. Across the kitchen was the one bedroom. The room was average sized. A window shined through light and made the room seem like it was glowing. The curtains had two layers: one was sheer, the other was thick enough to block out light. Just like the ones in the living room. You set down your bags next to the desk then proceeded to unpack. After you finished unpacking you grabbed a change of clothes then proceeded to the bathroom.

You turned on the shower and undressed as you waited for the water to warm up a bit. Once at a reasonable temperature you stepped in. The water was soothing and comfy; you seemed to melt into it. You grabbed your strawberry scented shampoo and lathered it before massaging it in your scalp. As it foamed up you stopped and washed it off. Thoroughly getting any excess shampoo out. Then you proceed to get your conditioner and comb it through your hair; moisturizing it to a silky texture. Finishing the shower you scrubbed your body before rinsing and turning it off.

Once your body was dry you dove into the plush sheets: the jet lag finally catching up to you. You grabbed your comforter and tucked yourself in before completely knocking out cold. You woke up in a cold sweat and in a pitch black room with nothing but the moon’s light. Dazed, you sat up and looked at your window. It was night time you thought. The stars were twinkling and more vibrant than in the city: where the street lights drown the stars. You grabbed your phone and opened it “Reminder: Welcome Party at 19:00”. Your eyes drifted to the time it was “18:23”. Your eyes widened at and hurried out of bed. You skimmed through your drawers until you found your black dress. It was a tight fitted body with mesh long sleeves from your shoulders from your wrist. You grabbed some three inch heels from your shoe rack, and some complimentary jewelry from your desk. While at your desk you put on a simple Douyin look. To finish off the look you put your hair in a nice sleek look casting away any fly always or imperfections. Before leaving you brushed your teeth and put on strawberry blossom perfume leaving you with a sweet yet sophisticated smell.

Before entering you texted Kitty: hoping she just pulled up too. You waited for a good minute with no response. Throwing caution in the wind you entered. Some k-pop songs were blasting with low blue lighting. Conversation engulfed the room: everyone was looking consumed into their conversation. There were a few stragglers who eventually engaged into a conversation. You made your way to the punch and poured yourself a cup. You sat there idling waiting for a buzz from your phone. Standing there made you feel awkward as everyone emerged into their conversation. As you waited you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned around expecting Kitty, but no. It was a tall lean guy with a middle part and flirtatious smile.

“Hello there, I don’t think we’ve met before.” His voice was relaxing and smooth; with a hint of seduction. You looked at the guy head to toe eyeing his body and features, as if you were pinpointing any imperfections. There wasn’t any. You looked at him with suspicion but replied, “No we haven’t, you look very familiar though.” He chuckled away before coming back and looking deep in your eyes. “It’s probably because I’m the man in your dreams.” He replied cooley. You merely scoffed at his charms: which only enticed him more. “I never got your name?” He said getting a little closer. You challenged his proximity and got closer as you whispered in his ear with a captivating tone your name. His grin seemed to enhance with your advancements: encouraging him. He dipped down to your ear and whispered ever so softly, “What a beautiful name for an even beautiful girl.” He said as his warmth grazed your neck which triggered shivers to run down your spine and leaving you breathless. You swallowed down your nerves and looked him in the eyes: trying to hide your nerves. His grin only got wider as you stood your ground. He swooped down to your ear once more and whispered in a low voice, “What’s wrong sweetie? Cat caught your tongue?” He proceeded to slowly pull away until he was standing tall once more. He looked at you intently watching you as you squirm under his gaze. Trying to collect yourself you cleared your throat before speaking. Before you could get a word out someone accidentally bumped into him. He turned around at the guy annoyed than spoke “Watch where you're going.” He said in a snobby voice. Something right then and there clicked to you. “You're the asshole from the airport!” You stated. “Excuse me?” He said stabbed by your words. “You bumped into me at the airport, and when I tried to get your attention you said you didn’t speak English. Damn you're a snob and liar. He stood there stunned at your words. Then your phone started aggressively buzzing which captured your attention. You started digging through your small bag until you finally retrieved it: 15 unread messages from Kitty. Smiling at the little gesture you found this a perfect excuse to leave the situation. You gave the guy a teasing smile before heading to the entrance to find Kitty.

Authors Note: AHHH this is my first series I’m enjoying writing this and I have so many things plan! Guess what trope I’m doing!! Also please excuse any copied paragraphs or missing stuff I’ll try any look over it but I might not catch it. My tumblr is bugging out 🙏🏼

Anywasy if you enjoy please like and share and comment some feedback 🤗🤍

Chapter 2 coming soon ‼️

Word count: 2k

Tags:

[strixcattus]

I'm supposed to be working on other things right now but I'm thinking about that question on the survey that asked about which ending you preferred/considered canon. And I'm about to say a lot of things that may or may not make sense or all be related to one another, and I'm not sure they'll come out in a parseable order, so I may or may not even end up putting this in the main tag. We'll have to see.

I chose the answer I consider best. Or, least bad. And not in a narrative sense—after the update, I like the scene of the "And? What Happens Next?" ending better than perhaps any other. But I chose the one that I believed led to the most favorable scenario after the end, which would be the loop ending. And I've got a post in my drafts, half-written, that explains in detail why I consider each ending to be a "bad ending" for the world or the characters or both in some form, which I had to put on a back-burner because I wanted to ensure I wasn't doing some sort of bad-faith reading on the Shifting Mound during my discussion of one ending, and even though with the benefit of distance I can see I generally wasn't I've never gotten back to it. To sum it all up, each ending requires you to trade away something the game's story makes you value (unless, I suppose, you come to hate the Princess and by extension the Shifting Mound, or the Shifting Mound and by extension the Princess, on a nonnegotiable level) in order to resolve the narrative, but the loop ending allows you to put it off ad infinitum. What you're sacrificing is the resolution itself. So you lose nothing, and gain nothing, and probably something really horrible happens to the world, but you don't have to think about that part.

But I consider the canon ending to be "There Are No Endings." Maybe it has something to do with it being the first ending I got. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I consider it the optimal outcome for the world—you sacrifice everyone who's unconditionally been on your side this entire time (Shifty doesn't quite count, since she wasn't present in the same way the Voices were) in order to maintain balance and surety. Maybe it just says something about what I value, and that unseen value says something about the endings.

Shifty's right. She doesn't get it right about what you, the player, feel and value (unless your values happen to align with hers—mine don't, but I know some people's must), but that's how people are. She says it—and normally I'd go sifting through the files or the game itself for when exactly she says it, but it's late and I have other things to do, so I'll just say she says it very early on—she says very early on that she cannot know your mind, because you are not her.

It's the same way as your final words to the Voices in the mirror. None of your options are poorly worded. If you expect the Voices to take the harsh truth gracefully, that's an honest mistake, because you can't know what's going on in their heads. Your options are to lie kindly, or tell them a truth that will make them hate you, because just as you can't see inside their heads, they cannot see inside yours, and they will assume you must have some other choice. You don't. But you don't get to articulate it. Lie or hurt them. Those are your only options.

But aside from that Shifty is right. I've seen people ask—and this was early in my entrance to the fandom, and I don't know how much discussion went around about it because I wasn't in the circle, so to speak, even less than I am right now, but I've seen people ask if Shifty could have killed us.

That's not the question to be asking. Of course she could have killed us. She can do anything we believe her to be able to, and if we believe her able to kill us, she can. She always could have killed us.

But she never would have, because she knows. She knows something as a god that you cannot know until you choose to raise yourself to her level—she knows that a universe without either one of you may not be a universe worth living in. She knows that she needs her counterweight. She may not value people on the same level you might, but she does not want them to suffer—she specifically wants them not to suffer, or at least not to suffer in a way she could have prevented. She is a detached god, not a cruel one.

She's right. She's forceful, but she's right, and she can't understand why you would rather be a person than a god, because she has never been anything but a god, and her Vessels are as much a part of her as your Voices are a part of you, but while you lived alongside your Voices as a person before cannibalizing them, she only welcomed her Vessels back upon their absorption. She does not know firsthand what it is to be a person, but she is right about everything else.

(I have to wonder if she is less cruel to her Vessels than you are to your Voices. Hers maintain their form throughout.)

And now this has me thinking—what if the Voices are you? Not in the way in which they're obviously you. I mean that you live your life, you make your decisions, and then you die. And then there is a new one of you. But the new one is not the Voice that has appeared in your head. The new Voice is the old one, fully realized into his own person with a personality you can no longer mold, just as the Vessels are not their own persons until you make the choices that make them into real people. The new entity is you, unmolded, without any personality save what you, the person who does not exist in this world, pour into it.

[meraxesmoon]

Scgrios

《Chapter One: Driftmark》

┍━━━━━━━ ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗━━━━━━━┑

     The gardens in Kings Landing were (Name)'s favorite, mostly because no one was ever there... and it was quiet. The royal family was chaotic sometimes, full of fake smiles and forced civility. The young princess tired of such things, and her only escape was her dragon or the gardens. Mother had banned her from riding her dragon until her wrist healed completely - her and Nightdreamer had taken an accidental tumble while flying, so the gardens it was. The sky had been clear earlier, but now it was raining, heavy drops of condensation hitting the ground and flowers with a certain ferocity. (Name) finds herself wondering why mother nature was so angry today. 

(Name) sits at the gazebo, watching the rain with interested eyes. She then catches sight of someone walking towards the gazebo, getting themselves soaked in the process. She realizes that this person is none other than her own father, Ser Laenor Velaryon. "Father? What are you doing?" (Name) finds herself shooting up from her seat, rushing to the entrance where her father meets her halfway. "You'll catch a cold, and then mother will be angry!" She pauses before looking at him with wide eyes. "Why on earth didn't you grab an umbrella?" Laenor simply laughs, using his wet hand to wipe away the rain from his face, not doing a very good job at it. "You don't think very well sometimes, father," (Name) says as she pokes Laenor with the tip of her own umbrella. 

"Your mother wishes for you to return to the castle, she fears you may come down with something being in this rain," Laenor says as he grabs the umbrella from his daughter, and she shrugs her cover on as they walk back into the rain, this time being covered from the rain. "She worries about you; she seems to think that you've been distant lately." They are greeted by Ser Criston as they reach the door that led inside, the knight looking a little perplexed at their arrival. Laenor nods at Cole in a friendly manner, but it is not returned. "You should not be out in this wretched weather, princess," Ser Cole says as he looks at the young girl. 

(Name) reached for her father's arm, smiling at Cole as she explains that she has her father to protect her from the wicked gods of sickness. 

"Quite, now you'll have to excuse us, Princess Rhaenyra is expecting us." Laenor squeezes his daughter's hand as he walks away from Criston towards the Kings bedroom. This is where Rhaenyra dwelled, spending some personal time with her father as he worked on his figures. (Name) enjoyed coming here as well, as she was rather close with her grandfather. 

Once they enter the room, (Name) is met with the sight of her mother, holding a little bundle in her arms. This must be her new sibling; she thinks as she speeds towards her mother. Not very ladylike, but she knew she'd be excused this one time. 

"My Love," Rhaenyra coos at her oldest as the young princess rushes to hold her new brother. "This is your new brother, Joffrey." Rhaenyra hands her newborn son to his sister with a gentle smile on her face. (Name) had always been so good with her brothers, they were so comforting to Rhaenyra. In truth, her children saved her from a dark time in her life. Her daughter especially. 

Her only precious girl. 

"You look wet, darling, what's happened?" Alicent questions as she sees the water on the young girl's cheek. "She was out in the gardens, Your Grace." Laenor answers for his daughter as she holds Joffrey in her arms gently, smiling down at the new addition to her family. He was smaller than Luke was. "You'll catch a cold, Love," Rhaenyra groans from where she stood next to her own father, though she could feel herself slowly giving up on the argument. 

"I must tend to my children," Alicent says, obviously trying to excuse herself. "Do meet me for tea tomorrow morning, Princess." (Name) nods her head happily and hands her brother to her father before walking towards her mother. 

"Are you doing well, Mother?" (Name) asks, clasping her mother's hand in her own gently. Rhaenyra smiles widely before pressing a kiss to her daughter's forehead. 

"I'm doing just fine, daughter." 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

     Driftmark was cold, the smell of salt water and sound of crashing waves invades (Name)'s ears as her dragon lands on the grainy sand. Nightdreamer was a midnight-blue dragon with silver scaling and equally silver eyes, a bad temper as well. However, she seemed to be in a lighter mood. She liked when they were able to fly together. Nightdreamer was also a very warm dragon, like a giant blanket. Once (Name) climbs down from her dragon, the cold of Driftmark hits her like a tidal wave. Tugging at her deep burgundy cloak, she shivers as she stands next to Nightdreamer for a moment longer. 

"This is your first cordial event, Dreamer, please behave yourself," (Name) smiles as she soothes her hands down Nightdreamer's warm scales, the she-dragon letting out a 'meep' sound in response. "Perhaps we can ride again after the funeral has concluded." 

That made her think of her father. He was usually so bright, but the day that letter arrived... 

Even Seasmoke seemed to realize the dread in the air. 

"As if your mother would allow that." 

The smugness in Aegon's voice made her grimace as she looked towards her uncle. Hopping off of his golden dragon, Aegon smiles cockily at (Name) as she leans on her dragon, an awkward expression taking hold of her face. Even Sunfyre seems to be mocking her, his golden tail swishing behind him excitedly. Nightdreamer and Sunfyre were around the same age, her being slightly younger, but she was longer and overall larger, and the princess had an inkling that Aegon found that a bit offensive. (Name) grimaces as she looks towards Aegon, feeling unsure as she looks around for her mother. 

"She would..." "Not." 

Aegon was an annoying little rodent sometimes. 

Despite their bickering, they ended up walking towards the funeral venue together, Helaena arriving on her own dragon, Dreamfyre, not too soon after. Aegon, Helaena, and (Name) took their studies together, as they were close in age. (Name) and Helaena's personalities synced well together. (Name) was rather awkward and quiet for a daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen, and Helaena was... Helaena. Aegon's personality was too loud for (Name), she often found herself being unsure and wavery around him. 

That's not to say she disliked him, though. 

The dragon riders were among the first to arrive, those coming in boats arriving about twenty minutes later. (Name) spent those twenty minutes with Helaena, as Aegon had already taken to his cups. Helaena, on the other hand, had found a nest of spiders she had never seen before and was trying to show it to (Name). "I've never seen a creature with so many legs," (Name) wonders out loud. Unlike some of the other ladies at court, she wasn't particularly disgusted by Helaena's bug interests. Spiders... she was more tolerant of those. 

"(Name)," Rhaenyra approaches her daughter, looking regal and elysian. (Name) had always marveled at her mother's beauty, she may have not been as conventionally gorgeous like other ladies, and she wasn't particularly feminine in the face, but Rhaenyra had a certain beauty to her. She looked especially good in darker colors, as she was wearing now. (Name) rises from Helaena's side and puts all attention on her mother, who immediately softens her gaze. "Would you go down to the port and fetch your brothers when the ships arrive? Driftmark is large and I fear they may get lost." (Name) agrees, and somehow Aegon ends up accompanying her. 

"Your mother will be cross when she realizes that you have been drinking, Aegon," (Name) says as they wait for the ships to pull into harbor. Aegon had hastily finished three goblets of wine before they came to the harbor, and his cheeks were a bit flushed as he licked his lips, tasting the remnants of his beloved wine. "Yes, well, that's only if you tell." (Name) rolls her eyes as the ships pull in, and the people onboard start to flee them. Several of her mother's servants leave the ship, (Name)'s younger brothers bounding up to her. Luke's tiny hands were gripping onto her cloak, and she couldn't help but notice he looked a little sick. Taking little Joff from one of the servants, (Name) smiles down at her younger brother. He was always so quick to get seasick. 

The next to leave the boat were Queen Alicent and Prince Aemond, the younger boy looking solemn as he gazed at the dragons on shore. 

The funeral went on to be quite the somber event, as most would expect. (Name) had stayed close to her father the entire time, watching pitifully as he mourned the death of his beloved sister. By the end of the funeral, Laenor was horrifically drunk, and (Name) was sure that if her grandfather Corlys hadn't dragged him from the sea that he'd drown. He had disappeared somewhere after that, and (Name) was left with her grandsire, the king. This was her first time meeting her mother's uncle, Prince Daemon. She had learned about him through her grandfather and mother, but never thought she'd actually meet the rebellious prince. He was often away from Westeros, she had heard. 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

     The night had ended horrifically. 

When (Name) was shuffled out of her room by her handmaiden, Althea, she watched as the queen begged for her sons justice. (Name)'s younger brothers had attacked Prince Aemond, and his eye was detached sitting in a bowl on the table. The maimed boy had a pained expression on his face as the maester stitched his eye socket closed, and (Name) could feel something vile in the air. 

Before anyone could react, Queen Alicent had acted out her own revenge, slicing through Rhaenyra's arm, a shocked expression on her usually cool face. Seeing her mother being cut, (Name) rushes to her side, grabbing onto her mother's arm instinctively, warm blood coating and running down her hands. "Mother!" (Name) can feel the panic, the flesh of her mother's arm was torn open by the blade, and it wouldn't stop bleeding. She had read in books that many could die from losing too much blood. 

Gods, she thought hysterically, is this the day I lose my mother?

"I demand that the princess (Name) be brought with us back to Kings Landing, and be married to Aegon." Alicent says after a long silence, the people in the room turning their attention to her as her voice cracks, tears still spilling down her pale cheeks. (Name) freezes, watching as her mothers face distorted into something absolutely twisted. "You will demand nothing," Rhaenyra seethes, her amethyst eyes seared with anger. Both mothers are absolutely feral, trying to protect their children. "My daughter will stay with me, on Dragonstone-" "ENOUGH OF THIS!" 

Viserys, wheezing as he regards his family, motions towards (Name). "The princess will return with us to Kings Landing, and once of age, will marry Aegon." He points to his son, still standing protectively over his younger brother. "That is the end of this matter."

At the end of the night, (Name) and her brothers watched as servants packed all of the young girls things, loading them onto a ship. Readying for tomorrow's journey back to Kings Landing. The tension between Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra had finally snapped, and (Name) had been the victim of it in the end. 

Before this night, (Name) had never seen her mother cry. Rhaenyra was a strong woman, but her strength came from the love she had for her family, and now her family was being split apart. After having her arm sewed up, the heiress sits in silence as her children get their own treatment from the maesters. Luke was crying hysterically, gripping onto (Name)'s nightgown as she sat next to him. He seemed less concerned about his nose and more about his sister being sent away. The younger children were soon sent to bed, where they would stay until the following morning, and it was soon just Rhaenyra and her eldest in that desolate, dark room. 

Rhaenyra had fingers pressed against her temple as she sat silently, and (Name) did the same, not speaking a word as she looks at the bandages wrapped around her mother's arm. When she eventually looks up from the arm, she notices her mother shaking a bit, but then realizes that tears are dripping down her mother's cheeks. 

(Name) Velaryon had discovered that her mother was a silent crier that night.

First chapter is angsty, but that's okay 

I love mom rhae <3

masterlist ☆

[separatist-apologist]

Lying In Between The Memories

You could call it paradise but it looks just like hell to me

Summary: Following the blood rite, Gwyneth Berdara can't shake the memories of a life long-gone.

The shadowsinger can't seem to move on after five centuries of loving the same woman.

Together, they'll have to carve a new path forward.

Read on AO3 | Chapter 1

It wasn’t every day the High Lord walked into the library. When Gwyn saw him from behind the stacks, she thought she must have hallucinated him. She wasn’t the only one—everyone stopped what they were doing to look at him, straight backed and elegant, though somehow casual. No crown, no cape, no trailing starlight to follow in his wake. Just the High Lord in a black and silver tunic and an easy smile on his face.

Gwyn didn’t hear what he asked for, ears buzzing with surprise. Clotho’s eyes found her across the room, nodding toward the High Lord.

“Me?” she whispered because surely not. Merril, perhaps. That made more sense. He’d come to talk with Merril and Gwyn was the person to take him to her. She stood utterly still as he made his way toward her, hunching ever so slightly as he approached. Cassian did the same thing, trying to make himself smaller so he seemed less imposing.

No one was scared of the High Lord, though. Awed, perhaps, but unlike Cassian and Azriel who looked like warriors, the High Lord merely looked like a slick courtier. No wings, no magic. Just a male who’d given them a home, a job, and a purpose. His protection when he could manage it and his vengeance when he could not.

Don’t think about Hybern, don’t think about Hybern—

“Gwyneth Berdara, correct?” Rhysand asked, his voice smoother than velvet. Gwyn blinked.

“Yes,” she whispered, balling her blue dress at her side.

“Can I buy you lunch?” he asked with an easy smile.

“Me?’ she squeaked, pinching herself subtly just to be sure this wasn’t all a very strange, very real dream.

“Yes, you,” Rhysand replied, his violet eyes pinned wholly on her. “We could go upstairs, if you like? Or into Velaris, if you’re agreeable.”

Choices. Gwyn liked that he was offering her a choice without any emphasis on his own preference. She couldn’t tell which he liked better, which she supposed was the point. No matter what she said, Rhysand would be delighted.

“Um,” she swallowed, thinking privacy might be best depending on what it was he was after. “Upstairs is good.”

“Lead the way,” he offered, gesturing toward the stairs. Nesta would be around somewhere, too. Gwyn hadn’t seen her in the library yet, at any rate, which was promising. Gwyn did as Rhysand asked, turning carefully toward the entrance of the library. Every eye was pinned to her, their curiosity burning against her spine. It would be all anyone wanted to speak about later and Gwyn wasn’t certain she wanted to be the center of their attention. 

Rhysand paced behind her, agile as a cat and seemingly unaware of the attention that followed him. Perhaps he was used to it, given he was the High Lord. Gwyn could imagine people were always staring at him. What was that like? 

Awful, she decided. 

That was why he was High Lord and she wasn’t. He could handle that attention while Gwyn decidedly could not. She liked being alone far too much and would have shriveled into dust if people were always looking at her like some kind of god. 

Gwyn led Rhysand up the stairs, turning when they reached the House itself, rather than continuing the trek up to the roof like she so always did. A pang of guilt flooded her when she remembered Emerie’s reproachful words. She had been avoiding them, evidenced by the fact that Gwyn couldn’t remember the last time she’d come to visit Nesta.

She opened the door to Cassian, dressed not in his usual training clothes but in a rather nice pair of black pants and well-tailored blue and silver tunic. He’d pulled half his shoulder length hair from his face and had shaved his typically stubbled face down to the skin.

Behind her, Rhysand chuckled.

“Big plans?”

“Shut it,” Cassian snapped, stepping out of the way so Gwyn could pass. “House is all yours.”

“Thanks,” Rhysand replied, smiling widely. Gwyn waited until Cassian vanished behind him, trailing the scent of cedar and pine in his wake. 

“He’s taking Nesta to the cabin,” Rhysand told Gwyn conspiratorially. She could read the subtext well enough, though she kept it to herself. It was strange enough to see the High Lord talking to her like she was a friend, let alone making a little joke at Cassian’s expense. 

She led Rhysand through the moonstone halls of the home that belonged to him, another thing that felt supremely weird. If it bothered him, he gave no indication of it. 

Rhysand dropped into a chair at the table, foregoing the head so he could seat himself across from her. He was strange—nothing like he ought to be. With a wave of his hand, Rhysand shortened the table so it would be easier to talk.

“Wine?” he asked, that tattooed hand still in the air.

“Um,” she began, wishing he’d just tell her what he wanted. “Sure.”

Another wave brought roasted chicken and bread rolls, a decanter of wine, and steaming, richly spiced vegetables. Rhysand poured two glasses, gesturing for her to help herself. 

Gwyn did, trying—and failing—to seem unbothered. Barely tasting that first bite, Gwyn waited for him to just say what he wanted. Had she done something? Was she being reprimanded, then? There was nothing she could think of, though she had been with his cousin the night before and like she always did, Gwyn had failed the obstacle course at the first row of enchanted warriors. Had Morrigan told him and he’d guessed the problem?

“So,” Rhysand began, unaware of her rising panic. “I have a job for you, if you’re interested.”

Gwyn’s fork clattered to the table, slipping from her nervous fingers. “A job?”

He smothered a smile. “Yes. Cassian suggested you might be a good fit for something I need.”

Gwyn couldn’t imagine being the first choice for any job. Not when Rhysand’s High Lady and cousin both seemed so capable. 

“Oh.”

Her inability to muster up any enthusiasm didn’t deter him. “You wouldn’t be alone. Azriel will be with you.”

Oh. What did he think of this job? Gwyn was tempted to ask and didn’t think she could stand to see that smile fade from the High Lord’s face as he assured her Azriel agreed with Cassian. Gwyn knew he hadn’t, and that was why the High Lord had come. Azriel had told Rhysand to break the news and Cassian had decided to slink off rather than get roped in. Did Nesta know, too? 

“What is the job?”

“An exchange of information,” Rhysand said slickly. “We’re building a relationship with Montessere. They’re curious about our history and some of our magic, and we’re curious about their history and their magic.”

“Why does Azriel need to be there for that?” she asked before thinking better of it. The High Lord’s gaze sharpened, his fork hovering between his plate and his mouth. 

“Would you believe me if I said he was there for your safety?”

“No,” she replied, deciding to just be honest. 

“Smart.” Rhysand took a bite, his expression thoughtful. Light bounced off his inky hair, gobbled up as though it couldn’t stand to touch him. “He has his own job.”

One the High Lord wasn’t willing to share. But Gwyn wasn’t entirely stupid and judging by the sly smile on his face, he knew it, too.

“So I’m a distraction.”

“I want whatever information you can get,” he replied, not bothering to deny her words. “And you may share things about Prythian within reason.”

“Will you provide me a list of what I can and cannot share?” she questioned, unsure if she’d accept the job. Leaving for months to the continent was almost an intolerable thought. Going with Azriel, who she could barely look at—who rarely spoke and wasn’t exactly what she’d call a friend? That seemed worse. She’d be alone, without her friends or the comfort of her routine.

“Of course,” Rhysand replied through another mouthful of food. “I’ll provide anything you need. And of course you’ll be compensated.”

As if she was concerned about that. “Can I think about it?” she asked him, her appetite gone beneath the realization that the High Lord had come to her, and she didn’t want to disappoint him. 

And she didn’t want to leave.

“You can,” Rhysand agreed, dabbing the corners of his mouth with a napkin she hadn’t seen him conjure. “It will take me some time to arrange it, so think it over. Talk with Nesta about it when she returns. I’m sure she’ll have thoughts.”

Nesta would tell Gwyn to do it, though. Of that, Gwyn had no doubt though it was clear Rhysand didn’t think so. Nesta would see it as a grand opportunity for adventure, to test out everything they’d been training for. She wasn’t even wrong—it was a chance to expand the knowledge of her court and the home she loved.

And it would be an adventure. Just…maybe not the kind she needed. And if she needed it, she didn’t think she wanted it. “It’s just…” 

Rhysand’s eyes softened as Gwyn tried to force the words from her throat.

“I’ve never left,” she finally concluded. “And my sister is here.” “We’ll keep her safe,” Rhysand told her, stretching his tattooed hand across the table. Tentatively, Gwyn accepted, surprised by the warmth of his skin. “And you, if you’d let us.”

“I’ll think about it,” she whispered, swallowing hard. Rhysand released her hand, reclining in his chair like this was a completely normal afternoon to him. Maybe it was. Maybe being High Lord included roaming his territory for people who could complete little jobs for him. 

“Let me know,” Rhysand said, rising from his chair with all the grace she’d expect from him. “Come by if you’re feeling up to it. My mate would love to meet you in person.”

The Feyre Archeron. Gwyn watched the High Lord smother a smile as though he’d guessed her thoughts. She didn’t think she had the nerve to meet the Cursebreaker in person. The High Lord was enough, at least for now. Gwyn nodded, heart thudding in her chest loud enough there was no way he couldn’t hear it. 

Assuming, of course, the stench of her fear wasn’t overwhelming him. The High Lord was too polite to ever say so and Gwyn too cowardly to ever admit what was frightening her. He didn’t seem like he’d ever been scared a day in his life.

Of course, if someone had put a sword to his sister's neck, he probably would have wiped them off the face of the map with a flick of his finger. Rhysand wouldn’t have been helpless, frozen with fear. 

Rhysand offered her a soft smile, his eyes filled with the all-too familiar pity. Gwyn flinched without meaning to. She hated that her past was so plain, a mark on her face for everyone to read. 

“I look forward to talking again,” he told her before sweeping out of the room in a trail of shadow and star-flecked night. Gwyn remained, practically plastered to her chair.

Drowning in indiscretion.

AZRIEL:

“I heard a rumor about you,” Feyre began, appearing seemingly from thin air. Azriel didn’t jump, though his High Lady had startled him. Looping her arm through his, Feyre adjusted the cloth bag of painting supplies on her shoulder until Azriel took them from her. There was a drying smudge of blue on her freckled cheek, a near match for those bright eyes of hers.

Feyre was happy, all but glowing beneath the gloomy afternoon sky. 

“Oh?” he finally asked when it was clear Feyre wasn’t going to tell him the rumor until he responded. 

“Were you out last night? With a female?”

Internally, Azriel groaned. Fucking Mor, he thought affectionately, trying—and failing—to be angry with her loose lips. Of course she’d skip right into breakfast that morning and tell her cousin and best friend his little escapades. 

“Was I?” he replied, suppressing a smile.

“Multiple, was the way I heard it. In the alley, and then a bathroom…and was there someone thrown over your shoulder?”

“No,” he replied, the thought rather amusing. “None of that happened.”

“Of course not,” Feyre teased, poking him in the rib. “But I did hear you slunk out with someone. Who was she?”

Azriel had no idea. He hadn’t asked for a name and she hadn’t provided one. That was how he preferred it, if he was honest. The point was the release, not to find someone he wanted to marry. Of course Feyre would want him to—it would make her family nice and tidy, and if there was one thing he knew about Feyre, it was her love of happy endings. And she’d never be satisfied until he was settled, too.

Even if he had a wife—and Azriel had no idea what he’d do with one—he doubted he’d ever feel settled. 

“No one,” he replied, bumping her gently with his shoulder. “Don’t concern yourself with my comings and goings.”

“Why shouldn’t I? We’re family, aren’t we?”

Azriel’s stomach went tight at the thought. He, Rhys, and Cassian were family…but even then, he often felt on the outside. Cassian and Rhys had been friends first and their friendship had always been easy and effortless. Azriel hadn’t known how to make friends back then, and sometimes now he still wondered what it was they even liked about him.

Sometimes, though he’d never admit it to his High Lady, Azriel could still hear Rhys’s fathers voice in his head, talking to him mind to mind as he’d so often done. Azriel hadn’t been allowed shields back then, not like Rhys so casually allowed now. And Azriel had never dared to tell Rhys the extent of what had gone on with his father.

Shadowsingers are valuable. My son has been hiding you…a weapon to use against me.

Azriel had vowed back then to be indispensable to the High Lord as a matter of survival. And when he’d died and Rhys ascended, he didn’t know how to stop. He merely made himself whatever Rhys needed him to be, terrified he’d wake up one day and realize Azriel wasn’t the sort of friend he wanted in the first place.

“Az?” Feyre waved her hand in front of his face. Or, she tried to. Feyre was too small to reach him, though he certainly enjoyed watching her jump up and try. All she succeeded in doing was smacking him on the cheek. 

Red faced, she gasped, “I’m sorry.”

“Unforgivable,” he replied flatly, letting her sweat it for a moment. “I’m telling your mate.”

Feyre relaxed. “I heard you’re going to Montessere,” she said, angling her jaw to look at him. No one paid them any mind as they strolled arm and arm down the street. It was a common enough occurrence, though Azriel would never get over the way people treated him.

Like a hero. A warrior god, someone they respected, that they paid deference to. It was clear, from the way Feyre angled away from those who bowed as she passed, that she felt the same. Azriel knew enough about Feyre’s humble beginnings, told to him mostly by Rhysand and Cassian. He’d never pry.

But sometimes he felt a kinship between himself and his High Lady, who only ever wanted peace and security. She, too, had made herself into a weapon, and had martyred herself upon that altar again and again.

Now she had it. Azriel would have died if it meant Feyre wore that effortless, easy smile. They all would have. She’d given them something they hadn’t had for decades—hope. Even Azriel felt it, was grateful in a way he couldn’t put into words. 

“As soon as Rhys works it out,” Azriel agreed, relaxing when they turned for the river. “Shouldn’t take too long.”

“Are you excited?”

That wasn’t the word he’d use, though he understood what Feyre meant. Are you scared? But if she asked him like that, he’d be honor bound to assure her nothing scared him. Azriel scanned the horizon, well-aware there were no threats hurtling toward them. Only the River House, glittering like a jewel even under an overcast sky. 

“Sure.”

“With a priestess?” she hedged, dancing around what she really wanted to ask. Azriel swallowed a sigh. He didn’t believe for a moment that Gwyn had agreed. At most, she’d told Rhys she’d think about it but Azriel knew full well he was going alone. “Or Lucien?”

He couldn’t help the growl. Feyre jabbed him with her elbow, her expression reproachful. “Don’t be like that.”

“Like what?” he asked, well aware Feyre didn’t like dissent in her ranks. For better or worse, they were all stuck with Lucien until Elain made a decision. Which was worse, he wondered? Lucien at every holiday or knowing one of the Archeron sisters would reject a mate? Both equally made his skin crawl.

Feyre only sighed with exasperation. He was grateful when she changed the subject to her shop, telling him of the children who’d come that day and how good they were getting at drawing little faces. Azriel liked these stories. The world was slowly reacclimating after the war. When he was away, bored or hurt or miserable, he’d think of these things.

Children, safe enough to learn to paint. His High Lady smiling as she made her way back to her own son who was just learning to wobble on two legs and would be flying before they could stop him. His friends, casual at dinner, gossiping about his love life.

It made the hard times seem worth it. 

Azriel left Feyre outside the River House, making some vague, generic excuse that Feyre almost certainly didn’t believe. She let him lie, though, and that was enough. Azriel took the sky, reveling in the wind on his wings, ruffling his hair as he landed not on the roof, but the outdoor exterior hall overlooking the mountains. Cold air faded in whatever magic kept the house running, and the smell of chicken beckoned him into the dining room.

He couldn’t remember the last actual meal he’d had. Making his way down the hall, he realized he’d have the house to himself for the next several days. Cassian had taken Nesta to the cabin which they were all grateful for, though Azriel didn’t relish returning anytime soon. Cassian was messy.

And loud.

Nesta wasn’t any better, though she was at least polite about it. 

Azriel rounded the corner, surprised to see Gwyn staring toward the wall of windows, her own food untouched on her plate. She held a fork between her fingers while coppery-brown hair spilled over shoulders clad in that distinct shade of priestess blue. Gwyn, like so many of the priestesses who came to training, weren’t anything like the ones in other temples. He often wondered what made them so different from the ones like Ianthe and her ilk.

Gwyn lacked their ambition, he supposed. 

She startled when he stepped in fully, intentionally making his steps heavy so she’d realize he was around. He would have done it sooner had he realized she was here. Waving a hand, he said,

“Stay,” when she started to rise.

“Did you know?” she accused, always ready for a fight. He felt his temper flare, though he settled it in favor of sitting at the shortened table.

“Yes.”

There was no point lying to her. Not if she might be working with him—he’d need her to trust him, just as he’d need to be able to trust her, too. He didn’t like the notion of relying on another person. 

Azriel worked solo for a reason. No one could let him down or disappoint him if he was on his own. 

“Thanks for warning me,” she grumbled, pushing out of her chair like a petulant child. Maybe Rhys was right—maybe Vanserra was the better choice. They would at least ignore each other like gentlemen, speaking only when it was absolutely required. 

“I was against it,” Azriel informed her, grateful when a plate of food materialized before him. Gwyn’s outrage vanished as he closed his eyes and took a deep gulp of wine. 

“Against me going?” she asked, and right then, Azriel realized his mistake. The one thing he’d always liked about Gwyn was that competitive streak of hers. It was almost cruel at times, though she seemed better at reigning it in before anyone got hurt. He recognized it, though, because his ran just as hot, was just as vicious. 

If he’d thought his words through, he would have told her she would be a perfect fit and he was excited for her to join him. And Gwyn, contrary by nature, would have given herself permission not to go because he wanted her to.

But now she knew he didn’t think she was cut out for it. And whatever doubts she had, of which Azriel was certain she harbored, were all being shoved to the side in favor of proving him wrong. 

Fuck me.

He sighed, scrambling silently to fix his mistake. “I work better alone,” he tried to explain. But the damage was done. Those teal eyes of hers were narrowed, nostrils flared in indignation.

“What do you know about research?” she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What do you know about torture?” he replied. Gwyn didn’t flinch the way most people did, didn’t shrink back wide-eyed and scared. He was trying to convince her not to go and thought reminding her of his true title, torture master for the Night Court, might dissuade her. Unbidden, he thought of Elain Archeron and how her spine had curved inward when Feyre had so flippantly made a joke about his methods over breakfast one morning. She'd been casual, nonchalant even, though Azriel had once seen the discomfort in his High Lady's eyes, too. Only Nesta regarded him without any fear. 

Nesta, and now Gwyn. 

“I could figure it out from a book,” she shot back. “Can you even read?”

“Why would I need to learn to read when I’m so good with a weapon?” he replied evenly. It was tempting to pull his dagger out and twirl it about, and Gwyn was likely to challenge him to a duel—one she’d lose—in the middle of lunch. Not that it would frighten her off. Everyone was a afraid of something. Usually that something was him. But for Gwyn, the notion that he might enjoy torturing to the point it consumed all other activities he might engage in, seemed to roll off her shoulders. 

“You can’t do this job without me.”

Agree with her, dumbass.

“I could do it far easier and faster without you,” he replied, his temper getting the best of him. Azriel never could resist a challenge. 

“No you can’t,” she said, leaning back in her chair. There was no satisfaction in her expression, though. Gwyn’s doubt was a palpable thing, recognizable to Azriel who was, too often, filled with nothing but doubt. He was the wrong male to reassure her. If she wanted that, she’d have to wait for Cassian to return. 

Sighing, he said, “Gwyn—”

“Shove it,” she snapped, rising from her chair. Azriel watched her go, likely marching straight down to Rhys to tell him she’d gladly take the mission. And in truth, she’d probably be just fine. He’d lock her up in the library while he got what he needed and whisk her away before she caused any mischief. In and out in a month, tops. Rhys would be satisfied, Gwyn would go back to the library and training with Nesta and Azriel would continue on.

Just as he always had.

[docholligay]

The raison d’etre for this trip, in its conception, was to see the Christmas markets of Germany and the UK. I don’t know if I’ll say that is actually how it turned out, given how many UK markets Mom has taken a quick turn around and then decided to go do something else, like sit in a pub or sit in a different pub*. It must be said that, in this department, Germany beats the UK as rightly and soundly as [insert inappropriate WWII joke here]. The Christmas ‘markets’ in the UK are largely consisting, at least based on my survey of four large and major ones, repackaged items that are largely not handcrafted by the seller, a lot of food stalls, and, bless it, a number of bars. Not a bad tme if I lived in any of these cities but assuredly not something worth crossing that Atlantic for. 

But the German Christmas markets were mostly as advertised. Even the more commercial among them had foods that carried the air of the traditional, made extensive effort to continue the line of culture that had been there for generations, and curled around themselves in long circles that invited more of a chance to meander than a strict row system that kept you going down a shooting gallery of booths. The Frankfurt market, even straight off the plane ride with a roughly 3 hour night, dazzled with its sense of history and its easy strolls through to the bar. It was at this market that I tried what I might call, “The drink of the trip”

Fuerzangenbowle, the best hot alcoholic drink I had never encountered even in writing, even in passing, truly a genius invention.** What this is, is mulled wine, already getting points from me, but then they soak a cone of sugar in rum and light it on fire so it drips down into the wine. I would have told you i wouldn’t care for that because it would make it too sweet, but it really doesn’t. What it does, is add a note of toasted caramel to the wine, a slightly burnt taste that adds to the larger whole. It is so good, that I am going to go home and see if I can buy some kind of piloncillo that’s small enough to work for the single serving cup. I don’t know that I would try and make it for a crowd, I’ll leave that to the professionals, but I do love lighting things on fire as my wife will, sighing heavily, attest to. 

All of them were good, and Cologne in general was much more charming than I had been led to believe it would be, but it was there we came upon the best market of them all: 

The old town market. 

We stopped there simply because it was the next place on the little train that takes you from market to market, but I was immediately captured by it. Busy and crowded, people miling around each other like little bees, the hum of their voices uniting into a low buzz. A violin plays “Come Emmanuel” at the door, and the long, high voice of it carries above and weaves through. The bright and bustle as the lights glow against the darkness, fairytale in the way that I could never hope to describe to another human being. I had to take a breath as i stepped inside. It was a Christmas market as you imagine them, a watercolor made real, the cold of the air touching your cheeks, the smell of mulled wine in the air, all of it immediate and total. All of it something that somehow seemed a dream, as if i’d been pulled into a book though admittedly in my fairy story slightly less people would be wearing beanies and puffy jackets, but what is fantasy without a little grime on it? 

In this one it also seemed that the traders had been vetted to some extent in the main square, and so was near-exclusively people who had made the objects in their booths. We spoke to people when possible, given my hilariously limited German, about their stuff, and gawked at it, and I bought a little mug for my daughter with her name on it, that the woman painted right in front of us. 

Whether the rest of the markets were a disappointment*** or not was hardly material at this point, because my mother was so entranced by the old market. She spoke of it all the time on the trip, as we were going through other markets, as we sat in a pub, as we put on our pajamas. I think it will probably take the crown for experiences on this trip. I can think of only a few that might unseat it. My mother’s face as we wandered through the market was all the confirmation I needed that this was the right choice. 

And so I am delighted to inform myself that Germany was a success. I said I would never return there, I let myself be talked into it, and I had a wonderful time. 

*This sounds like a complaint, but is full of delight. I have two favorite things to do when I travel: Walk miles and miles around a city (absolutely not happening here, there is a hot short list of people in my life who can walk as fast and far as I can) and go to pubs, bars, etc where there are a fair amount of locals and people like to talk. See my unwieldy essay on how much I like people for reference. 

**The best mulled wine I had, however, does in fact go to the UK. Specifically, Peacock’s Tea Room in Ely had the absolute best mulled wine I had in the entire trip, the seasoning was exceptional, it was not overly sweet, the cup contained some soaked fruit and sliced almonds, it was truly exceptional and I know I’ll be trying to style my mulled wine off it for a long while. 

***Things are rarely a true disappointment to me because I operate on the idea that everything in life is a lesson, is information, and if it wasn’t what I built up in my head, that is information, and it’s information I can pass on to others. Sometimes i love a miserable story as much as a successful one. Attitude can change the color of many situations, and I tend to be very adpatable and cheerful, and also i froze to death or it was crowded or whatever whatever is more often than not, not what I will carry away from any given situation. But, this is somewhat unique to me and I’ve spent a long time cultivating a sense of appreciation for these things, so I felt a little bad for my mom. 

[rainydaywhump]

Whump Drabble: Reed 5

<- Pt. 4 - Pt. 6 ->

CWs: shame from trauma; briefly referenced noncon and torture involving knives; recovering whumpee; brand scar

When Reed opened his eyes, he only knew one thing.

“Hey, slow down,” he heard Cervine say in surprise as he pushed himself off the cot and stumbled out of the cave. She followed, no doubt to catch him if he fell in a faint; Reed was grateful for that because he did feel lightheaded and groggy and everything else that came with being semiconscious for the past two days, but he was determined to finish what he’d set out to do before letting himself fall.

“Reed, what are – oh. Aha. I suppose this means you are adequately hydrated.”

Reed let out a sigh of relief as he finished pissing on a boulder next to the one that their makeshift cave shelter was hollowed in. Suddenly able to focus on the rest of his body, he swayed on his feet.

Cervine caught him and led him back to the cave entrance. “Better now?” she asked dryly.

“N-“ Reed’s mouth tasted disgusting, and his voice was pained from misuse. He gratefully accepted more water and said after several swigs, “Yes.”

He looked up at her, and suddenly the juxtaposition between the two of them hit him with full force.

Cervine looked wide awake and ready to spring into action at a second’s notice. She wore half her leather armor and carried at least two knives that he could make out; she undoubtedly had more on her person. Her sleeveless tunic revealed muscles that could only be achieved in the field, not in training.

For the first time, Reed managed to get a good look at her face. Cervine’s straight black hair framed lake-dark blue eyes and a handful of old, faded scars on her cheek and shoulders. Her eyebrows were sharp and her gaze was flinty. She had several sunspots smattered on her nose and chin, and her nose was narrow and angular – much like the rest of her, he thought. One particularly nasty old scar crossed it.

Reed, meanwhile, sat half-slumped against her with nothing other than a woven sheet (one that she must have brought out, because he certainly hadn’t bothered to) over him, the weak morning sun revealing more than he’d expected when he looked down at himself. He flinched at the sight of the brand from that night. Cervine had done an amazing job of helping it fight off infection and further damage, and he knew he should be grateful for that. But just the sight of it…

“—with me? Hey. Reed, look at me.”

He snapped his eyes up to meet hers. To his embarrassment, tears sprung at the corners of his own.

As if reading his mind, Cervine arched an eyebrow. “Tears are normal,” she said. “I would ask you to let them out as you please, but I personally always like to eat before I cry.”

Reed realized how hungry he was and nodded.

One stick of roasted roots and greens later, he sat back in the grass and stared up at the clouds that lazily drifted overhead. He wished for a moment that he could stay here forever away from the carnage of war. But he knew that this was merely an in-between space, and he had a duty to fulfill.

Cervine had gone back into their shelter and returned with a bundle of cloth and medical supplies. As she sat beside him, Reed forced himself to ask, “My…my mission. The message I was to deliver. Did…did anyone else…?”

He felt pathetic. He had failed a few missions before – shit happens, and the most experienced agents knew that bad luck can topple even the best-made plans – but the idea of someone else taking on this relatively simple message delivery while he was hogtied and staring at the enemy’s boots made him feel horribly small.

“Yes,” Cervine replied. Reed tried to make himself feel glad. That message was important; it would do no good for no one to deliver it in his absence. “As far as I know, the war effort is still going as planned.

“I’ve also sent a messenger bird to send word that I’ve recovered you. I’d rather not start traveling until you are healed somewhat more.”

Reed wavered somewhere between I’m fine to travel and Where are you taking me? And the latter popped out of his mouth before he could suppress it.

“To the base. Where else?”

“I thought…”

“I’m not the enemy, Reed,” Cervine said quietly.

“I know. I just…well, part of me thought I’d never see it again. All of me, actually. It’s…it’s taking some time for me to realize that all this –” he gestured at the empty wooden bowl, at Cervine, at the cave – “is real. That I’m going back.”

It was Cervine’s turn to be quiet now. In the silence, Reed’s thoughts continued. He imagined coming back to the army encampment, his scars protruding and the inevitable “What happened to you?” sending him scrambling for an answer that hid the deep sense of shame he felt now.

“I feel…” Reed hesitated. “Vulnerable.”

He wasn’t even thinking of his physical self, but Cervine’s eyes widened and she snapped her fingers. “I completely forgot. I have clothes for you.”

She had misinterpreted his words; Reed felt completely secure around her. He didn’t feel physically vulnerable at all. But he gratefully accepted her spare tunic and a pair of leather pants, which she had rather clumsily altered in an effort to make them fit him. Reed knew how to mend and alter clothes, so that was no problem.

“There is also this,” Cervine said, holding out the dagger she’d given him on his first day.

Reed didn’t take it. “I feel safe around you,” he said. “I know you aren’t the enemy.”

She cocked her head, confused. “I thought you would have feared the risk of an outside danger.”

Reed had not considered this, and the realization alarmed him. How could he have dropped his guard so easily? Being in this agent’s care had lulled him into a false sense of security; he had to remind himself that they were still in a contested region, isolated as it might be. “Cervine,” he said, fear mounting in his chest, “what…”

What happened to the group that tortured me?

But he couldn’t bring himself to ask that. He was too scared.

“…What did you say to people after you were hurt on a mission?” he heard himself say instead.

Cervine blinked, for once caught off-balance. Then her expression slid back to normal. “Ah. You were looking at the scar across my nose, were you not?”

Reed suddenly realized how rude that was and he looked away. “Sorry. I – I don’t know where that came from.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll tell you.” Cervine laid a hand on his shoulder. “I told them whatever I wanted to in the moment. Some, such as my commanding officer, I told the truth. Others, I told an abridged version; at times, I simply said that I would not talk about it. If people did not respect that, then that was their problem.”

She made it sound so easy, Reed thought.

“Did they…did they ask why you didn’t want to talk about it?”

“Some,” she said. “Are you asking?”

“I’m not sure.”

“I don’t like to talk about it because I lost someone very close to me while receiving it,” she explained.

Reed felt smaller than ever. He had lost no one during his ordeal at the hands of the Halyen soldiers. They had broken him and him alone; for him to be defeated like that seemed weak and unnoble compared to Cervine’s situation, in which another had suffered, too.

 “Do you want to talk about what they did to you?”

Reed flinched, and her hand was on his shoulder again. He wanted to lean back into her side, but he couldn’t bring himself to accept that.

“I don’t know how much you already know,” he whispered.

“Do you want me to tell you?”

He finally got up the nerve to look up at her, and her gaze was nothing but gentle and patient.

Reed felt sick. He did not deserve this, and her patience was suffocating.

“Stop treating me like I’m fragile,” he snapped. “I’ve been raped and burned and sliced open a dozen different ways. I survived all that. I’m fine.”

He flinched preemptively, instinctively expecting rebuke. But, to his immense relief, Cervine didn’t push the subject. Instead she stood and offered a hand to help him up.

“There’s a stream downhill, and I’d like to pack food for the trip back so we don’t have to stop and forage. Could you help me?”

Reed stood immediately, ignoring the way the ground swooped out from under him, and pulled on the trousers she’d lent him. The sensation of borrowed clothes made him feel even more weak than before, but he was glad to be moving, to be of some use.

If Cervine saw his unsteady gait or the way he hastily wiped tears from his eyes, she was merciful enough not to comment.

@i-eat-worlds @pigeonwhumps @starfields08000 (lmk if you'd like to be added or removed)

[inkedroplets]

From the fanfiction trope mash-up: 80 (Green-Eyed Epiphany) + 10 (Airport/Travel AU)

It was just easier for me to write a ficlet, hope you like it!

"Kelly thinks they might patch things up while they're away."

Kara had been so invested in people-watching; her attention drawn to a couple who were engaged in a very tearful goodbye that wouldn't have looked out of place in a romcom, she thought she might have misheard Alex at first.

"Patch things up? I think things between Lena and Andrea have been fine for a while," she said and gestured toward the airport security gates that she had watched the both of them walk through just minutes ago. "Lena wouldn't have offered to go with her otherwise," she reasoned. Andrea had called a meeting earlier in the week at CatCo to let everyone know she would be taking some personal time to attend a funeral back where she had attended boarding school. Kara had found out later that evening when she had stopped by L-Corp to bring Lena dinner that Lena was planning to accompany her to the funeral.

"Not what I meant at all," Alex muttered. She glanced sideways at Kara, looking like she very much regretted even broaching the subject but when Kara furrowed her brow she plowed onward. "Kelly just meant that there's a precedent for people to rekindle things when one of them is grie—"

"R-rekindle?" Kara spluttered, looking at Alex very carefully to make sure she wasn't trying (and failing) to tell a very bad joke. "They never dated, Alex. You can't rekindle something that was never there to begin with. There's nothing to..." she trailed off, trying and failing to find the word she was looking for. "Kindle..." she murmured, knowing that wasn't right.

"Forget I said anything," Alex groaned. She fished her car keys out of her pocket and jangled them the same way one might when trying to entertain a newborn. "If you don't want to fly home," she warned and began walking back towards the entrance.

Kara followed along in Alex's wake for a few steps, deep in thought before she caught up easily, keeping pace even as Alex tried to speed up. "It's just—"

"My fault for even bringing it up."

"ridiculous," Kara finished. "I know they had a falling out but they never dated," Kara said, looking around as if there was someone standing close by that could verify what Kara believed to be true.

"Mmm," Alex hummed, seemingly uninterested in continuing the discussion. But when Kara flashed her a very smug, very triumphant smile, she seemed to change her mind. "Well, that's not what Nia told me..."

"What did Nia tell you?" Kara asked, coming to a halt and tugging on Alex's arm so that she was forced to as well, vaguely aware that she could feel her heart beating more keenly than usual.

"Kara..."

"Alex," Kara rapped back.

Rolling her eyes, Alex let out a theatrical sigh. "Nia asked Lena one day about her and Andrea. I don't know when," she added very quickly, somehow knowing that would be Kara's next question.

"And?"

"And they dated," Alex said and shrugged as if to say 'there, that wasn't so bad, was it?'.

"Lena never told me that they dated," Kara murmured and there was an unmistakable tinge of hurt in her voice that Alex immediately picked up on, the look of irritation on her face being replaced by a much kinder one.

"It was a long time ago, Kara. Ages ago. I'm sure that Lena never brought it up because to her it's ancient history."

"She told Nia," Kara shot back and realized how petty she must have sounded, feeling guilty.

"Well," Alex said, looking all the more regretful that she had led them down this path. "Nia is Nia and You're you," she said and prodded her gently on the shoulder.

"What do you mean by that?" Kara asked, looking back at Alex, puzzled.

"Oh no," Alex said and clasped Kara's other wrist gently and tugged. "I'm not having that conversation in a busy airport."

Back on the road and heading back to National City, Kara sat in the passenger seat in silence for nearly ten minutes before she found it impossible to keep quiet any longer.

"Andrea is not the right fit for Lena," she said, speaking out loud, more to herself than Alex, but that didn't stop her from glancing over at Alex who only appeared to focus even more on the road than she already was.

"Andrea called game night a stupid idea once," Kara said, looking straight at Alex, speaking in a voice just above a whisper, as if to spare Andrea the embarrassment of anyone else overhearing something so scandalous.

"The nerve," Alex replied in a dull monotone.

"Yeah," Kara agreed, nodding heartily. "So even if Lena dragged her along to game night, she'd be a pretty lousy partner..."

"And you'd need to find a new partner..."

"I..." Kara felt as if she had been punched with that revelation, too stunned to reply, falling silent again. But not for very long.

"And not to badmouth Andrea," Kara said carefully.

"Perish the thought," Alex said, not taking her eyes off the road.

"But Lena," she said and laughed as if that was an answer in and of itself.

"Lena what?"

"Lena is Lena," Kara said. "She can do a whole lot better than Andrea. Not that there's anything wrong with Andrea," she added very quickly.

"And that's your completely unbiased opinion?" Alex asked, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel.

"Anyone who knows Lena would think the same thing, Alex..." she said patiently, as if she were explaining something incredibly simple to her.

"Okay... So if someone as beautiful and as rich as Andrea is out, who does that leave exactly?" Alex took her eyes off the road for a moment to goggle at Kara. "Wonder Woman?"

"No! Not her either! I don't know," Kara said, now her turn to regret starting the conversation.

"I do," Alex muttered darkly but made no further attempt to engage her in conversation.

Even in first class, Andrea never found it easy to fall asleep. Even the smallest noises seemed too loud to her and the strange tapping that had started up had joined the low drone of conversation and clinking of silverware and glasses.

She re-adjusted her eye mask, knowing it would do nothing to mask the noise, but hoping it would anyway. If anything it only seemed to make the sound even louder.

Probably the engine, she thought darkly, just my luck, before realizing it was coming from the window...

She nudged the hard plastic curtain up a few inches and let out a gasp, her hand that had been resting Lena's arm tightening to a deathgrip.

"Gremlin on the wing?" Lena asked groggily, stirring in the seat beside her.

"No," Andrea said, reaching up to nudge the call button, very much wanting a drink. "Kryptonian," she said and opened the window to reveal Supergirl flying perpendicular with the plane. To Andrea, she almost appeared to be blushing.



[archiveikemen]

'Wicked Love Blooming In The Dark Night' Story Event: Bitter END

Liam's Route

I do not own any of the Ikemen Series content being uploaded on this blog, everything belongs to CYBIRD. Please support them by playing their games and buying stories. Not 100% accurate, expect mistakes.

read this before interacting with my posts

(Mm…)

I woke up when I felt a tap on my shoulder, and saw a very uneasy Melissa looking at me.

Kate: What’s the matter? What happened?

Melissa: When I woke up, I couldn't see Liam anywhere.

(... He really isn’t here.)

Kate: Don’t worry, he must be around here somewhere. Let’s look for him together.

Melissa: Okay! Hehe, this is like hide-and-seek.

Melissa: Playing hide-and-seek is my forte. Let’s go, Kate!

Kate: Woah…!

…

Melissa led me by the arm and went to all sorts of places in search of Liam.

Kate: Hm… I don’t see him.

Melissa: Oh, maybe he’s outside!

The backyard of the orphanage was a thick forest.

(I don’t think he’ll go to that sort of place. Where on earth did he go?)

Just then, I heard a faint voice coming from deeper in the forest.

(... Liam?)

With Melissa’s hand in mine, I moved in the direction of that voice, and when I spotted Liam—

Workhouse Employee: Why did you invite me out to a place like this?

(Is that an employee?)

Liam: I have some business to settle with you.

Liam: What’s this?

Liam held out what looked like a stack of documents.

Workhouse Employee: … How did you get hold of that!

Liam: Haha, if you’re that worried, then you should’ve kept it somewhere out of plain sight.

Liam: It’s not going to be good if an outsider like me were to sneak in and find it, right?

(Sneak in? … Ah.)

– Flashback Start –

Kate: What on earth were you doing here?

Liam: Hm? I was playing hide-and-seek. The children invited me to play with them.

– Flashback End –

(Could it be that he was looking for those documents back then?)

(In that case—)

Liam: You were entrusted with the task of handling the adoption process for the children.

Liam: People thought that… when the children get adopted, it’s an auspicious and joyous moment.

Liam: However, the truth is—

(No way.)

I quickly covered Melissa’s ears with my palms.

Liam: You sold the children to those evil guys… that’s right, you were involved in human trafficking.

(W-What the…)

Workhouse Employee: … How much?

Liam: … Hm?

Workhouse Employee: You want money, don’t you? Do stage actors make an unexpectedly small amount of profit?

Workhouse Employee: Say it, how much money do you want? Let’s put an end to this conversation.

Liam: … Haha. You’re right. Well then…

Liam pulled out a knife with a practised hand and raised it overhead—

Liam: — Shall I take your life?

(... *gulp*)

I picked Melissa up in my arms and fled the scene as fast as I could.

…

Kate: *pant*... *pant*...

Melissa: … Kate, are you okay?

Kate: Ah… y-yeah. Sorry for grabbing you all of a sudden.

Melissa: It’s fine. Hey, Kate. What was Liam doing out there?

I couldn't tell her about the existence of Crown and their activities. Absolutely not.

If she were to know about them — her life would not be spared.

Kate: Maybe he was rehearsing for a play. He’s not back yet, so let’s get some sleep while waiting for him.

Melissa: …? Mm, okay. Wake me up when Liam comes back.

Melissa: I have lots of stuff to talk about.

Kate: … Sure.

I laid down next to Melissa to put her back to sleep.

(Liam isn’t here as a stage actor.)

(From the very beginning, his purpose in coming here was to complete a mission under the orders of Her Majesty.)

(But I’m the fairytale writer, why would he hide it from me—)

– Flashback Start –

Liam: Hey, Kate. How do you want your day to go today?

Liam: It’s fine, it's fine. No need to think too hard about it, just tell me.

Kate: I’d like my day to be as peaceful as possible.

– Flashback End –

(Could… could it be that…)

(It’s because of my wish earlier today?)

Just then, I heard the door open, and reflexively turned my back to the entrance.

The sound of footsteps drew closer, a sweet vanilla scent filled the air.

Liam’s hand gently stroked my hair.

Liam: …

The hand that had just taken a life was so gentle—.

His gentle hands made me recall Harrison’s words.

Just a word of advice. That guy will never do anything you don't want him to.

Especially when you’re someone important to him.

However, if you look at this from a different perspective—

(If we look at it from a different perspective, that also means that he’ll do “whatever I want”?)

Granting someone’s wishes was an act of kindness, but I had a feeling that there was something off about Liam’s kindness.

I was baffled by his pure stubbornness, like that of a child obeying commands.

(I thought Liam was like a star. That wasn't a mistake, nor a lie.)

However, beyond that glow, Liam had a darkness lurking deep inside him.

Then, a slightly husky voice spoke up above my head.

Liam: I’ll get rid of all your fears. Everything, all of it, I’ll make them disappear.

Liam: Stuff like fighting scary things and getting hurt… leave it all to me, and me alone.

That voice sounded so hurt, I froze.

(What should I say to him?)

(What… can I do for him?)

No matter how hard I thought about it, I couldn’t arrive at an answer.

But I wanted to smile at Liam the next time our eyes met — that, I knew for certain.

[itsgoghtime]

World in Color

Chapter I

Words : 4446

CW : a few lil cliches, absolutely tooth rotting fluff - you will not have teeth by the end of this one

taglist : @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @valmare

October 22, 2002 - Wisconsin State Fair

Asphault. Cement. Metal creaking every which way.

And people. Lots of people.

Will didn't even really want to be here. His sister had called him when he had finished his last contract as he returned to the United States, asking him to come back home and visit. Unable to tell her no, knowing that her declining health was limiting their time together, he reluctantly came back to Wisconsin for the State Fair.

Erin was more quiet than usual. Surely, from her treatments, Will thought to himself. But he didn't mind. They'd always been in sync, and while silence had never been her preference, it was quiet between them. Her husband had taken the kids so the siblings could spend some time alone.

Well, not that solidarity could be found in a park with thousands of people.

Will wouldn't admit it openly, but he had missed this. He could close his eyes and still somehow drink it all in. The delighted screams of children on rides his stomach and his head could no longer handle. The rich, foggy scent that any sort of fried food naturally brings with it. The cold ripples on the metal bleachers in the show building for animals that he had always loved as a kid.

Breaking his train of thought, Erin pulled him into the Wisconsin product pavilion. It had never been Will's favorite, but he went because she wanted to. It was the building that held all the quilting contest displays, vegetable displays - the annual dairy products contest. This - this is where all the hard work went.

His eyes studied in his usual methodical way. Scanned...

Tone.

Her.

Despite being conditioned to bottle up and ignore many of his emotions since he was a child, Will now found his heart palpitating in a pattern he had never experienced.

He had already been on several tours - and with the way the world was looking, he'd probably be headed out again. He had fulfilled several private contracts under those tours. Seen things he had never needed to. Smirked in the face of danger that had always seemed to follow him even from his childhood. Pulled the trigger, no fear.

But here?

He was certain he'd found his kryptonite at the pie making contest table.

It started with her eyes. It wasn't the color, although that was alluring too. No, her eyes spoke of gentleness, a sweet sort of patience, and kindness Will had never seen before.

His eyes then traveled to her lips, admiring their shape - and the way her smile lit up the entire room. It was dazzling.

Will then studied her hair. It looked so soft, and somehow just so... her.

Erin must have noticed, because she nudged his arm, bringing him back to the loud murmur of voices from within the building, far away from his moment stopped in time.

His sister smirked at him. Will shook his head. Before he could do anything, Erin took his arm and led him to the blue ribbon table.

Blue ribbon. Not only was this angel sporting a winning aura, she had the blue ribbon on her pie to show for it. Will was entranced.

Erin was making pleasant conversation, and for the first time, Will found his gaze falling to his shoes, studying how the camouflage fabric of his pants covered about two inches of them. He was trying to ignore the rising heat in his cheeks, and in this attempt, missed her eyes wandering over him.

What was happening to him?

"... and this is my brother, Will." Erin's voice pulled Will back to reality, and for the very first time, his eyes met hers.

Kryptonite.

"Nice to meet you, Will." Her voice was soft like honey, sweet and clear in its intention as she held her hand out to greet him.

The moment Will took her hand in his, it felt like his world was spinning in color. Her skin was soft against his callouses, a perfect fit in his large hand. Time seemed to stop again, and as his eyes studied hers, he could see the feeling hadn't escaped her either.

Will found him swapping his regular closed envelope smile to a full one, unable to keep it from her.

Erin definitely noticed, as she nudged Will after he let go of her hand.

"Would you like to try some? I don't have a lot left, but it's the least I can do to show you how much I appreciate you stopping to talk to me. No one has stopped all morning." Her laugh that followed was the sweetest thing Will could have ever imagined. He'd do anything to hear it again. He realized if Erin hadn't brought him in here, he never would have heard it, as he didn't really ever give a second look to this building, unless it was to get ice cream or something. He made a mental note to thank Erin later.

"We would love some! But, if I may, I have a favor to ask of you." Erin replied. Will could see the mischief in her eyes, and he held his breath. Surely, she wouldn't...

"Of course." The woman replied, her eyes lingering on Will before turning her attention back to Erin.

"I need to get back to my husband and my kids - and I don't want my brother to be alone for the rest of the day - would you mind..."

Will pulled Erin aside, giving her a warning look as his hands rested on her shoulders.

"Erin. Don't."

"Will, I don't have a lot of time left. I need to make sure you're taken care of." Erin replied, stubborn as ever. From the outside, it just seemed as though a concerned sister was taking care of her brother. But Will knew this was more than momentary concern.

When he looked back, he saw her looking at him, and she ducked her head with a blush. She chuckled again, her eyes meeting his.

"I wouldn't mind, if you don't, Will." Her gaze returned to her hands in front of her, wringing them together. She's nervous. "I mean, you don't have to, I don't want to seem like I'm forcing anyth..."

"I'd love to." Will responded almost immediately, smiling softly at her once more.

The way her eyes sparkled as she lifted her head to look at him again, and the way she smiled at him...Will's heart pounded.

"I've got to be here till 4, you could meet me here." She blushed again. "I'm sure there's more to the fair you want to see."

"Actually, I've seen it all, pretty much. I could... stay here with you." It was now Will's turn to blush. Her excited expression did not help. Not that he minded.

Erin said her goodbyes and winked at Will as she left. He wasn't aware that it made both him and his new friend blush.

♡ ♡ ♡

The next couple hours, he made casual conversation as they waited at the pie table. It was easy to talk to her - Will discovered they had a lot in common, and as things continued to unfold, Will found himself talking more than he had to anyone - even his sister.

Four o'clock finally arrived. She sighed in relief as the judges ushered her away from her spot in the front row. They moved her to take a picture with her winning slice of pie they had set in a refrigerator, then pinning her ribbon to her chest.

"Are you the boyfriend?" The photographer asked.

Will didn't think he had ever been more red. But his stuttering kept him from answering fast enough, and he was being shoved into the view of the camera.

She gave him an apologetic look, and his embarrassment melted.

"You alright if I hug you?" His voice softened as he looked down at her, and her blush deepened as her smile widened.

"Yeah, that's fine." She wrapped her arm around his middle as his went around her waist. It felt so natural. Will promised himself he wouldn't think too hard about it. The tingling in the tips of his fingers said otherwise.

The photographer handed each of them a Polaroid of their picture, and said they'd send a copy of the magazine to her apartment.

Will kept his hand on the small of her back and led her out of the photo booth.

"Where would you like to go?" He asked softly.

She stuttered a little at his hand still on her back, her blush still prominent.

"Umm... I don't know. But as proud as I am of my pie, I don't want to carry it around while we're out." Those adorable eyes looked up at him, melting him again. "Would you help me eat it?"

Oh, what Will wouldn't do for this sweet girl.

"Sure."

There was that lovely smile again. She took her fork, taking a bite sized portion onto it. Her blush only increased as she lifted the fork up towards him.

Will opened his mouth and had the first bite of pie. As intimate as the moment felt, Will had never felt more comfortable with anyone in his life. And when the pie hit his tongue, his eyes closed.

"How is it?" Her dulcet voice asked.

Will chewed slowly. Pumpkin pie had never been his favorite. But the way these flavors came together, the creamy texture and the flakiness of her crust... Will was in heaven. His smile grew, and he opened his eyes again.

"Magnificent."

Her sigh of relief did not go unnoticed. "Oh good. I suppose there was a reason I won first." She looked down at her feet before meeting his gaze again. "I've been trying for years. Finally felt like my recipe was superb enough to enter."

Will's heart wanted to tell her she was irresistible enough she could win it just by being herself, but decided that was too forward.

They finished the rest of the slice together, and Will led her outside.

"You said you'd been around all of the fair, right?" She asked, looking up at him.

Will chuckled. "Maybe not all of it, but enough to get my bearings... are you alright?"

When his gaze returned to her, she was frozen in place. Will repeated her precious name, and still couldn't quite shake her from her gaze. His eyes scanned the crowd for anything that might frighten her. Despite only knowing her for a few hours, Will found his chest tightening and his arms tensing over the thought of her being afraid of anything.

"What's wrong, Pumpkin?"

Her eyes shot up at his nickname for her, and she smiled as her cheeks heated.

"Pumpkin?" She asked quietly.

He could swear his entire being lit up in a soft red.

"I-I mean..."

"I like it." She smiled, sighing softly. "There's just... there's someone - over by the funnel cake stand I was wanting to take you to - that I am not particularly fond of."

"Not fond of meaning..."

"They don't like me. And they're really good at making it public."

Will scanned, and his eyes landed on who he thought it could be. Stereotype of someone fitting that description, anyways. He described this person to her, and her gaze fell to her feet as she nodded in confirmation. He could see the person begin to come their way, after he noticed their recognition of her. In an instant, he looked down at the innocent girl in front of him.

"Do you trust me, Pumpkin?" Will hesitantly asked.

She nodded, her gaze returning up to his as her brow furrowed in worry.

With more confidence than he had ever had in his entire life, his lips found their way to hers, and he cupped her sweet face in his hands. Will took note of how her eyes fluttered shut, and closed his own soon after.

The kiss was pure magic - fluttering in his stomach and out the tips of his fingers on her warm skin. He couldn't think of anything else that had ever - or would ever compare. And it didn't last long enough.

They were soon pulling apart, her hands landing on his chest as her eyes remained half lidded, her chin angled to study him with a soft, love-drunk smile.

She could practically see the apology written in his eyes, and before his mouth could form it, her lips were back on his. One of Will's hands left her cheek to instinctively pull her hip closer to him. Just like their accidental embrace in the photo booth earlier, it felt so natural.

He connected his forehead with hers as they pulled apart, and he about exploded with affection when she bumped her nose against his.

"I think we successfully diverted your friend." Will chuckled, trying to ignore his heart that was practically going to sprint out of his chest.

This made her laugh. Will added this to his mental tally of times he had successfully done so.

"How did you..."

"How did I know it would work? Well, to tell you the truth, I didn't."

Pumpkin laughed again. "No, I mean... how did you know I felt that way?" Her blush was deepening by the second.

"I knew it the moment we met." Will's tone softened slightly as he brushed his thumb along her cheekbone.

"You said you wanted to get funnel cake from that stand?" His gaze moved to their previously forgotten destination.

"Yeah, it's been taunting me all day and it smells really good."

"Well, if you want superb funnel cake, it's not at that stand. Come with me." Will held his hand out for her, and she took it with a smile, intertwining their fingers.

"Will!" Erin's voice rang behind him. They turned to greet her.

"Nice to see you again, Erin!" Pumpkin smiled, and Erin took note of the distance that was not between them and their intertwined hands, and she smiled.

"What are you doing?" Will asked.

"I just wanted to come and tell you we're headed out. Kids are tired and I think I've hit my ceiling." Erin chuckled. Again, Will knew this code. His eyebrows knit in concern, as did Pumpkin's, even if for a different reason.

Erin leaned in and hugged Pumpkin, saying her name that Will could just hold onto for the rest of time.

"It was nice meeting you today." Erin pulled away, giving Pumpkin a smile that Will could see her exhaustion through. "And thanks for taking care of my brother. He can be quite the handful."

Pumpkin laughed. "On the contrary, I think we had a pretty good time together." The way those eyes of her looked up into his made Will melt.

"Well, I am glad to hear that." Erin chuckled, sharing a look with Will, moving to squeeze his arm slightly before walking in the direction of the parking lot.

Pumpkin sighed softly, turning to face Will.

"I guess this is goodbye, then."

"What makes you say that?"

"You're staying with your sister, aren't you? And you didn't bring your car..."

"Well, I thought I'd spend some more time with you, if you'll have me. I'll just need a ride hom..." He grunted softly as she threw her weight against his, wrapping her arms around his neck. Will chuckled, hugging her back. "Just a ride home, if you're willing to give one."

"I'd love to." Her voice mumbled into his shoulder. She remained for a moment, before her voice vibrated into his shoulder once more. "Was that too forward? The hug, I mean?"

Will laughed. "Pumpkin... no. No, it wasn't too forward."

She released her arms from around his neck, her hands falling to rest on his chest. She chuckled with him.

"We really have been going about this backwards, haven't we?"

"I mean, I typically haven't kissed someone on the first date, much less before we'd actually gone out at all and only known each other for a few hours."

She put her head on his chest and laughed, trying to hide the blush rising on her cheeks, but Will smiled as he saw it go up to her ears.

"So, if I may..." He said quietly, and she looked back up at him. "Will you go out with me, Pumpkin?"

She smirked. "Why yes, Will. I'd love to go out with you. Where should we go?"

"Oh, I was thinking of treating you to funnel cake. Maybe a romantic walk around the fairgrounds, with..." He looked around. "...all these people."

This made her laugh again. Gosh, he loved her laugh.

"Sounds good to me." She kissed his cheek.

♡ ♡ ♡

Will's heart continued to beat steadily in his chest as they continued to walk around the fair towards where their date would start. She made him laugh like no one had before, and for the first time, he let himself be open. It was just so easy with Pumpkin.

Their first date engraved itself in Will's soul as the evening wore on. They did just as he suggested, but somehow, there had never been a more special evening than this, her hand in his, "accidentally" getting whipped cream from the funnel cake on her nose so he could kiss it off - this was significant. Important. And Will would hold onto it for a forever.

"Crosswords? Why in the world would you like crosswords?"

She chuckled, smacking his arm gently. "Because! They're a good challenge, and an excellent way to learn random trivia nobody else knows. I'll get you a book, and we'll see how funny you think it is!"

"We'll see who's laughing, Pumpkin." He felt her tug at his hand, leading him towards the carousel. "Where are we going?"

"The carousel." She giggled with excitement.

"Isn't it more for kids? I mean, look at who's on there." He gestured to the people slowly spinning around, many of them children.

"Okay but... oh look! There's an old married couple on there! See? Variety."

"You saying we're like an old married couple?"

"I don't know, we kind of act like one." She chuckled, making Will laugh. He squeezed her hand softly.

"To the carousel, lovely."

Funnily enough, they landed in the same spot the old couple had been. Pumpkin's hand found its way to Will's knee, squeezing softly.

"You ready for a little ride, old man?" She chuckled.

"Only if you are, dearest." He kissed her forehead, making them both double over laughing.

The ride began normally, slowly spinning around. However, around the two minute mark, there was a loud snap. The ride began to move faster. And faster.

Pumpkin clutched his arm. At first, he thought it was because she was scared. And maybe she was. But he began to realize he was shaking. He grabbed her leg firmly, trying to ground himself.

"Will, are you alright? Hey..." She pulled his head gently into her shoulder. Her fingers combed through his soft hair, her other hand tracing a line from his forehead to his nose, then cupping his cheek in her hand and stroking it with her thumb.

Will matched her breathing, hugging her tightly as his limbs stopped shaking. He felt her soft kiss on his forehead. Even with the frightened screams surrounding them, Will's heart was relaxing in her arms.

After a moment, his gaze met hers, expecting frustration, maybe anger, or fear, or shock at the monster he was convinced his anxiety had made him into.

But all he found was concern. Sympathy.

"Are you feeling a little bit better?" Her soft voice asked, the ride finally slowing down to a stop.

Will's insides churned, from spinning around so much but also from the rush of emotion his body just put him through.

"I think I'm going to puke." He whispered, and let her help him up and off the carousel. The operator apologized to everyone who got off, and the ride was shut down to figure out what had malfunctioned to make it go so fast.

Will lunged for the closest trash can, hurling the contents of his stomach into it. He stood up, looking around for Pumpkin.

It didn't take much looking, she was hunched over a trash can a little ways away. He walked over to her.

"Pumpkin?"

She put her pointer finger up, and after coughing a few more times, she stood up straight.

He said her name softly, and she chuckled at his concerned tone.

"I'm alright. I wasn't feeling great anyways, and it doesn't help that I'm a sympathetic puker." She chuckled. "Listen, about what happened on the carousel..."

"Pumpkin, you don't need to apologize. It's just some old battle scars."

"I still feel bad, Will. I ruined our first date. I'm sorr..." He kissed her softly, pulling away to take her chin in between his thumb and his index finger.

"Pumpkin, don't apologize."

"But I'm..." His lips met hers as she protested again.

"You taste like puke." She whispered, making both of them chuckle.

"Mhmm. Now, if you keep apologizing, I'm going to keep kissing you until you stop. Please. It's something I brought back with me from being deployed so many times, and it's not your fault. Understand?"

He watched Pumpkin study him for a moment, before she nodded, and smirked.

"That's all it takes? I just have to apologize for you to kiss me?"

Will playfully rolled his eyes, chuckling softly.

"Okay, okay. I'll stop apologizing." She laughed, and he kissed her once more. It was then his turn to laugh as he pulled away, and she feigned frustrated shock.

"What was that for?!" She asked, laughing as she was unable to keep herself from smiling.

"For being so damn cute." He kissed her again.

♡ ♡ ♡

They decided they'd head out, so Pumpkin could get up for work in the morning. Will bought her dinner, insisting on paying - even with her protests. When she brought up the carousel, his eyes narrowed playfully as they stood to wait for their food at the other end of the food truck.

"Don't make me kiss you again, Pumpkin."

The bashful look on her face made Will laugh. She paused a moment, crossing her arms as she studied him with a small smile.

"You know something, Will?"

"What is it, Pumpkin?"

"You have a nickname for me. And I don't have one for you. Feels unfair."

Will chuckled.

"Okay."

"Do you have a nickname you like? Should I ask Erin when I take you home what nicknames she thinks I should use?"

Will intertwined their fingers together, looking down at their hands, committing to memory how soft her skin was, and how her hand fit so perfectly in his.

"Well, when I was in basic training..."

Pumpkin's eyes lit up, squeezing his hand softly.

"...I got a nickname when we did what they call the Crucible - it's 54 hours of endurance tests at the end of Marines basic training. Because of my stealth, specifically during Night Infiltration, I was nicknamed Spooky."

Will chuckled as her eyes were filled with wonder.

"It's not that impressive, Pumpkin."

"But it is, Spooky. I, for one, would never survive any military basic training..." She trailed off, smiling softly as she looked back up at him. "Spooky... I like it."

♡ ♡ ♡

Too soon, they were in her car, sitting in front of Erin's house.

"Will, I don't think I've ever had a more fun, wild, unexpected day than today. Thank you."

"Of course, Pumpkin. But really, I should be the one thanking you for today."

She raised an eyebrow as she unbuckled and turned to face him, resting her elbows on the middle console and resting her chin on her hands. "Why is that?"

"You've put my world in color, Pumpkin." He leaned over the middle console and kissed her softly, before pulling back to unbuckle his seatbelt.

"Well, let me walk you to your door." She moved to open her door, and Will reached over her and closed it.

"What?"

"Let me open it for you." Will said softly, kissing her once more before getting out of the car and walking around to the drivers side, opening her door for her.

"Thank you, Spooky. Oh, wait! Hand me the picture from earlier."

Will fished into his pocket, pulling the Polaroid out. He stared at it for a moment and smiled, handing it to her. She took a pen, and wrote something on the back, handing it to him again.

"There you go." She smiled.

Will turned the picture over, seeing she had written a little note with her number. Instead of signing with her name, she signed "Pumpkin". He smiled, holding his hand out.

"My turn."

Pumpkin smiled, giving him the pen and the picture from her wallet. He wrote his number down and signed "Spooky". The smile on her face as she read it was one Will cherished.

He held a hand out, helping her out of her car, intertwining their fingers once more as they walked to the front door.

"You'll call, won't you, Spooky?" Pumpkin asked softly.

"Of course, Pumpkin." He ran his thick fingers through her hair, then holding his pinky out to her. "You get home safe, okay?"

"Promise." Pumpkin took his pinky in hers, interlocking them for just a moment. She bit her lip and smiled, her eyes fluttering shut as Will pulled her into his arms and kissed her again. Her hands came to rest on his chest before they pulled away, resting their foreheads together.

"I'll call you when I get home." She whispered. Their lips met one more time, before Will let her loose from his arms and stood next to the door.

"Goodnight, Pumpkin." He smiled, watching her to make sure she got into her car alright.

"Goodnight Spooky!" She called, waving before getting into her car. She waved once more from her window, pulling away from the curb.

Will waved back at her and watched her car until it disappeared around the corner. The moment he stepped inside, he heard an excited squeak.

His brows furrowed, turning and seeing Erin on the couch by the front window, a big grin on her face.

"Good day at the state fair, huh?"

Will blushed, sitting down on the piano bench to take his boots off. He was quiet, and Erin waited for him to respond. When he looked up, he was smiling wider than Erin had ever seen him smile. Will's smile at her wedding, and even his smile on the first visits to each of her kids after they were born paled in comparison to his smile now.

"From now on, things are going to be different, Erin."

♡ ♡ ♡

next chapter

series masterlist

[coolcattime]

Home and Free: Chapter Eleven - The Wolf Chase

Characters: Captain Capsize, Sonja Firefox, Skipper Redbeard, Jordan Captainsparklez, Tucker Jericho, Tom Syndicate, Martha the Mystic, Mot Screziato, Alyssa Countybat, Waglington, Farmer Steve, Prince Andor, Jeriah, Lady Ianite (mentioned)

Relationship: Captain Capsize/Sonja Firefox, Captain Capsize/Jordan Captainsparklez (onesided)

AO3 Link

Full Story Tag

Capsize’s thoughts were very much still panicked when she found her way to the entrance doors of the castle. All she could think about was escaping. How could her thoughts be on anything else when she was so aware that she could be stopped at any moment? If the Beast caught her now, stopped her from leaving, what would happen to her? Would she be thrown into the cell she had found Red in? Would she somehow have a worse fate? She hadn’t originally been scared of being locked in the cell, that was the circumstances she thought she had been agreeing to, and even now it was not the worst fate she could think of. However, she was so afraid of being at the mercy of the Beast, of what those claws could do to her if she was in reach of them when her mood turned. She hadn’t been hurt yet, but how close had it been? She couldn’t remain in this place and just wait to be harmed. She had to go back to the town, because even if she hated it, she could at least be sure she was safe there.

As she approached the grand entrance doors, she still felt shaky. She hadn’t collected her few belongings, not wanting to risk the extra time it would take to collect them. However, that also meant she didn’t have her cloak on her, as she opened the heavy doors and felt the cold air hit her. Winter was just the beginning, but the nights were already bitterly cold. Her shirt and trousers were warm enough inside, and she was technically wearing a coat, but it was thin and not designed for travelling, let alone for travelling through winter nights. But she needed to leave as soon as she could, so that wasn’t a problem she could fix. Yes, it would be an unpleasant journey, but what did that matter? She could deal with a few hours of unpleasantness. She needed to leave now. She’d head back to town and pretend this was all just some dream.

“Miss, what are you—?” Capsize whipped around in fright at the sound of a voice behind her, only calming slightly upon seeing the small form of Martha. Even if she was not afraid of the person who had found her, she could not calm completely. She hadn’t been calm before the voice had spooked her, and she was still trying to leave – the one thing that she had promised not to do. Martha understood immediately upon seeing her face that something had gone terribly wrong. Her features were highlighted with fear, her breathing quick and fast and her gaze did not stop shifting to the staircase as if she was terrified of someone following her. It did not take a genius to figure out who must have scared her. And it was far too much fear to have just been caused by a chance encounter. The clock realised with a terrible sickening drop that she must’ve entered the West Wing. Usually that realisation would’ve led to lectures about that being a ridiculous and unnecessary action that only served to get her in trouble, but she knew such words would be at this moment as cruel as they would be unneeded. She moved forward as gently as she could, trying to think of any way to provide her comfort, to get her into a calmer state of mind, but very few things came to mind. “Miss, just try to steady your breathing… you shouldn’t be making any rash decisions in your current state.”

“No, it’s not rash, I…” She swallowed, realising that she was talking far too fast as that’s the only way her breath would currently allow her to speak. She took the advice, trying to slow down her breathing, though she struggled to actually do so. She didn’t feel like she was acting rashly. She knew beyond all else that she could not remain here, that she needed to leave as soon as possible and not matter what the risks. Perhaps if she was calmer, this would be seen as rash actions, but she saw her panicked thoughts as perhaps the most logical she had had since she had arrived. Because she was sure at this moment that she could not remain here, and if she could not remain here, she had to leave now. If she stayed here when she had tried to escape, there was as good a chance that she would be locked up in a way that meant she’d never be able to try again. Maybe she’d deserve that, for going back on her word, but that didn’t stop that thought from once again making her breath quicken and her chest tighten. “I know what I promised, but I— I can’t stay here. I just can’t!”

“Did she… Did she hurt you?” Had any of the others been around, Martha would not have had the bravery to ask such a question. None of them liked facing the idea of the Mistress being violent, or rather they didn’t want to believe she had fallen so far as to physically and purposefully hurt a person. Martha didn’t particularly want to consider it either, but she had to check. How could she not check if she was this scared? Capsize shook her head, though there was a certain hesitance to the action. She wasn’t hurt. She wasn’t even sure that she had been close to being hurt, but the uncertainty wasn’t enough to ease her fears. Though it did add to the odd guilt she had in this situation. She was breaking her word. Thinking about it that way made her slightly sick, but what choice did she have? “Okay, that’s good. Do you want to come to the kitchens? Or somewhere in the castle she can’t reach?”

“No! I… Please, I swear I won’t tell anyone about this place, about any of you, I just. I can’t,” She almost begged despite the fact that the clock could not physically stop her even if she wanted to. Martha just looked at her sorrowfully. She knew she should argue with her, try to convince her to stay. This girl was the only chance they had of breaking the curse, she had to remain here, but how could she stand here and argue that? How could she argue that anyone should stay in this place? She thought about what Tom would say, something that she had never thought about before in her life and frankly seemed to make all the clearer just how desperate she felt, but nothing came to mind that was actually helpful. The only thing she could think to say was that the woman clearly was not ready for any sort of journey through the night. Even without the cold, she knew there were predators in the woods, the sort that had originally started the mess with her brother’s arrival. Did she have any chance of fighting or even just scaring them off without some sort of supplies? With the rush she was in, she didn’t even have a light. While she may not in good conscience be able to argue for her to remain here, she also could not allow her to leave without saying anything.

“Okay, I won’t make you stay, but you really aren’t in a fit state for the journey. At least come with me to collect your cloak and at the very least a light,” She spoke softly, hoping to mostly just get her out of danger and perhaps delay her decision a little. She couldn’t let her run off into danger. Even if she ends up leaving, she could at least feel okay with that decision if she knew the woman wasn’t running off into danger. And maybe if she collected her things, had some time to think, she’d choose to say of her own accord. She doubted such an outcome, but stranger things had happened. Capsize found herself frozen. The logical part of herself wanted to listen, to prepare rather than just running out into the night when she knew she wasn’t ready, but that part of her mind was barely audible at the current moment.

Perhaps if she had remained alone with Martha for a few minutes longer, she may have been quietly talked into properly preparing. Her thoughts were already swimming with doubt, perhaps she could’ve been convinced to not go out into the night at all. However, she saw movement in the upper landing. It wasn’t the Beast, had she looked for more than a mere moment she would’ve seen that fact clearly, but her mind was moving too fast for that. Her panic restarted as if it was fresh. She could not remain here. She just couldn't.

“I’m sorry!” Were her last words before she dashed out the door. Her flight was seen by an already panicked Tom and Mot who had been desperately hoping to find her before any sort of altercation could happen between her and the Beast, only to realise they were now far too late. All three cursed individuals that witnessed the scene had a different kind of devastation run through them. They were doomed. None reacted in quite the same way.

“Capsize!” Tom called out, hopping as quickly as he could out the door after her. Her horse was in the stables. She’d need to saddle it to ride back to town, and he had to hope she was planning to ride and not just run. He had to still have time to try and persuade her, to beg her to stay. Neither of the others even tried to stop him. Neither had any belief he’d be able to bring her back either, but there was no point in stopping him from trying.

Mot wanted to follow, he really did, but he could not feel anything but a numb pessimism. He wished that he could just be disappointed, angry that he had once again put his faith in the Beast and that he had been so thoroughly let down. However, he couldn’t feel anything but numb as it was not only his fate that was sealed by Capsize leaving, but Alyssa’s was too. His daughter would never be human again. Neither would the champion and princess he was trusted to watch over. The sorrow and guilt combined into a numbness. All their fates were being sealed in that moment, how was he meant to feel anything else?

Martha, meanwhile, found herself completely frozen with thoughts far away from their fates. Instead, all her thoughts latched onto a memory of a time that felt almost like a dream now. Years before the curse, a good handful of years before even she found herself taking residence in the castle, back when for a few months between travels she had been staying with her father. Her mind had been lingering on those particular few months in the past few days, a fact she had attributed to simply missing her father and being reminded of that fact more by the arrival of someone with such a close family relationship to this cursed place. It was only now though that it finally clicked.

She had met her before. The woman had been young, still a child, she hadn’t realised until now. She had been brought to her father, looking very much like she suspected herself in trouble, as the woman that had brought her there questioned him about the young girl’s possible connection to Lady Ianite. To be honest, she hadn’t paid much attention, it had seemed like a private affair after all, but it was clear to her now that child had grown up to be Capsize.

That realisation, however, left her with a deep sickly nausea rising within her, the sort she had not felt since losing her human form, because she remembered what her father had offhandedly mentioned about the girl. How had someone that had talked to Lady Ianite ended up here? A messenger of the very god that cursed them. Could it really be a consequence? But the woman certainly didn’t seem like she had been sent here intentionally. She seemed like she had no idea what was going on, but that just left Martha with further questions. However, there was an even worse fear that came into her mind now she had realised this fact about the woman. The woods were dangerous, that was the exact reason she had tried to talk her into staying, but if she truly was one of the goddess’ favoured, what would that mean if she didn’t make it back to the town? The goddess had already cursed them for one woman’s slight, what would she do if the same woman’s anger led her messenger into harm’s way? Ironically, Martha could only pray that they would never find out.

🌹 🌹 🌹

It was no longer than ten minutes before Tom re-entered the completely dejected as Capsize rode away from the castle. The most interesting person he’d had to talk to in years and she’d left in fear. He honestly wasn’t sure if he was more upset about the fact that he’d be stuck as an object for the rest of time, or that he was losing someone he had seen as a friend. It was almost certainly the former, not much could bring down a person’s mood like knowing they were stuck with a terrible fate, but he couldn’t help but think about her clear unhappiness whether she talked about the town and how she was riding right back into the life she clearly disliked. Really, how could such a fact sit easily in his mind?

It was only around another ten minutes later that all the living furniture were gathered together in the kitchen. It was incredibly rare for them to all actually be in one room, but at the current moment it has seemed a good idea to all gather in one place. Originally, they had been attempting to form some kind of plan, but that very quickly stopped as the mood succumbed to the inescapable truth of the curse. That wasn’t to say that the room was silent, but the talking that was actually taking place was, well, anger and annoyance that hadn’t been directed towards each other for years once again causing sparks.

“Why do you even have an opinion? You didn’t even meet her!” Steve was not quite yelling, though he was certainly more riled up than he had been in years. It was unsurprising to the others that Wag and Steve had so quickly started arguing, the two had never gotten along. However, they had not interacted for years at this point, after all it was quite easy for the wizard turned fabric to avoid someone that was literally stuck to a wall. Now they were actually in the same room, their dislike of each other had quickly rebloomed and it was easier by far for Steve to yell at him than to actually confront the actual painful situation they were all stuck in.

“Well, I’m just as affected by her leaving as you so I should get some kind of opinion. Besides, it’s not as if me meeting her would’ve changed the outcome,” The robe shrugged, fabric flopping around as he did so. His nonchalance only annoyed the stove more. The rest of those gathered were frankly exhausted, not just from the bickering, though it certainly did not raise their moods. Most of them had tried to interrupt the arguing at some point, though none had had any success in stopping it. Normally Martha would’ve yelled at the two to actually act like adults, but she simply didn’t have the energy at this moment. “I know it’s a little hard for you to know what’s going on in the castle, but I have been working on breaking the curse.”

“Oh of course you have! Working on some magical solution. Go on, tell us all about the way you’ve figured out that’ll put us all back to normal,” He didn’t hold back his disdain. The amount of disrespect he’d suffered prior to the curse from the princess for not having any magical abilities. He’d only put up with liking magic at all because of Martha, because of the friends he had in the castle. He’d had his annoyances towards magic, and particularly the wizard and the princess even prior to the curse, but then he had been magically fused to a wall. Unsurprising that left a man with more than a little resentment. “No, you can’t, because you haven’t found a solution, because magic is what got us into this mess in the first place!”

“No, the Beast is what got us all into this mess in the first place!” Alyssa spoke full of annoyance, gaining the attention of everyone in the room. She didn’t care if she was being improper, or whatever it was that everyone used to lecture her about. She was so entirely done with being respectful about the Beast, about this curse. She was always expected to be nice and polite. She had been expected to bite her tongue when her dad was being disrespected. The number of lectures she’d gotten from Martha about proper etiquette and manners she was meant to have, while the one she was meant to use such things around barely used them herself. She was so bored of it all. “It has nothing to do with magic. If she’d just let an old woman stay for a night, we’d all be fine!”

“I mean, she isn’t that bad…” Andor said quietly. His words were somewhat undermined by his current form, though he did truly mean them, as much as they were not much of a compliment. Alyssa rolled her eyes. How many times has she heard such a line? It was always some variant on not so bad as if that was the highest compliment in the world.

“She got us all cursed and has now chased off the one person who could’ve broken said curse. If she isn’t that bad, then who is?” She huffed. Her words were met with silence, none quite knowing what to say. Mot wanted to comfort her, but what could he say? He certainly couldn’t deny her words, and he certainly couldn’t blame her for them. How much of her life had been spent as an object rather than a person? He didn’t want to blame the Beast, obviously he didn’t, since she hadn’t even been an adult yet when she had triggered the curse. She had been old enough to know better, to act kinder, but still a child nonetheless. He could not place the blame fully on her, so he took on that guilt himself as much as he knew saying such a thing would only cause his daughter to lay more blame upon her.

Outside the kitchen, the Beast stood frozen, hearing the words she was not meant to hear. She deserved their dislike. She knew that she did. That’s why she needed to break the curse. She deserved her fate, but she needed to start taking responsibility for her actions and that meant attempting to fix the effects of the curse on them. She had no idea if her idea would work, though as she gripped the mirror tightly, she hoped beyond hope that it would because there was nothing else that she could do at this point. But… she needed to do it in front of them. She’d chicken out if she tried alone. However, she also couldn’t bring herself to enter the kitchen. She had already let them down once that night, what would happen if she did so again?

“Mistress, you should come inside,” Martha said, her tone hollow in her exhaustion, but loud enough to gain everyone’s attention. She knew that she had been lingering for a number of minutes, which she regretted not mentioning until now as she realised, she likely should’ve warned Alyssa, but she had not really been in the headspace to register such things. She was far too drained from the realisation she had had as the woman was leaving, one she knew she could not reveal to anyone for fear of what it meant, for how it would change things. Besides, it was not as if warnings had ever dissuaded the teenage flowerpot from speaking her mind before, still she could not stand the fear that appeared on Mot. Perhaps she should be scared too with what the Beast’s anger she had done today, but she simply could not muster it.

The Beast entered the room hunched inwards, the fact that this was intentional on her part to try and avoid looking any of them in the eyes, to hide the shame she felt at her actions that night, at first hidden by her need to duck to enter the room at all. It was impossible for her to look small, especially to the rest of the castle’s residences in their current forms, but still she tried to make herself tiny so she could not be stared at. She couldn’t look at any of them, sure they were all staring at her in anger and knowing she would feel all the worse if they weren’t angry. The idea that they might still see her as possible of being better, that any of them were disappointed rather than angry or resentful being the thing she wanted to confront the least.

“I’m sorry,” She said. Her voice was rough, all the hopelessness that had wormed its way into her spilling out in her tone. Though still almost a growl, she sounded so much more human in this moment, and that made listening to herself all the harder. There was an indecisive look between Tom and Mot. They wanted to confront her, but both knew she needed to speak on her own accord, else she may never try again. It did look like she may retreat at any moment, though at the same time she was almost painfully still. All she could think about was that everything was completely over for her, so she had to try and fix some part of this. “I’ve… I’ve ruined everything for you all. I don’t expect any of you to forgive me, but I…”

She couldn’t say the words she wanted to, it felt far too much like justifying. She pulled up the mirror to actually be able to see herself in it, forcing herself to look at her reflection. She hated seeing it, the horns, fur, and fangs. She hated that she could not fully remember the face that was meant to be staring back, the portraits that could’ve served as reminders were long since torn apart. However, on this night she forced herself to keep her eyes open and to look at the monster that stared back, it was not as if looking at herself made her feel any more ashamed than that she deserved for her actions tonight.

“I’m going to try and fix what I did to you all,” Her voice felt weak as she tried to believe what she was about to do would do anything. The furniture looked between themselves, though none said a word. There were words that some wanted to say, of course, some gentle some not, but none actually did. There was such a fragility. It was as if a single word would shatter the moment that continued to drag on. The Beast kept staring into the mirror, the last beads of hope within her hooked with frayed thread to this idea. “Show me Lady—”

A distant noise cut off every thought in her head as if it was right next to her. Her ears pricked up and focused as soon as she heard the howls, far closer to the castle than they normally would be. She had heard them like this a few nights ago, though covered by the rain. She had had no reason to care, no reason to think any of it. Expect for now it made her blood run cold as she remembered painfully the words of the man. She had not cared about any of his excuses when she had been dragging him to the cell, but she remembered them, his cries of having been attacked by wolves. Her entire focus shifted.

“Show me her—the woman! Show me Capsize!” She desperately spoke to the mirror, an impending terror of what her rash actions might have caused. The amount of time it took for the mirror to actually work and form the image was agony, but that agony did not leave her when the image actually formed. Rather than the terrible images in her imagination being proven false, she saw them in front of her. No, this couldn’t—she couldn’t let her be hurt because of her. She dropped the mirror, bounding out the room on all fours, focused now on nothing but reaching her in time.

🌹 🌹 🌹

Capsize barely managed to shift her body to land on her good side as she was thrown from Phillipe, the shock of hitting the cold, frost-hardened ground coming in a quick wave of pain that quickly dulled but didn’t disappear. She did not have time to focus on it. She had to get back onto her horse and away from the attacking pack of animals as quickly as possible. Her horse that was currently panicking as wolves were quickly surrounding him. The horse that only hadn’t fled already as his reins had become tangled around a tree’s branches keeping him stuck in place. The horse that currently had her cane strapped to her saddle and she had been thrown an uncomfortable distance from. She tried not to focus on how utterly screwed she was. She wasn’t going to die here, so she needed to do something.

She grabbed the first thing she could feasibly use as a weapon, the frost covering the fallen tree branch unpleasant against her bare skin in a way she just had to ignore. She had known it was stupid to leave without preparation. She had known it was too cold and too dark for her to just leave, but fear had overwritten those thoughts, and had been louder than the voices both within her own head and from others telling her to stay. It had been rash and reckless, and where had it gotten her? Dashing with a painful limp to hit away wolves from trying to attack her horse.

As she swung the branch, knocking them back at least a little, the wolves quickly changed their focus. Very quickly, rather than leaping at Phillipe, they were leaping at her. Adrenaline was the only thing keeping her arms swinging as the growls turned onto her. Her thoughts were run by simply knowing if she didn’t, she would not be alive to see the sunrise. And that kept her going until one of the wolves leapt up at face. She swung the branch wildly, knocking the creature back with a sharp crack and a whine. However, the crack was not from an injury she had caused. Only half the branch remained in her hands, splintered and useless and the other half had been thrown back with the wolf.

She stood frozen, completely frozen, attempting to come up with anything she could do. She tried to scramble for another branch, but ended up dragged to the ground as a wolf grabbed her coat. Her left leg was painfully twisted in the process, completely ruining any tiny chance she had of getting back up. She let out an unhelpful, pitiful sob as she tried desperately to think of something to do. Another wolf leapt at her. She threw up her arms as the only shield she had. She awaited the pain of a bite.

It never came. There was a wave of air as the wolf was thrown away from her. It was so sudden that she didn’t stop bracing for impact until something else touched her. Stood in a protective stance, growling at all the wolves, was the Beast. She almost thought she was dreaming. It didn’t feel real that the reason she had been scared enough to land in this situation in the first place was now standing protecting her. She had saved her life.

The wolves changed their target as she threw back another one, focused on the larger threat rather than the easy pickings they had originally been targeting. As they began to circle her, Fox roared ready for a fight. Capsize tried to process everything but found herself completely unable. So instead, she stood up. There was a wave of pain she hadn’t felt for a long time shot through her as she stood, the weight on her left leg far more painful than it had been a minute ago. She tried to push that fact to the back of her mind, as hard as such a thing was, and pushed herself to move back to Phillipe.

Despite only being a few feet, it was painful, the lingering fears of what she had done to her already weak leg haunting her with every step. The only other thing to focus on was the growls, grunts, and whines coming as the wolves pounced at and attacked Fox, which wasn’t exactly something more pleasant to focus on. Despite the leg pain certainly being worse, if she could choose to ignore one, it would certainly be the noises. She tried to focus on Phillip as she found herself now in front of the horse, stroking his neck with shaking heads to calm him before untangling his reins. As she did, she knew that she should leave now, while she had the opportunity and distraction to make good progress back to town, but instead she found herself transfixed on the wolves and Fox.

The wolves had encircled her, lunging at her with claws and teeth as she fought against them. She seemed so powerful, batting away the wild creatures as if their attacks were nothing. However, some still broke through her defence, managing to claw or bite her, though Capsize struggled to know if they were actually doing any damage as she never reacted to any of it. She tried not to pay attention, to instead focus on escaping while she still could. An opportunity she was sure was fleeting by the second as, after one took a particularly nasty hit from Fox, the wolves begun to flee.

She stared at Fox, wondering how much time she had before she was forcefully dragged back to the castle. She expected her to start looming towards her, braced herself for it in fact, but what she feared didn’t actually happen. Instead, she looked at her, blood covered her right arm. She wasn’t glaring as she had been earlier, there wasn’t anger or anything of the sort, in fact her gaze barely seemed to reach her. It was so unlike anything Capsize had seen from her within their few meetings. She kept staring, trying to figure out why she seemed so different. Her features seemed lighter, and her expression almost sorrowful. And then she collapsed.

Capsize grabbed her cane from the saddle, rushing over to the Beast. Crouching, ignoring the aching pain in her leg telling her such an action was a bad idea, she examined her arm. Her stomach turned as half-hidden by blood matted fur was an injury that she just couldn’t tell in this darkness how bad it was. Her breath shook as she tried to process the sight. She had been injured protecting her. If Fox hadn’t turned up, she surely would have died, but instead she was lying unconscious on the floor of the woods. She wasn’t going to get any better out here in the cold. Capsize had no idea what she should do. No, actually she had a very distinct idea of what she should do, but every fibre of her being was telling her it was a stupid idea.

She should just leave. She should go back to the town, find her brother, and go about her life as if she hadn’t been missing for days. Back to that boring life surrounded by people who made her question everything about herself being constantly bothered by a man who she absolutely couldn’t stand. Wouldn’t that be easier? Was that what she should do? At the very least, it was the logical thing to do. She was a prisoner, wasn’t she? She should escape now that she’d been given such a good opportunity to do so. But she wasn’t scared anymore. Or rather, she was scared in a very different way. She was scared of what was going to happen to someone who had saved her life. Regardless of circumstances, she could not bring herself to abandon her. She sighed. She could only imagine what Redbeard, Jeriah, or Ianite would say if they knew the decision she was making, but she knew she would only have regrets if she left someone, regardless of who they were, in such a situation when she could’ve helped.

It was going to be a long walk back. One she knew she would likely regret when she actually rested as, while having her cane to support her was certainly helping, the fall had not done her leg any favours. However, there clearly was not any other choice. Given that she was unconscious, Phillipe would need to carry Fox. There was no way he could carry both of them without a cart, so she would just have to be on foot. She was, ironically, quite relieved that she had not made it far in her escape attempt. While she might be stuck in the cold and dark, she would be back to the castle sooner rather than later. She did not like how that statement reassured her. There were a thousand questions poking into her mind as she guided her horse with a sleeping beast on its back back towards where they had just fled from. She didn’t understand why she did not fear going back there, but as she looked towards Fox, she knew she was doing the right thing. Though that didn’t shift the tightness in her chest nearly as much as she wished it would.

🌹 🌹 🌹

The world came back to the Beast in groggily bursts at first. Noises and sensations, but not actual wakefulness. The first time she actually felt awake, the first thing she acknowledged was that she was moving, the second was that her arm was filled with the worst pain she had ever felt. The second thing quickly became her only focus as it was sharp and biting as opposed to the rest of the world that was foggy and far away. She groaned, the noise escaping her as a low growl as she tried to move, but still was not awake enough to have the strength. Whatever had been moving her stopped. There was, for a moment, nothing in the world except for the pain in her arm and the cold wind hitting against her body, only partly shielded by her fur.

“We’re almost back, just a few more minutes,” She heard a reassuring voice, one that steadied her mind as the movement began again. The woman was safe, she didn’t need to worry about having caused someone death. Though, why would she be hearing her voice? Surely, she had continued her journey back home, to the normal life that she deserved, once she had fallen unconscious. So maybe she was just dreaming, dreaming that the woman would be trying to help her. Wouldn’t that be nice. That was the explanation her mind settled on as she drifted, and she was asleep once again.

The next time she woke up, everything was far clearer, and she realised her explanation did not make sense. As she opened her eyes and had the strength to look around, she saw she was in the castle’s grounds, the thick rose bushes surrounding her. Why was she back? She had been in the woods, by all means she was alone, so how had she gotten back? She looked up, her head momentarily dizzy before the actual things she saw brought her back into control as if she had been physically shocked. She was slumped over the woman’s horse, hanging over the animal as she had clearly been carried onto it while she was asleep. The woman was on the steps, rushing to open the doors. She had brought her back. It was an undeniable fact, but it did not fit right in her head. There was no reason for her to have done so, no reason the woman should’ve come back at all. Unless did she really…? No, no. There was no reason for this to have happened, so the Beast decided she was going to ignore it.

She stood, her legs feeling weaker than they should. Her steps were shaky, her arm was killing her, but she had no reason to stay out here any longer. She should just go back to the West Wing and lick her wounds, leave the woman to do whatever she wanted, leave and go back to her life. As she walked, the cold air quickly killed her wooziness. The horse startled a little as she walked past it, an expected reaction that unfortunately got the woman’s attention. Widened eyes met her as the woman turned and saw her moving, though they did not have the fear they had contained earlier. However, the look did nothing to quell the Beast’s thoughts, she could not bring herself to believe she was actually concerned.

Capsize found herself distracted from her original task of opening the door, concerned more that the Beast may fall again than the fact she was moving towards her. She moved down a couple of steps, attempting to figure out if she should say something or help her, but she found herself being brushed past without so much of a look. There was a brief moment of confusion, wondering if she should have expected anything else. Something had been different, hadn’t it? When she came to save her, the moment before she had collapsed, something had been different. And something, at least to her, was still different, as the fear that had previously always been at the back of her mind when being around Fox was no longer there, but it seemed as if Fox was not willing to act as if anything had changed. Capsize turned as the doors were opened behind her, following the Beast as quickly as she could, unsure if the concern she felt was still reasonable.

“If you’re awake, your arm needs to—”

“You’re back! You’re safe!” She was cut off by a very relieved Tom as she entered the room, Fox not giving a single look towards either of them as she proceeded to the stairs as if there was nothing to be said. Maybe there wasn’t, maybe she should just let her stalk off to wherever she wanted and deal with her injury alone, but she couldn’t do that. Whether she wanted her help or not, her wound needed to be treated and Capsize was the only person in this castle with hands. What would’ve been the point of bringing her back, if she just went off and let her wound fester and get infected? Still, Capsize decided not to ignore Tom.

“Yes, I’m fine, just cold and had a bit of a fall. But she—”

“Get her a change of clothes and make sure her fire is lit,” The Beast said, aiming her words and gaze at Tom. She could tell the woman’s clothes were not nearly thick enough to have protected her from the night air, and her fall into the frost must have left them at least slightly damp. By now, she must surely be freezing. If she gave Tom the task of making sure she warmed up, it’d distract the two and stop word from spreading about their return, at least for long enough for her to rest off the pain. That was her thoughts as she turned around, intending to go back to the West Wing and sleep.

“Are you being serious?” Capsize’s incredulous voice stopped her from continuing to leave. She turned around to see her staring with a frown and a glare laced with a very different kind of anger than she was used to seeing from anyone, let alone the woman. It was not quite enough to make her change her mind on her plans, but it was certainly enough to leave questions in her head. Why did she look like she cared? Capsize, with an absolute annoyance that the person she was talking to apparently had so little care about her own health, took a step forward. “Your arm has a massive wound on it. It needs treatment.”

“I’ll deal with it,” She tried to deflect, to ignore whatever concern she was imagining in the woman’s tone. Capsize scoffed. She couldn’t understand such an attitude. No, actually she very much could. It was her own attitude of just pretending everything was fine to her own detriment. It was the very same attitude that had slowed and damaged her own chances of recovery. She took a few more steps forward, to the point that she was now standing on the bottom step of the grand staircase. Yes, she was cold and frankly her leg was killing her, but she could deal with both of those things at the same time as making sure Fox’s arm was probably looked after. Her determined expression should not have been intimidating. Logically there was no reason the Beast should find any person intimidating as she towered over even the tallest of them, and certainly processed more strength than any of them. She was a good two feet taller than the woman looking up at her and would certainly win against her in any physical contest. However, it was the look on her face, one that made it so clear that she was the one in charge, making her completely unable to look away.

“Just let me help you,” She said, her voice clears in such a way that the Beast knew she couldn’t say no to her. She had a look of authority that simply seemed to exist. Like she knew just by instinct that she should not be questioned. It almost offended the Beast. This was her castle, her authority shouldn’t be questioned, she was the one who should be in charge, but she could not bring herself to be. What she actually felt, well, she couldn’t quite describe it. However, she could not ignore the woman’s request, not when she could still feel her eyes boring into her. She huffed.

“Fine but get changed first. I’m not having you collapse from the cold; it’d just make you a hindrance,” She growled before stalking off in a direction away from the West Wing. Tom blinked in disbelief. She was still being rude, but she’d actually accepted help rather than yelling that she knew best, and she should just listen to her. That meant something, didn’t it? Even if it didn’t, it certainly excited him despite the situation it had occurred in. He hopped up to Capsize.

“Hey, I’m glad you’re back,” He said, giving her a smile. She smiled back despite her thoughts being filled with confusion. Despite everything, she was glad to be back, glad to see Tom. She had made friends here, more than she had had back in the town. Maybe that was foolish of her, but… maybe she had had too much activity and excitement in the day to actually process such thoughts.

“I’m glad to see you,” She said, sure of that at least. The rest of the situation she was less sure about. She had no idea why she felt the need to help the Beast. Yes, she had saved her life, but that wasn’t enough to make her feel indebted to her, after all she wouldn’t have needed to be saved in the first place if not for her. She should by all means leave the stubborn beast to her own devices, if she didn’t want help, she did not need to provide it, but unfortunately, she couldn't bring herself to actually do that. Or, maybe not unfortunately, her thoughts on the subject were a little unfocused.

She shivered, maybe she was colder than she thought. Well, she remembered there being spare clothes in her room. She had no idea why, given that they certainly wouldn’t fit anyone who lived here, but she was appreciative of the oddity at this moment. If she was going to remain here, she might as well use them and figure out the mystery behind it later.

🌹 🌹 🌹

Despite the woman’s words, the Beast did not expect to actually see her again that night. She was sure she would realise that helping her was a lost cause and would instead go to rest. Yet, still had still slumped off into her actual bedroom rather than her study turned den in the West Wing she didn’t want to force the woman to enter again. She almost didn’t recognise the place. How many years had it been since she was here last? She had entered it since the curse, though not many times before she stopped using it as it just stood as another reminder to her of her lost humanity. The room was not in disrepair as her enchantments were still strong, cleaning and keeping the room dust free despite how she had not dared to enter the place in years. The fireplace lit at her presence, a warm glow illuminating the room. It all felt as familiar as it was alien, a piece of the past where she no longer belonged. Her possessions still littered the room, books open, pens and inks abandoned mid note taking, all still fresh as if she had abandoned the place hours ago rather than years. There was a part of herself that wanted to leave immediately, so she could ignore the memories of the past that the place was bringing to the front of her mind, but her exhaustion won out against that idea.

She looked towards the bed, made and welcoming, but she ended up slumping onto the rug in front of the fire. She lent on her right arm at first, an uncharacteristic yelp escaping her as she put just a bit too much pressure on it. She took a sharp breath and grunted as if she wasn’t in pain despite having no one to try and cover for. She curled up in front of the fire, staring at the flames as they danced around giving her warmth that she didn’t need due to her fur but still appreciated. Despite the amount of time the room had sat abandoned, familiar smells still lingered. The magical wood burning nearly overwhelmed the lingering scent of the odd fruit blossom that she originally used in the wards that ran the room's magic. It was still there though, still clinging on and reminding her how excited she was when magical research wasn’t just some desperate hope that she was clinging to to solve a mess she created. She had been so young, still using common ingredients in her experiments as she had not yet gained the confidence to use anything rare in case it ended up wasted; still messing around with Tom rather than seeing him as a distraction. When did she lose those feelings, that passion? If she could, she’d retreat back to those times, not change. Though, for once, her memories felt pleasant rather than an uncomfortable reminder of how terribly she had failed.

For once, she did not mind being lost in the memories as, even with the melancholy undertone they had now that she was stuck in this form, they were still a nice distraction from the unpleasantness the night had brought both physically and emotionally. Her arms still ached, though it was easy enough to ignore as long as she kept it still. Granted, this was not a great solution, but it wasn’t as if she actually knew what to do. She’d never gotten an injury like this one, one that felt serious. Obviously she knew that she shouldn’t have tried to reject the help offered by the woman, but she just couldn't ignore the pit in her stomach whether she was with her. She couldn’t quite describe it. She wanted to pretend that it was guilt for having led her into danger, but it had been there before tonight. She knew what it really was, like she knew the real reason she had allowed the woman to stay instead of her brother, but she didn’t want to acknowledge those thoughts. She just wanted to stay away from the feeling, even if it meant hoping that her injury would magically heal on its own. It was not as if the woman would actually come and help anyway.

However, despite her sureness that she would be alone for the night and that would be for the best, she was not disappointed to look over when she heard the door open and see Capsize standing there. In fact, she found herself staring at her, mostly out of disbelief that she actually came despite how clear she had been about her intentions, but also because she looked so nice. Not that she hadn’t looked nice before, but she had changed now, and well, the outfit suited her. It was still simple, as her previous clothes had been, a soft shirt and a long deep blue wool skirt, but both pieces were decorated with beautiful embroidery and not worn so often that the colours had begun to fade. She didn’t recognise either piece. Had they been Martha’s? The Beast reasoned they must have been, though they fit Capsize so well that she could not imagine them having been tailored for anyone else.

There was the briefest softening on the woman’s features before she turned serious again. Not stern nor angry, but merely just a look of knowing she had a task she must do. Still though, she almost hesitated to enter the room, just almost, but as quickly as that thought sat in her mind, she shook it away. It was not as if she was unwanted or uninvited, and even if she was, the wound needed treatment so she would do what she must. With a breath to steady herself, she entered into the room hoping that the supplies she had gathered would be enough. As she did her eyes were drawn to Fox, her form slumped on the floor. She did not look small, Capsize doubted she ever could, but she certainly was not the large looming creature she had been previously. Perhaps that’s why worry formed rather than fear. As, while she was at least awake, her arm was clearer in the firelight and not easy to look at with the amount of blood covering it. As she walked across the room, the tea cart she had gathered supplies on followed her as it had followed the furniture on her first night here.

The Beast was unsure if she should move or try to help the woman in some way currently unknown to her. Unsure, she merely shifted away as Capsize took a place in an armchair by the fire. They were closer together than they had been at any point during the past few days, and she hesitated to move any closer. Yet, after Capsize poured water from a metal kettle into a china basin, she looked up at Fox confused.

“You know, we’re going to need to be next to each other for me to be able to do this,” She said with the smallest amount of confusion hidden in her tone. Fox knew that her face flushed, though thankfully that fact was hidden by her fur. She was already embarrassed enough as she shifted her position to be sat in front of Capsize without blushing like an idiot. She sat in such a position that she could place her arm on her lap, but she was still facing the fire so she could ignore the world and that suited her just fine.

Being ignored suited Capsize well enough as well. It was better for her to actually focus on the task, even if there were pressing questions in her mind. After all, she still had no idea how bad the wound actually was and that wasn’t going to change until she got to work, even if she was a little unsure where to begin. She was experienced enough in first aid, it was kind of a requirement of a lifestyle where you’re always travelling, as well as one where you need to make sure you haven’t injured yourself terribly while recovering from an already serious wound. However, she had never actually done any sort of first aid on animals, as awkward as she felt comparing Fox to such a thing when she could talk and seemed built far more like a person than any animal she had ever seen, but really, how was she meant to deal with fur? All of it up to her elbow was matted with dried blood and it was near impossible to tell where the wound actually was, but she guessed cleaning up the arm was the first task regardless of any other questions she might have.

The task was quiet, just the occasional splash of water as she rinsed off the cloth she was using. She found herself concentrating, making sure to be gentle as she could as she had no idea where the wound was. The Beast found herself struggling to stay focused on the flames. She was being treated so gently. Why? Why was she going out of her way to help her? The questioning felt almost as bad as the wound, like some false hope had wormed its way inside her head. She almost did question, the words forming then rearranging in her head, but a sharp pain interrupting her thoughts pushing out everything else in her head.

She yelled, short and sharp though it still sounded more akin to a roar and yanked her arm away. Capsize didn’t quite flinch. She hadn’t expected to find the wound so soon, but she had hoped she was being gentle enough. Clearly, she was mistaken. There likely wasn’t any amount of gentle enough for a wound to not at least sting when being cleaned. Still, she couldn’t just stop because of that.

“You need to keep still,” She said, sternly but not without sympathy. She understood the pain of getting wounds treated, obviously she did, but there wasn’t really anything she could do about that. Thankfully, despite the fact that it had initially looked a mess, the actual wounds were not all that deep. There were three long scratches, but they seemed manageable. The Beast tried to bite back her frustration. She didn’t want to yell, didn’t want any sort of repeat of their previous interactions, but she also didn’t want to be around anyone. Her arm hurt, even with the careful actions touching the wound sent even more waves of pain through it. She wanted to be alone, completely alone, to just wallow and ignore the fact that anything is wrong. And, seeing that her commands had not been listened to by the woman in the slightest, the only thing she could think to do was yell and insult until she left of her own accord. “I know it hurts, but it’ll sting less and go quicker if you stay still.”

“It wouldn’t hurt at all if you hadn’t run off,” She said, deliberately trying to sound harsh. She watched the woman’s face flatten, her eyebrows lowered, and she frowned. But she didn’t leave, she just sighed.

“I wouldn’t have run if you hadn’t frightened me,” She said, barely raising her voice. She didn’t have the fear of Fox she previously did, and frankly was not in the mood for whatever argument she wanted to have. She was not going to take being yelled at and blamed for this situation. Though she was, frankly, confused by why the Beast was acting this way. She must surely care at least in some way, else she wouldn’t have saved her in the first place, but at the same time she seemed almost resentful towards her being in the castle at all despite that being entirely her fault. “And no matter who you think is responsible, the pain isn’t going to stop unless your wound gets treated. So, I would suggest that you sit still and let me help you.”

“I--!” She tried to come up with any argument, anyway, to be belligerent and get her to leave. However, looking at her she shrank back down. There was something about Capsize that made her feel as though she had to listen, like there was no question that she was the one in charge. It was almost overwhelming how confident she seemed, but she wasn’t cold, just clear. She could not find the words nor the will to argue against her, so she just silently put her arm back. She should hate the feeling, this was her castle, she was the one in charge! Yet… she did not mind. There was something about how the woman looked at her, not like she was a noble nor a monster that was so fascinating and gave her such a warm feeling that she would not chance changing it. Though she knew that it would change, at least if she did not change the way that she had been acting, with her yelling and allowing her frustrations to get the better of her. What exactly was she meant to do though? Tom would say that she should do some grand gesture to get romance going, but this definitely didn’t feel like the moment to do anything of the sort. She knew, as she looked at the focused woman, that she needed to say something. She had to try to fix the situation that she had created. “I’m sorry for yelling at you… and for scaring you…”

“Thank you,” Capsize looked up for a moment, almost unsure what to make of what sounded like a genuine apology especially as Fox was looking down at the floor. She had not spoken so softly before, even the first night her gentler words had been interlaced with growling and yelling. She seemed so vulnerable for the first time. Capsize placed a gentle hand atop her paw. “And thank you for saving my life.”

“You… you don’t need to thank me for that,” She said, so quietly that it was only audible because they were right not to each other. The Beast did not want to admit that she had been terrified upon realising the danger she had been in, that she was beyond glad that she received a major injury rather than her. Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing to admit, but she did not feel in any way safe in saying it. Capsize tried to look at her, but she was still looking into the fire and avoiding her eyes. She chewed a little on the inside of her cheek as she looked back down at the injury and continued to treat the injury. Only then did the Beast speak again. “Why did you come back? You could’ve left and gone back to your life.”

“Well, whether you want to be thanked or not, I wasn’t going to abandon someone who saved my life,” She said, quite sure of her words, but hesitant to say the rest of the truth. She did not want there to be any mistake about the unfairness of the circumstances for her being here. She still was not happy about her freedom being taken, even if she had willingly come back, but she also knew the truth in her own thoughts. The life she had been living, the one she had given up in order to remain here, was not the life that she missed and resented losing. But did that really need to be said out loud? Likely not, but perhaps it would make clear that her help was not some form of paid debt. “And there was not much for me to go back to. Aside from my brother, I only had one friend. I can’t exactly say I had much love for that town.”

“Oh, I… I’m…”

“Don’t be sorry, Fox. It’s an unfortunate fact, but it’s not like you had anything to do with it,” She said, trying to laugh and sound as neutral as possible about the situation so as to not give away how much the town actually bothered her, how there was some part of her glad to never see the place again. However, for the first time since entering the room, her face was not quite steady. There was a clear frown, and while she had tried to stop them, a tear was rolling down her cheek. And the Beast found herself staring, wishing more than anything that she could cheer her up. She couldn’t understand how she could only have a single friend when she was so kind, so needlessly kind. She was a monster, a beast who had taken her prisoner and she was helping her and… she had called her Fox. She could call her monster and it would be completely reasonable, but she didn’t. What had been wrong with that town to not want to treat her kindly? And Fox thought of her own actions, and realised she needed to do something, however small, to make up for them. And something sprung to mind, something she had been keeping hidden for such a long time.

“Anyone who rejects your friendship is clearly a fool. You’ve only been here a few days and I don’t think I’ve ever seen everyone so happy,” She said. Capsize laughed a little, a sound that made the room feel lighter. It was enough to almost make the Beast feel confident in saying her next words. Almost. “And I should know myself… I’ve been terrible, and I know that it’s not possible to start over, but… let me introduce myself properly. My name is Sonja.”

It felt wrong to say out loud after so long of rejecting her own name like she had rejected every remainder of her humanity. Capsize looked not quite in shock, but definitely in confusion. She had suspected that Fox had not been entirely truthful about her lack of name, but she had not expected it to be so ordinary. Their eyes met briefly, the Beast quickly looking away as she still felt shameful. She wished she could hide or take her words back. But that wasn’t a choice she actually had. Instead, she just had to continue on.

“I’ve not used it in years, but if you—”

“Why?” Capsize questioned before actually thinking about how inappropriate such a question might be. The Beast knew she couldn’t tell the whole story, that her name was a remnant of a human that no longer existed, but she needed to say something. She couldn’t keep avoiding topics because she wanted to ignore them.

“It is not a name for a beast,” Her voice betrayed her grief. She hated what she had become, but it was so much easier to try and forget and cast away her previous self than have the crushing feeling of longing for it back and knowing she never could. Capsize heard her tone and, though she had no idea its actual cause, she understood the grief all the same.

“Perhaps not…” She started, wishing she had fully formed her thoughts before starting to speak as she saw the way Fox shrank away. It felt wrong for her not to yell, and indeed it felt far worse. But she needed to actually think, because she did not want to say empty words. “But I doubt many people would say my name is one for a woman. Names aren’t rewards; you don’t need to be deserving to have one. And, for whatever it’s worth, I think Sonja is a nice name.”

The Beast looked back at her, not quite believing what she had heard. She was met with Capsize genuinely smiling at her. A small smile, but it was warmer and lighter than the fire burning beside them. And, for the first time in years, Sonja smiled too.

[talonslockau]

Fire and Ice - Chapter 54

< Chapter 53 || Index || Chapter 55 >

The rain was starting to fall as Ravenspirit led them into an overgrown field that clearly hadn’t been touched by Twolegs in moons, if not seasons. In one messy corner, surrounded by brambles and nettles, a half-destroyed wooden Twoleg nest was precariously leaning. Several pieces had fallen out, or broken in half, and the roof had partially collapsed. It looked just as the former Thunderclanner had promised.

“Are you sure it’s safe in the storm?” Tallstar asked doubtfully as he stared up at it.

“It’s weathered several harsh storms since I’ve been here without changing.” The black loner replied as he waved them over to the entrance, wide and gaping now that the large door had fallen to the ground. “Besides, the mice love it. Every time I’m in here, I kill one and two more appear!”

Fireheart purred warmly at the thought. It must be nice to have such a feast at your clawtips, though he knew that it was only because of the Twolegs that any of this was here at all. “Sounds like we have some work to do, then!” He replied as he strode confidently into the nest, hoping that it would show the Windclanners they had nothing to fear.

The inside fared little better than the outside. The ground was covered in loose piles of dried grass, though some new growth was beginning to poke its way up through the debris. Moss and mushrooms grew on the walls inside, and a few holes in the roof allowed a steady trickle of water inside. Still, he could tell Ravenspirit was right; all around him he could hear the scurrying of little feet, and from the look on the Windclanner’s faces, they were hearing the same.

Tallstar was doing his best not to salivate as he looked around. “This will be alright for the time being.” He admitted slowly. “The queens and elders will stay here for now. Deadfoot-?”

“Right away, Tallstar.” The deputy mewed, turning and beginning to assign sections of the barn to patrols. The cats bounded away eagerly, any trepidation at being in a Twoleg nest gone at the thought of finally sating their hunger.

Ravenspirit purred at the sight. “Maybe now we’ll be able to get this part of the farm under control!” He exclaimed before turning to the remaining cats. “I’m going to go fetch Barley. He’ll be pleased to hear the news that Windclan is returning home!” With that, the loner departed, leaving the Thunderclanners alone with Tallstar.

“A good fellow.” The Windclan leader commented. “I can see now why you vouched for him.”

“He’s a good cat. He understands our way of life, and respects it - and Starclan.” Fireheart mewed quickly. “I’m sure if he had the chance, he would have fought like a warrior alongside us to drive Brokentail out.”

“As would we.” Tallstar replied as he watched his warriors hunting in the fallen grass. “It will be nice to have Raven on our borders. A friendly face in these troubled times, as it were.”

The ginger tom nodded quietly. “Indeed.”

They sat in silence for a moment before Tallstar shook his pelt out. “So! Tell me, what else has transpired while Windclan has been gone? Do Bluestar and Crookedstar still lead?”

All three of them nodded. “Our dad, Quickflash, is Bluestar’s deputy now, and Leopardflame is now Crookedstar’s deputy.” Graystripe added as he sat down with a thump. “And… Yellowfang is our healer now, with her apprentice Dewpaw, our sister.” He looked down at his feet as he spoke of them. “Spottedleaf… Brokentail’s rogues killed her.”

“A healer?” Tallstar flattened his ears. “Despicable.” After a moment, he shook his head, trying to brighten up. “I do remember Quickflash being named deputy. I had wondered what his youth might mean for Thunderclan. I think now that if he is half the warrior his children are, it will mean a bright era for your Clan.”

All three of the Thunderclanners purred at that. “I’m sure he will be pleased to hear that, coming from you.” Peppermask mewed warmly as she nudged her brother. “We like to think he’s been doing well.”

“And what about you?” The Windclan leader asked, turning to Fireheart. “I have to say, your coat is… quite unusual, among the Clans. Who are your parents?”

The young warrior winced a bit at that. He could only imagine what Tallstar might think of him if he realized the tom had once been a kittypet. “I come from outside the Clans.” He admitted at last. “But I’ve been part of Thunderclan since I was six moons old.”

“And they are lucky to have you.” He was surprised at the warmth which Tallstar regarded him with. “Some of the finest cats I know weren’t Clanborn. There are those amongst the Clans that think being born in the forest is what makes a warrior, but I know better. Why, if it wasn’t for-”

He was interrupted by a loud cry behind them, and they turned to see Ravenspirit and Barley approaching, the rain running off their pelts as they came inside. “Tallstar.” Barley dipped his head respectfully to the other tom. “It’s good to see you again. I’m glad to hear you’re returning to the moors; it’s where Windclan belongs.”

“I agree.” The leader replied, dipping his head in greeting as well. “I must thank you and Raven here for your hospitality. Thanks to you, my Clan will be warm and fed tonight.”

The black and white loner twitched his ear at his companion’s name. “Of course, Tallstar. Anytime we can help the Clans, we will.” His lip curled into a smirk. “Though I have to say, you’re really doing us the favor. The mice here run rampant all over the farm, but we never have enough time or paws to catch them all!”

“So Raven said.” The Windclanner replied, his whiskers twitching in mild amusement. They looked on at the freshkill pile the warriors were assembling before them as they caught mouse after mouse underneath the grass. “Still, we’ll be out of your fur when the morning comes. We have our own camp to return to.”

“Of course.” Barley dipped his head smoothly in acknowledgement. “Would you mind if I lend your warriors a paw? I haven’t caught my own dinner yet tonight.”

“Of course not! It’s your farm, after all.” Tallstar responded as he got up and stretched out. “In fact… I believe it would do me some good to hunt as well. My paws have spent enough time idle.”

Fireheart copied him before springing forward. “I think I’ll join you.” He replied smoothly, flicking his tail for the two Thunderclan siblings and Raven to join him. They did so readily, and soon all six of them were hunting mice with the rest of Windclan.

By the time they were done, there was enough for all of Windclan to have two mice, even the kits. The Twoleg nest had been emptied of the little rodents, thanks to the keen hunting of the warriors, apprentices and loners, and so the Clan had filtered throughout the barn to find warm places to eat and sleep. The wind blew showers of rain through the entrance, and the holes in the walls allowed chilly drafts to seep through, but the place was big enough that the Windclanners were able to find places to sleep all the same.

Greystripe sat back on his haunches with a groan, having eaten two whole mice himself and stolen some of his sister’s. “I’m stuffed!” He moaned to the others.

“Good! It means you did your job.” Barley purred as he stood up. “Well, I’d best be off. Plenty more mice to catch.”

Tallstar nodded respectfully to the tom. “May Starclan light your path.”

“And yours.” The loner responded over his shoulder as he padded out into the rain, seemingly unbothered by it. There was a moment’s silence as they listened to the steady patter of the rain on the roof, watching it fall through the entrance.

“We can take the first watch, Tallstar.” Fireheart mewed as he stood and stretched, his own belly contentedly full. “Your warriors deserve the time to rest.”

The black and white tom regarded him with unblinking yellow eyes for a long moment. Finally, he nodded. “Thank you, Fireheart. I will tell Deadfoot that.” He sat up and began cleaning his white paws, which looked painfully swollen from all the travel. Fireheart supposed his own didn’t look much better.

He flicked his tail for his friends to follow him towards the entrance, where few dared to go due to the rain. Here, the storm would obscure their words from the rest of Windclan, and they would be able to see the whole Clan clearly. They could talk without being disturbed. 

Peppermask and Ravenspirit sat next to him as Graystripe tottered over, clearly unused to walking with such a full belly. “We’ll be undisturbed here.” The ginger tom mewed to them as he bushed his fur up against the cold. “We should be able to talk freely.”

“At last.” Ravenspirit murmured, sighing in relief. “There’s so much I couldn’t ask with Tallstar and Windclan listening in.”

“Agreed.” Fireheart replied, dipping his head. “It was so hard not saying your real name, too!”

“So what happened after I left?” Ravenspirit asked with a tilt of his head. “Obviously you got the kits back, and drove out Brokentail… and Spottedleaf is dead, of course.” He closed his eyes slowly in grief. “But what of Goldenflower? And all of you, for that matter? You said Bluestar gave you your names?”

“She lived!” Peppermask purred in delight. “Dewpaw worked hard to save her. She’s still recovering, and her kits had to wean a bit early, but they’re all together and safe and sound.”

“A lot happened after you left.” Fireheart admitted as he leaned back on his haunches. “We went and found the Shadowclan elders, Yellowfang included. Then we waited until Bluestar sent out the battle patrol for the kits - Peppermask was there, as well.”

“That’s right. Lionheart, Whitestorm, Sandstorm, Tinyfrost and I.” Peppermask added in quickly. “We invaded Shadowclan camp, and Fireheart himself was the one to drive off Brokentail!”

Ravenspirit gasped in shock. “That’s incredible, Fireheart! Brokentail was one of the strongest cats in the Clans. Stronger than my father, even.” He sighed as he mentioned the dark tabby, glancing out into the rain.

“I didn’t really do much.” The ginger tom admitted. “It was a group effort. We’ll have to tell you the whole story someday.”

“Then we returned to Thunderclan with the kits and Yellowfang.” Graystripe added, excitement overwhelming his bellyache. “And Bluestar gave us our warrior names!”

“She gave all of us our warrior names.” Fireheart added, looking to the black loner beside them earnestly. “Fireheart, Graystripe, and Ravenspirit.”

There was a heavy silence in the air. “So they really do think I’m dead, then.” Ravenspirit mewed as he gazed out at the storm.

Fireheart perked his ears in confusion. “How’d you know that? We hadn’t gotten to that part yet.”

“It’s his name.” Peppermask mewed quickly, glancing at the former Thunderclanner as she did so. “The name -spirit is reserved for those who died too soon. Apprentices, usually, but I’ve heard of leaders sometimes giving it to kits as well. It’s in honor of the first apprentice to die, Brightspirit, and how she was taken from us too soon.” The gray tabby bowed her head mournfully at the mention of the lost Starclanner.

“The Clan elders are responsible for keeping the tales of each who died before their time, so that they will never be forgotten.” Ravenspirit added solemnly as he watched the rain fall. “Do I have one, then?” He asked as he finally looked back at them.

“You do.” Graystripe answered readily. Fireheart blinked in surprise; he hadn’t talked to the elders that much since the battle, and so he hadn’t known. “Your tale is one of bravery and sacrifice, saving us from Brokentail’s cruel claws.”

Ravenspirit nodded halfheartedly. “That… That’s good, I guess.” He mewed at last.

“You seem troubled.” Peppermask said softly as she gazed at the loner with wide, earnest eyes. “What’s wrong?”

He sighed and looked back at the storm outside. “I don’t deserve it.” He finally admitted. “I ran away when the Clan needed me most. I was a coward.”

“Nonsense!” Fireheart interjected, nudging his friend with his shoulder. “Bluestar herself said you would have gotten your name if Brokentail hadn’t attacked. Even if you hadn’t run away, you would still be a warrior.”

“But I did. Would she still think the same of me if she knew I was alive?” The black tom pointed out as he turned to look at his friend. “What if she knew I was a loner now? That I turned away from the Clans and the code?”

“That doesn’t matter.” Peppermask refuted him gently, though her tail tip was lashing. “You would have died if you stayed, Ravenspirit. At least with you safe here, we have a chance to figure out a plan to fight back against Tigerclaw.”

“If I may.” All four of them jumped at the sound of another voice. They had been so deep in conversation, they hadn’t noticed Tallstar’s approach. 

“How much did you hear?” Fireheart asked him warily. If Tallstar knew- if he told the other Clans-

“Enough.” He replied simply, sitting down and wrapping his tail over his white paws. “Your secret is safe with me. I know better than to interfere with another Clan.” He glanced quickly at the other Thunderclanners, though if it was a jab at them he didn’t voice it any further. “But it would be wrong of me to sit idly by and listen to you wrestle with the same guilt I once did.”

The former group of apprentices glanced at each other uneasily. “What do you mean?” The ginger Thunderclanner finally asked cautiously.

Tallstar nodded towards his Clan, most of whom were beginning to fall into a peaceful sleep. “It was not easy for me to choose to leave the moors behind. Indeed, the warrior code says that we must fight to defend our Clan - with our life, if need be.” His eyes were troubled as he gazed over the slumbering warriors. “There are those who would call me a coward for choosing to flee rather than stay and fight.”

Tense silence filled the air. “But Brokentail and his rogues were strong. Even if I chose to stay and fight - even if we won - we would have lost many more lives that day. We certainly wouldn’t have been able to repel a second attack.” He closed his eyes mournfully, grieving the loss of his warriors. “If it makes me a coward, then so be it. But a wise warrior knows that they cannot win every battle. Sometimes, it is better to know when to cut your losses, so that you may strike faster and harder the second time.”

Fireheart glanced at Ravenspirit, whose brows were furrowed in thought. “I feel bad, though. For tricking Bluestar into believing I’m dead.”

The Windclan tom’s whiskers twitched in amusement at that. “Bluestar is one of the wisest cats I have had the privilege of meeting. She has seen much in her seasons as Thunderclan’s leader.” He glanced around at the other four cats as they squinted at him in confusion. “She has also seen many young, daring cats like yourselves in that time. She was once one herself. I suspect you may not have fooled her as well as you all think.”

Graystripe bristled at that. “You mean she knows that it was an act?”

He shrugged his black and white shoulders. “Perhaps. More likely, she realizes there is more to the story than what you told her. But she also trusts in her warriors to do what is right; a trust, I have noticed, that is rarely ill-founded.” He dipped his head to Ravenspirit. “Even so, she still chose to honor you and your life. She believes you earned your name, despite what else she may not know. Take heart in that.”

There was a long pause as the four of them considered that. “I think I understand. Thank you, Tallstar.”

He nodded, then stood and stretched. “In any case, I merely came over to tell you all that Deadfoot has arranged for your replacements at moonhigh. Pigeonflight and Wrenfeather will take the second watch.” He indicated each to them; a tabby with thick black stripes and a small brown molly that were curled up together, sleeping soundly.

“Wait!” Fireheart mewed quickly as the Windclan leader turned to leave. “Before you go, I- I had a question for you.” He looked to the others, who were staring at him curiously. “When you first saw me in the tunnel, you called me Jake. Why?”

The tom’s shoulders slumped as he slowly sat back down. “It is a long tale. One which happened many seasons ago, before I became leader.” He gazed wistfully out of the Twoleg nest, into the slowly weakening storm. “I was lost, blinded by my own pride and anger. Jake was a mere kittypet, but he was perhaps the greatest cat I have ever met. He taught me a great deal about the world outside of the Clans, and helped me find my way. I would not be leader of Windclan today without his help.”

Fireheart perked his ears in surprise. With how the other Clans had thus far treated kittypets, he hadn’t expected a leader to be so close to one. “What happened to him?” 

Tallstar shrugged. “We parted ways; I became Windclan deputy, and he went back to his Twolegs. I have long wondered what happened to him, but he has never visited since.” He shook his head with a sigh. “His pelt was like a burning blaze across the moors, shining just as brightly in the sunlight. And his eyes - as green as the forest in late newleaf, like yours. You look… remarkably like him, but without the choker.”

“Maybe you two are related?” Graystripe suggested with a nudge to the tom beside him.

The ginger warrior shrugged. “Truthfully, I was also once a kittypet. But the thing about kittypets is that they don’t know their family beyond their littermates and mother.”

The Windclan leader nodded in understanding. He didn’t seem at all surprised by Fireheart’s admission. “Jake told me as such. It doesn’t matter, anyways. I can see you are your own cat, whether you are related to him or not.” Still, he could see the longing in the tom’s golden eyes, of a different time and different cat. “Your spirit burns brightly. Thunderclan is lucky to have a cat like you serving them.”

Fireheart dipped his head at the praise. “Thank you, Tallstar. I- I appreciate that.”

The Windclan leader stood and looked at the rest of them. “If that is all, I will take my leave now. I must be ready to lead the Clan home in the morning.” He glanced over to Ravenspirit as they all shook their heads. “And I will let the Clan know not to mention the loners that helped them to anyone else at the Gathering. To keep our pride, and all.”

Ravenspirit blinked and then nodded appreciatively. “Thank you, Tallstar. It means more than you know.”

The tom flicked his tail farewell and trotted over to where Crowslip, the elder, was curled up in the dried grass, watching a leak from the roof splashing down. He lifted his head curiously as his leader arrived, and the two began chatting as Fireheart turned to the others.

“That takes care of one worry, at least.” Peppermask murmured to the rest. “We still haven’t figured out how to take care of Tigerclaw, but we have a new ally now. Yellowfang.”

The black loner perked his ears curiously. “Yes, you mentioned she had joined Thunderclan as the new healer. Which means Wetnose is Shadowclan’s only healer now?”

Fireheart chuffed at the mention of the Shadowclan tom. “Yes, he is. Though not a very good one, from what little I’ve heard.”

Ravenspirit twitched his whiskers mirthfully at that. “So I’ve been told. He can’t even cure his own cold!”

The group purred appreciatively at that. It was nice, to be able to lighten up after the long and weary journey that they had undertaken. Still, he was exhausted on his paws after all the traveling that they had done, and Ravenspirit seemed to notice as he swayed slightly on his feet. “Why don’t you guys get some sleep? I can take the watch on my own.” 

Fireheart hesitated, glancing at the others. “Are you sure? I mean, we promised Tallstar we’d take watch.” 

“It’s fine. I think he trusts me now, and you guys know I can keep watch fine.” Fireheart nodded at that; Ravenspirit had always had keen eyesight and hearing as an apprentice. “Get some rest. You can sleep here, if it’ll make you feel better.”

“It would.” The ruddy tom admitted. It felt strange to be intermingling with Windclan, anyhow. “Thank you, Ravenspirit.” He murmured as he found a soft spot of dried grass to curl up in, Graystripe and Peppermask laying down next to him. He closed his eyes as the black tom nodded and turned to stand watch, the light splashing of the rain and the warmth of the others quickly lulling him into a dreamless sleep.

[fangirlshrewt97]

Tale As Old As Time... (Part 2)

Well, the reaction to the first part was ... overwhelming. Which is good because my brain has taken this idea and hurtled at maximum speed. I am hanging on for dear life. I hope I survive the experience. And I hope none of you decide to jump ship, though I understand if you do. 😅

Here is Chapter 2 of God only knows how many, it is more than 4. I can assure you of that. You know that one gif of the cartoon laying the tracks in front of it as the train is going full speed? That’s what this story is going to be. Please excuse any bumps that may be present.

This chapter is more... tone setting? It might be boring compared to the first part, but I promise you chapter 3 will make up for it. (I hope). Here we go!

Full work Ao3 Link.

(Previous Chapter) (Next Chapter)

///

Where were we? Oh Right. The story is just starting isn’t it. I think it is time I take a backseat and let the story play out.

Jai let Bhairava say goodbye to the princess. Mithravinda begged Bhairava to do something, to plan a way out of this, he cannot possibly be thinking of just letting that monster to whatever he wanted to him.

Bhairava did not tell her he didn’t think he could put up a fight anyways. He could feel those eyes. Could feel their heat on the back of his neck. He was sure his wolf was watching him.

Bhairava gave Mithravinda a kiss on the forehead, even feeling that was too indecorous. His teeth chattered as a cold breeze cut through him. Though this kingdom lay so close to Udaigarh, the atmosphere was much more cold. He shivered as the wind tore through his simple cotton shirt and pyjamas.

He bowed to Sher Khan’s nephew as the man came into view on the other side of the gate. He has only heard of the man. Knew he is a good man. Not like Ranadev. He would care for Mithravinda. And he prayed the princess would return his affections. She deserved to be happy. Even if his own future was so uncertain right now.

He wiped Mithravinda’s tears away and placed her hand in her rightful groom’s. It ached, but the pain was not nearly as sharp as before. And despite them being at least a couple kilometers away from the palace, Bhairava would swear he could feel the burning gaze still.

He was quiet as he returned to the palace, not resisting the guards. He could not afford to do something that would make King Raavana change his mind. He kept his eyes down and pretended not to hear the guard’s taunts. To not hear the lewd descriptions they gave of what their king would do to him. To not hear them discussing if he would be whored out to them instead. He clenched his teeth, and lets his fingernails dig into his palm and stayed quiet.

As they neared the palace the guards stop talking, straightening up as they escort him to the entrance. Bhairava trembled when the main palace gates opened, certain in his gut he was being observed.

A man stood at the top of the stairs after the entrance. Old, maybe late fifties. The man who had been next to the King in the throne room.

“Sire.” the guards saluted him.

He acknowledged them and sent them away. He would take the prisoner now. A weight settled in Bhairava’s stomach. This was it.

Bhairava kept his eyes fixed on the engravings in the door as he felt the man looking him over.

“Come on then.” he sighed.

Bhairava focused on memorizing the route as he was led through a series of increasingly confusing hallways, till he felt like they must have gone in circles, except they ended up in front of a massive wooden door.

“You are to stay here until told otherwise. Clothes are already there and a bath has been drawn up. Clean and change. Food will come soon.”

The man left as soon as he finished his instructions, and Bhairava’s mind was left spinning.

Bhairava stayed rooted to the spot as the other man disappeared around the corner. He was alone.

He was alone, there are no guards. He could run. But run where, he could not make out which way he came through. He walked to the stone railing lining one side of the corridor. It was a beautiful corridor, but dangerous too. He leaned over. It was sheer drop, at least fifty feet.

Heart hammering, Bhairava backed away from the edge, entering the open doorway instead.

It was the largest bedroom Bhairava had ever seen. In the center stood a massive bed, with sheets of blood red, and matching pillows. The frame was engraved and shone with polish from the light of the diyas illuminating the room. A canopy hung over the bed, curtains pulled back and tied to the four posts.

He looked around. There were two sets of doors, one to his left, and one straight ahead. To his right, he spotted what seemed to be a small hallway, and next to it a massive mirror, reaching almost from the ground to the roof. The frame was gold, and the two decorative peacocks filigreed at the top stare at him with the same ruby red eyes. He shivered.

He headed to the door on the left, frowning when the metal knob felt cold. He opened the door, only to be knocked back by the strong gust of wind that blows through the space, cutting to his core. It was a balcony, extending the length of the room, with a narrower width. He walked to the edge. Same sheer drop. He closed the door behind him, teeth chattering again.  

The door that had been straight ahead proved to be the washroom, with a magnificent pool built into the floor. Hesitantly, he ran his hand through the water, groaning when the warm water thawed his frozen fingers. He swallowed, looking around. The King was not here. And he seemed honorable enough not to show up while Bhairava took a bath. Making up his mind, Bhairava locked the door to the bathroom, and stripped his clothes.

He stepped into the pool, moaning as the water wrapped him in an embrace. The travel here had been rough as he had pushed the horses and his men to their fastest speed. And the days trying to find the princess had been a frantic and urgent mess. He had not been able to bathe properly in nearly ten days. And he had never had so luxurious a bath either.

He dunked his head beneath the water to wet his locks, surfacing to spot a couple bottles of bath oils laying nearby. There was also some mixed sandalwood, and coconut oil for his hair. Perfunctorily, he washed himself, hesitant about the sandalwood before using it. He rubbed the coconut oil into his hair before dunking again and clearing everything away. Once he felt more like himself, he got out of the bath, drying himself on the towel set out for him. Next to it were clothes.

It is a simple tunic, but it is the softest cotton Bhairava has ever touched.  The pants are tighter. Just as soft. A twinkle of light brought his attention to a bowl with two simple earrings. They are circular with a ruby at the center.

He kept them back where he found them.

He hesitated at the door. What if the King is there?

He wasn’t. But there was food waiting for him on a stool next to the bed.

He crossed to open the plate, groaning in sync with his growling stomach. A bowl was overflowing with soft white rice as the spices of the sambar made his mouth water. There was also a small pile of rotis, each buttered to perfection, and another pot with paneer. Smaller bowls were revealed to have sweets, again looking juicy and tempting. Two jugs were set next to the tray, upon inspection proving to be water and a sweet wine.

Bhairava sat down.

Should he eat? Would the food have been tampered with? What would be the point in putting up this elaborate play just to poison his food? Why give all these luxuries when he could have been thrown in a dungeon cell.

His stomach growled again. Bhairava ate. Melted as the flavors burst in his mouth, rich and heavenly.

When he was done, he washed his hands. There was a desk nearby. There were some blank sheets of paper and quills and an inkpot set out on top. Investigation of the small hallways next to the mirror revealed it to be a wardrobe of sorts, with shelves nearly reaching the ceiling, each piled with clothes. Two small wooden chests near the back are filled with gemstone jewellery, rings, earrings, bracelets, anklets, armbands. Another was filled with gold accessories, and two others with silver and pearl accessories. The sheer wealth sent Bhairava’s brain spinning. He came from an average family, never had much riches to speak of. This was too much to take in.

Returning everything where he found it, he made his way back to the desk. He pulled out the chair and sat. Waited.

For what? God only knew.

He waited and waited and waited for something to happen. He fell asleep and woke up.

He found the old tray of food had been replaced, as had the bath items. Found new clothes and notes the absence of his old. All his connections to home, gone.

He frowned that so much happened and he hadn’t stirred. He didn’t eat the food that had been left behind, not trusting it. He tried to leave the room, only to find the doors locked from the other side.

He was trapped. It was a luxurious cage, but a cage nonetheless.

When the servants came next just past noon, they kept their eyes to themselves. They exchanged worried glances when they notice the food had been undisturbed. The guards leer at him but behave. He could feel their gaze on him.

He takes another bath after they leave. He still didn’t touch the food.

Bhairava starved himself for three days. Still the King did not come. Not in his waking hours at least. His dreams were still filled with those magnetic dark eyes, the phantom touch of a broad hand on his throat. Echoes of the way the King had called his name filled his ears, sending shivers down his spine each time.

Three days. He took to writing in the pieces of paper on the desk. Ramblings, notations about the weather, recollections of his trip and how he got here. How he came to be at this desk. The King’s decision was still confusing him.

As was the way his heart seems to sink each time a new servant came to his room, instead of the one man Bhairava wished to see. He took notice of how the servants were rotated. How he hasn’t had the same ones attend him twice.

They were mute as they carried out their tasks.

He stayed hungry, but eventually succumbed to the chill that permeated the room as the night wore on, and slipped under the covers of the large bed. He cried at the softness of the blanket, the mattress, the pillow. How it felt like he was laying atop a cloud.

Three days.

The door opened in the late afternoon and Bhairava perked up. The servants maintained a strict schedule of when they came to his room. This was not one of those times.

It was the advisor.

“King Raavan has requested you join him for dinner.” the man stated.

Bhairava was speechless. Both at the implication Bhairava would have any way of denying the king his request, but also at the abruptness.

The advisor sighed at his non-responsiveness. “Wear something nice from the closet. Guards will come to escort you when the clock strikes seven.”

He left. Again. Bhairava was alone. Again.

His mind raced, but the truth was there was nothing he could say against this dinner or use it as an opportunity to escape.

He walked to the small hallway. Pulled down a pair of black pants. He ran his hands through the kurtas, biting his lip before he pulled out a cream colored item, with gold piping along the hemline. He was unsure about the jewellery, but if he was to be made a fool, might as well dress the part. He selected the simplest gold bangles he could find, and topaz teardrop earrings. At the last second he grabbed a simple silver chain, seemingly more worn than the rest of the shiny accessories, decorated only with a ruby pendant. It was heavier than it looked, but it brought an odd comfort to Bhairava that he could not understand.

The color red seemed to haunt him nowadays. Almost as much as abyss-black.

As warned, the guards knocked precisely as the clock started chiming, and he was escorted through a different set of equally confusing corridors till they stopped at a feast hall. Clearly not the main one. It is not as luxurious as the rest of the palace had looked. But none of the palace he had seen so far had the ostentatious luxury that seemed to drip from these places. It was an… understated luxury, where each piece was priceless but only if you took the time to look. Otherwise it just appeared to be an ordinary frame, or staircase, or door.

A long table stretched across the middle of the room, with cushions placed at the far end of the table. Another two cushions had been placed on either side of the central arrangement. The advisor was already seated at the right hand side. Bhairava swallowed as he made his way to the left side of the table, waiting till the man nodded to sit cross-legged across from him.

A small door opened to the side, startling Bhairava. More servants poured through, each carrying dishes more fragrant than the last till the table seemed to groan under the weight of the food. The silver plate and cutlery gleamed under the lamp light.

The advisor waited till the servants finished serving out a small portion of everything onto their plates before stepping back into the shadows. He began to eat. Bhairava stared at him, wide eyed.

“What is it?” the advisor asked brusquely..

“You-You will not wait for the King? You said-”

“Raavana does what he wishes. He will comes when he wants. If he wants. I suggest you eat before the food gets cold. Especially since you apparently haven’t in the last few days.”

Bhairava bit his lip, conflicted. But once again he was left with no good options. Starving himself further would get him nowhere. And certainly would not let him escape successfully if he ever managed to get a chance.

He ate.

They finished dinner in silence.

The advisor asked the guards to escort Bhairava back to his room. As he turned the corner of the stairs, he swore he felt a familiar burning gaze, but when he looked back there was only empty air.

The cycle repeated, Bhairava wearing the nicest clothes he had ever had, changing the jewellery to match. He kept the ruby pendant though.

It was only ever the advisor at dinner.

Until it wasn’t.

Until one day, Bhairava entered the dining hall, prepared to be disappointed, only to fumble the last step as his gaze met onyx black eyes.

///

Feedback is appreciated.

Tagging (Please please work, Tumblr I beg you):  @rambheem-is-real​ @budugu​ @bromance-minus-the-b​ @junebugyeahhh​ @hissterical-nyaan​ @obsessedtoafault​ @hufhkbgg​ @yehsahihai​ @rorapostsbl​ @bluesolace1​ @fadedscarlets​ @alikokinav​ @chaotic-moonlight​ @rambheemisgoated​ @rambheemlove​ @jaganmaya​ @burningsheepcrown​ @lovingperfectionwonderland​ @rosayounan​ @iam-siriuslysher-lokid​ @thewinchestergirl1208​ @dumdaradumdaradum​ @ronaldofandom​ @jjwolfesworld​ @jrntrtitties​ @kashpaymentsonly​ @jeonmahi1864​ @zackcrazyvalentine​ @stanleykubricks​ @m3gs1mps4a​ @tulodiscord​ @teddybat24​ @sally-for-sally​ @ssabriel​ @jadebomani​ @stuckyandlarrystuff​ @veteran-fanperson​ @ohfuckoffpls

[maria021015]

SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 19 AHEAD!

Erica’s convulsing did not let up as Scott jumped into the back of the Jeep with her - him being the only one able to restrain her. “Where are we even taking her? Derek hasn’t gone back to his house for weeks!” Zaida exclaimed, the shaking in her hands starting to spread up her arms. She gripped the passenger seat beneath her and gritted her teeth, trying not to let it show, but Stiles noticed. Stiles always noticed. He sent her a worried expression with wide eyes, but she shook her head slightly, indicating for him to drop it. She didn’t want Scott to know just yet. Not when they had bigger things to worry about.

“The…railroad depot.” Erica managed to ground out between full-body spasms and choking sounds.

Stiles didn’t need to be told twice, he knew exactly where she was talking about and slammed his foot onto the pedal. They made it there within ten minutes and several ran red lights. From there on in, Scott led the way with his nose, managing to get inside through a back entrance. In their haste, they descended the stairs two at a time into the darkness of the abandoned building. Derek must have sensed that they were there because he was ready to meet them, opening the doors to a railway car.

“The Kanima attacked, and she just started seizing, we don’t know what to do,” Zaida explained frantically, her voice shaking from the nauseating fear within her stomach. The shaking had now spread to almost her whole body as if she was shivering. “Wasn’t her whole reason for taking the bite because it was supposed to stop the seizures? So, why is this happening?”

“Was she paralysed?” Derek questioned as Stiles sunk to the floor, holding Erica in his arms. The boy nodded and Derek kneeled beside him as Scott and Zaida watched on. “The Kanima venom stopped her accelerated healing. That’s why she’s having a seizure. Hold her up.”

“Is she dying?” Stiles asked anxiously, trying desperately to keep Erica as still as he possibly could while she writhed in his lap.

“She might. Which is why this is gonna hurt.” Derek answered blankly and reached out to clutch one of Erica’s arms with both hands, wrenching them to break the bone clean in half with a loud snap. Erica threw her head back and screamed. The sound of it was agonizing in and of itself, but for Zaida…it felt as if it was happening to her. She cried out and whimpered, biting her lip to stifle the noise so fiercely that she could taste the metallic essence of warm blood on her tongue. If her own pain was only an echo of what Erica was feeling…she truly felt horrible for the girl. Her eyes flickered between Scott and Derek, who were both so focused on Erica that they assumed Zaida was simply crying out in shock.

“You broke her arm!” Stiles exclaimed, outraged at the wolf’s actions. Zaida was too distracted to see the sense in it.

“It'll trigger the healing process. I still gotta get the venom out - this is where it's really gonna hurt.” Derek warned and Zaida braced herself, gripping the metal bars of the seat legs. Surely enough, the stabbing pain came, and tears spilled from her eyes as she struggled not to scream the way Erica was. Instead, she sobbed, watching through blurry vision as Derek dug his claws into Erica’s broken arm, draining the blood from the limb. Scott reached out to squeeze Zaida’s shoulder in support, believing she was having an emotional reaction to watching what was going on. From the look on Stiles’ face as she caught his eye, he knew. The boy couldn’t do anything to help her, lest he expose her secret, and she wasn’t yet ready for her newfound abilities to be out in the open yet. She sighed in sweet relief when Erica’s seizure stopped, resulting in the pain fading and the shaking stopping. The blonde wolf sagged in Stiles’ arms as she went quiet.

“Stiles...you make a good Batman…” She smiled up at him weakly and Zaida felt a pang of some unrecognisable emotion in her chest that left as swiftly as it came.

[rosesfox]

follow the white rabbit 🌸

Elain is on her first mission for Night Court, and although everything starts out well and she manages to use her powers to bring herself and Azriel to the Winter Court, some memories of her trauma begin to come to life.

words: 1.354

acotar: elriel, obviously.

for the first time she went on a mission, Elain was doing well. she concentrated on the sights and sounds that popped into her mind, the secrets the cauldron told her. that had led them here, to the Winter Court so they could hunt the monsters. 

they hadn't been properly invited, so Azriel took them down an alternate path; one where no one would see them, one where they would not be disturbed. but once inside the court, they would have to interact to get information.

Elain and Azriel were at the entrance of a village, one on the outskirts of the country. there were several shops open at that time of day and people were walking up and down, smiling or shouting or cursing. some even cried. they bought, exchanged objects, shared skills, and their destinies changed with every step they took. and Elain could see it all.

these moments, Elain realized, used to be the most difficult. even in Velaris, when she managed to keep herself open to her newfound ability to hear and see everything, the noises were often too loud. her head was so full of everything that she couldn't think of anything.

Elain had found that covering her eyes and ears didn't help. often, even, she used to make the visions and voices even clearer. so she tried to distract herself, and concentrated all her focus on little things. a bee landing on a flower in her garden, a small caterpillar walking on a leaf or the sound of her own hands stirring the earth. but here, here she couldn't be distracted. this was a job, and her family and friends were counting on her.

but it was hard not to remember what it felt like to really feel crazy. few days after the cauldron, when she couldn't distinguish her reality from what she saw and heard. when she couldn't distinguish herself from all those people she didn't know, from emotions she didn't feel. she well remembered drowning inside the cauldron, and then drowning inside her own head.

then her breathing started to quicken. her vision dimmed, and she felt her palms suddenly get wet. Elain took a step back before they'd even properly entered the village, and almost fell backwards when someone passed close enough to touch her. she had learned that it was always, always worse when someone managed to touch her.

— Elain? — it was one of Elain's favorite voices, a voice she really loved, but it seemed so far away among all the others. she didn't know the direction she was coming from. she couldn't remember who she had spoken to. the only thing there was, was everything.

Elain's hands went to her head, and again she remembered all the days when it was unbearable to live inside her own body. when her ears were sore from hitting them. when she scratched at her eyes in a desperate attempt to stop seeing so much.

her eyes began to water and she began to wonder why she was there, why she believed she could do anything after being so fucking drowned.

but then, suddenly, she was no longer surrounded by people. suddenly, she was no longer at the beginning of the village, and her only company were the trees, and the tall, incredibly silent man in front of her. Azriel. her traveling companion. the person who held her hand when she thought she was going crazy, who could hear her when no one else could. the male she was in love with. he must have used his powers to get them there.

— too loud? — he asked with a small smile, his thumb making circles on the back of her hand. of course he knew. of course he would know exactly what was bothering her so much.

Elain's cheeks flushed, and she took her hands from his as she leaned against a tree.

— i'm very sorry. i just need a minute — she couldn't face him. they had never talked about Elain's powers, mainly because of the hatred Elain felt when she remembered they existed. over time, she just drowned them until she couldn't feel them anymore. it was all for Feyre, she'd only touched those powers for Feyre. and she would try. she would do what she could, even if it actually made her a little crazier every day.

since the night of the solstice too, she didn't want to trust the intimacy of moments with Azriel. she didn't want to think, again, that there was more to it than there really was.

then she looked at her feet, and tried to turn off whatever was going on inside her head. she could still hear the sounds of people, even from afar. it was a sensation that constantly threatened to drown her.

but to her surprise, Azriel moved again.

her head suddenly went blank when he took his hands in hers and leaned his forehead against hers. this time, Elain had no choice but to look him in the eye. all sounds stopped and the only thing she could hear was the sound of her heart beating. he was so handsome. his eyes were so beautiful and it was a relief to be able to look into it. it was a relief to be able to admire his elegant features, his black hair, his full and absolutely delicious mouth.

— i know how it is. — Azriel's voice was so soft over her ears. a whisper, like the snow falling around them. — i spent a lot of time with nothing but voices that i didn't know if they were real or not.

Elain guessed he meant his shadows. while he was locked up, when he had nothing but them.

— i know what it's like when everything's too loud. — he closed his eyes, bringing their faces closer. she could feel his breath on her lips now. — i know what it's like when you can't have silence inside your own head. but i promise you it will get better. do you want to know how? — Azriel opened his eyes again, those hazel eyes so beautiful they took her breath away.

the only thing Elain could do was nod.

— you will become their friend, and they will keep telling you everything you want to know. even when there are many, even when it seems you can't handle it. because you are you, Elain. you are one of the strongest people i know. and without any effort, you would get everything you asked for. from anything, from anyone.

Elain wasn't sure about that. she knew she had a long way to go, and that getting back to the village entrance would be a challenge. but she couldn't focus on any of it. all she could think about was how close she was to Azriel, and how, again, he was able to be patient. how he was able to understand her and hear her and make her feel seen. even more so when one of Azriel's hands had slid to her waist, as he drew them even closer. she couldn't help but think: does that include you?

she had no intention of speaking aloud, but Azriel laughed. he chuckled and his free hand brushed a frozen strand from her forehead. his finger slid up to her chin, and he lifted it to him.

— more than anyone else.

Elain wasn't sure if he intended to kiss her, but she rose up on her toes and pressed her lips to his. she untangled their hands and brought them to Azriel's neck, hugging him as if her life depended on it.

and she felt like she was melting. as if her body was made for this, to be inside his arms. his lips touching hers as if they were made to mold. Elain sighed at the happiness she felt, marveling at the feeling of her heart beating so fast for something so good, that felt so right. Azriel took the moment to deepen the kiss, his tongue tangling with hers in a way that warmed her even surrounded by the coldest air.

Elain lost track of time as Azriel pulled her even closer, the hard contour of his body crashing against hers. they kissed for what felt like an eternity. long kisses, short kisses and soft kisses. kisses on her neck, kisses on his cheeks. and suddenly, Elain's body was very hot. suddenly, she needed to take off the simple dress she wore. she needed to take it all off and feel his skin on hers.

Azriel grunted as he felt the change in her body, in her essence. Elain could feel how much he wanted her too, so the only thing she did was say,

— i hear there are fine taverns in the Winter Court.

______________________🌸________________________

(impressively, I got the idea when I saw a hater saying that Elain was crazy for a while. I thought it would be something interesting to develop, especially since Azriel was canonically one of the people who stood by her the most during the adaptation period. my intention was to smut this fanfic and develop more of the relationship between Elain and Azriel, but I got lazy. maybe I'll do a second part.)