#THE MOST DEVIOUS MAN OF NORTH BLUE

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

A Stranger’s Hand (10)

Summary: With a broken heart and recent truths, the tourney for Helaena’s ladies finally begins.

Warnings: angst, some foul language, mention of blood, mentions of sex

A/N: This one’s a biggie at over 8.5k so STRAP IN. IT’S TOURNEY TIME

A Stranger Masterlist

Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11

There is something extraordinary about heartbreak.

Something so overwhelmingly painful, so endlessly unbearable. And perhaps most of all, so mercilessly soul-crushing.

And yet, feels so human.

It is grief, fur-lined with fear that joy has forever escaped. It is the plate of food that you leave behind untouched. It is the uncomfortable shudder when the bath water has become too cold. It is staring distastefully at your shoes, and not having the strength to put them on. It is the flush of pink that has forever left your cheeks and migrated north to the corners of your eyes.

How could both happiness and heartbreak be two sides of the same coin, when they barely felt like they were of the same world.

In the human sense, it felt cruel, to allow people to feel what you felt at this very moment. And something that quite possibly many women before you had felt. How could the Gods have done this, to create such a feeling as this.

Perhaps it had not been part of their plan at all. And you wondered, did they pity mere mortals when they saw such despair? When they saw how something as raw, pure and visceral as love could descend into such turmoil.

Sometimes, when you clasp the sapphire necklace around your neck, you look at yourself in the mirror and think of all the things that have been said about you. That you are an inhuman female demon, that you are an innocent victim of a man-crazed forced against your will and in danger of your own life, that you were too ignorant to know how to act, that you had green eyes, that you had blue eyes, that you had both, that you have brown hair, that you have black hair, that you are of a resentful disposition with a quarrelsome temper, that you are a temptress, that you are a virgin, that you are cunning and devious, that you are soft in the head and little better than a fool and that you are a good girl with a compliant nature.

And you wonder, how you can be all these different things at once. 

Sometimes when you are laying in bed, unable to sleep but too fearful to venture out into the dark, you whisper to yourself. Ambrose. Risley. Tarth. Thorne. All the men who over the past few days since the list was distributed, you learned would fight for your hand in marriage. Perhaps they would be kind. Or perhaps they would not. Perhaps they would insist on a bedding ceremony, and have their men tear their clothes from you at your marriage table, hands clamouring at your flesh as if you were a hen caught beneath the paw of a fox. 

Perhaps they would take pity on you and prepare you for the duty of bearing their heirs kindly and slowly. Perhaps they would take you like the whore many supposed you were and that this meant they needn’t prepare you. Perhaps they would die quickly without planting their seed inside you. Perhaps they would live and continue to torture you with their unloving presence for years yet to come. 

“Ambrose. Risley. Tarth. Thorne”

“Targaryen”

The name rouses a cloud of guilt and shame in your chest.

You thought of all this as the ache between your thighs where Aemond had been started to fade, a sore reminder.

They don’t understand. That guilt doesn’t come from the things you have done, but from the things that others have done to you.

Otto Hightower’s words are an incessant whisper in your left ear, ‘You see? How easy it is for an idea of a person to be forgotten’

And in your right, Aemond’s words from several weeks before, ‘We are wed in soul, my love’

You thought of your mother and what she would think of you. The whore or the maiden? And as Otto’s words racked around inside your head with lack of sleep, you thought more often of her and what hardships she had endured. What had happened to her, you wonder. You could almost see her face before you, but focussing on one part of her face meant that the others disappeared and blurred away into non-existence. And you wondered how long it would be before you could not remember any detail of her face. Did your father feel the same? Did he stare up at the canopy, trying to remember his wife’s face?

Despite being the middle of the night, there were still various servants strolling about the Keep in hurried manners. Preparing for traveling west to the grounds, for the tourney.

Grasping the navy robe around you tighter to make yourself appear smaller, you knocked on the oak doors, expecting a few seconds to go by before the voice would come. After all, it was the middle of the night. You looked at the moon, which was not quite full, and the longer you looked at it the further away it seemed to get.

“Lady Highgreen” came the voice of Larys Strong from between the crack of the door.

When you looked upon his face he looked expectant, almost pleased to see you at his door. For no other reason than to imagine what secrets he could draw from your pretty little mind.

“Lord Strong” you greet, not bothering to curtsy too deeply for him, “May I speak with you a moment?” 

Almost too eagerly, he opened the door a slither more and allowed you to squeeze through unnoticed. His chambers were dark, lit only by candlelight, but part of you thought that perhaps it always looked like these even in the middle of the day. A sunny day and Larys Strong didn’t seem like they could co-exist together. 

“I am very sorry to disturb you so late-” 

“It is no bother, my Lady. Please sit” he interrupts. You tie your robe tighter out of nervousness and sit opposite where you had presumed he had been before your arrival. He limps over to a table to get another cup, “I assumed you might want some wine” he says. Again, not really a question, but more of an assumption. This time a correct one.

He gives that unreadable smile when he hands you the wine filled goblet, watching the ways you clasp your nervous fingers around it in your lap. You didn’t particularly like Larys, in fact finding him a little disconcerting, but what you did appreciate was that he was forward, to the point. Something you feel is lacking in Court most of the time.

This is proven by his opening line.

“I trust you are anxious for the tourney tomorrow” 

With a curt nod, you take a sip from the cup, letting the slightly bitter wine linger a little.

“I have a duty, as does everyone else” is all you answer, but he acts like this answer is unsatisfying.

“But you do not want it”

At this, you meet his eyes. He is sitting opposite, his cane in his right hand, fingers stroking the pattern of the wood. You note that he is still dressed in his day wear, did this man ever sleep?

“I think I would be lying if I said I did, my Lord”

Larys huffs a laugh at that and you wonder for a moment what you said that was so funny. His mouth opens to say something but you endeavour to beat him to it.

“Forgive me, my Lord, but that is not why I am here” 

He raises his eyebrows at the forwardness of it, but somewhat amused. 

“Alright” he says, gripping his cane tighter, “then why are you here?”

The lack of formality does not surprise you. He is trying to be as unnerving as possible. A chill runs up your spine that you try to hide.

Taking in a breath, “I no longer wish to be tortured with the memory of my mother when I do not know what happened” you begin, “I wish to know about her, prior to my birth”

Larys cocks his head, “What would possess you to believe I know?” 

You want to say, don’t be so cocky, but you need his cooperation, “I know my mother and father were here, both for their marriage and my birth. I believe you were here also, your father was Hand of the King at that time”

He smiles, but it falters for a moment before returning. 

“Indeed. And what is it specifically that you would like to know?”

You take another sip of the wine, sending a jolt of confidence through you that you knew you’d need. 

“I have heard some rumours about her, and I would like to know if there any truth to them” you start, fingers tracing the rim of your cup, “it is said she caused quite a bit of trouble, I know no more than that” 

Larys’ smile seemed to fade at the mention of ‘trouble’ and averted his eyes, as if casting his mind back, to before a time where you were even born.

“I remember the wedding very well. Your mother was quite the picture. The Queen Mother, I believe, was present as a guest”

“So they were close?” 

“They were inseparable. As if attached to the hip. I believe the Lord Hand may have been acquainted with your grandfather”

You nod your head in understanding. Perhaps you had not realised just how close your mother and Alicent had really been.

“The ceremony lasted well into the night, your mother and father were practically hanging off one another in love. It is a rare sight to see, for an arranged marriage”

“Why were they married here?”

“I would have thought the Queen Mother insisted on having it in the capital”

Larys sighed once he swallowed some more wine. 

“Not two moons passed since the wedding when your father was hurried away for business and it didn’t take long for your mother to find herself in trouble”

You lean forward, “Trouble?...”

Larys smiled widely. 

“It is said that your mother and her cousin, Lord Cameron Tarth, were discovered in a…compromising position within her chambers”

Despite the heat of the room, your blood suddenly ran cold in your veins and you shuddered, swallowing dryly. You tried to envision it, trying desperately to not let the opinion of many others colour the judgement of your late mother. For she was not here to defend herself.

You allow Larys to carry on.

“It is unclear exactly what transpired. Your mother was beside herself with hysteria for days. And only when your father returned did she finally come out of her chambers”

“What of Lord Cameron?” you ask. You are sure he is still alive, but had never truly met him.

Larys shrugs, “Some say he left for the Wall, others say he crossed the Narrow Sea. If one thing is certain he left King’s Landing with haste”

The answer doesn’t satisfy you and you’re left with a bad taste in your mouth.

“The rest are merely baseless rumours, but many in fact believed your mother had a brief affair with Lord Cameron. And not long after-”

“She was with child” you interrupt, looking up to meet his eyes, “Was she not?” 

Larys merely nods, tapping a ring-clad finger on the rim of his cup, “Your mother was inconsolable. And I do not mean to offend you my Lady since you are living and breathing before me, but it was clear she did not desire to be with child” 

You clear your throat, “And what of my father? What did he do?”

“Well…” he sighs, casting his mind back, eyes on the ceiling of his chambers, “...your father was annoyingly very indifferent, despite the King’s counsel. It created quite the fuss and because of all the commotion there was the fear that your father would lose allies”

The realisation hit you that this was why your father so diligently allied himself to the Greens when the Dance began. He must have felt the need to prove himself, even so many years later. It didn’t make you want to swipe the smug face off Otto’s face any less though.

“In my opinion, your mother’s image was saved entirely by the Queen Mother”

Your eyes meet him again, drawing up slowly from your lap.

“She would certainly have flung herself from the Tower of the Hand to end the pregnancy had the Queen Mother not been there to comfort her”

You ponder the answers you received for a moment, learning more here than a lifetime with your father. No wonder he was secretive about her, he had not wanted to uproot her memory and stir about such rumours again.

So you polish off the rest of the wine in your cup and clasp your hands before you, offering a small curtsy before making for the door.

“Thank you Lord Larys, I appreciate your honesty”

Watching you leave with a smirk, Larys responds, “It is no problem, Lady Highgreen”

Before placing your hand on the doorknob, you swivel on your spot, seeing Larys’ eyebrows raised to his hairline.

“I must ask” you begin, “why is it that there are no records of my mother being here?”

Now Larys looked confused, “Oh there certainly are. Just perhaps not where you would expect them to be”

Why is everyone so cryptic here, you think to yourself. 

Without another word, you leave, with even more questions than what you started with. The sky that you had observed before was tinged with a light blue, the sun threatened to come over the horizon. Every hair on your arm stood on end and a shuddering breath escaped your mouth. Your father would be arriving soon no doubt. Part of you couldn’t stand the thought of returning to your chambers.  

You chant once more.

“Ambrose. Risley. Tarth. Thorne”

Usually being up at the crack of dawn was no trouble to Aemond. He had always been early to rise. It meant that he could roam about and pretend for some while that the Keep was all his own.

But this morning he felt as if he could sleep the day away without issue.

The maids rushed about his room, laying out his clothes for the day ahead, scurrying away quickly when he pushed his torso from the mattress. With a heavy sigh, the pad of his index finger traced the scar that lined half of his face. It flared with irritation and a heat emanated from beneath the skin, making it much more sensitive than it would otherwise be. It was like his body knew the consequences of today, what hardships it would bring.

He ran his fingers through his silver hair to untangle the knots he had formed in his sleep, rising to observe the plane of land outside his window. A particularly itching feeling began in his chest to look down to see if you were asleep in your usual spot, as you so often were in the months at the Keep. And how he wished he hadn’t. For when he looked down, you were there, eyes softly closed and basking in the morning sunlight, a cloud of warm breath expelled from your mouth every so often with the chill of the dawn.

Begrudgingly, he pulled his clothes over his body, making an extra effort to appear more formal and put-together. He pulled the strap over his eye and had barely attached it when a knock at his chamber door sounded. 

Sigh, “Enter” 

He immediately regretted his harsh tone when he saw who it was.

“Helaena” 

She looked sombre, with dark circles under her eyes, and the top of her nose was pink as if she had been weeping. She was dressed also, today donning a cream gown with yellow detailing. She was always one for lighter colours, in stark contrast to her younger brother.

Not a moment sooner was the door closed when Helaena rushed over to the window, “Is she still there?” she asked. 

Thoroughly confused, Aemond could only guess who she was speaking of, “Yes, she is”

“Good. I need to speak to you” 

Aemond stood awkwardly as if waiting and took a seat. Despite her hurried state, the Queen merely stood there, mouth agape, forming the words in her head first.

So it was Aemond who spoke first. And he might as well speak plainly on a day like this.

“She knows, Helaena”

Helaena met his gaze, as if it was the same thing she was going to say.

“She knows about Alys”

Aemond had never told Helaena outright about the relationship he had begun with you. But he knew, she knew. She would always know everything that happened, whether she wanted to or not. A blessing and a curse at the same time.

“You and I both know that none of it is true” Aemond began,

“Of course, we know, but she does not” Helaena began to pace about the room, “Our dear grandfather has put the idea in her head that it was a fully fledged relationship, with a child!”

Aemond huffed, even casting his mind back was incredibly difficult to do. The war, realistically, was not that long ago. But the scars felt by them were still fresh.

“It was nothing like what he said”

“She manipulated you, Aemond. And lied through her teeth to advance that child to the throne”

Aemond’s left side of his face inflames irritably. 

“She sought her chance and paid the price, no more need be said about it”

“There does when she believes you indifferent to her” Helaena argues,

“Rather she hates me for believing I would abuse her in such a way” Aemond murmurs in response, fingers tapping at the side of the armchair.

“Well then do something about it, Aemond!”

The younger brother is silenced at his sister’s volume. A rare sight to behold. Her lilac eyes bore into his and the intensity of it makes him want to turn away. Some said there was little fire in Helaena, but this wasn’t true. There was fire, but in her words.

“I cannot stand you moping around allowing her to marry somebody else” she huffs,

“It is not only my decision, Helaena. And who is to say she would even accept me now?”

“Do you hear yourself?” she asks almost too angry to form words, “If you offered your hand to her, do you think her father would be in any position to refuse?”

“Only if I participated for her hand”

“So why don’t you?”

Aemond purses his lips and looks up. If there is one thing he hates, it is to be reproached. 

But Helaena, with that aforementioned fire, does not back down, “Your pride?” she asks.

“Helaena” he sighs.

A muffled squeal is heard through the glass of the windows and Helaena looks out, seeing that your father had surprised you with his arrival by sneaking up on you in the gardens. You had your arms thrown around him, positively joyous at his arrival. For a second, the despair disappears from your face, but the moment your father turns his back, the unmistakable drop is there.

Helaena inhales sharply, looking towards her younger sibling, “They will all be here soon. I shall hope you make your decision on what is more important soon. Your pride or her”

Aemond felt he’d had the air knocked from him once Helaena had left. His scar was sore as was his mind, swimming with thoughts. He knew he had to act. He had felt what it was to have her, not only in body but in mind and soul. Aemond had a taste of what it was to feel someone’s kindness touch him so intimately and now he did not have it, he felt the sheer chasm of loneliness that the lack of her touch would allow him to fall into. The blackened abyss of what it was to watch someone you loved walk away.

No, he thought.

This couldn’t happen.

This will not happen.

He was a fucking Targaryen. 

And by the Gods, he cursed himself for forgetting the words of his own house.

Four carriages were lined up for the ladies, their fathers and Queen Helaena. Seven ladies in total were queued up to board their respective carriages, hands clasped before them, their gazes stuck on their feet before them. They looked so sombre and depressed that there may as well have been chains clanging between their wrists. Instead their father’s hand wrapped around their arms, some harshly and some with indifference.

Arm in arm with your father, his large, comforting hand on yours, your other hand bunched up the skirt of your dress to allow you to step up into the carriage. 

“You look exquisite, child” your father said, taking his spot opposite you. 

You merely smiled at his compliment, brushing some dust from your skirts. The maids had chosen all different colours for each of Helaena’s ladies, all varying shades of soft pastels. You noted that each house wore loosely a colour that their house represented, with Lady Lannister looking the most striking in a soft shade of crimson. Of course, it had meant that you wore a soft, pale blue with golden accents, akin to the bird that donned the sigil of House Highgreen.

A vaguely golden figure shuffles into the carriage and Helaena sighs as her back meets the seat. The Kingsguard murmurs nervously outside,

“My Queen, this is not your carriage-”

She merely closes the door to ignore him, barely turning her head to meet yours, she reaches over and takes your hand, intertwining her fingers into yours. She sighs again and closes her eyes, almost appearing as nervous as you, though there was little need for her to be.

Your father chooses not to say anything, instead busying himself with the view outside, watching the landscape go by before taking the road to the Waterfront to make the hour-long journey to the Tourney Grounds.

Helaena’s hand remains in yours the entire way. She had so much to say, but could not in the company of your father. So as much as it pained her to do so, she remained quiet. But you knew she was thinking of you when her grip tightened every so often.

“Will the King be in attendance, my Queen?” your father asked, knowing the answer but intent on making some conversation.

Helaena forced a smile, “Indeed, my Lord” she said quietly, “my husband prefers to ride on Sunfyre if it is nice weather”

You furrow your brows at this. It was most certainly not nice weather, in fact, it was so cloudy that at any moment the clouds could have opened to bring forth a storm. And because of the anticipation of it, it locked in the humid heat, making the air uncomfortable to breathe.

Aegon had most likely ridden the dragon to be rid of female company while he could.

“I hear Prince Daeron will be visiting from Oldtown for the tourney, your Grace”

“A rare occurrence indeed. All of us are rarely in the same place at once these days” Helaena says, squeezing your hand. It was almost painful the way her slender fingers gripped yours, but the pain barely reached you.

Instinctively, your fingers came to your necklace, turning over the pendant over and over again in a nervous gesture. The glint of the sapphire made your father look over briefly, his own fingers twisting his wedding ring. The whispers of what Larys had told you whirred around your brain and looking at your father now only made them louder. Would he ever have told you about her? For some reason, you don’t think so.

The carriage jolted to a stop, making your heart lurch from your chest.

Ambrose. Risley. Tarth. Thorne.

They echoed like a curse. Like the curse of being a woman.

Your father exited the carriage first, then Helaena, who never released her hand from yours.

“Y/n” she said quietly, in a hushed voice, “Look at me”

You obey her without question.

“...there is a broken shield…the ground opens up…he has black armour…”

She begins her usual babbling when she is nervous, “Helaena..” you say in comfort, trying to use her name to break her from her trance.

Her lilac eyes meet yours and both of her hands hold yours.

“You must be ready” 

And just like that. She is gone.

You watch the back of her disappear in the crowd of her ladies, not knowing anything of what she meant. 

You half-run to your father, taking his hand. His usual smile is something so comforting, but now, on the brink of a marriage proposal, seems so distant. He watches as you smile sadly at him, tears glazing your eyes and his hand rests on your face,

“Oh my sweet girl” he says lovingly, his mouth barely moving beneath his beard.

All notions of doubt were cast away with those words. It reminds you of being a child again. But most of all it serves to remind you that you are his daughter, and he is your father.

You barely register your head leaning against his hand, but before you can find further solace in him, you turn away. What you said with your eyes needn’t be said out loud and your hand lingers in his for a moment before you join the rest of the ladies. One lady in a blush dress is being berated by her father, with words such as ‘stop crying’ and ‘stop this ridiculousness’ being popular phrases.

You walk alongside Lady Lannister, who has resorted to silence, simply staring up at the dark clouds overhead, watching the sun as it tries to force its light between them.

She takes your hand as you file into your seats, all sitting in the front row. Helaena has the centre spot beside you, right opposite where the King would be seated. But he was not here yet and very well may be late to his own tourney.

Your eyes scanned the opposite seats. There was a seat akin to a throne for Aegon, two beside him and another next to those which Alicent was seated in. On Aegon’s left there would be his youngest brother, Prince Daeron and on his right, would be Prince Aemond. But all three were empty. On the other side, sat as surly as ever, was Otto Hightower. It was difficult to know for certain, but his eyes seemed to flit between you and his granddaughter, Helaena. His words were still haunting your idle mind, and it rang there like a curse.

You feel Lady Lannister’s leg twitch with nervousness as you look over to Alicent, nodding when you meet eyes. Her expression is distant and she immediately looks away once she gives a smile of greeting, staring into a random void that was anywhere but here.

A band of at least a dozen men clad in armour began to file onto the field before you, while the staff began to write the schedule on the board for all to see. You watched them write all the names, gut wrenching to see that your name was placed last, right after Lady Lannister. And as well as that, the names of the men who submitted names were also written there.

It made your furrow your brows. All names were in alphabetical order, save yours. And when your eyes spotted your father sat on the opposing stands, his brows were scrunched together in question as well.

A ray of sun poked from between two dark clouds as Aegon advanced to his spot with another silver haired young man, who you presumed was Daeron. Daeron the Daring, they called him, for his endeavours during the Dance. And from this angle, as he sat and observed the people before him, no wonder he had earned the nickname, for he looked every bit as mischievous as you had expected him to be.

The band began to play when Aegon took his seat, initiating the beginning. At this you furrowed your brows. Aemond was not here. A little part of your heart that still had some hope died immediately and your spare hand clenched the skirts of your dress, stress overtook your senses and you felt like you could vomit right there and then.

Helaena leaned to you, “I will not let you go” she whispered.

More cryptic messages, you thought.

“I thank you all for joining me on this joyous day” Aegon’s voice immediately halted everyone, and all eyes were suddenly on him. There was a slight slur to his voice as he continued, “Let the tourney for Queen Helaena’s ladies, begin” 

His eyes were trained on you it seemed as he sat down, a goblet of wine instantly materialising in his hand. The band’s music was a welcome distraction to all the chuntering and whispering going on amongst the ladies, especially the lady who was first to have her hand fought for. Two men mounted their horses in their respective colours and the lady seemed to weep silently just watching. 

She clutched her flowered favour in her hands, almost so tight that she crushed the petals. Other women resorted to letting their eyes wander, and when you did, you could see the outline of Kings Landing with Aegon’s High Hill visible only barely beneath the blanket of dark clouds. 

The clash of swords made you jump in your spot and a high-pitched male cry sounded out, cheers and clapping erupting from the stands as one man was pushed from his horse. A trail of thick blood followed his limping form as he clutched his leg, his ancestral sword still firmly in his grip.

It was only when the winning bachelor raised his sword that his opponent dropped his weapon, “I yield!” he shouts, not wishing to risk either more blood nor his life for the likes of a woman.

More silent tears adorn the lady’s cheeks as she stands, lowering her favour onto the winner’s sword. In truth she may have been more upset at the bloodshed than at the prospect of marrying the victor, for he was known to be quite kind and not bad on the eyes. Nonetheless, she took her seat once more as her flowers decorated the hilt of his weapon and he took his leave with a big grin on his face.

If the first one was quick, the following tourneys were slow. Some of the ladies had as many as six men fighting for their hand, so often it would result in hand to hand combat, with swords swinging, cutting the very air around them. The thud of their swords on shields was enough to send a dull chill into the spines of the spectators, with their hearts making a similar noise.

You look up to see Aegon lean over in his seat, speaking with Alicent. Whatever he asks, he has to repeat over the noise of the band, shouting and cheering and the only thing you read on his lips is ‘Aemond’. Alicent shrugs her shoulders and Aegon turns back to lock eyes with you, peering over the rim of his goblet. Flitting between you and Helaena as if in question.

Otto never takes his firm gaze off you for more than a few moments as the hours drag on.

You finally breathe when the intermission begins. Six out of Helaena’s ten ladies now have their prospective husbands, and at least half of them would not stop weeping. So you followed the ladies as they all crowded to the refreshments, most if not all of the ladies with a generous cup of wine in their hands. When you look across the clearing, something jumps inside your chest when you see your father smiling jovially in conversation with Alicent Hightower and for the first time all day it felt like, she was smiling along with him.

“Lady Highgreen”

The familiar voice of Otto Hightower behind you soured your mood instantly. Begrudgingly, you turn to face him and offer a slight curtsy, not quite making all the effort.

“My Lord Hand, how are you today” you ask flatly, not hiding the annoyance on your features.

Much like you have seen Aemond do with other people, he revels in the discomfort he brings and smiles, “It is a fine day for a tourney” he comments.

Why does everyone keep saying that, you think, it is foul weather.

But you just nod your head, taking a sip of wine and steal a glance at your father. His smile has dropped once he sees who is speaking with you.

When Otto realises you will not dignify him with a response, he continues, “I hope the Prince’s absence is not of your doing” he says.

You cock your head at him, “I know nothing of his whereabouts, Lord Hand”

“Do not play coy with me” he warns, his voice low and serious. Quiet as well, to not upset your father, who is still watching.

Your ring finger taps against the goblet, eyes averted.

“There is no great plot. Whether the Prince is present or not is of no great advantage to me”

“And I was born yesterday” he answers. 

You lock eyes.

“I have not spoken to him. Nor has he spoken to me. As I asked” You counter his words.

“Do you expect me to believe that. Truly?” 

“Believe as you wish, Lord Hand. I have said my truth” 

Otto is about to return the favour, when your father crosses the clearing, intent to talk to you. And like a cockroach in the ray of light, Otto scurries away, not even sending your father a mere greeting.

“What did the Lord Hand want?” your father asks and you’re shocked by his rather serious tone, as he is so usually found with a smile on his face. But now he watches Otto walk away, as if making sure he is truly leaving. Burning a brand into the back of the man’s head.

“He spoke of the tourney, nothing more”

Your father knows this is a lie, but does not explore further as he looks down at you, an ever-fatherly protective expression on his face.

“You are on Otto’s bad side, when you ought to be on his blind side, dear daughter”

“Father?...”

A look flashes across his face and he lovingly places a kiss to your forehead, almost instantly snapping back into his usual persona. You go to open your mouth once more, but in a flash he is gone. And even when you look back across the clearing, Alicent is gone as well. Each of them feeling more like a ghost the longer the day went on.

As you all filed back to your seats, Lady Lannister stuck to one side of you and Helaena to the other, you gripped the favour in your lap. It was a ring of blue flowers, the ones that grew knee high in the fields at Green Hill and the only ones that were native to that region of Westeros. They were tied with white and golden ribbon, colours to reflect House Highgreen once more. 

You watched as the tourney ramped up once more and now with wine in their bellies, it had become significantly more violent. Two young men had already been carried away with what appeared to be life-changing injuries and now it seemed like the men were purely doing it out of enjoyment and not at the prospect of marriage. 

Seven men lined one side of the grounds, their respective betrothed’s favours around their weapons. Then eight. The ninth tourney begins and two of the men who fight for Lady Lannister had also placed their names for you also, but whether that would happen was another thing entirely. Lady Lannister took in a breath and gripped your hand tightly and who were you to refuse her this kindness? This comfort.

The two men grunted like animals, almost matching the sounds their horses were making as the two began to fight. You sit and watch the sun disappear beneath the dark clouds, seeing how the rain begins to fall somewhere far away and threatens to come closer. But just as quickly, the fight is complete and Victor of House Risley lays flat on the floor, his leg facing a direction it most certainly shouldn’t be. His shield that donned his house sigil is completely shattered.

The crowd erupts in applause and Lady Lannister’s fate is sealed with Rickard of House Thorne. Her father across is clapping and nodding in approval as she stands and places her favour on the tip of his sword, watching as it sways to the hilt towards his face, which smiles up at her. He has a kind enough face and you only hope that she is at least happy. When she takes her seat once more, she no longer weeps and does not reach for your hand. It is as if her soul is taking refuge within herself. 

Since Victor is critically injured and Rickard had claimed Lady Lannister as his betrothed, that left two men for you. Marq of House Ambrose and Bryndemere of House Tarth. You swallow dryly and grip the favour, now empathising with what the previous ladies had all felt. Briefly, you look over at your father, almost in a last-ditch effort to plead for him to call it all off. But he merely looks on as Victor is hauled away screaming. By now the ground is wet with blood. 

“I feel sick…” you whisper to yourself. But Helaena must have heard you, as she places her warm, comforting palm on your knuckles, peering over to see your expression. 

“We will not let you go” she says.

The two remaining men enter the field and you hold your breath, fearing that if you let go, so would the dam that was holding your tears back. Marq is wearing silver armour with trims of yellow in reflection of his house and he barely offers a glance in your direction as his squire laces up his gloves. Bryndemere on the other hand, with lance in hand, cannot tear his eyes off you. You think that this is not because of some infatuation, but more so that you two were well-acquainted as children, being distantly related through your mother’s Tarth side. He almost has an sympathetic expression, before placing his lacquered black helmet upon his person, matching with the rest of his armour.

You close your eyes, intent on not watching at all. But the first clash of weapons is too bone-shattering to ignore and you jump in your seat, gripping Helaena’s hand tighter. You feel a protective part of you flare as Bryndemere is flung from his horse, gasping for air as he’s hit square in his chest. His father stands on the opposite side, mouth agape, to see if his son is alright. 

Marq, on the other hand, merely dismounts with a swagger in his step towards him, drawing his ancestral sword from his side to strike down. Once again, a shield is shattered, with its piercing splinters flying about. Marq’s laugh echoes inside his helmet as he raises his weapon to strike.

“I yield!” Bryndemere begs. 

With a sigh, a part of your dam breaks and you close your eyes, several tears fall down your face. Ambrose it is.

Victorious, Marq removes his helmet and revels in the cheers of the audience. His own father is clapping, almost deafening the man next to him. You place Helaena’s hand back on her lap and stand, hand finding purchase on the beam before you when you sway uncontrollably on the spot. When his eyes land on you, you swear it activates a different part of your subconscious that tells you to run. 

But instead he waltzes towards you, extending his sword for your favour.

No sooner do you take one step and the entire audience falls into silence. A great sound is heard like no other that echoes about the deserted land around you. While difficult to describe, it was only akin to the crumbling of stone, the crash of waves against rock and the chaos of a great fire. A single drop of rain falls between your feet when you look around. It seems like the world holds its breath, ready to hear it once more. 

It happens again but closer, all the wind knocked from everyone’s lungs when the very ground sways beneath you, rocking the stands. While it is too close for comfort, a great dragon claw grips the ground behind the stand and the very earth opens up to reveal the damp mud below, the unmistakable tracks left behind. 

With your breath heaving in your throat and ground still moving beneath you like being aboard a ship, you look up. It is distant enough that it’s almost difficult to see, but it is Vhagar’s large head that turns around the stand to let out her famously loud cry, sending the dust in the air vibrating. Your watery eyes track her scales up her neck to her back where there was his silhouette sitting atop the mighty dragon. He was sat calmly, the only movement was his stark silver hair against the darkened clouds. 

Women screamed, some even fainted at the sight of Vhagar. And you did not see, for your eyes were locked on his form, but Aegon and Otto both stood from their seats. Aegon had a confusing look on his face, not able to tell if he was amused or annoyed. Otto on the other hand was seething from head to toe, shaking his fists. Alicent had her hand on her seven-pointed star necklace at her chest. Daeron stayed seated and smiled, as if saying finally, something interesting.

“Aemond…” were the only words that came from your mouth in a whisper. 

Helaena almost laughed with glee.

You can feel the first smattering of rain on the side of your face as the wind picks up, showering droplets onto your face. You swear you see him turn his face down to look at you, but the distance makes it impossible to tell. What you can see is how naturally he dismounts his great dragon, a helmet in the shape of a dragon head in one hand.

Only when he approaches does everyone get a good look at him. His hair is down but pulled away from his face, his eyepatch fixed in place over it. He has one hand on the hilt of his sword and the other is holding his helmet, his gaze is locked on yours for a moment and you forget briefly how to breathe. He doesn’t look anything like you remember him. 

When you think of Aemond and his presence, he seemed stoic, impassive and very much an observer. His aura was intimidating in general, but as time went on this front crumbled before you to reveal a sensitive, emotional human behind it all.

But now. There was something else in his eyes and not necessarily when it was aimed at you, but something had taken root there.

Marq made the mistake of opening his mouth in a smile, “My Prince! So nice to see you”

Aemond didn’t return the greeting, only granting him a darkened look.

“I’ve come to duel for Lady Highgreen’s hand” 

The words that come from Aemond’s mouth almost make you weak and you barely feel Helaena’s kind hands guide you back into your seat, her thumb stroking your skin.

Marq huffs a laugh, “My Prince I am afraid I have claimed her hand for myself already. Fair and square”

Helaena swallows and the audience as well as the band are deathly quiet. Afraid that if one sound was made that it would shatter the tension between them. Aemond’s smile almost makes everyone more uneasy.

“I see no favour on your sword, Lord Ambrose” he draws his own sword slowly and hands it to a squire, who visibly shakes, “Do you refuse your Prince?” he smiles.

Marq swallows dryly, clearly nervous. He knows it, he is damned if he does and damned if he doesn’t. The Prince wishes to toy with him and he is in no position to refuse. Rather, he needs to put up a good fight.

“And where is your name on the board, Prince Aemond?” Marq questions it, but it’s clear from the shake in his voice how he feels, “You would take away what is rightfully mine?”

When Marq talks of you as if you are an object to be bartered for, a noticeable chill runs up your spine. 

Little does he know that his bark is only giving Aemond more satisfaction.

“Hm” he seems amused, “Rightfully or no, duel me or I will take her to Dragonstone myself and make her my wife” 

A few womanly gasps emit from the stand, half in shock at the scandalousness of it, the other half seem to look on smiling. Your breath catches in your throat at the vulgarity of what he threatens Marq with, but in reality, a little part of you that had that love left for him begins to unfurl.

When Aemond gets no response, the squire hands his sword back to him once he’s placed his helmet on and he points the tip towards the Ambrose man.

“Either way, Ambrose, she will be my wife. And she will be mine”

You can’t tell if you’re afraid or thankful for what Aemond says. Your father looks absolutely shocked and you’re not sure if that’s entirely a good thing.

But Marq of House Ambrose, in front of all these people, is not likely to swallow his pride and yield. Instead, he places his own helmet back on and gets into a readied stance. For a brief second you dare to flit across to the King and his family.

Alicent looks half-shocked and half-relieved, Aegon and Daeron are amused. Otto is most certainly not and you dare say, he will make his distaste for it all obvious once the tourney is over, whether the result is favourable to you or not. 

As skilled a swordsman as Aemond is, your heart lurches in your chest at the mere thought of him risking any injury for this. You had thought many men who fought here today were brave and skilful and yet some had lost limbs for the sake of a betrothal. Your fingernail dug into your palm to distract you from the emotional turmoil you felt in this moment. Tugging in two directions. One tugs in the way of heartbreak, the thought that something inside you had been lost forever at the revelation several nights ago. On tugs in the way of hope, a hope that despite all that, he did feel something.

The first clash of swords rings out, followed by a sharp swish as Aemond pushes Marq away with his weapon. You just know that Aemond is smiling beneath the helmet he is wearing, loving the humiliation he imagines Marq must be feeling. The two continue this dance for several minutes, mostly because Aemond revels in the torture that this must be for the audience. Marq delivers his own flat strike onto Aemond’s shoulder and whether he is pretending or not, it clashes on his armour and sends him to his knees. 

In a stroke of confidence, Marq straddles Aemond and attempts to plunge the sword down beneath him with a loud grunt. You wince when he parries it, sending the two longswords flying a fair distance. Aemond hooks his foot beneath Marq’s leg, flipping him so the poor Ambrose man is on his front, writhing around while the Prince’s foot is flat in the centre of his back.

You almost jump out of your seat when Aemond draws his dagger, pulling Marq’s head up from the dirt by his hair to place the blade beneath his neck. It shocks you. You’ve never seen Aemond act so brutal before. And it stirs something inside you which has never seen the light of day before. 

Aemond almost looks bored when he says it.

“Say it” 

“I yield” Marq hisses, but Aemond pulls his hair even more so.

“Louder, so they can hear you” 

Aemond locks eyes with you now and you can see his lilac eye shimmer in the darkness of his helmet.

He sighs when Marq doesn’t respond, so he pushes the dagger so it is flush with the tender skin of his throat.

“I can’t hear you”

“I fucking yield!”

Once Aemond pulls off his helmet, the audience erupts into thunderous applause. He makes no big show about it, egging them on, and instead keeps his eye firmly on you. The rain falls thick and fast now and your waves form locks as they dampen, it makes the dried tears on your face appear as if it’s just rain now and you feel a warm trickle of it run down your neck.

Without breaking his gaze from you, he raises his hand to pull off his eyepatch and stands before you at the stands, bending to pick up his longsword that had been launched in the duel. He twists the hilt in his palm a few times and stays still as the applause continues. 

You look down at him, still clutching your favour in your hand, the petals now moulded to the shape of your grip. For a moment you consider if his mournful look is an apology. As if despite the show he had put on, he was still asking for your hand. And only when he was sure he would be forgiven, would he raise his sword to accept your favour.

He appears tired, you now see. And he thinks the same of you. Weak and pale, as if all warmth has disappeared. It’s here, with the absence of the eyepatch, that you see how red and inflamed his scar looks, and how much he must ache. For a moment, you glance over at Vhagar who is almost watching the interaction with as much interest as the audience, her throat rumbles when your eyes catch her.

Only when you look back at Aemond does he mouth, my love. Almost in a question.

Your body moves before your mind and you stand, letting Helaena’s hand slip out of yours and she watches with a child-like glee at the scene before her. You give a very slight smile as you reach out, the tip of his sword is within reach. The rain penetrates your clothing into your skin as the flowers float to the hilt of his sword, you exhale with a wracked laugh, finally allowing a genuine smile to pass your features.

Aemond looks a mixture of relieved and happy when the flowers reach his sword. He ignores the stares of his family, of your father and of everyone else; his attention is specifically you. And for as long as he lives, will only ever be you.

You barely register Aemond’s arm reaching out to wrap around your waist, suddenly feeling embarrassed when he effortlessly lifts you off the stands. The smile is unmistakable on his face now as the audience shout and cheer for the dramatics the Prince is offering. He leads you by your hand back towards Vhagar, the pleading voice of Alicent and your father becomes muffled and distant. Aemond seems a man charged with power when he lifts you to the saddle in front of him wrapping the reins around your waist.

“Sōvēs” is all he commands to his dragon.

“Aemond…!” you shout in shock as Vhagar lifts her feet to flap her wide wings, naturally grasping his arm to keep you stable. A natural dragon rider, Aemond barely sways in his spot and keeps his arm around your waist as the rain pounds down, mixing with the mud and blood on the tourney grounds. In the distance, as Vhagar lifts to the sky, Marq of House Ambrose is being berated by his father. And you briefly see your father stand where he was sat in the stands, a proud smile on his face. 

Taglist:  @m00n5t0n3 @boofy1998 @merakiaes​ @hanihoney88 @let-love-bleeds-red​ @bellaisasleep​ @watercolorskyy @heavenley1927 @ryswritingrecord @partypoison00 @gaeela-6 @saeselkie @padfooteyes @introverbatim @queenofshinigamis @thatkingofgirl @ryswritingrecord @dahlias-and-marigolds​

[the-scribe-and-her-scribbles]

iwcb | ch. 6 - promises, promises

it will come back - fae! prussia x reader - chapter 6

It Will Come Back Masterlist and Summary

word count: 4251

chapter warnings: none?

chapter summary: You and Gilbert make a decision.

tagging list: @jtownraindancer​  @redrosesociety1​

6. promises, promises

Far away, in a manor that sits on a rocky hill in Albion, High Lord Arthur Kirkland paces in his study.  His coat is thrown over a fainting couch, and with a wave of his hand, magic ripples across the pool of water sitting on a table.

“This is turning out to be far more tiring,” Arthur mutters to himself, rubbing the ridge of his forehead. “I mean really.”

Arthur isn’t upset, and he certainly isn’t frazzled, (he could never be), but he is irked. Gilbert had been a pain in his side from the moment had heard the rumours about him during his days as a ‘privateer’. He knew Gilbert would be a tough opponent, but the prick just slipping out of that spell, when the three of them wrote it specifically so he couldn’t? Well, it was unbelievable.

“Arthur? Arthur!”

“Yes, right! I’m here.” Arthur is pulled out his muttering, to look at the projections that now stand in his home.

“Any news?” Asks a pale blond man. Lukas’s figure shimmers, just transparent enough to be noticeable. He’s wearing a heavy, blue cloak, lined in fur to protect him from an early winter in the North Isles.

“Yes, I regret to inform the both of you that our dear friend Mr. Beilschmidt did manage to make an early escape.”

“Shit,” Mutters Vladimir under his breath. “I thought you said it was impossible.”

“Technically nothing is ‘impossible.’”

“You know what I mean, Lukas. He said that it was impossible, that you were sure that he didn’t have one, so he couldn’t get out.”

“I was sure!” Arthur says. “I had a very reliable source, but as it turns out, there was an oversight.”

“It’s much more than an oversight,” Lukas says. “You persuaded us to help you with this Wandering Wood problem under the guise that it would be mutually beneficial to our courts with no consequence. Now, Gilbert Beilschmidt is out again, and wants revenge.”

“And that demon holds grudges.” Vladimir adds.

Arthur pauses in thought. “It’s not a lost cause just yet.” He says. “Gilbert has only managed to escape the Library, and he can’t destroy it quite yet. He doesn’t have his toys”

Vladimir smiles with gleeful, sharp teeth. “Ooo, you are right! If we can stop him from  getting them, we can lock him back up!”

“Some changes to the spell will need to be made,” offers Lukas. “But it should only take three or four days.”

Now Arthur grins. “And in the meantime, I know how to slow him down.” All three of them nod together.

“What about that human that he’s toting along?”

“The girl?”

“Yes, what should be done about her?” Lukas asks

“She is quite important to him,” Arthur says.

Vladimir smiles, wicked and devious. “Then we should definitely repay the little curse-breaker of his.” The trio nods to each other.

“I see we are in agreement!” Arthur says, clasping his gloved hands and rubbing them together. “We’ll take off to prepare everything, then meet in the Wandering Wood to take care of Mr. Beilschmidt once and for all.”

With farewells, Lukas and Vladimir dismiss their illusions, leaving Arthur alone. He quickly turns and glides out of the room.

“Arthur! Matthew!” He calls, stepping foot onto the courtyard. Two young men who look strikingly similar look to him. “I have a task for you two.”

So tell me,

Do you want to punish

Those who have wronged you?

It’s later into the afternoon, and you’ve finished reading most of your book. Ludwig has gone outside again to do something.

Soon, the dogs start barking and you hear footsteps come up the porch. The door opens and Gilbert walks in. He’s wearing the same clothes he wore yesterday. His leather boots make the floorboards creak under him. He looks to you, then around the cabin.

“Hello,” he says curtly.

“Where were you today?” You ask, softly placing your book on a table in front of you. He cards his fingers (which you notice are stained black from magic again) through his hair.

“Oh, you know, just having a chat with Arthur.” You look at Gilbert and wonder if you heard right. He’s standing in front of the window, leaning against the counter, like he isn’t talking about his casual meet-up with his sworn enemy.

“You talked with the man who locked you away?”

“Well, I tried to tell him to fuck off, but I don’t think I was convincing enough,” Gilbert shrugs.

With long strides, he walks over to an empty chair a bit away from you. He sits down and throws his feet up on the table, right on top of your book. You roll your eyes, lift a foot and kick them off. Gilbert laughs as you reach forward and grab it, resting your book safely in your lap.

“Has this been what you’ve done all day?”

You stop dusting the dirt from his boots off the cover to glare at him. “What else is there to do?It's not like I have a nemesis to taunt in the Unseen World.”

“Are you implying that you have a nemesis in the human world?”

“That’s none of your business,” you say, opening your book to try and ignore him.

It’s silent for a bit, and you can almost lose yourself in the pages below you, but Gilbert doesn’t seem content with that.

“How’s your head?” He asks softly, bringing up the one thing you don’t want to talk about, but you’re a human, so you lie and hope that’s the end of it.

“It’s fine. I can hardly feel it.” To try and sell it, you don’t look up from your book. Gilbert shifts in his chair and you can feel his heat as he leans over you. His fingers nudge the back of your head, and you wince.  When you look at Gilbert, he’s glaring at you.

“You are a shit liar, Maus.”

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it.”

“We have to talk about it.”

“No, we don’t.” You say. Gilbert opens his mouth to say something and you stop him. “I don’t want to do this right now.”

You feel silly, you’re fine, but emotionally you’re so overwhelmed. Everything that’s happened in the two days you’ve been here is tucked neatly away in a box at the back of your mind. You don’t think you have enough energy to pry it open and you really don’t want Gilbert to see you burst into tears if he pushes. Thankfully, Gilbert doesn’t say anything else. He just stares, then rises from his seat.

“I’m going to get Ludwig. We have to talk about what’s next.”

You listen to the sound of his boots against the wood floors and the door that slams as he leaves.

I promise you I'll be better

I promise you I'll try

But like rubbing wine stains into rugs, it's my curse

To try and make it right, but by trying to make it worse.

The three of you gather around the table. The sun starts to sink in the sky. And the shadows of trees stretch over the ground outside. The dogs were sent outside, probably harassing the small creatures in the woods and leaving you three to talk in peace. A pot of something is warming over the wood stove.

Gilbert catches you and Ludwig up on his encounter with Arthur.

“Well, this certainly isn’t good.” Ludwig says, rubbing at his chin in thought.

“No shit,” you think. You’re still reeling from the fact that this ‘Arthur’ person sent those men to kill you, just for busting Gilbert out.

“Stop chewing your nails,” Gilbert whispers, nudging you out of your nervous thoughts. You look down at your hands. You hadn’t even noticed you were doing it, but your fingernails were short and torn at the edges from your teeth. If you chewed them any shorter, they might’ve bled. You rub your hands along the tops of your thighs.

“Thanks,” you whisper back to him.

Ludwig carries on, not noticing the exchange, or just not mentioning it. “But this does confirm that the imprisonment spell is still intact and that you’re still tied to it in some way if Arthur thought he could just send you back with a quick spell,” he says.

“Which means they’ll probably try to throw you back in,” you say to Gilbert. Beside you, he nods.

You think back to that place. The dark, blue-tinged light. The looming, crowded bookcases  made it hard to breathe. No windows, no exits, nothing. Thinking of it makes you shiver. How clever and cruel.

“By how easy it was to dispel, I think it's going to take all three of them to get me back in,”

Ludwig nods. “Like before.”

You look at them. “So all three of your sworn enemies are coming here, to slam you back in prison? No offence, Gilbert, but why do they need to go through the trouble?”

“What can I say?” He chuckles. “I’m very popular.”

Both you and Ludwig roll your eyes.

“I’m being serious, asshole.” You say.

“Ok, fine.” Gilbert straightens up. “You remember what I told you about my court when we first met, right?”

“Ya, that you founded it and expanded your territory.”

“Well, Beilschmidt house spread to rule over all of the Wandering Wood,” he says as he gestures to the map on the wall at the back of the cabin. “That’s where we are now.”

Gilbert continues. “The Wandering Wood never used to be ruled by a house. Villages were too spread out, the forest was too hard to traverse on foot, and the wild magic made the forest and its creatures dangerous. It’s not worth it when neighbouring courts can just come by boat up through the rivers and take things, and not have to worry about bargaining with the low-born fae.”

“And your house would have stopped that.”

“Exactly, if we had succeeded, The Wandering Wood would be the largest fae court on the continent.”

“Well, shit…” you say. No wonder it was so important.

“If they’re trying to throw you back into that prison, is there a way to destroy it?”  Ludwig asks.

“The prison itself didn’t take physical form, I was just transported into the extra-dimensional space the spell made, so I couldn’t destroy it in any way that mattered” Gilbert mutters, growing frustrated.

You think back to the Library, and remember those glowing red, green and blue runes that burned on the wall. An idea comes to mind.

“Okay, I don’t know much about magic, but…” you speak up. “If you can’t destroy it physically, could you destroy the spellwork, like make it come undone?”

Gilbert raises his head and looks to Ludwig, then you.

“Oh mouse,” he says as he smirks. “I always said you were clever.” He ruffles the top of your head and you bat his hand away. He turns to his brother and asks, “A long time ago, I told you to do something for me if anything like this ever happened,” he asks him.

Ludwig looks confused for a moment. “Yes, I remember.” You watch the exchange.

“Remember what?”

“Way back, before I’d officially founded our house, I told Ludwig that if anything happened to me, he had to take some items of mine and hide them away,” Gilbert explains. “They have magical properties and were attuned to my magic. I can’t destroy the library, but with those items, I could destroy the spell as Arthur, Lukas, and Vladimir try to cast it, like snipping yarn at someone tries to knit a sweater”

This makes sense to you. If the spell has a connection to the prison, it has a link to the magic that makes up the prison.

“Hold on,” you interrupt.  “What are the others?” You ask.

“There are three things in total. The first is a pair of gloves with protective charms on them, the second is my sword, Ausdauernd, and the third is my bird.”

“There’s a bird?” This is way too much to handle.

“I had a hunting hawk.”

“Okay,” you say. “That’s it? A pair of gloves, a sword and a bird? That’s not so bad.”

Returning home might not take too long, you think. You look at Ludwig and see he doesn’t look so convinced.

“There is a problem,” Ludwig says quietly. “I was able to hide the gloves, but you might not be able to get the others.”

“I don’t know where your hawk is, but I do know who has your sword. Vladimir grabbed it as a souvenir.”

“What?” You say. Gilbert has leaned back in his chair, pinching his brow.

“There isn’t any other way to do this,” Gilbert says. “We can leave tomorrow morning for the others and cross that bridge when we get to it.”

“We? I have to stay for this?”

“That was the deal.”

“That was not the deal! You said that we would find your brother so you could figure out how to send me back.”

“I said that if you helped free me, I would send you back, and I’m not entirely free yet. If you help me get all my stuff, and I can defeat my enemies, I’ll send you back.”

“So this is a revenge quest?” You say cooly.

“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve hunted down a monster who's wronged me.”

“You don’t kill a monster without becoming one.”

“Do you think of me as a monster?” Gilbert bites. You don’t answer. You only rise from the table, shaking the image of spirit berries and scattered bodies from your mind, and walk out the door.

Oh lead me to the truth and I,

Will follow you with my whole life.

As the door slams behind you, Gilbert is quiet. His brother sits across from him, his head turned to watch you leave.

“This isn’t good,” he says. “She shouldn’t have to do this.”

“I don’t like this any more than you do, but it’s not like we have a choice.”

“It will be dangerous for the both of you.”

“And I don’t have anything of mine to help,” Gilbert reminds him. Ludwig pauses for a minute, then gets up. He walks over to the back of the cabin and opens a chest.

“I was able to salvage one thing of yours in the chaos,” Ludwig says from across the room. He walks back over and hands Gilbert a dagger. It’s a sophisticated steel blade with a black and red grip. Its sheath is made of black leather, with swirling impressions and a red oval at the centre. It’s not just any only knife, it was Gilbert’s. The dagger was given to him by their grandfather.

Gilbert looks at his brother. “You still have this old thing?”

“I’d figure you’d come back to get it soon enough.”

“It won’t be much use in a battle.”

“That’s why I’m also giving you this,” Ludwig says. He hands Gilbert a sword, wrapped in cloth with only its hilt showing. Gilbert immediately recognizes it as Ludwig’s own sword. It’s a simple steel blade with a bronze cross-guard and pommel. It was passed on from their grandfather to Ludwig.  Despite being many years old, it looks like it did when it was first made. The black grip of the handle is shiny and smooth, and the blade is so well polished that it could be used as a mirror. While the sword has no magical properties aside from a basic sharpening charm, Gilbert knows that this is his brother’s most prized possession, the last thing he has of their grandfather.

“You’re giving me this?”

“I’m letting you borrow it,” he says firmly. “I want it back after all this is over.”

Gilbert sits in the chair. Tracing the edges of its handle, before sliding it back into its leather sheath.

“And take care of her,” Ludwig says. “Try not to be such a selfish asshole.”

“I will.”

For the years have been long

And you have taught me well

to sit and wait

In every story, there’s the point of no return, where the hero stands at the edge of the rest of the plot. Behind them is their normal life, and past the threshold is something different.

This is not that.

You are well past the point of no return. There is no path behind you that can return you to your life. In fact, the choice to even step into this was taken away from you. This is it. You can only go forward from this point.

If you stay here and don’t help Gilbert you’re just stuck. Arthur will most likely come after you again. You could go off on your own, try and figure out a way to survive this world and leave Gilbert behind, but you know it would be a mistake. The only way you can go back to normal is to follow Gilbert.

You think about what is coming next, and all the risks that come with the decision, while you sit on the deck of Ludwig’s cabin.

(You do this a lot. Thinking, that is. You’re studying Philosophy, so it's all you do, but you’ve had days to stop and think. Your time is up. Now, you have to walk forward, this time, by your own choice.)

Outside, the sun is peeking out over the trees, leaving the porch only half-lit. You take a deep breath. The air is fresh and crisp. You are sitting on the ledge of the deck, your legs swinging softly as you look out into the woods at the edge of the clearing.

Behind you, the door opens and you’re half expecting Gilbert to walk out, but it’s not him. Ludwig walks over, Aster trotting behind him, and takes a seat beside you. He hands you a mug. It's warm in your palms and the steam tickles under your chin.

“Thank you, Ludwig. This smells great.” And it does. It’s some type of cider. Apple, maybe? Do they even have apples here? You don’t know, but it looks delicious.

You look back up at him. He’s sitting beside you, looking attentively. You can’t help but wonder how Gilbert could have raised such a decent guy.

“Your world is very different from ours, correct?” Ludwig says, his voice low and soft.

You nod. “Very, but there are some things that are similar. The grass is green, the sky is an identical shade of blue-” You try to find the right worlds. “But it feels different.It’s like there’s something in the back of my mind that knows something’s off. Sometimes it’s barely noticeable, and I feel more like I’m exploring this world than trapped. Other times, the ‘otherness’ is all I can feel.”

“I’m sorry it feels like that,” he says. It's sincere. He’s not smirking, or teasing you. He really means what he says.

You ask him, “Why are you so nice?” He chuckles.

“I don’t know, most people think I’m scary, actually.” You can kind of understand that. He doesn’t seem like someone who opens up easily to others. Ludwig goes on to say, “I don’t know. I just feel that after all this is over, we’ll see each other again.”

“Well, that’s unlikely. After this, I’m going home.” You say, but instantly regret it with the way Ludwig stares off into the distance. “But if I can see your dogs again, you might be able to lure me back.” You say, reaching down you scratch behind Aster’s ears. Ludwig turns to you and gives a small smile, which you mirror.

Planning without acting

Steadily becoming what I hate

Before long, Ludwig finishes his drink before you and goes inside. You sit on the porch, the empty mug growing cold in your hands, and even though the chill is seeping into your cheeks, you’re not ready to go in yet.

“I thought you humans could get sick if you’re left out in the cold.”

You look behind you again, and Gilbert is leaning against the cabin. “I’m sure I’ll be fine,” you say. “How long have you been behind me? Aren’t you cold?”

He scoffs. “Please, this is nothing.” He pushes himself off the wall and saunters over, flopping down on the other side of you.

You look at him suspiciously. “What do you want?”

“I want a lot of things, Schatz, but right now I want you to stop avoiding me.”

You take your eyes off him and stare straight ahead into the forest. You’ve been dreading this conversation.

“I know you’re thinking of what I did back at the village. About those men I killed for you” Gilbert says, his eyes focused elsewhere. Your stomach tightens and you swallow the lump that’s formed in your throat. Those men I killed for you.

“I don’t feel sympathy for them,” you say through the thickness that coats your throat. “They were going to trap me here. If you hadn’t killed them, I’d be stuck here but…”

“But you aren’t used to violence,”  he says. Gilbert shifts in his spot, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees. “I am used to it.” He admits. You watch as the last rays of daylight catch on the hair that brushes his forehead.

“I grew up with it.” He says. “This forest is unpredictable. I learned to fight so that I could survive here. When I was young, I hunted monsters, and when I got older I hunted down the enemies of my home. I was infamous.” He says, looking into the darkening forest ahead.

“There wasn’t a part of my life when someone wasn’t trying to kill me. I’m used to it. You haven’t lived the life that I have. I expected you to be distraught,” he turns to look at you. “But I won’t apologize.” His face is hard-set and he’s looking at you like he’s staring into your soul. “I wasn’t going to let them take you. I need you.”

You pause in your thoughts, thinking about what he said.

“What do you mean?”

“You gave me the power to get out of the prison and right now, you’re the only reason Arthur can’t snap me back in.” He says. “You’re my curse breaker.”

“That’s why Arthur wanted me killed.”

“Oh little one, he still wants to kill you,” he smirks. You feel yourself blanching and he laughs.

“I’m teasing! I’m not gonna let that happen.”

“That’s really not much of a comfort.” You huff. You slump forward and Aster, who’s stayed out with you this whole time, licks at your hands.

“You really like dogs, don’t you?”

“Well, ya. you'reI have one.” Gilbert looks confused.

“You never told me that.”

“You never asked,” you shoot back.

“Huh,” he says. “What’s their name?”

“Hypatia.”

“Fancy name for a dog.” Gilbert remarks.

“She’s named after Hypatia of Alexandria, a human philosopher and astronomer,” you say. “What about you? You have a hawk that we have to find. What’s its name?”

“His name was Gilbird.” He says, completely straight faced. You look at him, eyebrows raised and expecting him to laugh and tell you he’s kidding. He doesn’t.

“You had a pet hawk, and you named it something as stupid as ‘Gil-bird’?” you ask.

“Hey!” Gilbert says. “I thought it was a good idea at the time! And what would you have called him?”

“I wouldn’t have named him after myself!”

“Oh, for Ancients’ sake! Never mind what I called my bird!” Gilbert groans. You roll your eyes. The humour in you fades away soon after and you're back to mindlessly staring at the dark woods in front of you.

“I’m being serious, you know.”

You look at him with your eyebrows raised. “About what?”

“About not letting anything happen to you.”

“I’m having a hard time believing you. Last time you said that I was nearly killed,” you admit. The bruise at the back of your head flares up. “What I mean is… well, you can’t promise me that.”

“Yes, I can. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you,” Gilbert says as he leans off to the side. He pulls out something and hands it to you.

It’s a dagger. The steel blade is only eight inches and you guess that it’s meant more for high class combat than utilitarian use from the craftsmanship. You look at Gilbert for an explanation.

“This is for you,” he says stiffly. Now you are more confused. “You’re scared that something might happen that I can’t stop, and you’re right. So know that if anything happens and I can’t get to you in time, you’ll have something to help yourself.”

You look at Gilbert as he offers the dagger to you. It shines in the dim light that’s settled over the two of you, floating in the space between.

“It’s impossible for me to lie,” he says. “So you have to understand that when a fae makes a promise, we keep it. I promise you that nothing is going to happen to you on my watch, but in return, you need to promise me that you’ll try to trust me,”

Unlike fae, humans can lie. They do it all the time. You are no exception, but when you say, “I trust you,” you think that you might start to mean it.

Babe, there’s something broken about this,

I might be hoping about this

Author’s Notes

Here we go! Finally the plot is actually starting and our main characters’ goals have aligned! This was a really cool chapter to write. I hope everyones having fun this summer! Where I am, its so ridiculously hot.

Stay cool, drink water, and have a great day,

Scribe

Quotes (in order)

Quote from https://promptuarium.wordpress.com/2018/04/29/little-wolf/

Farewell Wanderlust by The Amazing Devil

White Blank Page by Mumford and Sons

Dear Wormwood by The Oh Hellos

Dear Wormwood by The Oh Hellos

From Eden by Hozier

[alilbitofdoodles]

Helping what Ales you

Paring: TC Meliodas x Goddess Elizabeth Word Count : 1.5K Warnings : Use of Alcohol, Language, Meliodas being in denial about how much he loves Elizabeth, and lots of fluff. Summary: Amusing, he thinks and he’s overcome with the sudden urge of defiling her purity. A demon luring a goddess into inebriation. The thought was fun and he knew it’d be quite the sight; his uptight little goddess would be red-faced and fumbling all over herself. Ao3 Link: 📖

It was chaotic to say the least. The sort of chaos that came with unrelenting fun and celebration. The tavern was erupting with hollers and cheers and almost every patron sported a puffy red face and wide toothed smile. Humans were a pathetic race, but they boasted of brewing up a delicious ale sweeter and more intoxicating than anything ever created. 

The amber liquid thickly trails down his tongue and coats Meliodas’ mouth with a slight burning sensation as he swallows. He slams his stein onto the worn-down wooden table – the damn thing had given him splinters – and bitterly wonders how they managed to call this an ale.

He was on his twentieth round and yet the man hungered for more. It was pitiful, really, calling this watered down tea of fermented gruit an alcohol. But still, he effortlessly chugs it down without much interest. He was utterly disappointed (a common feeling he’s begun to notice much too often).

“Ah, this is where you’ve been hiding.” a gentle voice disrupts his thoughts.

He takes a pause as to not immediately gag at the sight. It was that annoying goddess. She’d been tailing him since their last meeting and it was beginning to grate on his nerves. Maybe he shouldn’t have spared her life. She’s like a lost kitten constantly nipping at his heels for attention. “Get lost, little goddess.”

She only smiles, radiant and pure, in response to his aggression and it only infuriates him more. “What a lovely nickname. I would prefer it if you called me Elizabeth, but Little Goddess is wonderful as well.” 

Elizabeth pulls up a chair next to him and watches him with curious eyes. “What is that you’re drinking?”

Meliodas snorts, “What? Alcohol? You don’t have this in your wretched realm?”

She tilts her head, her silvery hair spilling over her shoulders, and Meliodas tries not to stare too hard. The sight of her porcelain, unblemished skin was quite a tempting sight. Maybe the alcohol was affecting him more than he’d thought.

“I know of it.” She clarifies, “But our people always referred to it as poison. Why would anyone ever willingly ingest it?”

Amusing, he thinks and he’s overcome with the sudden urge of defiling her purity. A demon luring a goddess into inebriation. The thought was fun and he knew it’d be quite the sight; his uptight little goddess would be red-faced and fumbling all over herself. 

“Drink it and find out why.” Meliodas shoves the wooden cup to her face, hovering the rim before her mouth, and Elizabeth purses her lips. 

“Um…” her blue eyes glance to the side.

“Afraid of a human drink, little goddess?” He teases and his smirk only grows wider.

A light blush dusts her cheeks and Elizabeth fidgets in her seat. “Not that but...wouldn’t this be an, uhm, i-indirect kiss?”

“Of course not!” Meliodas sputters, “Dammit, just drink!” The heat he feels on his cheeks is unrelenting, but he refuses to acknowledge it. He growls, motioning to the cup once more. If he backed off now it’ll only make him seem like a coward.

“Ah...thank you, I shall partake...” Elizabeth whispers, then takes the cup from his hands. 

When their fingertips met, he could almost feel her heat through his gloves. Instinctively he pulls his hand back as if he were nearly burned by flames. That brief contact had intoxicated more than the alcohol itself. He needed to keep his guard up around this one.

Elizabeth takes a meek sip and he watches closely. The thought of an indirect kiss crosses his mind one more before he drives it away. “So? Still think it’s poison?”

“Ngh…” Her little tongue peeks out from between two plump lips and Meliodas licks his own rough, chapped ones. “It’s a little bitter than what I’m used to, but it certainly has its own appeal.”

A wicked smile returns to his face as his mind begins to concoct a devious plan. “Say, Little Goddess, care to make a wager?”

“What for?” She asks pointedly.

“Relax, it’s all in good fun.” he began, almost carefully. “We’ll just see who can drink the most.”

“Mmm.” she agreed softly, “Wager implies a winner and loser, though. What’s at stake?” Ah, always a smart one. Meliodas found he didn’t desist that side of her. It was one of her more admirable qualities. She always appeared so quiet and benevolent, but deep down he knew her to be quite analytical. 

“Simple, you win and I finally address you with your name. If I win, however, “ he pauses for suspense and watches her reaction (that intense look in her eyes whenever she was serious always gave him shivers). “You leave me alone. Once and for all.”

“Meliodas,” Elizabeth sweetly called, egging him on, “Don’t you think you’re being a little too confident?”

He suppresses the urge to belt out in a hearty roar of laughter. His little goddess thinking she can outdrink him? She never ceases to amuse him. “I have confidence with the skill to back it up. Try not to bore me.”

Before he can gloat any further, his green eyes widened and he’s taken back by surprise. Meliodas’ breathing hitches when he sees her swallowing up the cup of ale in large, languid gulps. A small stream begins to run down her chin and holy shit she’s holding her liquor down like a pro and it’s honestly fucking hot.

But a man never backs down from a challenge so he rips his gaze from her captivating form and begins drinking to his heart’s content.

---

Meliodas had emptied his 2,512th cup of alcohol — at some point they had to offer them wine since the tavern was running out of spirits. He hastily wipes his mouth with a grunt. Certainly that goddess wasn’t used to drinking, but he had underestimated her ability. She had matched him drink for drink, barrel for barrel, and they were bound to drink this establishment dry at this rate.

A part of him was infuriated at his misjudgment, but there was also a stronger part, welling up like a warmth in his chest, that held a certain special respect for her. He’s getting dangerously close to his limit and so he stealthy glances at her to see if she’s the same.

“Get Well.” A small halo of light glitters from her fingertips and it’s as if any trace of drunkenness on her was gone.

The revelation hangs heavy in the air. Shit. He’d nearly forgotten that absurd ark power of theirs could cure almost everything. At this rate she’s sure to overtake him.

Meliodas jolts alive and begins haphazardly chugging once more. Dread immediately seeps into his bones as he realizes just how much he fucked up. What concerned him the most, though, was how serious she was taking this little competition of theirs. Was she so determined to beat him that she’d resort to using her magical energy? It’s obvious to him that she was serious about this and the reason why she would be pricked at him uncomfortably like a splinter. 

Did she want to be called Elizabeth that badly? Or was there some other reason she had in mind...

Meliodas threw more gold coins at the table demanding more drinks. He wasn’t going to bother himself with the small details. This was a battle and he was going to win, just as he always has.

“Don’t overdo it, Meliodas.” She chided placidly and her sobriety pissed him off.

He grits his teeth. “I can still – ugh – g-go on!” He snaps back, but inwardly cringes at the slur of his words. He’s actually getting drunk for once and he feels like an utter fool.

“Meliodas, please.” She pleads and sets down her drink. Then carefully, as to not scare him in his drunken stupor, Elizabeth takes his head in both her hands and presses him into her bosom.

“Dammit, what the fuck are you doing?” he huffed under his breath, limbs too wobbly to put up much of a fight. Before he could protest more, he feels her fingers smoothing down his hair in calming stokes and immediately he melts into her hold. Her hands had no right feeling that wonderful. Long nails gently massage at his scalp and he nearly groans at the sensual feeling. Maybe she was casting a healing spell of sorts? He couldn’t sense her magical energy, but he couldn’t fathom what other reason there could be. 

Regardless, he could feel the stress and tension leaving his body and in turn becoming more soothed and relaxed. As odd as it was, he had begun to enjoy the affection. Meliodas closes his eyes and leans into the warmth of her body. It’s softness had been calling out to him ever since he first laid eyes on her. He hates to admit it, but Elizabeth’s presence had really grown on him. Like sailors to the north star or a moth to a flame, he’d always subconsciously seek her out. And now, only in his honest and inebriated state, does he understand why.

Just this once, Meliodas thinks, I’ll let Elizabeth have her way.

[aspergerasparagus]

Just My Type

Sniper Mask is on lookout before he finds another group of survivors and one of them catches his eye. More so then he would like to admit.

The sun hung low in the sky causing the shadows of the high rises to stretch out before him as Sniper Mask let his eyes slowly roam over the other building tops that surrounded him in every direction. He had offered to take lookout as the girls prepared dinner from some supplies they had managed to scavenge from what must have been a restaurant in the real world. Letting out a long sigh he fished around in his jacket pocket for the cigarette packet he always kept there before slipping one out and bringing it to his lips.

He had just brought the lighter up when a noise suddenly caught his attention. Quickly snapping the lighter closed he brought his rifle up, training the scope on the source of the noise. Footsteps, multiple pairs, and voices, all coming from the exit of one of the lower high rises to the north of him. It seemed they were intending to use the bridge there to cross to the building they had found the supplies in earlier that day.

Scowling slightly the gunman kept his scope centered on the noises location before a child’s voice broke through the early evening calm. A small noise of surprise escaped him as he brought the child into focus, before suddenly shifting to another child that followed quickly to join the previous one. They were not only dressed identically but looked identical and didn’t appear to be more than 7 at most. Obviously twins it seemed. Cursing softly at what type of monster would drop children this old into the world like this he was suddenly pulled from his thoughts by a man’s voice.

Looking towards the voice he felt his body suddenly tense, the forgotten cigarette in his mouth slipping to the ground as he couldn’t stop the small gasp that slipped out of him. An older man, later 30s, early 40s, with a few greying steaks scattered through his auburn hair had joined the girls who eagerly rushed to him, taking his hands as he scolded them for running ahead again. He was dressed in a fine dark blue waistcoat and dress pants, a harness crossing over his broad chest with what appeared to be two pistols situated in the holsters of it. The outfit looked expensive and custom made given how well it fit him and accentuated his figure.

Sniper Mask watched them carefully cross the bridge together, never taking his scope off them the entire time. The older man continued to hold the girls hand the whole way and reassured them they would be okay and would rest soon. It didn’t take more than a couple of minutes before they reached the other side and soon disappeared from view, their voices becoming more distant before they were finally gone.

Letting out a shaky breath he hadn’t even realised he had been holding, Sniper Mask quickly reached for his cigarettes, immediately lighting one up and taking a long drag from it. His heart was jack hammering away in his chest still, it had been since he had laid eyes on the man and he couldn’t get the damn thing to settle down. The fact he couldn’t get the man’s face and body out of his mind certainly wasn’t helping him right now either.

Groaning slightly he watched the smoke from his cigarette curl and disappear into the cooling evening’s air. What the hell was wrong with him?! Why did that guy have such an effect on him? Was he maybe someone closer to god? And it was just a reaction to him being an angel. He knew that wasn’t the reason deep down however. He knew why he was reacting like this. More accurately he knew why his body was reacting like this all of a sudden.

The man had been exactly his type. He was the type of man he had fantasised about being with since he realised he wasn’t exclusively interested in women. Handsome, well dressed, well groomed. All the things that had attracted him to men to begin with. Cursing he buried his masked face into his hands. He could already feel his ears beginning to heat up and probably turning pink as he blushed even harder behind his mask. Shit he had a crush.

After a few more cigarettes, more than he normally would smoke in such a small span of time, he finally decided it was best to just turn in for the night. As he wandered back to his room the girls obviously began to worry about him as he brushed them off saying he wasn’t hungry and they should eat without him. They, of course, all rushed him, Kuon taking the lead as she began to fuss over him asking if Mr Mask was feeling unwell. Had the cigarettes caught up with him finally? Even Yuri, who still seemed to freak out whenever he accidentally creeped up on her, was joining in on the interrogation. Muttering an apology he darted out the room and slammed the door to his own room when he finally reached it.

Catching his breath he slid down his door once he had locked it. Listening he could hear them speaking in worried tones, running over what might be wrong with him. Another bug in his mask coding, maybe he was tired or maybe he had eaten something bad. He’d have to apologise to them tomorrow, probably get another scolding from Kuon for it but it was better than them realising the truth. For once he was thankful for the mask. He really didn’t need them questioning why he was blushing and looking more and more like a tomato right now.

Hanging his head he sighed and mentally kicked himself. All he did was glance at a guy and now he was like this. A complete mess. Maybe he had stronger interests in men then he realised… Shaking his head to dispel the thought he kicked his shoes off as he made his way over to the bed, discarding his jacket onto the nearby chair as he went. Maybe if he just slept it off he’d be okay in the morning. Push this little infatuation somewhere deep down into his brain so he didn’t have to think about it any more.

Placing his hat onto the bedside dresser he slipped under the covers and tried to drift off. He just needed to get some rest and then he’d be as right as rain tomorrow. Go about his day and forget this ever happened. Letting a man distract him wasn’t going to help anyone and could easily get himself or worse someone else killed. Letting his eyes close he tried to not think about the man. He swore he really did try.

He didn’t know how much time had passed before he heard his door creak open slowly, followed by the sound of soft footsteps approaching the other side of his bed. Eyes snapping open Sniper Mask snatched at the rifle that still lay beside the bed and twisted to take aim at the intruder but he felt his heart jump into his throat. The man from before stood there, just as handsome as ever. Opening his mouth to yell at him to explain who he was, Sniper Mask found his voice catching as the stranger simply raised a finger to his lips, silencing him as a devious smile crept onto his lips. Carefully he pushed the barrel of the gun away and slipped onto the bed next to the gunman, Sniper Mask doing nothing to stop him at all. Before he could find his voice again he felt a soft pair of lips against his neck, softly teasing the skin there and he immediately gave in.

The gun slipped from his hands as he brought the other man closer to his yearning body. He didn’t give a damn about why this was happening or frankly how it was. All he knew was that his fantasy man was here and giving him exactly what he wanted more than anything in that moment. Why overthink the details?

Groaning he let his hands quickly begin to explore the other man’s body, pawing at whatever he could grab at it. Sniper could feel the man’s firm muscles flex under the soft satin of his waistcoat as he shifted to nip and suck on his collar, body pushing up even closer to his own so he could feel the obvious bulge that was protruding from his trousers. Sniper could feel himself losing control as they continued to grope and kiss and it didn’t take longer before he flipped them over so he could rock himself against his intruder.

This was playing out exactly like his fantasies, hell it was better than what he could imagine. As he dug his fingers into the man’s hips as he grinded against him, he was greeted with a chorus of pathetic moans and soft pleadings for more. Oh that was working him up like nothing else ever had. He could feel his own cock twitching desperately in his pants as he worked the man up into a frenzy. Neither of them were fussed about keeping their voices down now, and Sniper really didn’t want them to. Knowing he was causing the man such pleasure was a turn on like nothing else.

Letting out a choked moan of his own, Sniper picked up his pace, his hips slamming against the other man’s as he realised he was getting close. He did risk a peak down at the other man and had to bite his lips to try and stop himself finishing right there at the sight that greeted him. Their face was flushed and streaked with sweat as his once perfectly styled hair now lay dishevelled, mouth open wide as he continued to cry out for more as his eyes fluttering closed as he lost himself to ecstasy. It really was a beautiful sight and one that was sure to inhabit any fantasies Sniper had from that point.

Burying his face against the man’s neck, Sniper let go of any remaining control he had and wrapped his arms around the man as he finally climaxed. He came harder than he thought he could and it left him breathless and unable to think for a moment as they both rode out their orgasms together. Bodies twitching and continuing to hump against one another as they tried to ride out their highs for as long as they could. Finally he collapsed, completely exhausted, but satisfied. He let his eyes flutter close for a moment as he savored the post orgasm bliss.

When he finally opened his eyes again he was met with the ceiling of his room, daylight streaming in through the windows across from him. Groggily he scanned his room, his brain still half asleep as he tried to process what had happened and where his late night intruder had gone. Finally after a minute it dawned on him and he let out a low groan. A dream. He had dreamt it all up. Slapping himself he shifted slightly to look at the clock beside him only to grimace as he felt a familiar sticky, wetness in his pants and peaked under the sheets before letting them fall down as he cursed out loud. Of course it had to have turned into a wet dream, and of course he had to have climaxed during his sleep. Burying his face against the pillows he reprimanded himself for having had a wet dream at his age, and worse over a man he had literally only seen once. This was humiliating…

One long, hot shower later, a change of clothes and him sneakily throwing his soiled suit into the washer, Sniper finally headed down to the kitchen area. He could already make out the sound of the girls clattering about with plates and seemingly starting their day off. As he listened he suddenly caught the sound of another voice. A much younger female’s one that chipped in excitedly when Yuri offered them some eggs. Picking up his pace he quickly rounded the corner.

He was immediately met with two little girls slamming into his legs and bouncing off him as they both stumbled back.

“H-hey easier there kid.”

At the sound of his voice their heads shot up to look at him and he felt his stomach plummet. It was the twins from yesterday. The two he had seen on the bridge during his watch, which meant… Unable to speak he watched as the girls immediately turned on their heels and scampered away from him. One ran over to Yuri and buried her face against her skirt while the other darted off to the table yelling for her Uncle.

Swallowing hard, Sniper let his gaze drift upwards before he landed on the other man who sat at the table. He hadn’t realised he was there given it seemed he hadn’t been talking before. Sniper felt his face beginning to burn again as his hands began to shake slightly as the man turned to look at him. It was the man from yesterday. The man who had visited him in his wet dream last night. The damn man he had become so infatuated with all of the sudden.

Scooping up the kid, the man approached him, a soft smile on his face that just made Sniper’s heart beat even faster. His mind was going blank as the man finally walked up to him and stood barely a foot away from him. Fuck was he even better looking then what he had dreamt up last! Sniper barely had time to register the man extending his hand towards him in greeting.

“I apologise about the girls, I’ve been teaching them to run if they ever see a Mask. I-I mean like a dangerous Mask of course! I’m sure they’ll warm up to you soon. My name’s Christopher anyway, and these two are my nieces Akane and Aoi, sorry to get off on the wrong foot there.”

After a moment's hesitation, Sniper tipped his hat to the man and reached out to firmly grasp his hand giving it a shake.

“The name’s Sniper Mask. It’s a pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Christopher.”

Another even warmer grin greeted him for that, he could have even sworn he saw the other man's cheeks flush slightly before he went back to the twins who were firing a million questions at him over the new nice mask. Sniper himself could only glance down at his hand before letting a grin spread over his own cheeks. Fucking nailed it Sniper.

[kpop---scenarios]

Obsession

Demon! Stripper! Kai x Reader 

Warning: Smut 

Requested by: @ninibears-erigom​

Moodboard by: @lovely-kpopp-blog​

Word Count: 8.6k 

A/N: I hope you enjoy!!! 

All your life you had been told to stay away from the Southside of your city. You were taught from an early age that the Demon’s who lived over there were monsters, as you could have already guessed. Your mother warned you time and time again that your soul would be stripped from inside you, taken by the monsters and given to the devil, who would then have a claim on your life. He would be able to force you to do whatever he asked of you, even if you tried to fight it. She instilled so much fear into you that you never went close enough to even see that side of the city. You always remained in the protection of the north side, the side of the humans. It wasn’t to say that you were never curious about the Southside though. Whenever you heard your friends talk about it, it peaked your curiosity but you had never been brave enough to defy your mother and end up in more trouble than you’d be able to handle. Through out the years your eagerness to see for yourself what it was truly like. If your mother had made up some sort of fictional concoction of a story to keep your far away, if your friends were in fact correct about it being a fun place to go. It wasn’t until one of your coworkers and friend, Angie had asked you if you wanted to go to her birthday party on Saturday. You had spent most of your time working too much, never allowing yourself to take a break to have any type of fun, so you immediately agreed. You had made the mistake of not asking where it was going to be held. Once Saturday rolled around, you were told to be ready for 9pm, that the party bus would be stopping by your place to pick you up. You took extra time that evening to do your makeup, giving yourself a smoky eye with red lips. You slipped on your little black dress, pairing it with a pair of red heels. Your hair down, curled almost to perfection. You were excited. At 9pm on the dot, you hear a few honks from outside. Quickly you grab your purse and your phone before heading out to be greeting by Angie and a few of your close friends. “Let’s go!” Angie yelled with a glass of champagne in one hand and a shot of something in the other. Your friends pass you shot after shot, trying to get you up to their level of drunk. It doesn’t take much for you, considering it had been months since you last drank heavily. You were far too preoccupied with drinking, dancing and laughing to notice where the bus was headed. It wasn’t until it had stopped and opened its doors that you realized you didn’t recognize the part of town you were in. “Where are we?” you laugh, getting out of your seat. “Southside at a strip club called Obsession.” Lisa smiles. “Southside?” you whisper, feeling a little panicked. “I know you’ve never been, and your mom told you some God-awful lies about it but trust me, you’re going to be fine. This club..” Angie pauses taking a deep breath while fanning herself. “Has the sexiest men I’ve ever seen" she huffs, making a lustful face. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll be with you the whole time" your other friend Jennie smiles. Taking a deep breath you nod your head, linking arms with your friends before walking into the club. The first thing you notice is the amount of smoke lingering in the room. Definitely wasn’t cigarette smoke, but from a smoke machine. The red lights didn’t do much to help the darkness, the music was over powering, you could feel the bass vibrate through your body as you walked further in. But somehow you felt.. at peace, calm and excited. Your nerves vanished the moment you walked in and was replaced with excitement. Looking over to your left, you see a crowd of women fawning over the dancer who was clearly enjoying the abundance of attention he was receiving. “That’s Suho" Jennie whispered in your ear. “He’s a very popular dancer.” You could definitely see why, his red hair stood out significantly, his muscular arms and abs were a sight for sore eyes. Moving along you come across a few more dancers on side stages like Suho, all of them with swarms of women desperately trying to get the men to notice them. “Chanyeol and Baekhyun and Yixing” Jennie tells you. “They’re very popular as well, along with Chen and Sehun over there" she says, pointing to two more overly attractive and muscular men on the other side of the room, all with the same amount of women surrounding their stages. “Why have you never brought me here before?” you question, even though you were pretty sure you already knew the answer. “You know why" Lisa chimes in, giving you a look. The four of you manage to get front row seats at the main stage, which was currently empty at the moment. “Whose stage is this?” you ask, placing your bag at your feet, and taking off your jacket. “His name is Kai.” Angie says. “He is the most popular one here. His moves are.. well they’re the work of the devil, I’m sure. He’s sinful, a delicious tease, the most seductive man.” “Avoid making eye contact unless you’re prepared to be wrapped around his finger” Lisa laughs. From behind you, a man clears his throat. “Hello ladies, my name is Minseok, can I get you beauties anything to drink?” he asks with a devilish smile. Why and how were all the men who worked here literally the most perfect men you had ever seen. They looked and acted exactly like humans, minus the obvious almost black eyes they all had. “Four rounds of tequila shots" Angie yells over the music with a big smile. Minseok chuckles slightly before nodding his head, and heading over to the bar. “I so want to fuck him" Lisa groans, watching him walk away while biting her lip. If you were being honest, you’d probably fuck anyone of them. That was, until Kai came out, and then your eyes couldn’t leave him as much as you tried. “Ladies, ladies, I hope you’re all ready for the main show tonight" the announcer says over the speaker. As soon as the first words left his mouth every single woman who had been previous melting over the other men, were now surrounded at the main stage, eagerly waiting the one everyone was obsessed with. “Welcome to the stage, Kai" he yells. You can barely hear the music over the loud shrieks of women behind you. Though, it quiets down awfully quick when the lights suddenly shut off, leaving you all in the darkness. As the music begins to get louder, a single spot light shines in the middle of the stage, you look right at the light, as you slowly see a man emerge from the darkness. The moment he enters the light, your jaw drops. This man, was the most handsome man you had ever seen in your entire life. Your heart raced as you walked him smile a sincere smile, and then like the flip of a switch turn into this incredibly sexy monster. The way his hips moved, his slow thrusts into the air, the devious smile that crossed his lips, everything about him hypnotized you, especially the blue hair that stood out on him. Kai takes a small running start, before getting on his knees, sliding towards the front of the stage. Directly in front of you. For a moment his eyes connect with yours, a smile creeping across his face as he stares at you. He sneakily winks at you before moving on to pay attention to other women. Your heart beats even faster, you find it hard as you try to catch your breath. “Now for the first time ever, one lucky woman will be brought on stage for a special dance. Who should it be?” the man over the P.A system announces. Everyone screams, begging for him to choose them. But you, you just sit there, still concentrated on Kai as you watch him smiling at everyone, while he tries to pick a special lady. He stands in front of you, a smirk on his face as he walks down the stares to stand directly in front of you, his hand extended. You slowly raise your head, your eyes meeting with his for a second time tonight. You feel a lump in your throat as you gently place your hand in his, everything else surrounding you is tuned out. It’s just you and him, up on the stage. “I’ve never seen you here before.” He whispers in your ear as he sits you down before straddling you. “My first time” you whisper back, nervously. “My friends brought me" “Well I am certainly glad they did" he smirks, beginning to grind himself on you. You feel almost paralyzed as Kai dances on you. You can hear your friends loudly rooting for you, and the other woman praising him. You’re still unsure of what to do with yourself, having this be your very first lap dance, you didn’t think you could touch him, although you wanted too badly. Your time passes in a blur. Kai steps away from you, offering you his hand again to pull you up, helping you down the stairs and back to your friends. You didn’t know what this feeling was that took over you, but you already wanted to see him again. As the night came to an end, you didn’t want to go home. You didn’t want to leave this club, you wanted to talk to him, to touch him. Your friends had to practically drag you out and back to the bus. That night as you laid in your bed, you swore you could still feel the lingering touches of his finger tips. You could feel his bulge grinding against you, leaving you yearning for more. You dreamt of the all the things you would do to him if you ever had the chance. The nasty things you never thought you’d be into came into play in your dreams. Waking up the next morning, you made a conscious decision to go back to the Southside. You mainly wanted to explore the forbidden side of town that you always wondered about, but a huge part of you desperately wanted to find Kai again. You didn’t know if he would even be interested in you but in this moment you didn’t care. You had no reservations about your plans, so you hopped out of bed and began getting yourself ready. An hour later, you’re exiting your taxi, that refused to cross the boarder to the other side of town, claiming he needed to keep his soul to enter heaven. You’d gladly give yours up if it meant you got to meet Kai again. Slowly, you walk down the sidewalks, admiring the large amount of stores, restaurants and coffee shops. You didn’t understand what your mother thought was so terrifying about this place. It was almost exactly like the North side, buy the people were just a little different.. and not human but you didn’t mind. You walked for a few hours before stumbling upon a small hole in the wall type coffee shop. With a smile on your face you walk in and up to the counter to order an iced coffee. You sat down at a table, admiring the small shop when you heard a few men a few tables away from you, murmur about a human in the shop. The nerves that you didn’t have before crept up into your stomach, making you want to leave as quickly as possible. As you impatiently waited for your coffee, you could hear them talk about how they wanted you, some of the things they would do to you if they had a chance to get their hands on you. You quickly stood up from your table, just as your coffee was set down in front of you. You mumbled a quick thank you before grabbing it and heading for the door. Peaking behind your shoulder, you see the men stand up and begin walking to the door the same time as you, their sights clearly set on you. You never should have done this. Clearly humans weren’t always welcome into every place on this side. Exiting the building, you quicken your pace down the sidewalk, the men’s foot steps behind you becoming louder as they keep up with your pace. You turn the first corner you find, now running to try and get out of their sight. You begin to pass by and alley, when a hand reaches out for you, pulling you in before softly slamming you against the brick building. Your eyes are closed, you’re terrified of what’s going to happen. The persons hand covers you mouth, not allowing you to scream, their body pressed against yours. “Don’t make a sound” the man whispers in your ear. Something about his voice is so familiar to you, it’s dark but calming, husky but smooth. You slightly peak one eye open, and are surprised yet relieved to see Kai is the one pressing his muscular body against you. The two of you stand still for a few moments, hearing the men shout, trying to find you. They pass by the alley without a look and continue on with their search. Kai releases you from his hold, stepping back from you. “I thought Demon’s were supposed to be good trackers or something” you said, a little confused. You had always been told that they would always find you if you tried to escape from them. Kai lets out a small chuckle. “That’s the first thing you say?” he questions. “but most of us are excellent trackers, like me and then some.. are not, like them” he explains. “Were you tracking me?” you ask, knowing it was probably a long shot but you felt the need to ask anyways. “I was.” He admits. “I almost crossed the boarder to the North side" he smiles. “Why?” you question. “Why did you want to find me?” “The same reason you came here to find me. You felt the pull, didn’t you?” he asks, stepping closer to you. “You wanted more from me last night, just like I wanted to strip you down and fuck you right on that stage. I almost wish I would have too" he whispers in your ear, tucking a strand of hair behind you ear. “I..” you begin but stop, not sure how to respond. “What do you want?” he asks. “Do you want me to fuck you?” Before your brain can even process what he was saying to you, your mouth had already answered. “Yes" you huff. Kai steps back from you again, putting a good amount of distance between you, which you didn’t like. “Come find me at the club tonight, around 1am.” He smiles before beginning to walk away. Before he gets too far he turns around to look at you one last time. “But this time, try not to get yourself in trouble” he winks before practically disappearing. Taking a deep breath, you quickly find your way back to the boarder and back to your side of town. You head home, ready to take a long ass nap after the eventful day you just had. As you crawl into bed, your phone rings before you can close your eyes. You groan as you see it’s your mother calling. You did not want to deal with any of her shit today, although you did kind of want to tell her that you crossed the boarder, but she might actually try to drag you back to your childhood home, despite you being in your late twenties. “Hello, mother” you sigh into your phone. “Where have you been? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all afternoon" she yells. “I went out for a bit and forgot my phone. Sorry" you yawn. “You stayed on our side right? You know what will happen if you cross that boarder.” She says, her voice harsh. “Good lord mother, I’m old enough to make my own decisions. And for your information, I did cross the border to explore, and you know what? Nothing happened to me. I still have my soul.” You told her. The line was silent for a few second before the line went dead. She was so dramatic. Tossing your phone down, you rolled over, closing your eyes and quickly falling into a deep sleep, dreaming about Kai, again. ** At 12:30am, you made your way back to the border, hoping to maybe catch Kai's last dance of the night before the two of you went off to do whatever he had planned. Walking into the club, you felt the same sense of calmness you did on the first night you were there. Without any hesitation you made your way to the main stage where Kai was already dancing. Luckily for you, you managed to snag the a vacant front row seat, unnoticed by the other women who were too busy watching him slowly take his clothes off. You had to remind yourself more than once to close your mouth, not wanting to end up drooling everywhere. As the show came to an end, Kai was left in what you could only describe as a small speedo, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. You could tell he had a hard cock, and you couldn’t wait for him to stretch you out. Before he walks off stage he motions to you to head back stage to meet him. You can’t get rid of the smile across your face as you leave the crowd of disappointed women behind you to follow the sex god. When he asked you if you wanted to go over to his house, you should have said no. You didn’t even know this man, but somehow you felt like you could trust him. Ever since the dance he gave you, you couldn’t stop thinking about him, it was almost as though you were addicted. The two of you walked out the back door of the club to Kai's car. He opened the passenger side door for you, allowing you to slide in, twiddling your thumbs as you wait for him to get into the drivers seat. Kai turns on the radio as he pulls out of the back parking lot, heading towards his house. “You seem nervous" he says with a smile, turning his head to look at you. “I don’t know. I don’t feel nervous, though I know I should be.” You reply with a shrug of your shoulders. “Why? Why should you feel nervous?” he asks. “Because I don’t know you at all. I know nothing about you, yet I find myself wanting to be around you, close to you. It’s like I crave it.” You explain. “That would be my fault.” He chuckles. “What do you mean?” you ask. “I have the ability, when I decide to use it, to make someone become addicted to me, in sense.” He smiles. “Well that would explain why I couldn’t stop thinking about you" you whisper. “However. There’s something about you, y/n. Something about you that makes me crave you. Ever since I laid my eyes on you, I wanted you. No needed you. You’re like a drug, and I’m already hooked.” He smirks. Jongin stops his car in front of a lavish looking apartment building. The two of you walk in, you trailing a little behind Kai as you both step into the elevator. He presses the penthouse button causing the elevator to jerk and begin moving up. Kai stands close to you, his finger tracing the inside of your palm. The elevator dings and Kai grabs your hand, pulling you into his large place. He stands in front of you, staring at you. You’re unable to break away from his piercing gaze. Your breath hitches as he leans in closer to you, his plump lips almost touching yours. “If you don’t want this, tell me now, otherwise I don’t think I’ll be able to stop after" he whispers, eagerly waiting for your response. “Yes I want this" you breathe, closing the gap between the two of you by placing your lips on his. Kai deepens the kiss, pulling your body into his, keeping his hands on your hips. You wrap your arm around his neck, keeping yourself balanced as you melt into his kiss. He traces your lips with his tounge, wanting to be able to enter. You slightly part your lips, allowing him to slip his tounge in. His hands travel down your hips as he bends his body slightly, placing his hands behind your knees. He pulls on the a little, signaling you that he wants you to jump up. You jump, wrapping your legs around his waist, the kiss never breaking. He walks towards what you can only assume is the bedroom. Within a second, you’re thrown onto his bed, he stands beside the bed with a smirk on his face as he watches you attempt to catch your breath. He takes a step forward, pulling his shirt over his head, exposing his set of rock hard abs. You licked your lips at the sight of him, the oh so delicious sight. You wanted so badly for him to take off his pants and whatever underwear he was wearing underneath. You needed to see his cock, you wanted to put it in your mouth, sucking until he came and it slid down your throat. Without even realizing it, you had sat up, and began discarding your clothes which was the reason Kai had stopped. He was watching you slip your shirt over your head, revealing the red lace bra you hid underneath. He groaned as you stood up, unbuttoning your pants to reveal a matching set of red lace panties. Kai wanted so badly to slam you down on the bed and rip off your lingerie set, shredding it from your body. He wanted to taste you on his tounge, have you squirm beneath him as he makes you cum over and over. He wanted ram his cock inside you, feel yourself tighten around him, screaming out his name. But he couldn’t, at least not yet. He wasn’t sure of what you were into and he didn’t want to end up scaring you off with his rough fucking. So instead, he climbed in the bed, pulling you down and laying you flat on your back. He hovered himself over you, placing small kisses along your neck, collarbone, and moving down towards your breasts. “I’m going to rip your bra and panties off of you, okay baby?” he whispers. You can only nod your head as your body tingles everywhere with the need for him to give you more. In one swift motion your breasts were free of your bra, your nipples perky due to the bit of draft in his room. “Mhmm" he groans, tilting his head to the side before lowering it, placing his lips around one of your nipples and sucking. He opens his mouth to graze it with his teeth, while simultaneously rolling your other nipple between two fingers. You throw your head back in pleasure, your pussy aching to be touched by him. “Please” you cry out, needing him to move further down your body. He looks at you waiting for you to continue. “I need more” you whine. “Tell me what you want” he says. “I want your mouth" you pant. “My mouth where?” he smirks. “Down here?” he asks, moving down your body. “You want my mouth sucking on your clit?” “Oh god yes” you cry as his fingers slowly graze in between your lips. “Are you sure?” he asks, placing his thumb on your clit, rubbing in small, soft circles. “Yes yes, please" you cry, desperately needing more. “Mhm" he says, laying on his stomach. He parts your legs even more, as far as they would go before he attaches his lips to your clit and starts sucking. “Oh my god" you moan, your eyes almost rolling into the back of your head. It had honestly been so long since you were with anyone, you forgot what it was like. You buck your hips up, moving your hips in a circle, needing to get as much friction as you could. “Shit" you cry out. Kai lays his arm across your hips, pushing down to prevent you from moving. He really was trying to kill you. “Oh oh” you cry out, your orgasm coming with great speed. But before you were able too, Kai moves his mouth away from your pussy, letting your orgasm slowly drift away. “Nooo" you cry out, covering your face. “why!?” you demand to know. “The first time you cum, I want it to be all over my cock" he growls, taking his pants off, allowing his large, thick cock to spring free. He wraps his hand around his cock, pumping a few times, coating his length with his precum. You lick your lips as you watch, just wanting him to shove it down your throat until you choke. He crawls in the bed, lining himself up with your entrance. He places your legs on his shoulders, gripping your thighs tightly as he pushes himself into you, completely stretching you out. Once inside of you, Kai is still for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size. He fills you up like no one has before. “Move" you pant, needing to feel him move inside of you. Kai smiles as he slowly pulls out of you, pausing for a moment before ramming his cock back inside you which jolts your body. “Fuck baby girl, you’re so tight” he groans as he quickens his pace. He moves his hands from your thighs to wrap them around your calves, holding them closely to his chest. Kai's thrusts become harder and deeper, hitting your G spot every time. “Rub your clit" he grunts, loosening his grip on your legs. You reach down, placing your fingers in between your lips, rubbing your sweet spot. Your orgasm hadn’t gone too far away, the moment you touched yourself, you were almost right back to cumming. “Oh fuck" you scream out, rubbing circles on your clit faster as Kai fucks you harder. “You feel so fucking good" he groans. “I think I’m going too..” you trail off, your eyes rolling back. “Cum for me baby. Cum all over my cock" he demands. So you do. Your orgasm rips through your body, as you scream out in intense pleasure. “That’s a good girl" he moans, his pace and thrusts becoming erratic. “Where can I cum?” he grunts. “Cum in my pussy, please cum in my pussy" you cry out. Kai’s orgasm takes a hold of him, his thrusts stopping completely as he empties himself inside of you, coating your walls with his juices. He pulls out of you, his cock tender, and he lays down beside you, your sweaty bodies partially touching as you both try to catch your breath. “That was..” you pause. “Amazing" Kai huffs, finishing your sentence. “I guess I better get going.” You sigh after a few moments, getting up to gather your clothes. You look for your underwear before you remember they’re in pieces throughout his room. “You don’t have too.” Kai says, turning on his side, resting his head on his propped up hand. “You don’t really want me to stay. I get what this was. Its fine" you smile, slipping on your pants. You pull your t-shirt over your head, looking at Kai one more time. “What do you think this was?” he asks, sitting on the edge of the bed. “A one night stand.” You declare, walking out to grab your jacket. He follows quickly behind you, yanking on his boxers. “Wait, no" he begins. “You don’t have to explain. You don’t have to try to come up with some kind of reasoning as to why you want me to stay when you really don’t. Like I said, it’s fine. It was a fun night. Maybe I’ll see you again" you finish before the elevator dings at his apartment. You watch his face, which looks confused as the elevator door closes. You can’t imagine what he actually wanted to say. There was no way a man like that would be genuine in saying he wanted you to stay. You were severely out of his league. As much as you didn’t want it to hurt, it did. You liked him but unfortunately for you, it was a one night thing that you would remember forever. ** 9am came quickly the next morning. You hadn’t gotten home from Kai's until 4am and crashed almost immediately when you hit your bed. Thank god for you, you didn’t have to be at work until 10am but you did not get enough sleep. Your feet were dragging as you walked into the office, Angie sitting at her desk, impatiently waiting for you to sit down so she could ask you about why you were so tired. “What did you do last night?” she practically yelled. “Um well.. I went back to Obsession” you admit shyly. “Oh my god. Did you go see Kai? I knew it. I knew there was something between you two” she smiles. “what happened?” “I went back to his place and uh..” you trail off. “Did you fuck him? Please tell me you did. Was his dick huge? I bet it was huge.” A giant grin plasters on your face, confirming her suspicions. “Yes and oh yes” you admit. Angie let’s out a high pitched squeal as she tries to pry every bit of information out of you. After you finish telling you most of the details of your night, she stares at you in amazement. “that is amazing. You’re so lucky" she gasps. “are you going to see him again?” You shake your head. “No, it was just a one time thing" you say. Before she can reply, a man stands in front of your desk, holding a giant bouquet of flowers. “Are you y/n?” he asks. “Yes?” “For you" he says, placing the vase on your desk and walking away. “Oh my god" Angie gushes. “They’re totally from him.” You roll your eyes as you stand up looking for a card. Once you do, you sit down and open the envelope. *I’d really like to see you again, and no I’m not just saying that – Kai* You couldn’t get rid of the smile for the rest of the day, and Angie couldn’t stop gushing about how lucky you were. However one thing confused you. How did he know where you worked? At the end of the day, you’re leaving the building, your giant bouquet in hand. “Do you like your flowers?” You hear a voice question you. Peaking from behind them, you see Kai standing there, leaning against his car. His arms crossed, his suit fitting him perfectly. “I do" you smile. “but how did you know where I worked? You question. “I’m a very persuasive man when I want to be.” He smiles. “Look, I don’t know what gave you the idea that I only wanted one thing from you last night. I thought I had been rather obvious about how much I actually like you. I didn’t want it to be a one night stand" he explains. “I’m sorry, I just assumed..” you trailed off. “What?” he asks. “I assumed that it was all you wanted because, well, look at me and look at you" you say. “I didn’t expect you to want more. I honestly just figured it was a line" you say. “I make it very clear to women what I want. And I thought I had been clear with you, that you were different.” He tells you. “I’m sorry" you whisper. “Don’t be sorry. All I ask is you believe me when I tell you something, that I’m not saying it just to say it.” He smiles. “Now, would you like to go to dinner with me?” “I would love too" you smile.   ** Over the next few weeks, you and Kai were pretty much inseparable. Unless you were at work or had plans with friends, you and he were together. On the weekends you’d head over to Obsession to watch him dance, and watch all the women who were completely enthralled by him. You sat back and laughed to yourself whenever he would look at you, or wink, it had the other women fuming. That night, you spent at Kai's, where he asked you to be his girlfriend, of course you said yes without any hesitation. “I need to ask you for a favor" Kai sighs, as you partially lay on top of him, your head resting on his bare chest. His hand had been tracing along your back, lulling you to sleep, until he spoke. “What’s that?” you ask, wiggling your self slightly so he would continue to rub you. “Don’t.. don’t come to the Southside alone anymore. Not even with your friends, please.” He says. “Why?” you ask, sitting up, holding the sheet to cover your naked body. “Those men from the night after we first me, caught wind of you and I. Not that really any of the other Demons care, but these guys are different. They’re called Malum demons, which means evil. I know everyone has heard the stories that all demons are evil and whatever, but most of us just want to be able go coexist here with everyone, not cause harm.” He sighs. “However, the Malum demons just want that. They’re the ones who want to take souls, kill the humans, torture and murder the men, rape the women to have half human half demon children, who are supposed to be stronger than ever” “W-what can we do? Can we do anything?” you ask, your body beginning to shake. “There are people working on it but they seem to be getting more and more demons siding with them, thinking that it’s how it should be. But they’re pissed off that you got away from them. They wanted you, they still do and wont stop until they’ve got you. They’ll find out your friends, family, acquaintances. Anyone in your life and they’ll take it all away so you have no choice unless you give yourself to them." he tells you. “Oh my god" you cry. You hadn’t been expecting this. It felt like too much. You weren’t safe now. What about your friends? Your family? You’ve put everyone in danger because of your selfish wants of getting to know the demon you met that was dancing at the strip club. “Hey baby, don’t worry. I won’t let anything happen to you.” Kai says, scooting closer to you, holding you tight. “It’ll all be okay” he smiles. You knew he wanted to make you feel better, but you weren’t sure if he could. The next day, after you laid awake in Kai’ bed for the remainder of the night, he was the one to drive you home. He parked in front of your building, turning off the ignition and turned to look at you. “Please remember baby. Don’t go anywhere alone, don’t come to the Southside unless me or one of my friends are with you and don’t answer the door if you don’t know whose behind it. I’m going to get this figured out, I promise. Those fucks won’t get to you.” Forcing a smile, you nod your head before leaning in to give him a quick kiss on those plump lips you loved before heading into your apartment while he waited for you to get inside. You turned, giving him a small wave goodbye before you closed your door behind you, taking a deep breath while taking off your shoes. How the fuck were you supposed to fix this? How were you going to keep everyone safe, especially Kai. You didn’t want him out there, possibly getting hurt because those men didn’t get what they wanted. You barely slept that night as well. Your stomach in knots, as the possibilities swam through your head of what was going to happen. You didn’t want anyone to get hurt, including yourself. But what if you just offered yourself up to the men. Maybe no one would get hurt. You couldn’t do that. No one would ever let you sacrifice yourself to save them, especially not Kai. Pulling out your phone, you dial the number of the one person you knew could help you figure something out. “Hey Angie, I know it’s late but I need your help..” you begin. 45 minutes later, Angie is sitting in your living room with you on the floor as you both eat Chinese food. “So let me get this straight” she pauses. “These guys are planning to attack everyone you know, essentially because you ran away from them and they couldn’t live out their fucked up delusional fantasies with you?” she asks, cocking her head to the side. “Yeah, basically" you nod. “I don’t know what the fuck to do.” “I wish I had an answer for you. But really, it’s going to have to be your decision to make.” She says, glancing around your place, like she hasn’t been here multiple times. “Is Kai coming over tonight?” she asks nonchalant. “Not tonight. He had some stuff to take care of.” You answer. “I’ll be back. Bathroom break.” Angie announced, quickly getting off the floor and heading to the bathroom. You didn’t understand why she was suddenly acting so weird. Pulling our your phone, you send a quick message to Kai, telling him how weirded out you were by her sudden change in behaviour. [8:38pm] Kai ♡: I’m coming over. You didn’t protest, you loved seeing and maybe you’d be able to convince him to finally stay the night. He always would decline because being on the North side made him nervous. You hear a knock at your door, right as Angie steps out of the bathroom. “I shouldn’t answer it.” You whisper to her. You knew that Kai couldn’t have gotten here that fast. She just gives you a smile before she walks to your front door, unlocking it and pulling it open. Standing in front of you are the two men from the day in the coffee shop, you’d never forget those faces. “Close the door! Run!” you scream. Angie laughs. “who do you think told them to come here?” she chuckles. “W-what?” You ask, unable to fully process it. “I called them. I’ve been telling them all about you, sweet y/n. Everything they needed to know.” She smiles as one of the men puts his arm around her waist. “Why?” you whisper.   “Because you stole what was supposed to be MINE.” She yells. “Kai was supposed to be mine. Do you know how long I’ve been going to Obsession? How long I’ve been working on trying to get him to notice me? How many times I’ve done whatever I could to talk to me? I was so close and then you go one night and he acts like you’re the best thing in the world.” She snaps. “So, when they approached me, telling me that they wanted you and for you two to not be together, I figured it was the perfect opportunity. They get you, and I’ll finally get Kai" she smiles. “Do you know what they’re going to do to me!? What any of their fucking plans are?” you cry. You can’t believe this. “I don’t really care, to be honest. I just want what’s mine.” She shrugs. “I thought we were friends" you whisper. “We were. Until you stole from me y/n. I don’t like thief’s” The three of them stood there, staring at you. You were shocked and felt betrayed but more so, you were trying to figure out a way to escape. Hoping that Kai would be there soon enough to help you. “Enough of this sappy shit. Take what you want, boys.” Angie says, moving to the side as the two men walk towards you. You turn to run but you’re not quick enough, one of the already has his hand wrapped tightly around your wrist. “No!” you scream. “Fucking let her go, right now" you hear a voice snarl behind you. You turn around, seeing Kai with an angrier face than ever. “Kai, baby. Just let them go. You have me now" you hear Angie purr, in a desperate attempt to be sexy. “What’s it going to take with you? I don’t fucking want you. Never have, never will" he snaps at her. “Back off Kai. We just want what slipped away from us.” One of the men growls, his grip tightening. “We don’t want you to get hurt, pretty boy" Kai laughs. “I think I’ll be fine. Besides, there’s a lot more of us then there is of you" he smiles, cocking his head to the side. Before either of the men can say a word, there’s four men behind Kai, men that you recognize from the club. “So again, let her go.” Kai snaps. The two men look at eachothers and smile. The one holding onto you pushes you back harshly, causing you to stumble back, tripping over the area rug and hitting your head on an end table. You try to keep your eyes open, but with in seconds your world turns black, as you fall unconscious to sight of Kai lunging for the man, his eyes black. ** When you wake up, you’re expecting to still be in your apartment in your bed, hopefully with Kai laying next to you. But instead you’re laying in a hospital bed, with an IV in your arm and Kai’s head resting on the edge of your bed. “Kai?” you whisper. His head shoots up, his eyes wide. “why am I in a hospital?” you ask, looking at his face to make sure he had no cuts or bruises. “You hit your head when that piece of shit shoved you” he says, looking you in the eyes. “I needed to make sure you were okay" “I would have been fine in my own bed too. This is going to cost a fortune” you groan, getting out of the bed. “Don’t worry about that. It’s all covered. I just wanted to make sure that there wasn’t anything else wrong, something more. You hit it pretty hard" he says, offering his hand to you. “I’m just fine. Don’t worry. What happened?” you asked. You almost didn’t want too. You were worried about what words might come out of his mouth next. “All I’m going to say is you wont need to worry about those two. They’re not going to be trying to bother you anymore.” He smiles. The two of you begin to walk out of the room, when the doctor stops you, asking to speak with you for a second. “Why? You said she was clear to go when she woke up” Kai says.   “Y-yes, but I just have a few questions to ask her, privately.” The doctor stutters. “Its okay. I’ll be right out" you say to Kai, letting go of his hand. Once the door closes, the doctor looks at you with worried eyes. “are you okay? Do you need help? I know what he is.” The doctor whispers. “What? Help? No? He’s my boyfriend.” You laugh. “I don’t need help. Not all demons are bad, doctor” you laugh, opening the door, slipping your hand in Kai's and walking out the front entrance. Kai takes you back to his house, claiming he needed to do some cleaning at your house before you could go back. You were pretty sure you knew what he meant but decided you really didn’t want to know about the possible dead demons laying on your living room floor. ** The next day you went to work, and sitting at the desk next to yours sat a very sad looking Angie. You didn’t bother to look at her, or even acknowledge her. In fact, as far as you were concerned, she was dead to you. “Y/N..” she whispers. “Don’t.” you snap, your eyes never leaving your papers. “I don’t want to hear anything from you. Ever.” “Please.” She cries. “I don’t know what came over me" “I know exactly what came over you. Greed, jealousy, selfishness to name a few.” You spit. “Let me make it up to you" she whispers. “Why? So you can stab me in the back again? No thanks.” You say, walking to your bosses office, in hope’s of being able to be transferred to a different desk, or yet a different department. ** A few months later, you and Kai were still going stronger than ever. He had met your crazy mother, who pretty much fell for him the moment she saw him walk through the door. At that moment she didn’t care what he was, she only cared on how he treated you. She had been so wrapped up in the fact that he was a demon that she never thought that he would be anything but terrifying to look at, and a monster. As it turned out, she had never actually seen a demon before. She could have passed one on the street and never would have known considering she was always looking for a terrifying creature, which they were anything but. Once you had transferred desks at work, you never saw Angie again. Not even when you, Lisa and Jennie had gone to Obsession together. The fear of the Southside had slowly diminished as people from the North crossed the boarders and saw for themselves that they meant no harm to them. It was finally acceptable for humans and demons to be together, and everyone could come and go from each side as they pleased. After a few more months, you and Kai had moved in together. You happily left your small apartment with some bad memories for his penthouse which held only good ones. You and Kai laid in bed on the first night of living together, laughing and talking. “I want to ask you something" he states, sitting up in bed. “Okay?” you say, a little nervous. “Now, I haven’t brought this up because I didn’t want you to feel pressured to say yes, and I know it’s only been not even a year that we’ve been together, but..” he pauses, jumping out of his bed to rummage through his dresser. By the time he walks towards you, you’re sitting on the edge of the bed with your hands in your lap and a tingle in your stomach. Kai slowly sinks down onto one knee, pulling out a small box. “I’ve loved you since I first saw you walk into my club. I honestly can’t imagine my life without you. Will you be mine forever?” he whispers, opening the box, revealing a beautiful and large diamond ring. “will you marry me?” You can’t help the tears from streaming down your cheeks. You can’t formulate any words, your brain was barely working to process what he had just asked you. “You.. you want to marry me?” you cry.   “Yes baby, it’s you. It’ll always be you" he smiles, taking the ring from the box to slid it on your extended hand as you yell ‘yes' through your tears. You stare at your hand for a second, admiring your newly acquired piece of jewelry. You let out a loud chuckle as Kai tackles you back onto the bed, smiling as he hovers over you. He leans his head down, pressing his lips onto yours. His hand trails from the side of your face down as he slides his body off of you. He reaches under your silence nightgown, cupping your breast before teasing your nipple with his fingers. He sits up, pulling you up as well. “Arms up" he purrs. You do as your told, moving so he’s able to pull your nightgown off of you, discarding it somewhere in your shared bedroom. He lays you back down, placing gentle kisses along your stomach, moving his way up to suck on each breast. He looks up at you again, smiling before climbing off the bed, and onto his knees on the floor. Kai spreads your legs wide, allowing him to see one of his favorite views. “Mhm” he groans, leaning forward to lick a long strip up your pussy. “Oh god" you cry out as the tip of his tounge begins to flick your clit, causing your legs to shake. Kai spreads your lips before he latches his lips to your clit, sucking harshly before sticking two fingers inside of you. Your eyes are closed as he works on you, your hands reach up to cup your breasts. You then move one hand further down, running it through his luscious blue hair, gripping tightly on a chunk. Kai continues to thrust his fingers in and out of you while switching from sucking and licking your clit. “Fuck fuck" you cry out, your orgasm building quickly. Kai switches the pace of his fingers frequently, going from slow to fast, making your orgasm come faster. “I.. I’m gunna cum” you scream out, your body slightly convulsing as the high coursed through your entire body. Kai lifts his head from in between your legs, your wetness shining on his face as his licks it up. “You always taste so fucking good baby" he smiles as he stands up, his cock pressing harshly against his sweat pants. You smile as you climb off the bed, kneeling in front of him now. You hook your fingers on the inside of his sweatpants, dragging them down his legs. His cock springs free, the tip red and almost throbbing while leaking precum. You lick your lips as you move your mouth closer, opening wide to take him all in. Kai jerks his hips forward, pushing himself down your throat. “Fuck baby" he groans, his hands gathering a clump of hair. He gently thrusts his hips, shoving his cock down your throat, a little further with each thrust. The tears begin to fall down your eyes as you swallow his cock with every thrust he gives you, choking a little each time. “Such a good little slut for me" he moans, his thrusts becoming faster. “You want me to cum in your mouth?” he grunts, his grip on your hair tightening. “Mhmm" the only sound you can make. “Shit" he cries out as he pulls himself mostly all out of your mouth, except for his tip while he shoots his load inside your mouth. Standing up he smirks at you and your clearly still full mouth. “Swallow, baby” he whispers, watching you intensely. You look him straight in the eyes as you swallow everything in your mouth, as he groans in satisfaction. “fuck you’re sexy" he smiles, whisking you off your feet and throwing you onto the bed. “I can’t wait to marry you” he smiles. “Mrs. Kim Y/N" he says, placing another kiss on your lips.

[wcmi-22]

Happy Birthday Alice Liddell

It was a beautiful May Day! Though of course this was no ordinary day for Alice Liddell. For today was her birthday and she soon would be turning 20 years old. Now before she came to wonderland, all she had to look foreword too was big extravagant parties to meet some idiotic, piggish lord or duke or some other millionaire it be her future husband. After all, it was practically law that women of their youth ought to get married before the are resorted to and or labeled as spinsters. Yet, even throughout her years she has successfully turned every Eligible bachelor down with only a few words to destroy their confidence and manhood all together including one Reginald Theophilus the third.

Still this year was different. She is living in Wonderland now with her friends and her and Reginald are practically friends even though he still annoys her quite a bit. Still, she couldn’t ask for anything more on her birthday than just a simple day at her job and a restful evening.

To her surprise when she got to the shop, Belle along with the other princesses and Ears (the March hare) surprised her for her birthday. That day Belle, Ears and the princesses decided to close up early , take Alice out to dinner and all the while give Alice lots of gifts from all of them. Though Alice was expecting a quiet day, turns out to her it was so much better.

Yet, as the little get together went on, Alice could not help wonder, where was Reginald?

“Ears,” she inquired “where is Reginald?”

Ear perked up his ears and said “oh Reg, you do not have to worry about him, my dear. Reginald hates birthdays!”

Alice was shocked! “How could someone hate birthdays?” She thought “Although this was someone who celebrates unbirthdays!”

“So, all I had to do was have a birthday and he could leave me alone?!” She questioned.

“It appears so!” Stated Belle.

“Maybe you should have them everyday to avoid him more!” Said one of the princess and everyone except Belle,Alice and Ears laughed.

As the party went on, Alice smiled and conversed with her friends on the outside but, deep down she had this sinking feeling she did not understand.

“He annoys you!” She states in her mind “ yet, you miss him?! Why???”

As the party came to a close,she slowly walked back to her house with all her gift bags in hand that all her friends got her. With each arm they ranged in a row and were carried through the street. As Alice, walked through those said streets, she once again questioned herself of why she missed Reginald.

She could not understand it. I mean even if he did celebrate birthdays, all he would do is mess something up or do something rude like play a prank as a gift or order a cake that was shaped like him or...

Suddenly, she saw him at her house no less. There on her porch she saw the most unusual sight. A banner with her that read “Happy Birthday Alice!!!” Obviously, decorated by him. Streamers on her porch along with dozens of balloons and to top it all off a devious looking three layered cake that had pink frosting with red roses and green leaves along with a few lit candles and words on top which read “Happy Birthday my cricket!”

It was all so wonderful and sweet?! The whole thing was so shocking to her that she dropped her bags all together and walked toward him.

“Did you do all this?” She asked “For me?”

The Hatter nodded his head and smiled brightly.

“Oh Reginald!” She said with delight “I don’t know what to...”

“Well don’t just stand there love,” he said “make a wish!”

Alice looked around at all the hatter did and even at the mad man himself then made her wish until finally blowing out the candles.

Alice and Reginald soon sat on the porch swing together, eating the devious cake that Reginald surprisingly made and talking away.

“I can’t believe you made this!” Alice said with her mouth full.

“Yep,” Reginald confirmed “it’s an old family recipe. Still to tell you the truth, I should have made my grandfather’s Marmalade, Mascarpone, Marshmallow, Meringue, Madness!” ( a little bit of the title inspired my my little pony: friendship is magic!Please don’t sue!)

“Still,” Alice says swallowing her cake “ this is the best gift ever!”

“Oh cricket that’s not your gift!” Reginald stated and then reached into his hat and pulled out a baby blue and white striped box with a baby pink ribbon on top then gave it to Alice.

“Open it up!” He said and so she did.

To her surprise, the gift was actually deceit! It was a simple but, beautiful silver necklace that had a star ,in fact the North Star,which had little sparkly diamonds in it.

“Oh Reginald!” She gasped “it’s beautiful!”

“I remember you were talking about astronomy the other day and how you loved stars.” He stated “So I made many attempts to get you at least one star from the heavens but, to no avail all my plans failed so, I got you hopefully the next best thing?”

“No, I absolutely love it!” She said with excitement!” Reginald soon place the necklace around her for her and Alice could do nothing but gaze at it with such delight until suddenly she hugged him.

“Thank you for making this the best birthday ever!” She said and Reginald hugged back.

“Thank you for making this the best life ever, cricket!”

The end.

[livingmybestfictionallife]

Knife in a Gun Fight

Colson Baker/MGK 1920s bootlegger AU

A/N--This is the very short intro/prologue of my Colson Baker/MGK 1920s gangster AU. Message me to be added to the tag list, and chapter 1 will be up in a few hours.

Established in the plains of north Texas, a solitary, Irish Catholic family existed solely on their ability to farm and sell—farm, sell, farm, sell. For generations, farming produce, such as wheat and corn, was all any member of the Nevin family knew. There was nothing outside of the small, flat farm; no prospects of any other career, no hope for advancement, no life for a person with the last name Nevin, and the same could be said about the Klaffs. This was a fact of nature known for generations upon generations, until the birth of Siobhan-Honora Nevin.

As a bitter cold air pierced her neck, Siobhan peeled her eyes away from the newspaper she had been examining and carefully scanned the room. Sure, there was a sense of protection as she sat in a semi-circle booth surrounded by her cousins and brothers, but it didn’t take away from the sheer danger she knew they were in. The cozy and welcoming feeling of the small café she sat in did nothing to ease the gnawing within her stomach as her eyes nervously danced across the room once more before she returned her attention to the paper before her.

A fresh mug of steaming hot coffee was placed in front of her by a young woman who couldn’t have been much older than herself, and she tried to ignore the flirtatious glances the woman exchanged with her older cousin, George Klaff. “Do you mind,” Siobhan huffed under her breath as she pulled the paper back to her line of sight and cautiously examined it for any tips or leads that contained information about any of the five individuals gathered around the table.

“Get off it, Shiv,” George grumbled as he leaned over and propped his elbows up onto the table. “We’re in Saint Paul. Ain’t no body going to find us here.” Shiv eyed her cousin as she chewed anxiously at the inside of her lip.

“We’re ‘hiding out’ in the place all criminals go to lay low. It’s a safe haven for the lowly, and it’s the first place someone will come looking for us,” Shiv retorted as she lowered her voice and glared across the table at George.

“Lay off her, George. You know she’s right,” George’s little brother, Walter, piped up. At only twenty-one, Walter was the youngest of the bunch of familial misfits. He hadn’t meant to get mixed up in the actions of his older brother and cousins, but once he had, he knew there was no going back.

“Who’s the oldest one here?” George retorted as he scanned over the faces before him. “Who formed this operation nine years ago?”

“You know your role, George,” said Shiv’s older brother, Arthur, in a deep and low tone. “All of us do, and right now, it’s time for us to back down and for Shiv to take over. Got it?” George scrunched up his face and pursed his lips in aggravation, however he knew the words Art had spoken to be true.

Had it really been nine years? Shiv thought as she looked over the men’s faces around her. George was a year away from thirty with nothing to show as proof he’d lived life other than a few scars from narrow escapes from death. George was a fairly tall man, standing just below six foot, with a stocky build. His dark eyes were clouded with hooded brows and his black hair fell over his forehead in shaggy strands. The energetic and playful look he’d once had when he first, unintentionally, introduced his cousins and brother to this lifestyle was replaced with a stoic and mysterious grimace which instantly tied together his allure of being the tall, dark, and handsome stranger of the group.

Art stood slightly taller than George with a leaner frame but equally as strong and muscular as his older cousin. He was only seventeen when he began driving George around to neighboring counties, unaware at first of what they were doing, however upon realizing there was something to do with his life other than farming, Art willingly continued working with George. His deep blue eyes had only grown sharper with time and his once sandy blonde hair had darkened into a light brown.

A year of Art and George wandering throughout Collin, Grayson, and Hunt counties was more than enough time for Shiv to connect the dots and blackmail her way into the non-nefarious criminal activities the pair of cousins were performing. At sixteen, she could see the benefits her brother and cousin were bringing their families, and being the only educated member of either family—aside from their parents—Shiv demanded to be let into the operation. She’d always been tough and stronger than other girls her age. Being a girl didn’t excuse her from working on the farm once she returned home from school or had no where to go during the summer, however it did damn her to the fate of being nothing more than bride-wealth for her family. She saw what her cousin and brother were doing to be a means of escaping her fate, and like the older two members of the group, she embraced it.

Undenounced to Shiv, her younger brother Edmund had overheard her conversation with George and Art, and threatened to tell their parents if they didn’t include him. Two years later, when Walt was fifteen, he joined what would become known across the country as the Nevin-Klaff gang.

The papers have it wrong, Shiv would constantly tell herself as she read article after article in nearly every Tribune, Press, News, Gazette, and Journal from Texas to Minnesota containing the words Nevin and Klaff. They only see us as breaking the law. They don’t care that it’s a stupid law, and they certainly don’t try and see the benefits small farms across the country are reaping because of it. Shiv knew the papers didn’t care, that law enforcement didn’t care, and that no glory would ever be sent their way, but she knew that because of her, her brothers, and her cousins, farmers that would have otherwise lost their land to banks are now developing nest eggs, and that was all that mattered to her.

“I wonder how Ma and Pop are doing,” Eddy sighed as his eyes trailed the paper over his sister’s shoulder. She knew he was trying to read, and after what she’d been teaching him, she assumed he could come to the same conclusion she had—they were going to be on the move for quite some time.

“Sometimes I have dreams of Mom and Pa swinging out on the porch swing with Auntie Johanna and Uncle Owen, not having to worry about a damned thing anymore, but then I remember they’re probably worrying about us,” Walt sighed as he scooped some eggs up on his fork and shoveled them into his mouth. “It makes me want to see them again.”

“Y’all know we can’t ever go home,” Shiv commented sharply as her eyes darted between the two younger members of the group. Edmund was only a year younger than her, but only growing up on the farm and not having any friends outside of their cousins made him seem much younger than his biological age, and even thought Walter was only three years younger than Shiv, he shared a similar outlook as Eddy. “I don’t mean to sound harsh, but you knew this was a possibility when you signed up,” she said in a softer and more gentle tone after seeing how her brother’s face fell at her harsh words.

“They’re still kids, Shiv,” George whispered into his cousin’s ear only to have her turn her head to face him. Her pale eyes shone up at him as her dark hair fell around the soft, pale skin of her face. Everything about her was binary; her features were sharp yet gentle, she was dangerous but offered safety and comfort, and the one he struggled most with: the wisdom that aged her stood in stark contrast to her youth. Too many times both George and Art forgot that the brains leading them across the country and into safety while still calculating ways to help others was barely older than the two members he still considered kids.

“So, what do we do?” Art asked as he looked at his sister for guidance. Shiv laid the paper down in her lap and looked nervously over her accomplices’ shoulders before lowering her voice to a whisper.

“Local cops are looking for us in the towns we hit on the way up here. We stuck to smaller cities and already returned the profit to the farms. We have enough cash to keep us tied over for a bit, but we have to be careful. No blowing cash, starting fights, or trying to find a quick score or fast job, got it?” she asked as she met each of her family members’ eyes. “Don’t draw attention to yourself by any other groups hanging around here. Most of the country’s attention is on Capone, so there’s still a way we can slide by unnoticed.”

“We can’t stay here forever, Shiv,” Art said softly as he stretched his back and looked out over the café.

“We just have to stay long enough for me to pull off one last scheme.” A devious smirk tugged at her lips as she plotted what was sure to be a one-way ticket to safety for her and her family. Shiv thought through everything: how to gain protection and ensure safety, how to pass through dangerous territory without feeling the threat of danger, how to not only survive, but thrive. She knew her plan inside and out, but there was one obstacle that stood in her way, one uncertainty she figured she could face and be done with, one man who was known by outsiders solely as The Gun.

Next Chapter 

[dazzlingfantasiesblogs]

Ruby Eyed Woman P1

Hello my loves! <3 Miss you all!

I binged watched The Witcher on Netflix and I am in love with Geralt.. Yummm.. 

ANYWAYS. .  I have started writing a fanfic and here is part one.

Geralt x Reader

WARNINGS/TRIGGERS: Talk of past abuse/sexual abuse. Blood. Angst. 

As always 18+ Only, I will block minors. 

DO NOT REPOST ANY OF MY STORIES ANYWHERE ELSE. THANK YOU! <3

Preview: She is one of few women Witchers that walk the earth with extraordinary talents. When the white wolf lays eyes on one of his own kind, things start to change around him.

I DO NOT OWN GIFS OR IMAGES. 

I DO NOT OWN THE WITCHER.

The branches snapped with every step you took in the forest. Walking slowly, patiently. Listening to the amazing birds and to the critters that surrounded you and Sawyer. Your body was tired from the constant movement for days on end. Slumping against a rock, closing your tired red ruby eyes.  Sawyer walking close to you, laying his white furred head on your lap. “I promise, it will be only tonight, then we can sleep in a hotel tomorrow.” looking at the horse near you, Lily who had already fallen asleep. Luckily, they crossed a crop valley, and Lily and Sawyer ate their fill.

The sun peaked over the treetops, the light shining over your face. Slowly opening your eyes with purpose for the day. To get some food in your stomach, ale to quench your dry throat and a mission to get you coin.

Standing up Sawyer raised as well, stretching back and forth on his paws. Glancing up at Lily your horse, a smile dashed across your lips. The horse snorting and nudging your shoulder as you gently pet the mane on top of her soft head. “Come now, lets get you a warm stable to sleep in tonight Lily.” Getting on the back of the horse, Sawyer, Lily and you headed towards the closest city.

Two hours passed, finally hearing hooves on stone you relaxed slightly. Quickly chanting a small word in Elder, the ruby red eyes changed to something more “normal” as the humans called it. Sliding down your horse looking around the small town. Everyone busy, walking the streets, talking and getting food.  Rolling your head around a bit to release some of the tension in your stiff neck from sleeping on a rock; after hearing a slight crack you kept on your way.

Tying Lily up, you walked into a tavern. Everyone turned to stare at the person who was not a commoner in these parts. Nodding your head to the locals; walking to the bar. “Ale, please.” She spoke lowly, Sawyer sitting on the floor next to the stool. “No critters in here.” Looking up at the man, she smirked. “If I can throw a knife between the eyes of that deer on the wall across the room, you let him stay. Hell, we can wager bets on it.” Enticing to the bartender he nodded. Taking bets from the people around that over hurd the conversation. Standing across the bar you threw one your knifes that was on your leather belt across the room. Hitting the deer clean between the eyes. The bartender staring at you stunned. “Alright boys, pay up.” Soon coins dropped next to your ale. “The dog stays.” The bartender admitted defeat and carried on with his work.

By any chance, are you here to help the Witcher with the werewolf problem we have?” Raising your left eyebrow, nodding no. “I think he might be out of his league. There is at least a whole pack that has invaded the area.” “Who is he?” The man nodded over to a man in a black cloak. “Hmm, not my issue as of now. I am sure that Witcher can handle it.” Finishing your ale you walked out the bar and headed to Lily. Getting on you back your remembered a small waterfall. Galloping fast, Sawyer ran close to you making it two miles from the town. Getting off Lily you handed her a carrot. She ate it slowly, savoring every bite. Leaning down you handed Sawyer a small piece of raw meat to enjoy.

Walking towards the small lake with a strong waterfall pouring in its center, you untied your top. Taking off your black leather armor with blue detailing, you grabbed the bottom of your shirt, setting it next to your armor. Stripping yourself of boots, pants and underwear you headed towards the lake stepping in. Sitting low in the water you closed your eyes, the warm water caressing your sore muscles in the most of delicious ways. “I can sense you, your presence is quite strong.” Behind some trees appeared a tall, built man with a horse. “Witcher, what do you want?” “I came to take a bath.” He spoke low and raspy. “Then do so. No need, I won’t harm you. Name is Y/N of Rivia.” The mans eyes widened. “Geralt… Of Rivia.” Opening your eyes, you looked at the man who was now fully covered by the water. “Hm, nice to meet you.” You nodded to him, going under the water and coming back up. “Who are they?” Nodding Geralt looked at Sawyer and Lily. “That is Lily and Sawyer. My babies.” 

You smiled looking at them. “Well, Witcher, seems like you have this werewolf situation worked out.” “Not exactly.. Apparently, these people are being taken. It is being thought they are being turned.” Furrowing your eyebrows, you looked at the man. “Then they can be turned back. . IF they have not killed a human there is a spell that can reverse it.” “How do you know that?” Sighing slightly “I can do magic; I take pride in knowing my tools to survive in this world.” Walking out of the water, you felt eyes on your wet body. Grabbing a towel, you dried off, sliding on your clothes. Hearing the water rumble you looked to see Geralt getting out as well. “I will split the coin with you, if you help.” “The mighty white wolf can’t handle this?” The smirk that played on the beautiful mans face made you chuckle. “I don’t want the coin; I don’t need it. I will help, just buy me a drink at the end of this.” Geralt smiled walking with you over to Lily and his horse. “So your name is Roach huh?” “How did you know that?” internally cursing yourself you wanted to scream for letting this slip. “I. . . I can hear what animals are saying. .” “Impossible...” The man was quick to shoot down your talent. “Then tell me why Roach has a twig stuck on you right back hoof and it is annoying her.” Geralt bent down looking at the hoof. He looked back at you, his amber eyes bright with confusion and curiosity. “She is wondering if she can have a carrot that is in my bag.” Nodding slowly, he watched as you grabbed two. Handing on to Roach, petting her head gently smiling towards her. “There you go pretty girl.” The horse snorted pushing her head into your shoulder. Holding one behind you, Lily gently took it from your hand. “Well since you know one of my secrets maybe you should know the other.” Tilting his head, he looked at you confused. Closing your eyes and opening they reverted to the red color around your pupil. “What the fuck?” Geralt took a slight step back. “I am a Witcher too...” you whispered. “Impossible...” Geralt whispered under his breath.” “2 out 35 of us made it..” you spoke mumbling. I do not know who the other one is. “I don’t believe you...” Sticking out your arm, you grabbed his hand, setting it on your pulse point. He felt the slow beat against his fingers. Your pulse was the same rhythm as his. No wonder he could not sense a strong heartbeat from you. “Amazing...” Geralt spoke pulling you closer. You could feel his breath against your neck, feeling the pulse point in your neck to prove it further.

“Excuse me... Witcher” a woman’s voice could be hurd not far into the forest. “Do not say anything” you whispered to Geralt, your eyes changing back to a “normal” color. “When do you plan on going after the werewolves. Another child is missing…” the young woman spoke, nervously looking at him. “We will be going out tonight to look for them.” Changing your position she looked at you. “You will just get in the way...” “I promise you, I won’t.” Grabbing your sword, he looked to you.” Both of you climbing on to Roach and Lily.

“That sword has a Ruby encrusted in it... It looks like...” “Vesemir...” you finished his sentence. “He saved me... I could have died from the mutations... but I would have been dead if he had not gotten me anyways.” “What did he do to you.. after the training?” Looking down, you took a deep breath. “He... I was requested to be of service to a King, north of Cintra in a smaller area. There was plenty of monsters and I was tasked on keeping the town safe. The truth is... the king and his men where the monsters…” You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to stay calm. “I was used... not for... for…” Geralt’s eyes widened. “Slaying monsters. but being used.. they knew about my Witcher capabilities. So five knights would tie me up.. and you can guess the rest.” Geralt stopped Roach, you galloped ahead. Pulling on Lily’s reigns you stopped. “I… I am sorry..” shaking your head you shrugged “Only thing I can do is to keep moving forward.” “Is that why you felt fine being naked in front of me?” “I am not beautiful by any means.. I have scars that cover my body from fights with monsters and the monsters I told you about..” Geralt sped a head in front of you. “You are gorgeous.”

After getting back to the bar, you both tied up your horses. Sawyer close to you, sitting in the booth across from Geralt. “Why are you sitting with a Witcher?” Looking to the man who was staring at you with a smirk, obvious devious intentions. You flashed your red eyes at him, causing the man to scream. Your eyes went back to the blue color you often wore. “Demon!” The man yelled at the top of his lungs. All the customers turned to stare at you. “How rude… I am no demon..” Pouting the customers turned their attention to the man who screamed. “Get out of here! How dare you pick on a young girl! Your drunk!” The man looked around in disbelief and left the bar.

“So, those eyes of yours must come in handy.” Geralt spoke calmly looking at you, taking a sip of his ale. “They can be, but my eyes tend to get sensitive after a while. Holding a color takes a bit of concentration.” Your used both your hands to rub your sore eyes. “I am going tonight to handle the werewolves. At least that was my plan.” “Sounds good to me. Having a bit of help would be nice for a change.” Geralt spoke with a change of pace all of a sudden.

The sun set as you and Geralt walked outside of the city. Grabbing a few viles from your satchel you looked around. “I can sense if they can be turned. We need to knock them out if we can turn them, not kill them.” Raising his eyebrow, he acted as if this is a new concept to him. “Killing innocents who have been turned against there will is not something I do. “I can agree with that logic.” Geralt spoke holding his hand out. Hearing a tree branch snap you stood still. “Left! Innocent!” you hollered as what can only be described as an extra ravinous dog came at you. Geralt grabbed it punching it in the stomach. Falling to the ground you ran to the unconscious body, opening its mouth. Unpopping the small cork to the vile, you dropped the liquid in the beast’s mouth. With in second a small girl appeared unconscious. “It works.” “Now instead of just protecting ourselves we need to protect any that are innocents.” Geralt complained. “Not necessarily.” “Dliehs” you muttered as a bubble formed around the child. “Right, kill.” You blurted out. Geralt grabbed his sword, swinging it towards the man. Missing him, the creature moved fast towards you. Grabbing your sword swiftly, you swung, cutting its head clean off.

“Two behind you, innocents!” Hollering, grabbed the other two valves. Kicking one in the stomach you repeated the first process and then a third time. Putting shields around the children. Geralt looked back to you focusing your magic. “Shit... Five. I can’t read them all... Sawyer! I am turning you!” The dog jumped up, Geralt watched as you muttered a few words. “namuh uoy emoceb!”. Geralt watched as her dog turned into a human with white armor. His hair long and black. “Nice to finally say Hello.” Sawyer bowed to Geralt before grabbing his sword at his side. “There is three innocents, I can’t tell which ones they are...” “Mom you are using too much magic... I sense it is draining... You are going to overwork yourself.” “Y/N stop... it isn’t worth it...” Geralt spoke quickly. “Innocent you yelled pointing, cutting him off. Geralt flipped the beast around landing it on its back, knocking it out cold. Sprinting you gave it the vial. After the three innocents has their medicine, you stumbled back. It was getting hard to breath and there was at least two more you could sense. “There is way more than I would have guessed. The rest.. Kill.” Your spoke confidently grabbing your sword. Swinging it, you seen more come out of the woods. Sawyer, Geralt and you all taking them down little by little. “Duck!” Sawyer Hollard. Following his command, you did just that.  As he killed the beast behind you.

An hour of swinging and you holding your magic as long as possible you kneeled in the grass exhausted. “Mom... your eyes...” Geralt looked back to see your red eyes glowing intensely as blood dripped like a tear. Sawyer kneeled next to you rubbing your shoulder. “How long do you stay like this?” Geralt looked at the man, eyeing his every feature. Confused on how real he looked. “An hour and a half.” “Dliehs nwod” Soon the shields around the kids went down. “They are all ok, they will make a recovery...” Falling forward as you spoke. Sawyer caught you in his arms “Lily, come here please...” The horse galloped next to Sawyer. Picking you up gently, he set you on Lily. “Geralt, I got about twenty minutes left. I can help you carry the kids back to town.”

Arriving in the town, Geralt and Sawyer brought the kids to the doctor’s house. Sawyer begging Geralt not to expose what you where to the doctor. Walking back out the boys seen you awake slightly sitting on Lily. “Mom, you can not keep over doing it…” Sawyer said grabbing your hand. “My son is too worried about me. I am ok Sawyer.” You stared into your dogs human green eyes. “Let’s go get you a place to rest your head for the night at least mom.” “You will be joining me too as well correct?” Geralt looked at you surprised and then smiled slightly.” “Witcher’s need to stay together.” Geralt smiled nodding. “Mom, I am going to turn soon.” Nodding smiled at Sawyer and a puff of smoke changed him human again. “I really don’t think I could ever get use to that.” Geralt laughed slightly under his breath. “Wow, so the stoic Geralt does laugh.” “Hmm..” His face continued to relax looking you, thinking about how beautiful you were. Someone so interesting, it would be hard for him to ignore that throbbing feeling in his chest since the moment he laid eyes on you. “We should get some rest Geralt. I can feel my energy drainin..” “Hey Witcher! Get out of here!” You looked past Geralt shoulder seeing a man of short statue throw a dagger. Catching it before it hit his back. Slicing your hand you grimaced a bit. Stepping in front of Geralt you walked towards the man “Y/N..” Geralt spoke out to you. Holding out the knife, throwing it in the dirt you grabbed the man by his neck, holding him in the air. The more you squeezed, he his limbs wiggled trying to get out of your grasp. “You ever, disrespect the man that saved your village or anyone I surround myself with.. I will kill you…” you spoke throwing the man into a cart knocking him out.

[the-omni-princess]

Blood Bound [Chapter Three]

Author: @the-omni-princess

Pairing: Vampire!Bucky x Witch!Reader

Summary: Vampires and witches have been known enemies since the dark ages. Backstabbing, secrets, and magic turned supernatural brethren again each other. As a natural-born witch, you grew up on these stories, your own monsters under your bed. What happens when one of those sworn enemies claims that you are his blood mate, the vampire equivalent of a true mate? Will you give in to this man out of time? Or destroy him for the sake of your Coven?

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: nightmares, witchy things, vampire things, minor death, attempted assault.

A/N:

Anyway! I’d like to thank two cuties. @annaloveloki for always trying to beta (and listen to my stories in the middle of anatomy lectures), and @peterfrxst for listening to all my wild Vamp and Witch ideas. <3

Updates will be slow since I have midterms this week, sorry

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[Series Masterlist] 

 [My Masterlist]

 [Playlist Inspired by the Series]

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“I know, I know, but it made me feel safe, and I don’t know. It felt like…” you ran your hand over your face, eyebrows scrunching up as you thought. “Like a warm bath on a cold day, or lighting a new candle, or snuggling in blankets while watching a movie, it felt like home. I just followed that little tug until it led me into the woods, and to James.”

“James?” Wanda looked up from the safe space of Natasha’s arms.

“Yep, James… How do I say this without being judged?”

“Y/n, you’re a natural-born witch that we’ve kept hidden from the Council for years, you can tell us anything.” Nat pointed out, placing an encouraging hand on your knee.

Taking a shaky breath, you nodded. “Well, for starters, he’s a vampire,” you saw Carol stiffen beside you. “And he claims, we are Bound.”

--

“Wait, wait, wait,” Natasha, who knew you felt a presence in the woods, spoke up first. “Is he the reason for that presence?”

You nodded, “It is…” You knew you could trust them, but you were unsure how supportive these witches, the literal enemies of vampires, would feel about your vampire boyfriend. Wait, no. Boy that’s a friend.

“I thought Bindings were rare,” Wanda spoke up, pushing away her tears, intrigued as to what was happening.

“Yeah, and how can you be Soul Bound to a vampire of all creatures?!” Carol was tense, she would of course take it the hardest. “They’re monsters!”

You winced, feeling her powers start to permeate the air, your own quickly followed. “He is not a monster,” you snarled, lightning crackled, ghastly shocks of blue and white flowing around you. You couldn’t explain the absolute need to defend him, you barley even knew him, yet you knew he wasn’t just an ordinary blood sucker.

“They all are!” Carol’s eyes began to glow a low golden color, most likely mirroring your own.

“I didn’t choose to be Bound to him, Carol! What am I supposed to do? Ignore all these feelings inside me? Just let the Council kill him, blame him for the North’s death, blame him for the crystals, blame him for everything? Or maybe you just want to blame me for it all! I didn’t choose this! I didn’t choose a vampire, I didn’t choose a Binding, I didn’t choose to be born with powers, I didn’t choose to have the Council hate me, I didn’t choose any of this!” The electricity pulsed around you, and even Nat’s usual tricks couldn’t calm you anymore.

Carol’s own power died down, sensing your panic replacing your anger. “Y/n…” she spoke softly, and something in you broke. “I know you didn’t choose him, but you know what he is…”

Sniffling, you reigned in your powers, defeat settling into your bones. You slumped on the couch, letting your eyes close. “He’s the first choice I actually have. Carol, I have to at least explore this,” you murmured, gulping down the rest of your tears.

“Be careful,” she quickly left, and you couldn’t really blame her. Both of her parents had been killed by vampires, that’s why she became a witch. So, it wouldn’t happen again. Guilt weighed heavy on your shoulders, and you groaned. “I’m going to bed. I’m tired of reading about Bindings and well… everything,” you didn’t wait for a response, heading up stairs.

Collapsing on your bed, you sighed softly. Life had become much more complicated within weeks, and you had the feeling it was about to get more twisted as you slipped into unconsciousness.

-

Darkness surrounded you, the faint push of a howling storm, the cliff below you lit up with your powers. Sharp, jagged rocks illuminated in your light show. Crashing waves, somehow too high to hear. Summoning lighting always felt easier in dreams, yet every flash of lightning slowed as the winds picked up around you, pulling you from the edge. A voice called from behind you, muddled, the words hidden by the wind. The air thickened into honey, too dense to move backwards, as the wind fought to keep you on the cliff. Trying to turn towards the voice seemed impossible. It seemed so familiar. Like home. Finally turning, you cried out, the scene changing around you, descending into darkness as the man in front of you blurred into nothing but blue eyes.

-

The alleyway was musty, dirty concrete, and a simple shortcut home. Shuddering, you pulled the jacket closer around your arms. Pepper promised she would pick you up, but she was currently nowhere to be found. Most likely being distracted taking care of her werewolf boyfriend.

Was this a dream?

The air seemed to chill, a shiver running up your spine. Something was following you. This was most definitely your worst idea. Still gaining control of your powers, trying to light up whatever human decided to trail you would be a bad idea. Humans were never kind to witches. Even worse, it could be another creature. Or even crueler. A bloodsucker.

Your feet moved a little quicker, trying to subtle out walk the thing chasing you. A hand grabbed at your arm, slamming you into the brick wall with a squeal. The scent hit you first. A human male. A drunk one at that. You were shaking, words spilling from your lips as you begged to be let go, but the man pushed you further into the wall. A devious smile lit his mouth up, and you held back tears, trying to calm yourself enough to use your powers, and yet that wouldn’t be necessary.

The man was ripped off of you and tossed into the opposing wall of the alley. “Hasn’t anyone told you to pick on someone your own size?” The gruff voice belonged to a man still hidden in the shadows. He wasn’t human.

The human groaned, clutching his head as he attempted to stand. “Don’t interfere,” he slurred, tripping over air as he lunged for you.

The creature caught him first, slamming him into the wall and lifting him off the ground. He scoffed, before chancing a glance towards your cowering frame. “Don’t watch, little one,” he warned. You bit back a cry, closing your eyes, curling in on yourself on the ground. A sick crunch followed by the human’s cries, and you felt your world tumbling down. Your savior was a vampire. Your literal nightmare.

Thump. The man’s corpse fell to the ground and the vampire turned his attention towards you. “What are you doing here this late?” he questioned, wondering who would let the teen out of their sight. He took a breath, almost choking on your scent as he drowned in it. “Little witch?”

Your eyes shot open, and you cried out again as he took a step towards you. Utter terror ran through your veins, and your powers were on the verge of emerging. He raised his hands in a sign of surrender, kneeling to your height on the ground. “I won’t hurt you, little one.” You didn’t seem convinced, and he sighed softly. “Run along, little witch, I’ll make sure there’s no other humans to bother you.” As he stepped into the moonlight, your heart skipped a beat. Red crimson eyes swirled away to bright blue. Electric and icy blue. Utterly enchanting. Hauntingly familiar.

-

You gasped awake, shuddering as you turned to see the clock. It was almost three am. Picking yourself off the bed, you wrapped the blanket around your shoulders. It was a terrible idea, but as you walked out the doors and straight into the woods, the yearning in your chest calling out, you couldn’t help but be pleased by your idea.

It took seconds before a figure jumped off a tree branch, and much to your enjoyment, he stumbled trying to stand up straight. Ignoring how he tripped for now, you looked up towards him. “You were the bloodsucker that saved me when I was younger, weren’t you?” Her curiosity needed to be sated, the knowledge from her dream eating away at her.

“I did tell you not all vampires are evil, little witch, though I do admit, I did not quite recognize you as that teenager until just the other day.” He admitted, tilting his head a bit to the side, amused.

“Why did you do it? Why did you save me?” You took a step closer, electricity started to flow through your veins, emboldening you to confront him.

“You needed help, I helped. It’s not too difficult to come to that conclusion, little witch,” he rolled his eyes, now starting to notice the small sparks of blue and white bouncing off your fingertips.

“You’re not telling me everything. You said you’d protect me, and you can’t do that if you are lying to me!” Shuddering, you pulled the blanket around your shoulders tighter against you as the winds picked up. Your argument was pretty weak, but he was most definitely hiding something.

“What do you want me to say?” He snarled, eyes turning crimson as the winds howled. “I only drink from humans? Or I felt this urgent need to protect whoever’s whimpers I heard in that alley? Or how for the first time in decades I’m starting to remember my human life? Or that I can’t control my feelings whenever I’m even near you despite knowing the fact the Council will want us both dead if they ever find out we are Bound?” He cried out, desperation and anguish laced into his voice.

You soon realized he was only a step away from you, and your own sparks died down the closer he got, his presence had more of a calming effect than Natasha’s powers. The winds thrashed the nearby branches, and yet you couldn’t feel the wind except for the small chill. “Probably the Binding making me feel like this, but… you just seem so familiar. It can’t just be from being Bound, none of the books mentioned it like this,” You murmured, and he only barley heard your words over the wind thanks to his enhanced hearing.

Confusion swirled in your mind, unsure how to connect everything that was going on. As James reached up slowly, cupping your cheek in his palm, you felt the strangest sense of déjà vu. Have you been here before? Why was he always so familiar?

“You feel it too, huh little witch?” he murmured, leaning towards you, trusting in you, leaving himself vulnerable to you.

Ignoring your mother’s voice in your head, you tilted towards his hand, closing your eyes. It felt like home. “I was always taught that vampires were evil, never to be trusted, and yet, you seem like the only thing I can trust in this world, Bucky Barnes,” you confided, relaxing to his touch, the blanket dropping away from your shoulders.

A few realizations hit Bucky one at a time, time seemed to slow around you. Firstly, the necklace that was now exposed and pressed against your collarbone, had a mint leaf charm. His free hand ran across the charm, dread and recognition creeping up his throat, burning him from the inside out. Mint.

Secondly, was the fact he never told you his last name. Sure, you could have researched it, but no one but his small family back at the motel knew his nickname. No one except maybe….

The final realization came when you opened your eyes, the wind and sparks surrounded the two of you, pressed together tenderly, satisfaction settling deep into his bones. He felt a chill run down his spine as he connected the final dot. What was I saying in my vision? You looked up at him with the utmost adoration, the haunting familiarity made him gasp softly. Your eyes had swirled into a different color with your powers surrounding him. You had kaleidoscope eyes.

---

Tags:

Permanent Tags:

@minetticatinwonderland  / @lumar014 / @maniacproffesor / @gollyderek / @nerdy-bookworm-1998 / @avengerstones

Bucky Tags:

@cassandras-musings  / @darkness-doughter / @novaddictx​ / @thedancingnerdmermaid / @mood-pancakes / @gracethegeek9902 / @annavega333 / @ravennightingaleandavatempus / @thelibraryoffanfiction / @sunkissedbarnes​

Blood Bound Tags:

@itz-kira / @rinthehufflepuff / @evilzinblr / @starkrobb​ / @paranoiadestroyah / @misplacedorphan

For a tag, just reply/comment, if I don’t see it, just message me. Tell me what you think! Literally, any comment makes me happy! Like, comment, reblog, interact <3

[aspidenchantress]

 When Witches Let Themselves Burn 

Summary : Cassian Kaialani had a peculiar way of expressing his desire for a meaningful life, and in return, what seemed to be the universally accepted definition of “a meaningful life” was peculiar to him. When Lord Rhysand Sayyadi makes him an offer he can not refuse, he finds himself in the position of playing a very dangerous game of deceit against an opponent that, he will later find out, is above any that he had faced before. With war knocking on Prythian’s door, the masks are harder to take off, and every action can be the cause of a following disaster. Who is Nesta Archeron? And is her cause worth losing not only an enormous amount of money, but also the promise of a tomorrow?

  CHAPTER 1   

  Cassian Kaialani had a peculiar way of expressing his desire for a meaningful life, and in return, what seemed to be the universally accepted definition of “ a meaningful life” was peculiar to him.

  Twisting one of the rings on his left hand, he leaned against the remains of a burn-out building that faced the Sidra River. Night had fallen fast upon the land. No more than a hour ago the sky was painted with hues of red, embodying the kind of pictures that the rich folks would have on their walls. 

  Yet, despite the harsh bite of the wind that he could feel through his tattered cloak and the unforgiving bitterness of the autumn air, Velaris appeared to be in a constant state of movement. He expected that by having to wait in what had been described to him as the “poor district” of the North Capital, he wouldn’t have to put much effort into remaining unnoticed. However, as a sickly woman carrying two hyperactive children passed through the muddy alleyway, he once again had to bow his head and hide his features with his greasy long locks and the stolen feathered bycocket on his head. Muttering and swaying his body in a drunken manner for good measure, he looked like nothing more than a piss-poor bastard.

   Which, he supposed he was, but that wasn’t the point. After all, even some of the wealthiest men in his natal land could pass as stone broke in the City of Starlight.

  The city was a vast, intricate, labyrinth of nosey streets and alleys, the overall ambiance of it being both alien and welcoming to his senses. Somewhere, up high, the stars already twinkled, and the moon shone, and Cassian watched as his breath formed tiny clouds in the crisp air, asking himself for what seemed to be the hundredth time what the hell he was doing. 

  Before he got to chance to start drowning in his incertitude and hopelessness, the clamorous approach of a carriage startled him out of his contemplation. Cassian watched as, in the distance, the people wandering the streets moved to make space for the nobility, gawking at the shiny embroidered clothing covering the horses, and at silver details on the midnight-blue carriage itself.

  A jewel in the dirt.

  Cassian clenched his fists, nails digging into his palm, trying to calm his features into playful boredom. Royalty never ceased to make him want to tear the world apart with his bare bastard hands. However, considering the business he had chosen to take part in, spitting in these people’s faces would not benefit him, nor his cause. 

  The carriage came to a stop in front of him, the old man on the high seat of it keeping a white-knuckled grip on the reins. His grey horseshoe mustache was doing little to hide the way his lips were set in a hard line. Cassian’s interest peaked at the tension in the air. Straightening his spine, he gave the driver a crooked grin, and watched as his top hat almost fell off due to the sharp movement of his head as he looked away from him. Shrugging to himself he focused his attention of the carriage door instead.

  A few seconds passed, in which he could hear muffled voices coming from inside, and then the door  was opened with the grace only one man in Prythian could muster.

  Rhysand Sayyadi lazily stepped out, his high leather boots elegantly avoiding a puddle. Cassian supposed that even the dirt took pity into touching shoes that could feed some unfortunate soul for over a month. 

  He met the challenge in Rhysand’s eyes with one of his own, quirking one eyebrow at the look of feline amusement that overtook his features. Pulling up the collar of his purple coat, Rhysand merely took a step aside, gesturing for Cassian to get inside. After taking a few looks left and right, he did.

  He involuntarily cringed at the velvet-wrapped inside of the coach, though no sooner had the expression settled on his face, when it suddenly shifted into something else. His lips parted slightly at the sight of the woman in front of him. Her hair was a thousand shades of gold that made a completely new mosaic as she flipped it behind her shoulder. Her face was smooth, devoid of any marks of childhood illnesses, creating quite an interesting contrast with the faint scars on her neck and the fire in her brown eyes. Her red mouth shifted into a devious smirk.

  “Now I must admit Rhysand”, she drawled, voice sweet as honey, eyes never leaving Cassian’s , ”that this far from what I expected a high-north Illyrian bandit to look like.” She raised a hand covered in red leather gloves to her chin, tapping lightly.

   Beside him, Rhysand chuckled quietly, leaning towards the low-set table between the seats, and taking an already lit cigar. Turning his head to face the half open window, he inhaled a smoke, eyes firmly set on the night sky.

  “You’ll soon find out, dear cousin, that Cassian here is one of the best men that could help us deal with the mess you so kindly dragged us into.”

  The colour drained from Morrigan’s face, her playful demeanor changing into a grim look. Cassian’s eyes darted between them, maybe a little too eager to see where this conversation was going. There seemed to be a bitter dispute between the two cousins, and hell knew how much of an addict he was for spicy gossip. Not to say royal gossip -it paid well in the taverns, especially in those from the rather underdeveloped cities.   

  An uncomfortable silence followed, Rhysand continuing to look out the window, and Morrigan having spaced out, biting at her lip. 

  In all truth, they looked nothing alike. There was a certain darkness that surrounded Rhysand, which was amplified by his features: short black hair and skin a few shades lighter than his own. Were it not for his violet eyes, Cassian would have immeadetly assumed he was Illyrian too. Morrigan, on the other hand, was sunshine made flesh. The only thing that they appeared to have in common was the taste for the extravagance, Rhysand with his silver embroidered tunic and coat, and Morrigan with her overall red costume, accompanied by a cartwheel hat on top of her head. 

  “Yeah, well,” Cassian began after realising no one was going to fill the silence anytime soon, “ how about you tell me what you want me to do, give me the money, and then part ways with me?”

  The attention suddenly shifted on him, both of them looking at him with raised eyebrows.

  Cassian shrugged. “I have better things to do.”

  Morrigan took a look at his attire and snorted. “I bet.”

  He was about to bite back, when Rhysand interfered.

  “Are you aware of Prythian’s current political situation, Cassian?”

  “No, and I don’t care.” he answered outright. “I am a homeless bastard. Whether you snobs get along or not doesn’t affect my state of being. I get treated like horseshit anyways.”

  Morrigan pursed her lips but made no move to contradict him.

  “Fair point.” Rhysand said. ”Too bad it is a lie.”

  Cassian slowly turned his head towards him and grinned. 

  It was a lie. While his previous statement might have been true, Cassian made it a priority to gather as much information as possible about anything that moved in Prythian and beyond. He was a strategist, it was only logical that he had an obsession of knowing his territory.

  “Then this is about the Vanserras’ downfall.”

   Five months before, a strange movement found its roots all over Prythian. Many people of high social importance had either disappeared or been killed, the only clue left behind being a strange symbol formed out of intricate lines, usually drawn with the victim’s blood. The entire territory entered a state of constant terror, and after the third identical murder, the question changing from Who did this? to When will they strike next? .

  If the information he had received was correct, than there already had been numerous meetings between the seven most important political figures of Prythian regarding this subject. Each one of them making the ties between the seven Territories to be more tense than they had previously been.

  However, it wasn’t until two months ago that everything had truly gone to hell. The murders had continued, but one of them stood out specifically.

  Beron Vanserra.

  Leader of the Autumn Court, had been found dead in his own room, the feared symbol that put Prythian in imbalance adorning the wall above his bed. Not only had the entire nation entered in a crisis, but Lavinia, the Lady herself, had left the territory not even a week after the disastrous event. She found shelter in the Day Court.

  The eldest son, Eris, took the throne, but due to lack of experience, and a stick stuck up his ass, he found himself not being able to calm the raging people. 

   Soon enough, a riot started.

   The economy crumbled to the ground, and the entire Court became a complete war zone. Cassian was lucky to be far up North when everything caught fire.

  Morrigan smacked her lips. “Close. We already have a man for that.”

  “Oh?” He turned towards Rhysand. “But I thought I was . . . what was it? The best man that could take care of your mess?”

  “One of the best. “ was his answer. “ And besides, Saenna Julia is no place for a . . . gentleman such as yourself, Cassian, dear. They would behead you the moment you walked through the gates.” He ended by giving him a side-long glance, daring him to contradict him. Cassian only inclined his head. It’s true. Capitals are no place for him period.

   Rhysand returned the cigar to the table. “That’s why I sent Azriel there.” 

   Cassian choked on air, which caused Morrigan to make an indignant noise followed by a soft curse.

  “Azriel? As in Azriel Takuma? That son of a bitch is working for you?” he growled. He felt his blood freeze in his veins at the thought of that bastard. 

  “Indeed”, Rhysand purred. “But past times are long since buried underneath the ash. Isn’t that what you highwaymen like to live by?”

  He gritted his teeth, scratching his overgrown beard. He and Azriel did not exactly part ways in the most friendly way. Two years before, after an entire summer of working together, managing to rob countless people, and partying like the world was ending, the bastard betrayed him.

After one particular night of heavy drinking, Cassian woke up in the barn they had sneaked in, only to find himself alone. And not only in regard of human companionship, but also robbed of half his belongings. The crime-centered part of his brain made the judgement that at least it wasn’t all of his goods. It did nothing to calm the wave of rage that overtook him, though. Especially after seeing the note that Azriel had left. “I had to do it to you before you did it to me. More prosperity in the future, old man.” 

  And yes, while he was planning on betraying the kid, well . . .  he wouldn’t have done it that soon. He had fun. But all of that was forgotten as he started to throw around everything he could put his hand on in that barn. Throwing pieces of wood, some empty bottles from the night before, and perhaps he would have ended up demolishing the entire place, were it not for the fact that he had just gotten his face off of Wanted posters, and wanted it to remain that way for at least a little longer.

  Two weeks after, his face was already all over Prythian.

  “I like Azriel way better.”, Morrigan muttered, waking him up from his reverie.

  Cassian frowned. “You just met me.”

  She gave him a saccharine smile. “He shaves.”

  Cassian responded in kind. “You’d be surprised by the wonders of a bearded man”, he smirked, adding a wink for good measure.

  “Nothing above basic hygiene.”

  “I’m sorry, princess,”, he snorted, “next time I’ll make sure to stop by that fancy little salon in the middle of the mountains.”

  Rhysand clicked his tongue. “ Enough.”

  “How did you even get him to agree to working with you?” Cassian snapped, unable to help himself.

  “I have a fat wallet.”

  “Which I assume he had tried to steal and that’s how the two of you met.”

   Rhysand chuckled.

  “Indeed. Oddly enough, I frequently find myself in the position of getting robbed by stray dogs that would later end up serving to my purposes. Azriel is a shadow, knows how to blend in.” And how to blend out, Cassian thought. “His skills are going to help me a great deal, and so are yours.”

  “If I’m not going to Saenna Julia, then where?” 

  It was Morrigan who responded, a poisonous smile adorning her face. “ The Archeron Estate.”

  Well, that I did not expect, thought Cassian.

  He looked at Rhysand, to see if she was jocking, but found no trace of amusement in his eyes.

  The Archeron Estate was situated in the Neutral Zone, in the south of Prythian, practically on the other end of the continent, sharing border with the Spring Court. It was a wealthy family indeed, one known especially for the trades they did all over Prythian, and beyond. Gaius Archeron was known as The Prince of Merchants, however the man had died the previous spring due to an ugly infection on his leg. Thus, leaving the Estate, as well as the business, in the hands of his three daughters. 

   “And what reason may you have for wanting me near the Archerons?” Cassian asked intently.

  “How about you take a wild guess?” Rhysand challenged. “Take all the information you have gathered from greasy taverns and muddy alleys and tell me why I should have a pair of eyes watching them.”

  Cassian considered.

  “For starters, there has been a total of zero murders in the Neutral Zone.”

  Rhysand nodded.

  “Their old mad died and yet there seems to be little to no change in their trade pattern. If anything, it seems to have flourished.”

  “Indeed”, Rhysand drawled. “Not only had their trades remained just as good as before Gaius’ death and the Red Murders, but they have added a new partner to their list, too.”

  “Oh?”

  He took a deep breath. “The Archerons are trading with Hybern.”

  Well, if this night wasn’t getting more and more interesting.

  “Well, that’s . . .” Cassian started. “Do you thing Hybern is behind the murders?”

  “Could be.” responded Morrigan, taking off her gloves and revealing that her left hand had the little finger missing. “But we know that among basic goods and services, there had been some rather intriguing chemicals sent back and forth between them. Makes you wonder what use they could be to some twenty-something years old girls.”

  Those little minxes.

  “So I am to be a spy, then, ay?” 

  “Yes”, Rhysand answered. “I need you to be my eyes, and my ears. In one week’s time you will be sent to their Estate, where you will work under the pretense of being a man looking for some money, and willing to be a servant for three pretentious little girls. Half of their domestics workers had left due to either the desire of being with their family during such unfortunate times, or the bitterness and utter coldness of the eldest sister. Therefore, you are going to make yourself as incospicuous as possible, while also gathering as much information as possible, which you will then offer to me. You will get more details about your mission in the week that is to come.”

  “That if I accept.”

  Rhysand blinked. “What?”

  “That if I accept to work with you.” Cassian repeated, a shit-eating grin starting to grow on his face.

  “What’s there not to accept?”

  “Well I don’t know, lordling.” Cassian said studying his dirty nails. “How much are you going to offer?”

  Before Rhysand even got the chance to open his mouth, Morrigan ventured : “One hundred thousand.”

  It was Cassian’s turn to blink. 

  “One hundred thousand zakes?”

  Morrigan bit her lip and said through gritted teeth “Yes.”

  Cassian put his hands behind his head and smiled lazily, despite Morrigan’s warning glare.

  “Two hundred.”

  “Cassian . . .”

 “Two fifty.”

  “Stop it, you bastard,” she hissed.

  “I could do this all day long, princess,” he winked.

  “You’ll get three hundred.” Rhysand interrupted, pining Morrigan with a glare that could freeze hell itself. Cassian made a mental note to look into whatever the two cousins had going on between them.

  “Fine by me”, he answered. “One more question, though.”

  Rhysand raised an eyebrow.

  “Where are we heading right now?’

  The rich folks turned their head towards the window, almost melancholically. 

  “The House of Wind”, said Morrigan. And then giving him an once over. “We’ll first have to make some radical changes regarding your appearance.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because there is no way in hell Nesta Archeron is going to let a vagrant step over her threshold.”

_________________

 comments make my heart happy (｡◕‿◕｡)

[tcmpcral]

that one animal personality quiz

Small to medium size • Attractive • Mischievous • Flirtatious • Conceited • Untrustworthy SCIENTIFIC NAME: Mustela nivalis COLLECTIVE TERM: A sneak of weasels

THE WEASEL PERSONALITY

Weasel personalities are closely related to badgers and skunks and are suave and disarmingly charming. With their quick minds and lithe physiques they might appear to be promising companions, but are notorious for the Machiavellian streak that underscores their personalities.

THE WEASEL PERSONALITY'S MOTIVATIONS

Their behavior is motivated by the fact that they are one of the world's smallest carnivores, and while lions and wolves may be able to afford a direct approach in acquiring resources the smaller personality of the weasel requires more devious tactics. Its survival strategy is based on the manipulation of others and it uses charm as its chief weapon.

Weasels lack the emotional and spiritual maturity found in the larger carnivores. They are masters of chaos and their above average intelligence allows them to think fast on their feet. This is why weasels are attracted to unorthodox environments, where their quick minds are able to take advantage of rapidly changing situations and they'll always emerge with more than their fair share of the booty. They share the same ambitious streak as their cousin the beaver, but their distaste for hard work has them behaving more like their devious skunk relatives.

Weasels will disguise their intelligence when they believe it to be in their best interest. Natural liars, their earnest persuasions make it difficult to discern their true motives. They have no internal moral struggle with their behavior, since they believe that the end justifies the means – which is why weasels are natural politicians.

THE WEASEL'S CAREER APPROACH

Weasels have an uncanny knack of sensing weakness in others and will often team up with more successful animal personalities to gain their trust and milk them for all they're worth. These relationships are completely one sided... taking what they need, the weasel will scuttle off to find its next victim. Weasel lawyers are the essence of what is wrong with the justice system.

Weasels love to be the center of attention and often toy with the idea of becoming professional entertainers. However, their love for the craft is secondary to their love for themselves, so they usually never make it to the top as performers.

WEASELS IN THE WILD

Weasels and their related species are the world's most widespread carnivores. They are extremely adaptable animals and are found throughout Asia, Europe, North America, and Africa.

Rumor has it that a weasel can make itself small enough to pass through a wedding ring. While this is difficult to prove, it has been shown that its skull can be pulled through a one-inch hole.

The weasel is a relentless killer. Courageous out of all proportion to its size, it is able to bring down a full-grown cottontail three times its own weight. Sometimes weasels will follow larger predators, wait for them to make the kill, and then scurry off with a piece of the prey.

The weasel's natural enemies are hawks, foxes, owls, and even domestic cats. Because of its reputation as a chicken killer, man has increasingly contributed to its diminishing numbers.

CAREERS & HOBBIES

Paparazzi  • Reporter •  Politician •  Lawyer Fine clothes • Music  • Adventure films • Photography

LOVE & FRIENDSHIP

Sex is an escape for the weasel, and although it has no shortage of willing partners, it favors connections with its preferred targets: badgers, prairie dogs, and wildcats.

The weasel lover is earnest and attentive and has an uncanny ability to make its partner feel as though he or she were the only person in the world. Its appealing shyness and disarming vulnerability heightens the illusion, but since honesty is an obstacle to its quest for sex, most partners remain unaware of this rascal's true intentions until they've met his wife and kids.

Weasels are suckers for sexiness and have a natural affinity for members of the cat family whose sensual movements and dangerous rhythms drive them crazy. If and when it comes to marriage, it is better suited to the shrew personality who can handle its elusive persona. Since weasels clash terribly with anyone who has the gumption to call them on their conniving ways; rhinos, elephants, and bears should be carefully avoided.

BEST MATES FOR A WEASEL

BABOON    CROCODILE    SHREW

Passionate • Dynamic • Determined • Untamable • Impatient SCIENTIFIC NAME: Equus burchelli COLLECTIVE TERM: A stripe of zebra

THE POWERFUL AND LOYAL ZEBRA

These strong shouldered quadrupeds are closely related to horse personalities, but since zebras evolved in the competitive environment of the African plains, they've developed a tougher exterior and more aggressive demeanor than their more domesticated cousins.

Those that come into contact with the zebra find it to be a powerfully loyal and intelligent friend. Its black and white nature shuns the gray zones of compromise, and its decided idealism is incapable of accepting defeat in an argument. Zebras find it difficult to be punctual when it comes to meeting commitments that have little value to them, and close examination of this trait reveals the subtle arrogance that pervades the zebra's personality.

THE ZEBRA PERSONALITY'S SOCIAL APPROACH

While its behavior might be construed as selfish, the zebra is generally appalled to discover that others may perceive it to be egotistical, because zebras always expect to be given the benefit of the doubt. They are perpetually on the offensive when it comes to setting the record straight with regard to their motives.

Wild and untamable, zebras have quite an aggressive streak and their enormous self-confidence gives them an unusually swaggering gait. Quick to anger, a zebra's temper often gets the better of it and they are considered so volatile that even lion personalities will think twice before accosting them. However, they rarely initiate confrontations, and tend to be peaceable and self-contained if left alone. Zebras have a tendency to view the world in black and white and have a strong sense of right and wrong. Unlike their horse cousins, they are unwilling to be saddled with the burdens of others and insist that everyone carry his or her own weight.

THE ZEBRA PERSONALITY'S CAREER

Once the zebra's mind is made up, it is difficult to shift its position, which explains its reputation for stubbornness. This reputation is somewhat unfounded however, since the zebra's opinions are only formed after deliberate and logical consideration. This analytical thinking primes them for careers in science, engineering, accounting and football refereeing.

Zebras' strong sense of justice makes them ideal for careers in the legal system, including police work or law, while their ability to endure a long race might bring them success in politics. Their love for things tangible makes it unlikely that they'll excel in the arts, and a distaste for physical labor makes zebras largely unsuitable for blue-collar jobs.

ZEBRAS IN THE WILD

Zebras are differentiated from horses and asses by the distinctive stripes on their bodies. Only recently settled was the debate about whether the zebra's stripes are white on black or black on white. (It has black stripes on a white background.)

Zebras are aggressive and protect themselves and their young when attacked. It is only herbivore known to use its teeth as weapons; a kick from its powerful hindquarters is quite capable shattering a lion's jaw.

A species of zebra known as the quagga has a sad story. Hunted into extinction by South African settlers in the mid-1800s, it was not until the last quagga was shot that anyone realized that it was even endangered. Zoos requesting replacement animals were shocked to be informed, "We can't seem to find any."

CAREERS & HOBBIES

Scientist • Accountant• Referee • Lawyer/Judge Basketball • Tennis • Karaoke • Horse-riding

LOVE & FRIENDSHIP

You should never flirt with a zebra unless you mean it. This highly sexual beast is always on the lookout for a causal relationship and even an offhanded encouragement will stampede the zebra's libido into a full gallop. But zebras don't expect sex to provide them with any kind of meaningful relationship; it serves simply as a sensory indulgence to distract them from their busy and competitive lives.

There's no such thing as a wishy-washy relationship with a zebra, and although they have a rather blasé attitude toward sex, they always take their mating duties very seriously. But as a partner, they can prove to be a handful. Compliant enough when it comes to trivial issues, they tend to take unassailable stances on matters of family strategy... where the children go to school, how they are disciplined, and who will handle the purse strings are not issues for debate. The zebra knows best.

The challenge is to find a mate that can equal its intensity and ambition. Few animal personalities meet these standards however, and the zebra's best bet is with the herbivorous sable, horse, and deer personalities. Relationships with traditional rivals, including lions, tigers, and wolves should be avoided.

BEST MATES FOR A ZEBRA

GIRAFFE   HORSE   SABLE

Sensitive • Creative • Paranoid SCIENTIFIC NAME: Sorex araneus COLLECTIVE TERM: A lament of shrews

THE ALWAYS-ON-THE-MOVE SHREW

The diminutive shrew is the archetypal insectivore. Intelligent, thrifty and self-absorbed, it knows how to get what it wants regardless of who stands in its way. Cursed with an overactive metabolism, the shrew is unable to stand still for even a minute. Whether it's picking up the kids, shopping at a garage sale or poking its nose into other people's business, it just keeps going and going. If its outta-my-way attitude provokes resentment from friends, that's just too bad. A shrew's gotta do what a shrew's gotta do.

SHREW PERSONALITIES ARE NOT NATURAL ALTRUISTS

Sharing does not come naturally to shrews and they are typically the last to pay their share at a group dinner. It's not that shrews are greedy... it's rather that they're responding to a compulsive need to save for the future. In this respect they are much like their cousin the mouse personality, who take planning for the future to extremes.

With the conviction that it knows what's best for everyone, shrews are always ready with free advice. They seem to delight in butting into other people's private affairs. Sometimes the shrew turns this hobby into a career as a gossip columnist, movie critic, or TV evangelist, but more often than not, it retains its amateur status and practices on its long-suffering friends.

THE SHREW IN THE WORKPLACE

Because shrews are constantly on the move, careers that require concentration and sober thinking are unsuitable. They perform best in chaotic jobs and thrive on the unpredictability of disorder, making them natural production assistants, circus performers, wedding organizers or emergency room technicians.

Their predilection for collecting and organizing things would also make them good librarians and bookkeepers, while the desire to keep moving makes them suitable for any job requiring travel and creativity.

KEEN SENSES

Shrews' sharp eyes have a knack for spotting the hole in the fence, and with their ability to make instant decisions they impetuously seize the moment and scuttle on through. Their smart mouths and high energy are put good use in the workplace, and they excel as salespeople and journalists, but sometimes their reputation precedes them and they encounter built-in resistance to their pitch even before they've opened their mouths.

SHREWS IN THE WILD

The smallest of all mammals, shrews are pound for pound among the most belligerent creatures on earth. Also extremely nervous and sensitive, they have been rumored to die from the shock of a loud noise. In reality, they are remarkably resilient and are quite capable of handling the stresses of life near the bottom of the food chain.

Shrews live solitary lives among ground litter or in shallow tunnels. Their high-pitched squeaks suggest that they also use ultrasonics for echolocation, although not to the same degree as bats. Because of their high metabolic rates, shrews are constantly on the hunt for food, although basically insectivorous, they eat seeds, snails, worms, and even carrion. Although domestic cats will kill shrews, they will not eat them, perhaps because of the musk glands in each flank that emit a foul odor.

CAREERS & HOBBIES

Journalist • Paramedic • Librarian • Salesperson • Actor Traveling • Computer games • Thrift store shopping

LOVE & FRIENDSHIP

The shrew has an enviable set of bedpost notches, for when it comes to chatting up the opposite sex, they are exceptionally persuasive. They pride themselves on being able to talk anyone into a fling -- especially those torrid encounters of which the shrew is so fond. With no qualms about telling white lies, they have become so adept at these little falsehoods that they're prone to believing in them themselves. With its devilish sense of humor, the shrew will romance you with its witticisms and inspire you with its insights.

There's something about a shrew's sexuality that makes them seem younger than they really are. Perhaps it's their bright eyes, glossy hair, or excess makeup, but more likely it's that high energy level that reminds us of our youth.

A shrew should find a mate that is not threatened by its platonic relationships with its ex-mates. Partners with the tools to handle its bad self are drawn mainly from the insectivore family: porcupines, bats, prairie dogs, and mice, for these animated creatures all appreciate the challenges provided by the shrew's demons of tumult.

Life for a shrew is too brief to waste on failed relationships. The instant its marriage has problems, the shrew simply files for divorce and moves on.

BEST MATES FOR A SHREW

MOUSE   PRAIRIE DOG   WEASEL

[som3thingcr3ative]

Voluspa Part 4

I didn’t realize that I hadn’t posted since part three! I actually have quite a bit more written that I haven’t posted, so that will tide me over until I can write more hopefully. 

Synopsis: Astrid reaches Kattegat, but the complications from her journey catch up to her: Ivar the Boneless is King, and it is he who she must impress. 

Warnings: Slow burn, Ivar, Language, probably will be NSFW eventually, weapons, blood. You know, Vikings. For this chapter, not much warning needed.

PART 1 2 3 4 5 6

Hvardr stops a few hundred feet shy of the gate into Kattegat. I stare up at the battlements and think of the hours of labor put into everything- all for it to be burned down. It’s a waste. 

And I think. I think about how when I was born, I spoke Old Norse before I spoke English- or Danish, or Norwegian, or any of the other languages I’d learned since then. I think about the curse of sight I’ve been given, and I know it will be of use to me here. 

And then I think of the rune stone and the statue, and I know this is where I’m meant to be. 

So when a guard calls out ‘who’s there’ to me, my voice is even and strong when I reply.

“Astrid Seerschild,” I say. “Here on my own behalf to see King Ivar Ragnarsson.”

And the gates open before me.

I ride Hvardr into the marketplace just inside the entrance to Kattegat. Closing my eyes just briefly, I focus on the energies around me and get the lay of the land. A slave comes up to me, looking for reins or a bridle. 

“You won’t find any tack on him,” I say to the young boy. “And so long as you don’t try to put any on him, he will be good to you. Understand?”

He nods, waiting while I dismount. Not once do his eyes meet mine. 

He scrambles to help me unstrap the harness, but I tell him it’s okay. I gather the harness and my two pelt-wrapped bags and stride confidently toward the great hall- even if my gifts did not allow me to find its energy, I would have followed my ears. It is damn near the noisiest building I’ve ever been near, worse even than the bar back home. 

Just as I reach the doors, three large Vikings block my entrance. 

“What do we have here?” One asks, elbowing the man next to him. I set my jaw and stare defiantly up at him, knowing full well what he thinks I am. “Say, slave, did you steal those clothes?”

“I am not a slave.” I state, drawing myself up to full height. The position pulls my coat back just enough to reveal the glint of my sword at my hip. “And you would do well for yourself to move out of my way.” The third Viking moves to grab my face. I duck and counter, my forearm striking the inside of his elbow. I spin, hitting him on the temple with the pommel of one of my hidden daggers. He drops like a stone. “Now move!” I don’t wait for them to respond: I shoulder-check the two blocking my way and open the doors to the great hall.

A slave girl notices me. Her eyes dart to Einar, and she drops the pitcher of ale she was holding. As it shatters on the floor, the entire hall goes silent. She realizes what she did and panic crosses her face at the thought of her punishment. Her eyes cut to the figure lounging on the throne, but his gaze is locked on me.

I keep my eyes forward, ignoring the slave. It is the best thing I can do for her; give her time to clean up and escape unnoticed while the attention is on me. Einar senses my emotions and prowls beside me, his chest puffed out and tail straight behind him. He does not look any Viking in the eye. Einar knows that I will and have always protected him. He has nothing to fear from these people- It is they who should fear him.

The quiet lets me think. I can see the man’s stunning blue eyes tracing my every movement. I can all but feel the brilliant mind behind those eyes working out who I am and why I am here. I know he is King Ivar, if only because of his legs- legs that are wrapped together. He is taller than most Vikings, who are much taller than any man I’d seen. Broad shoulders, massive biceps, powerful and large hands. 

And I know how to play my cards.

“King Ivar Ragnarsson,” I say, choosing to ignore his legs and instead reaffirm his place as his father’s -the legend’s- son. “Conqueror of christians, slayer of Saxons and the one true ruler of the North lands, I am Astrid. I have come to Kattegat to offer my services to you in the war to come.”

I make sure I still have his attention, and then I dip into a curtsy, gracefully bowing my head. The Vikings around us watch. Their energies surround me, fearful, not trusting. No one curtsies, not here in the north. I have shown myself to be an outsider, because that is what I want them to think of me as. 

“What makes you think I need your help?” Ivar says, his voice sending chills down my spine as I straighten up. My gaze locks with his and I take in his posture. He’d moved, leaning just slightly toward me, his shoulders facing mine. Open, listening. Not nearly as defensive as he’d sounded. A truly ingenious move on his part. He wants me to feel fear, to feel desperate, to hesitate and take his bait. 

But I won’t. I know better. “My King,” I say, relaxing my posture just enough to exude calm. “I come from a family well traveled and I know much about the Saxons; their lands, their rulers, their politics and customs. I know their strategies and their plans.” A brief pause gives him time to understand what I said. He leans back just a tiny bit, and I know I’ve spoken well. “Let me show you what I know, Ivar Ragnarsson, and you will have the upper hand.”

The crowd seems to hold their breath. 

“How do I know you aren’t a Saxon spy?” He questions. I smile graciously.

“I give you my word that I was born and bred in the North. I have no sympathy for the Saxons, nor their god. I have been given a great gift by our gods. Allow me to show you.”

Ivar raises an eyebrow, tilting his head. He thinks for a second, and then he nods. 

“Your seer is here, in this room.” I close my eyes and can hear the Vikings mumble among themselves that he isn’t there; they can’t see him. But I can. “Come forward, Seer.”

My energies touch the Seer’s robes and draw him into the light. The Vikings pound their mugs against the tables, yelling that it proves nothing. I open my eyes and smile. “Your half-brother, Bjorn Ironside will burst through those doors in three- two-”

I point at the entrance, just as Bjorn pushes the doors open with such force that they slam against the wall. The Vikings inside are shocked into silence. 

“The gods speak to me and through me, Ivar Ragnarsson. They have called me here to do their bidding; to uphold the Viking way, to allow you to live and thrive in the change that is to come.” I let my voice drop to a more quiet tone. “I know things that no other knows. I have seen things that no Seer could comprehend. I know these things because I am from a long line of gifted family, trained in the arts of our craft. My body and mind are tied to the very ground this place stands on. Without my knowledge, Ivar Ragnarsson, every last Viking will be killed in no less than a century. The Saxons will infiltrate this land and your raids will fail.” My body thrums with the energy around me and I allow it to take over. My eyes go completely white. “Before the century is over, the proud Vikings will have devolved and split into factions of what used to be. With time, the gods will be forgotten. They have sent me to stop this future from happening.”

Turning, I smirk at Bjorn. “On my journey here, Bjorn and ten others burst out of the woods to attack my wolf. When confronted, Bjorn threatened me to no avail. When asked, he tried to send me the wrong way. Or am I lying, Bjorn Ironside?”

“You’re a monster.” Bjorn growls. “And a liar!”

“She speaks the truth,” the seer interjects, his voice like the hissing of a snake. 

My smirk widens. “Now what does that make you, Ironside?”

“You lied to your King, brother.” Ivar quips, seemingly uninterested- but he’s shifted to a better position for me; one that shows he is siding with me instead of the bad blood. His ice-like gaze slices through Bjorn whose eyes cut between me and the king. He’s caught in his own lie, no matter how insignificant. 

“And you haven’t?” Bjorn shouts, his face going red. Ivar leans back, his shoulders still facing me. Dismissing Bjorn’s threat while starting to trust me. 

The king smirks, raising a hand to trace his lips. “And what lie would that be?” He asks. I can see his devious plot; if Bjorn answers, he will incriminate himself. If he denies it, he makes himself a liar twice over. 

The trap slams shut when Bjorn opens his mouth. “You cannot please a woman, and yet you said you could.”

“Ivar Ragnarsson can please a woman, Bjorn.” I snarl, my eyes flashing white. As the color bleeds back into my iris I realize what I said and nearly recoil, fingers finding Einar’s scruff. 

Bjorn looks at me askance, a self-righteous smirk lifting the corner of his lips. “What proof do you have, outsider?” 

His shoulders lift, chest puffs out. He thinks he’s caught me in a lie- am I an outsider who has never been to Kattegat before or am I a liar who has lain with the king? Which is it?

“I have seen it,” I say, raising my chin just a tad. My fingers leave Einar’s fur and relax at my side. No fear. “The gods have shown me.”

“I like this one,” Ivar muses, leaning forward once again, his eyes on me. “You are welcome here, Astrid. So long as your loyalties remain true, you are my honored guest. Welcome to Kattegat.”

Tag: @tis-itheapplepie @thetwistedqueen @inforapound @wuxiesalt @readsalot73 @themusingkitten @youbloodymadgenius All Ivar tag: @amy8220 @sallydelys

[thedeviltohisangel]

You Are My Fire//1//The Way Your Fingers Fit In Mine

Everly Lannister learns the truth of her parentage and Tormund helps her through it.

sexual innuendos

masterlist in bio!

send any requests for these two my way!

Everly sat and stared at the fire as it flickered. There was nothing worse than having your world spun on its head. She felt dirty. She felt like she was wrong. Like no amount of water or soap could ever make her clean again.

She was confused about how she felt white hot with rage at her very core but be shivering in her wash bin. It was the conflict of the old and the new worldview that were crashing together in her soul. Fighting for dominance. Fighting to see who she would be when she stepped out of that tub. 

The rumors about who her father really was had been around for as long as she had been able to hear the whispers. Everly had paid them no mind because the actions they were implying that had taken place were wrong. Immoral. Devious. There was no way her mother and her uncle would have participated in such blasphemous activities. But the more the whispers had persisted, the more she had begun to believe them. Her sister Myrcella had asked her one night if they were true. That she had overheard the Septa mutter something under her breath during a needlepoint session one afternoon. She hadn’t had the heart to tell her it couldn’t possibly be true. Hadn’t had the heart to lie to her.

There was a gentle knock on her door which broke her out of her self-loathing trance and snapped her into her persona  of Princess. Straight back, face stoic and moving with the grace of a lion.

“Come in.” She picked up the bar of soap that she had discarded on the floor and pretended to be busy washing herself. There was risk in ever showing weakness.

“You left the feast before the pudding came out. It’s your favorite.” Everly froze her movements as she saw that it was Tormund who had entered her room. He was holding a bowl of her favorite dessert which he placed on the table that sat in her room. “Didn’t want you to be unhappy that you’d missed it.”

“Tormund.” He stopped in her doorway where he had been ready to leave her be. “Thank you.”

“Of course, Wildflower.” She chuckled.

“I am afraid I no longer deserve such a title.” Tormund had started referring to her as Wildflower after the incident at Hardhome. In the midst of the carnage of the battle he had looked across the landscape and seen her. Amongst the drabness of the dead and the snow and the fur of the Free Folk she had stood in a purple gown. Like a wildflower rising from the barren earth.

“It is not a title, it is what you are.” 

“A wilted wildflower, maybe.” The soap slowed on her leg. “I don’t think I belong in the North. Everyone thinks I am the child of the most evil creatures participating in a sinful act. They will never view me as anything other than a creature meant to be put down.” Everly noticed the glares of the Northmen wherever she went. She was a Lannister. Her mother had raised her to glow but now she was struggling in her attempt to stamp it out.

“They would have quite a difficult time getting through me in order to do so, I can promise you that.” She believed him. In the short time she had known Tormund he had shown he was fiercely loyal and protective. They never discussed it but she knew the man who had tried to grab her ass in the Great Hall the night before received the crooked nose and blackened eye from the ginger in her doorway. “Your arms are very red. Is the water too hot?”

“I have been trying to get clean,” she whispered, “I am afraid that I will never feel clean.” Her fingers gently traced over the red and irritated skin that was inflamed from her harsh scrubbing when she first began her bath.

“Wildflower…” His voice was so soft that she broke. No one had spoken to her with the reverence that Tormund did. Wrapped up in his voice was warmth and safety and everything she had been missing from her life since the death of John Arryn.

“I feel like I am wrong, Tormund.” He knelt down beside the basin and offered her his hand. Everly took it gratefully. There was something comforting with the image of her tiny, manicured hand wrapped up in his dirtied one. Those hands had killed men. Men who had wronged her. They had worked hard to keep him alive and provide for the people he considered his family. They had been cared for by her in the dungeons of Castle Black. Guided her to safety in Hardhome. Reached for her during the Battle of the Bastards. Brought her pudding on this very night.

“No one as beautiful and strong and free as you could ever be wrong.” Tormund was a simple man. To him, Everly was who she was. She was not her mother or her father or any other that had come before her or would come after. She was the woman who made his soul ache. Made his heart break every time she looked sad or lost. Made his blood boil every time she was treated less than the Queen she was.

“Perhaps it is the wine or how soft you look at me and how soft you touch me but-”

“May I please kiss you, Everly?” She nodded and stayed still as he leaned over the edge of the tub and pressed his lips against hers. Tormund moved his hands slowly to cup both of her cheeks, giving her the chance to object before settling there. Her reaction was quite the opposite. Everly leaned forward until the wooden basin was digging into the soft skin of her chest yet she still pushed closer in the hopes she could get more. More of his lips. More of his touch. More of Tormund.

“Close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Please, Tormund.” All he really wanted to do was continue kissing her but he followed her request out of respect. She placed her hand over his eyes for good measure, checked to make sure his beautiful blue eyes were squeezed shut, then quickly stepped out of her bath. Tormund held his breath at the sound of sloshing water and ehr gentle footsteps. They meant she was on full display if he opened his eyes. He does not know a time in his life that required more willpower than keeping his eyes closed did in that moment. Everly quickly grabbed her silk robe from where she had thrown in over her dressing screen and tied it around her waist with shaking hands. “You can open now.” Tormund did so slowly in order to still make sure it was what she wanted and once he did, he was left wondering how she looked more mouthwateringly gorgeous clothed than she had naked.

“That looks very nice on you.” He swallowed thickly as Everly walked over and offered him her hand.

“I thought kissing might be easier without the basin between us.” It was her who took the lead now. Her hands felt like heaven as they cupped the back of his head and guided his lips back to hers. It was easier and it was better. It gave Tormund the opportunity to hold her entire body closely against his. She molded against him easily. His hair was softer than she had imagined it would be. The mere thought made her blush. It was rare she got caught fantasizing about a man. It seemed like such a childish thing to do. But Tormund made her feel like anything but a child.

“I have been thinking about you, like this, since Hardhome.”

“Just since Hardhome?” Everly had been flush with romantic thoughts since one of their very first meetings in the cells of Castle Black.

“For some reason,” he gently tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, “I had viewed you as my enemy back then. It wasn’t until Hardhome that you became my Wildflower.” He knew he had no right to be possessive towards. Had no right to attempt to claim her as his own.

“I know you lost much of your brethren that night at Castle Black, but I couldn’t be happier you chose to invade that night, Tormund Giantsbane.” She smiled up at him. It was her first genuine smile since arriving in Winterfell. All of them that had graced her face since her arrival in the North had been gifted to him. He cherished these gifts more than he would any other.

“And I am thankful you were able to survive your journey from your home.” Everly shook her head.

“It was never my home. Just walls that kept me in and others out. I am still searching for my home.” If she survived the battle with the dead, she was going to make the journey to Casterly Rock and if that didn’t feel like home, maybe Storm’s End would. Anywhere besides King’s Landing. Anywhere she might welcomed. “Will you show me yours when this is all over?” Instead of answering, Tormund pulled her back against him with such ferocity that her toes her left dragging against the ground in her attempt to match him. Everly settled for resting her feet on top of his but it still didn’t feel close enough.

“Do you trust me?” She nodded and he began to slowly walk her backwards until they landed on the bed. 

“Now height is not an issue,” she breathed with a laugh as she used the new equality to take control of their kiss.  Her legs fell open to accommodate him in between and she pulled away with a gasp as his groin rutted against hers by accident. “Tormund.” His eyes snapped up to hers at the breathy moan of his name.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t-” He thought he had ruined everything. He had taken it too far. Had taken advantage of her willingness to be open with him.

“Do not apologize. It felt...it felt good. So good.” She had coaxed such sensations from between her legs with her own fingers before. But she had never had a man, much less one she cared for, elicit them. It felt different. But right. Everything with Tormund felt right. She was not scared of him the way she had been other men. He never puffed his chest in an attempt to intimidate her. He gave her the power in their relationship, whatever the status of it was, and showed her more respect than any supposed cultured man had.

“Maybe-” Tormund’s proposition was cut off by a knocking at the door.

“Everly, I am sorry about what happened at the feast. Please let me in.” It was Jon. Before she even had time to react, Tormund was removing himself from the bed and making his way towards the door. “Listen, I-Tormund?” Jon peeked around him to see Everly lying in bed in just her robe, her hair slightly mussed and her cheeks burning red. 

“I appreciate the visit, Jon, I really do. I am feeling much better now than I did at dinner.” Jon looked to the ginger man with a narrowed gaze.

“Tormund.” It sounded like a warning. Jon didn’t have romantic feelings for the Lannister woman but felt he had adopted her as a sister. He felt protective of her and knew the love Tormund had for women.

“We are just kissing, crow.” Tormund smiled at the little giggle that fell from Everly’s lips at his confession. 

“Goodnight, Jon. I will see you tomorrow for our archery lesson.” 

“I’d tell you to stay warm but…” Jon left before he could finish his quip, the door slamming as soon as he turned away.

“You’re taking weapons lessons with that one?”

“Just archery. Perhaps you could show me what it is that you know.” Tormund quirked up an eyebrow.

“Oh don’t worry, Wildflower. We have forever for that.”

[clumsydarknut]

Sleeping Beauty

A Linked Universe fluff one-shot for Hyrule Week 2019

“Your Zelda is super nice, Sky!” Wind sang giddily. Sky smiled and put a hand to the back of his neck. The crew had just finished their visit to Sky’s small cottage. When they had found themselves in this Hyrule at the beginning of ages, the man had been ecstatic. They’d been on their journeyings for almost two months now, and it was clear to see that the Skyloftian had sorely missed his princess.

Hyrule could relate to that sentiment. But he also wasn’t too keen on subjecting the group to his monster-ridden kingdom – or subjecting himself either – so he tried to quell his heartache.

“She reminded me a lot of Mipha,” Wild hummed.

“Mipha?” Legend laughed. “That fish girl?”

Wild scowled. “She’s was a Zora Princess. And a badass.”

Sky tilted his head. “’Was’?”

The mood of the group suddenly turned somber, the heroes coming to a halt, as Wild dropped his gaze to the forest floor. Legend’s eyes went as wide as saucers.

“She’s gone now.” Wild’s voice was slow and soft. “I don’t even remember her that well. But I know that she loved me a lot. I don’t remember if I loved her back, but she was kind, and smart, and amazing with a trident.” He gave a small sigh, and lifted his head to meet Sky’s gaze. “But it’s okay. It was really nice to meet your Zelda and be reminded of Mipha’s grace.”

Sky smiled. “I’m glad.”

“What about your Zelda, Wild?” Warriors asked. “We haven’t met her yet. What’s she like?”

Wild’s face broke into a devious grin. “Let’s just say her intellect is bigger than your ego.”

Raucous laugher filled the clearing where they had stopped, Warriors’ mouth dropping open for an appalled glare. As the somber mood vanished, they began walking again.

“You’ve got a Zelda, too, right Warriors?” Wind added cheerfully.

“I do,” he conceded, “A warrior queen if there ever was one. She’s quite the tactician.”

“You don’t sound like you’re smitten like our Cloudtop Boy over here,” Legend smirked.

Warriors stretched, clasping his hands behind his head. “She’s amazing, and undisputedly beautiful, but I haven’t decided what I feel yet.”

“But you feel something?” Twilight thought aloud.

“Something would definitely be the right word,” Warriors chuckled. “What about you? Got a girl back home? When we were in your Hyrule it didn’t seem like you and the princess were involved with each other much.”

Twilight gave a pained smile. “I honestly don’t know.”

“Don’t know?” Wind started. “How can you not know?”

“She went back to her realm before ‘feelings’ ever came up, and there’s no way to get there now. Not that I’ve found, anyway.” He sighed. “But she was incredible. Strong, smart, beautiful, and just the right amount of sassy. And a princess of her own kingdom to boot.”

“She sounds like Tetra,” Wind nodded.

“A princess of her own kingdom…?” Warriors screwed his face into a focused frown. “Wait, does she have orange hair?”

Twilight gave a start. “Yes, why?”

Warriors’ concentration turned into a grin. “Midna.”

Twilight inhaled so sharply he choked on his breath. “H-how do you know her name?”

“I’ve met her,” Warriors laughed in disbelief. “The Twilight Realm, right? That’s where you get your name from, isn’t it?”

“Y-yeah it is,” he sputtered, putting a hand to his head. “You mean to say that… that maybe…?”

Warriors nodded. Hyrule laughed jovially with the others as Twilight’s face beamed with a shocked but renewed hope.

“Looks like you might just get your happy ending after all, pup,” Time said, ruffling the man’s hair with a smirk.

“Like you did?” Four added. “You and Malon click better than any pair I’ve met.”

Time laughed. “It helps that she didn’t spurn me immediately like the princess did.” He smiled softly at his boots. “The princess was beautiful, but I’ve had lifetimes to fall in love with Malon, and I do it all over again every single day.”

“That sounds like a fantastic happy ending,” Hyrule mused.

“What about you, ‘Rule?” Legend clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve got two Zeldas, don’t you?”

Hyrule was half-hoping they wouldn’t ask for the sake of his throbbing heart, but wasn’t surprised that they did. Now that the gates were open, he wasn’t going to resist the emotions any further.

“Queen Zelda and I don’t interact much since I saved her,” he began, “but Zelda the First is a different story.”

“Zelda the First?” Wind puzzled. “Wait, I’m confused, why do you have two Zeldas again? And which is which?”

Hyrule chuckled thoughtfully. “When I was 12 I rescued the then-princess from Ganon, much like the rest of you did. She returned to her rule and became Queen not long after – she’s almost ten years older than me, after all. But when I turned 16? That’s when things got hairy.”

“Aren’t you only 18 now?” Time chuckled.

“Yeah, or somewhere around there.” Hyrule didn’t notice the others rolling their eyes. “Anyway, some things happened and Impa took me to the North Castle, where she told me the Legend of Zelda. Apparently, maybe like a century before my time, one of the kings of Hyrule didn’t want his corrupt son to become a tyrant with the complete Triforce, so he hid the Triforce of Courage away and only told his daughter, Zelda, where it was. The prince didn’t like that and had his advisor try and weasel it out of her with magic, but she wouldn’t give in. The wizard ended up casting an eternal sleeping curse on her before promptly kicking the bucket, so there was no way to wake her up.”

The party had come to a halt yet again, all eyes glued on Hyrule. As he continued, he felt his emotions swelling in his chest.

“The prince sealed her away in the castle in the hopes that one day, someone would retrieve the Triforce of Courage and use it to break the curse.” He clasped his left hand with his right. “I knew I had to find it, not just for the princess, but for the kingdom. Hyrule needed a complete Triforce to rebuild. But before I could go, Impa took me to the Chamber of the Princess.”

Hyrule could remember that moment as if it were happening as he spoke. The doors of the sealed chamber slid open, light cascading through the intricate skylight in rays of blue and white. In the center of the room, a stone pedestal stood, the legends of heroes past carved into the base with stunning precision. On the pedestal lay a girl not much older than himself, her delicate frame clad in a layered silk gown of pinks and whites. Her sunny, auburn curls draped elegantly over her shoulders and across the cold marble. Time had stood still in that moment, and something beautiful had begun in his heart.

“Things changed for me after that,” he continued, closing his eyes with a soft smile. “The kingdom was important, but she was always in my thoughts. Every fight, every puzzle, every dream… she was there. And when I finally succeeded, I…”

He trailed off, reliving his most treasured memory as his heart threatened to burst. Her eyes had fluttered open as she took her first breath in decades. He’d watched in open-mouthed awe as she awoke, rising slowly and shakily from her bed of stone, dazedly coming to her senses, and eventually meeting his gaze. Blue eyes. He’d seen those blue eyes in his sleep, peering at him pleadingly. And now, those eyes met his own with a shimmer of gratitude.

“She knew who I was when she awoke,” he said softly. “She had watched my journey from her dreams, and she tried to rush to me the moment she got to her feet. I don’t think she realized she might not be able to walk just yet.” He chuckled. “I caught her as she stumbled, and…”

The feel of her in his arms flooded his mind and his eyes slid closed once again. So delicate, so beautiful, her weakened frame trembling in his embrace. She’d sobbed into his chest as he held her close, tears pricking at his eyes. When the drops finally fell, they mingled with hers – tears of joy.

You’ve saved Hyrule, she had said. You’re a hero.

He’d grinned. I did it to save you.

Her delicate hands had cupped his jaw, her overwhelming gratitude pouring from her heart right into his, as she pulled him into a kiss.

And that – that was something too special to share.

“Sounds like you’ve found your happy ending, too,” Sky sang pleasantly. He sighed, gazing up at the clouds in contentment. “Will we get to meet her? If we end up in your time?”

Hyrule put a hand to his pouch. Inside, he felt a small, square lump. His heart swelled.

“Definitely.”

[lilacmoon83]

Dreaming Out Loud

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 125: An Untold Story

As they entered the tavern, they looked around and saw many different types of people. There were what looked like Vikings at the dart board, a pair in a booth in clothing that suggested they might have been from Agrabah, and even a few people dressed in clothing generally found in the Land Without Magic.

Behind the bar was an olive skinned man, who eyed them knowingly and tossed the towel he was wiping the bar with away.

"Well...this is something. It's not everyday that the Supreme Goddess visits my humble little Tavern," Aesop said.

"It's been a long time, Aesop," Persephone greeted.

"Your Majesties," he said, bowing to all of them, except Van Helsing.

"You've been scarce lately, Van Helsing," he mentioned.

"Yes, well Transylvania is a shit hole. The bloodsuckers keep me busy," he said, as he sat down at the bar.

"I'll take some of that special brew you make though," he said, as Aesop poured him a very big glass of ale.

"We're not here to drink," Persephone chided, as Van Helsing began to down the large mug.

"She's right...we're here to pay a visit to Dr. Jekyll. One I doubt he'll enjoy," Hades added.

"I feel that we can do both," Van Helsing replied, as he continued to drink and Hades rolled his eyes.

"You are useless," he argued.

"Oh that's rich coming from you, blue hair," he quipped.

"Speak of the Devil," Aesop commented, as a bespectacled gentleman came into the tavern. Hades gave him a look for that comment.

"Sorry...bad joke," he offered, as they turned to observe the man.

"So that's him? Dr. Jekyll?" Emma asked.

"Don't let his appearance fool you...he's barking mad," Van Helsing said, as he concealed himself so as to not spook the doctor right away.

"Dr. Jekyll…" Persephone called, as the doctor approached curiously.

"Yes...to whom am I speaking?" he questioned.

"Persephone," she said.

"And Hades," he added. The doctor looked quite intrigued by that.

"It's not often the Gods of Olympus bother with this land...especially since they like to pretend that it doesn't exist," he commented.

"To what do we owe such a privilege?" he questioned.

"We have much to discuss, doctor and we are here to give you a firm cease and desist warning," she said.

"Cease and desist? I'm not sure what you mean?" he asked, playing dumb.

"Cut the mild mannered, well meaning act, doctor. We are well acquainted with your work and that you and Hyde have been making visits to the Land Without Magic," Hades replied. The doctor's well meaning smile changed instantly to a more devious smirk.

"The authorities in New York are generally overwhelmed with work. They'll hardly notice a few missing homeless people and prostitutes. In a way, you could even argue that I'm helping to clean up their streets," he said, causing Snow to gasp in alarm.

"Who are you friends?" Jekyll inquired.

"Never mind them...they are none of your concern," Persephone warned.

"Forget they exist if you know what's good for you," Hades added.

"Interesting...that must mean family," he said, as he looked between Snow and Persephone.

"Oh yes...the resemblance is quite striking. It is easy to see where your daughter gets her incredible, fair beauty," he mused.

"A Demi-Goddess…" he said, as he looked at Snow and then Emma.

"Two Demi-Goddesses, I assume," he stated, as David put his arms around Snow and made a point to put himself in front of his wife and daughter.

"Demi-Goddess blood...now that would be fascinating to experiment with," he commented, nearly causing David to launch himself at the doctor, but he was stalled when Van Helsing made his presence known. But the doctor seemed unfazed.

"You really should be more discreet, monster hunter. I've known you were here since the moment you entered this realm," he said. David turned to Aesop.

"Did you tell him?" he questioned.

"A little accusatory, Prince Charming…" Aesop retorted.

"I didn't tell you who I was," David countered, but the other man only smirked.

"I was the author at one time. I'm still familiar with all the realms of story, especially yours and your lovely Snow White's. It is one of the most prominent, though many other mainstream authors have gotten your story quite wrong," he mentioned.

"But as they have since their family stole the authorship from me, the Grimms got the honor of recording the real story of Snow White and Prince Charming; the tale of a legendary true love above all others," he added.

"Wow...bitter much?" Emma taunted and he smirked.

"And then there is the Savior. Another epic I was deprived of writing. The product of this true and legendary love that would break the Evil Queen's dark curse and save an entire population of damned people," he regaled.

"But I started it all. I paved the way for those authors...for entire Grimm family, only for them to toss me aside and bar me from ever picking up a pen again," he added.

"Yep...that's a lot of bitter," Emma commented.

"History even doubts my existence and all because the Grimm brothers wanted the glory," he added.

"We're sorry that happened to you, but this man is killing people and might be endangering everyone in our Kingdom and many others," Snow interjected.

"Not my problem, Princess," Aesop retorted.

"It will be if you help this monster again," Van Helsing said, as he prodded Jekyll forward.

"Come along doctor...time to release all the poor people trapped in your asylum," he said, as they followed him. But they missed the smirk on Jekyll's face, as he led them there.

~*~

The agents looked around the diner, seemingly confused by how normal it seemed. Neal stood up, motioning his son to stay with his great grandfather.

"Can I help you?" he asked, showing his badge on his hip.

"Law enforcement?" the woman asked.

"Deputy Cassidy," he introduced himself.

"Deputy...is there a Sheriff around?" she asked.

"Out of town," he replied.

"Then I guess you'll have to do," she said, as she flashed her badge.

"Supervising Special Agent Julia Isaac with the Federal Bureau of Investigation," she said.

"These are agents Mason, Cade, O'Bryan, and Quinn," she added.

"What can I do for you?" Neal asked, playing it cool.

"You can give us access to your criminal files. We're here to reopen the murder investigation into Kurt Flynn," she replied.

"Kurt Flynn...doesn't ring a bell," Neal replied.

"That's not surprising, given that it's a thirty-year-old cold case. But you do have Kurt Flynn's son in your custody and another man that broke this case wide open. We need to interview them too," she said, as she produced a warrant.

"This is a warrant for the seizure of your entire database," she said.

"I can take you to the station...just need to make a call really quick," Neal replied. She smirked.

"So you can have someone get rid of the files we want? I don't think so. You're going to lead us to the police station and you can do it in cuffs if you'd like," she threatened.

"Go…" Eli urged, as Henry ran out of the diner.

"Stop that boy!" she called, as two of her agents chased after him, while Eli and Neal were cuffed.

"So that's it...you just walk into town and take over? Is that warrant even real? Neal questioned.

"We're looking at castles and we saw a flying unicorn on the way here. Does it really matter if it's real?" she countered. Neal scoffed.

"That wasn't a unicorn. They have horns. Only a Pegasus flies. Get your facts straight," Neal joked.

"Cute...but will you be so smug when my agents catch up to your son?" she asked.

"He's a kid, but underestimating my son would be pretty stupid," Neal answered, as they were marched to the station.

"So you're Neal Cassidy, which is definitely an alias. So who are you?" agent Quinn asked. Eli smirked.

"I am Your Majesty King Elijah," he answered.

"Another comedian...that's fine. You'll be singing another song soon when you see what you're facing," Quinn stated.

"And exactly what is my crime? And I wasn't joking about the King thing. My castle is the one farthest north of here," he retorted.

"This is all insane," O'Bryan commented.

"Yeah...you have no idea how in over your heads you really are," Neal warned, as they approached the station. He could only hope that Henry found Regina before those other two agents caught up to him.

~*~

They followed a captive Jekyll onto the grounds of the Asylum, which was a dreary building surrounded by an attractive garden.

"How many people do you have locked up here?" Snow questioned.

"Most of my cells are full. But many are transients or mentally ill patients. To those that society has forgotten...I have given purpose," Jekyll claimed.

"Purpose? They're people you have locked up! You're killing them!" Snow shouted.

"I should have known that your daughter would be the bleeding heart type, Your Majesty," Jekyll commented.

"Take care how you speak of our daughter," Hades warned.

"Our daughter...isn't she the child that your wife conceived with a mortal prince?" The doctor questioned.

"Papa Hades is as much my father as my biological father is," Snow interjected, making him chuckle.

"Papa Hades...now that is amusing," Jekyll said.

"Yeah...keep laughing at my wife and you'll have done your last experiment," David warned.

"The great monster hunter, Van Helsing, hasn't been able to kill me yet. Do you really think you can, Prince Charming, is it?" He retorted.

"Do you really want to find out?" David growled in return.

"Charming...is that really your name? A little narcissistic to call yourself that, isn't it?" He goaded.

"If you must know, I gave him that name and he most certainly lives up to it in every way," Snow insisted, as they went inside the facility.

"Okay...let's start by releasing all these people and then you'll take us to the place you keep meeting the Dragon," Persephone said.

"Oh, I think not," Jekyll responded, as a high-pitched sonic wave blared from the intercom. He seemed impervious to it, but the rest of them covered their ears in pain and promptly lost consciousness. Jekyll removed some specialized, tiny pads from his ears, as Mr. Poole approached.

"Thank you Mr. Poole. Please put Persephone, her husband, and the monster hunter in a magic dampening cell," Jekyll ordered.

"And the other three?" He asked. He smirked.

"Oh, they are quite interesting. Bring them to my lab," he replied.

~*~

Henry ran as fast as he could through the woods, weaving around trees and cried out, as he tripped over a branch that was sticking out of the ground. He fell down, but then scrambled to his feet, intending to keep running. But the two agents caught up to him and cornered him.

"Easy kid...we just want to talk," agent Mason said.

"Yeah right...you just arrested my dad and he didn't do anything!" Henry cried.

"Actually, I put your dad's name into the database and he's a wanted man. His name popped up in Phoenix and Portland for grand larceny. Looks like he's been dodging the authorities for years," Agent Cade said. Henry looked fearful at that. Not only were they here to take one of his moms, but possibly his dad too.

"Come on kid, let's get you to the station too. You can at least say goodbye to him," agent Mason said, but a growling halted him in his tracks, as a giant wolf blocked his path to Henry.

"Oh my God...shoot it!" agent Cade cried. The wolf snarled and Henry hopped on Red's back, as she took off with him, even as the agents fired their bullets uselessly.

"I've never seen a wolf that big before," Cade mentioned.

"Let's get to the station," Mason said.

"Agent Isaac won't be happy that we lost the kid," Cade replied. He snorted.

"Yeah, well we're both lucky we didn't just get mauled by that wolf," he answered.

~*~

Snow mewled gently, as she opened her bleary eyes. She looked around and quickly noticed that her arms and legs were being held in place with restraints.

"Ah...you're awake," Jekyll said, as he approached.

"Let us go!" Snow cried, as she saw that her husband and her daughter were both in the same type of position she was.

"Oh, I'm afraid not, Princess Snow," he said.

"Queen Snow," she corrected.

"The last few hours of research and exams have been quite enthralling," he said, as she then noticed the machine that was in front of her husband, showing an x-ray of his chest and it was quite clear to see that he only had half a heart.

"Half a heart in his chest and half a heart in yours," Jekyll said, as she noticed the same type of device in front of her.

"Even in fairy tales, I never imagined something so fantastical could be possible," Jekyll mentioned.

"Well it is, but it is nothing scientific for you to study. It's true love," she refuted.

"True love...true love that produced this young woman," Jekyll said, as he referred to Emma.

"The resemblance between her and the both of you is quite obvious, but I wasn't sure it could possibly be so since she looks the same age. But the blood tests confirmed it. She is yours," Jekyll said.

"You didn't need a blood test for that, four eyes. You could have just asked," Emma grumbled, as she woke up.

"Emma…" Snow called, as her daughter tried to get her bearings.

"What the hell…" David growled, as he came to as well and found himself restrained.

"Charming…" Snow whimpered, as he looked at her.

"Snow…" he said, as he looked at the doctor.

"Are you okay?" he asked. She nodded.

"What do you want?" he demanded to know.

"Relax, Your Highness...I am almost finished with my examinations," Jekyll replied.

"The blood samples I took were quite fascinating," he continued.

"I expected the samples to be extraordinary, because of the Demi-Goddess blood, but I found his quite fascinating as well. There is an extraordinary quality to it as well, something I've never quite seen," he mentioned.

"And it's in your daughter's too," he added.

"Because of that...I have determined that she is the perfect candidate to test my serum on," Jekyll stated.

"Like hell…" David growled, as he pulled at the restraints with all his might.

"Your serum?" Snow asked with trepidation.

"Yes...so far, my serum has failed to complete the separation between a person's good side and their dark side. But I believe your daughter, due to her lineage and this strange anomaly in her blood, that she may be strong enough to survive it," Jekyll replied.

"Survive? You have tested others and they didn't survive?!" Snow exclaimed, as she started to panic.

"I'm afraid so...but you have nothing to worry about. I'm sure if anyone can survive, it would be the Savior," he said.

"You sick psychopath! We're not letting you test your insane serum on our daughter!" Charming cried, as he pulled on the restraints with all his might.

"Oh, I'm afraid that I'm going to do just that and there is nary a thing you can do about it, Charming," Jekyll responded, as he readied a syringe.

"Mom...dad…" Emma said, as she looked at them and a tear slipped down her cheek.

"I love you…" she said, clearly scared beyond belief at what was facing her. Snow began to sob and fruitlessly tried to get free.

"Emma…" she cried.

"Please don't do this! She's our baby...please!" she pleaded to the cold, unfeeling monster of a doctor, but her begging was paid no mind. David struggled desperately with the restraints and Snow's cries pierced his heart.

"Please! Please no!" she cried for their daughter, as the doctor approached her. Charming felt the fire coursing through his veins and as much as he had been leery of it up until now, he gave himself over to it and his arms glowed red, as he literally burned his way through the restraints.

"How did you…" Jekyll started to say, but he was cut off, as David punched him in the face, breaking his nose on contact. He cried out in pain and fell to the floor.

"Curse you…" Jekyll seethed, as the syringe lay broken on the floor and he glared up at the prince. David ignored him and undid Emma's restraints, as she hugged him tightly, before they both scrambled to undo Snow's.

"Mr. Poole!" Jekyll called, as the large man entered the lab and stood menacingly in the doorway. David cut him off, as he barreled toward them and ducked his large fist, before landing one of his own in the other man's gut. They traded blows and David ducked another jab to the face, taking the opportunity to punch him in the jaw. Mr. Poole hissed in pain and touched his chin, feeling that there was burned skin left by the prince's fist. He looked at him questioningly, before charging again. David was ready though and threw him over his shoulder. Mr. Poole went crashing into the doctor's lab table and equipment, including the large beaker that held all of the existing serum.

"NOOO!" Jekyll cried in horror, as he glared murderously at the prince.

"Do you know what you've just done?!" he screamed.

"That was years of work, you foolish brute!" he cried.

"That was all the serum I had in existence!" he ranted.

"Good...then maybe it will stop you from hurting anymore innocent people!" David shouted back, as the Doctor tried desperately to scoop some of the existing serum up into an empty vial, but it was a futile effort.

"You're going to pay for this, Prince Charming!" he screamed, as they noticed that a small fire had started, thanks to the Bunsen burner being upturned and making contact with the various liquids that now stained the floor.

"We need to find your parents and Van Helsing and get out of here," David said, as he ushered them toward the exit of the lab.

"Stop them Mr. Poole!" he cried. Unfortunately for them, they did not see that the fire had spread to the medical equipment present and the oxygen tank ignited, sending a plume of fire through the room. David pushed the three of them through the door and they escaped the flames. But Jekyll and his cohort were not so lucky and they both cried out, as they were caught in the inferno that was now the lab. Snow gasped and turned away from the sight. Mr. Poole was completely engulfed and the poor man's cries slowly dissipated, as he perished. Jekyll growled and tried to crawl toward them. He had suffered burns on his face and body, but was still very much alive at the moment.

"This isn't over…" he growled, as he cried out and started to convulse. They watched in horror, as he changed into someone else, who they could only assume was Mr. Hyde.

"Run...we need to get everyone out of here, before this whole place goes up!" David cried, as he ushered his wife and daughter forward. They hurried through the corridors, as an insane and badly burned Hyde chased them.

"Snow!" Persephone called, as they rounded the corner and entered the cell block.

"Mom!" she called, as Emma tried to use magic on the lock.

"This is a magic dampening cell," Hades said, as they realized it wouldn't work.

"Maybe we can melt our way through, like you did with the restraints," Emma said to her father, as they both put their hands on the bars and began to do so. Van Helsing smirked.

"You're both learning fast...that's good," he said, as he looked up to see a deranged Hyde coming at them.

"Whoa...what the hell happened to him?" he asked.

"An oxygen tank exploded on him," Emma replied, as they melted enough of the metal away for the three of them to slip through. The rest of the cells were not dampened by magic, so Persephone and Hades used their magic to snap the locks on all the cells.

"Everyone out! This whole place is about to go up!" Hades called, as they started filing people toward the exit.

"Get them out of here...I'll get the rest with magic," Hades told his son-in-law. David nodded, as grabbed Snow and Emma's hands, before leading them out.

Within a matter of minutes, the entire asylum was completely engulfed, but luckily they had gotten everyone out, with the exception of Hyde.

"Oh Snow…" Persephone gushed, as she hugged her daughter, son-in-law, and granddaughter.

"Do you think he survived?" Snow asked with trepidation.

"It's hard to say. Even Jekyll and Hyde have their limits, but since he was Hyde, I wouldn't count him out just yet," Van Helsing replied.

"He was going to test his serum on Emma," she said fearfully, but then put her arms around her husband.

"But then Dad saved me. He burned his way right through the restraints," Emma said, with pride and Snow kissed him passionately.

"We need to relocate these people and then find where this Order that the Dragon is working with so we can shut them down," Hades said.

"Uh...most of these people are from the Land Without Magic," Emma whispered.

"And Jekyll said most of them are homeless," Snow added. Persephone nodded.

"Can any of you show us where you were taken from when we get to New York?" she asked.

"I...I think I can," one young woman said.

"But who are you people?" she asked.

"That's a very complicated story, but just know that we're going to return to New York and you'll all have beds to sleep in tonight," Persephone answered.

"What about all this stuff we've seen? Who the hell is going to believe any of this?" a man asked.

"No one and trust us, it's best that way," Hades replied, as his wife used a key to open a portal to the Land Without Magic.

After they left, a badly burned and injured Hyde crawled from the burning building. He yelled out a blood curdling scream of rage and agony, promising that he was not done and he would seek revenge...

[tae-kemyhand]

Tony. (SF9 - Rowoon)

The incident of Eva Martin and Tony, the cat.

Summary: In which the mysterious garden cat is more than just that.

Characters: Rowoon of SF9 as Tony & Eva Martin (OC)

Word count: roughly 1700

Warnings: none.

Genre: comedy, romance

There is a cat who often intrudes into my garden. Nightly black with endearing white socks and striking blue eyes. He enjoys lounging on the steady branches of my apple tree, his long body resting on the rough brown bark and his legs hanging in mid-air. We do not interact. I merely observe him as he swats away at the flies and butterflies who dare to disturb his slumber. On hot summer evenings, I leave out some spring water and his crystal eyes, although expressionless most of the time, showing slight gratitude as he sips out of the white plastic bowl. I do not know the name of this cat, but I have decided to name him Tony, after a childhood pet. He is not my cat, and I am not his owner. He bears no collar and no home address. He is merely a regular visitor who often intrudes into my garden.

"Eva, thank you for lunch! See you at the office tomorrow." The echoing voice of my co-worker bounced off the walls of my empty cottage, a house which belonged to my grandparents and had been passed down to their only grandchild. It was resident of a pleasant little village located outside of the hustle and bustle of the capital but close enough to a train station that it was easy to get to work. It had two, good-sized rooms and a traditional, white tiled bathroom with a bathtub and shower. The centre of this old house, however, was the adjoined kitchen and living room whose floors were covered by large, square terracotta tiles and off-white walls, furnished with two, two-seater sofas and a mahogany coffee table all over a thick, cream woollen rug. The garden at the back of the rustic country kitchen wasn't extravagant, probably about forty square meters and accommodated a century-old apple tree that had been planted when my great-grandfather had been born. Red rose bushes grew by the western fence and dusty pink peonies at the eastern. A small patio stretched from one end to the other, and lush green grass covered the rest.

I, as the only resident of the little cottage, was entrusted with the duty of taking care of grandma's precious flowers for she- may she rest in peace- was no longer able to and my mother who lived five hours north was in no position to, either. It was a somewhat relaxing task that was taken up at the end of a long week of filing and stamping paperwork, and after tending to the buds that came at the beginning of spring, a cup of warm peppermint tea was to be had from the sprouts that grew in the herb patch. Tony would often perch on the roof of the navy and scarlet cat house I had bought impulsively while browsing the aisles of Lidl. He sat as if it were his throne and the garden was his kingdom, and I, who found his regality quite amusing, was a mere servant who cleaned his lavish palace. That was a quality I particularly admired about this mysterious cat. His manner of being still and watching life go about its business and small events unravel was a virtue that I -from what I had lived and experienced in my 27 years of life- could never conquer.

It is as I was trimming the stray and dry branches of my darling apple tree that I heard a sharp cry resounding from the rose bushes and a quick black flash dart toward the foot of my ladder. As I climbed down the worn wooden pegs, Tony cowered at the foot of the tree hissing quietly and recoiling as my hands stretched to him. His front right leg was elevated, and spots of blood stained his white sock- he had gotten a thorn stuck in his paw. I stepped back inside the house rummaging through the kitchen draws to find the first aid kit that always disappeared when I most needed it. The poor cat was still unable to move when I returned. He allowed himself to be gently picked up and placed on my lap as I sterilised the wound and prepared the tweezers to take out a rather thick thorn that had embedded itself in between the pads of his toes.

"Okay, here we go." I stroked his head lightly and held onto his paw. When the tweezers touched the thorn, there was no reaction. When it was pulled out, however, the free mitt that rested on my arm sunk its claws deep into my skin, and I jumped in pain, throwing Tony against the thick, solid trunk of the tree and with a sickening thud he flopped to the ground, as still as a mouse.

"Oh, Tony! Did I kill him? Why isn't he moving?" I clutched at the wound on my arm and watched quietly, anticipating at least the twitch of an ear to confirm that I had not murdered the only welcome visitor to my garden.

Some things in life take a turn for the unexpected, and it was on that day that I began to doubt everything I thought to be true. Right before my eyes, the glossy black fur that covered Tony's slim body became shorter and shorter by the second and his body became bigger and bigger. That which lied in front of me at that time was the naked body of a man I did not recognise; jet-black hair fell over a face with gentle features whose skin was nearly as pale as snow. And as the incomprehensible shock of this moment sunk into my mind, I became dizzy and nauseous, vision losing clarity as I fell to the grass in a faint.

▪ ▪ ▪

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

The incessant ticking of the alarm clock reverberated through my bedroom as I came to my senses. It appeared to be early evening: the shadows of the setting sun and the occasional car headlights dancing and mingling on the off-white walls through the cracks of the blinds that had been nearly closed. I was still dressed in my gardening attire, but my shoes had been carelessly left outside in the dim corridor, and the doors of my wardrobe were wide open with a few t-shirts hanging from the drawers. Someone had gone rummaging in my clothes. The house was as silent as usual and peering in each room proved that there was nobody here other than myself.

"Ah, the garden!" Slipping on a pair of shoes, I opened the French doors that led to the back. Under the apple tree sat a slouching figure, soft breathing accompanied by the hidden crickets. I cautiously approached the sleeping form and crouched before him. It was the man I had seen after Tony was thrown against the tree, dressed in my clothes. Although I was slightly disturbed that this person was still on my property, I took the time to examine his face.

"Stop staring." a low voice purred, and I fell back on my bottom in surprise. Long lashes fluttered open and blue eyes peered at me hidden under the black strands of hair that rested on his forehead.

"Tony?" the stranger chuckled and waved his hand before me, a cut 2 centimeters long in between his thumb and index finger.

"Got a plaster?" I sat in disbelief, was I going crazy? There's no way Tony, the cat, somehow turned into a human. It's just impossible, this is like a dream- that's it!

"This is just a dream!" A short laugh erupted from my throat. The idea of this situation being real was too ridiculous. Cats don't turn into huma- "Ouch!" I drew my leg back as the stranger pinched my exposed ankle.

He sighed, an amused expression playing on his face, "You sure are stupid." Standing, he dusted his palms and walked past me. He took the first aid kit and picked up its contents which had been strewn on the grass from my sudden jump earlier and strolled into the house.

"Hey!" My shock had come to an end as soon as he stepped into my home. "Stop right there!" The man ignored my protests and proceeded to open the tap in the kitchen to wash his wound. "What do you think you're doing?"

He did not spare me a glance as he turned and tore away a paper towel to dry his hand, "What does it look like I'm doing?" He took some gauze from the kit and wrapped it around his hand once, then twice.

"It looks like you're trespassing on private property." I huffed. But then he turned to focus his piercing gaze on me. I shuddered involuntarily when the corner of his lips twitched into a devious smirk. He took two long steps in my direction, back hitting the counter behind me.

"I trespass all the time. You've never complained before." My nervous stare darted around his face until it fell on his brilliant, deep blue eyes. I could recognise them anywhere. His eyes flickered to a look of mischief, and a sudden revelation dawned on me. He's right; he does trespass all the time. Because he's Tony.

"You- how- what?" My baffled expression must've been hilarious because his chest vibrated in a chuckle as he took a step back. The creature I had thought of as a cat was standing before me on two legs, with two arms and two hands. A human face and a low, melodious laugh escaped his pink lips. It was then that I realised how young he looked, couldn't possibly be a day over 25, and yet there was a type of maturity to the way he stood. This being, whatever he was, was twisting my mind like a maze.

"You're not the brightest, are you?" His statement caught me by surprise, a boyish grin provoking me to retaliate. He slid his hands into the pockets of my joggers and turned on his heels toward the front door, leaving me stunned by the kitchen counter.

"Wait!" I shook myself out of the trance. My reaction wasn't fast enough, and by the time I reached the porch, the door was wide open, the fresh spring breeze invading the corridor. My eyes searched the driveway for that strange figure, but there was no Tony in sight. And as I woke up the next morning, all of the evidence of his mysterious appearance was gone, and I was left thinking that I had dreamt the entire ordeal.