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coralinnii · 9 months

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❋ If you’re a villain, then let me be your accomplice ❋

↳Reincarnated into a new world as the bad guy part 2

feat: Rook

genre: drama, slow burn romance, smitten fools,

note: sequel to reincarnated into a new world as the bad guy Rook ver., historical fantasy setting, sculptor!reader, reader is referred to as “Ma artiste” and “Mon amour” by Rook, no pronouns used with the reader, mentions of beast hunting, 1.8k word count

While it refers to fictional beasts, this touches the controversial topic on hunting which can be sensitive to people. I’m not trying to claim that my own opinions or the opinions in this fic are right and you can have a stance against these opinions. Despite the controversy, I still decided to add this into the story because this world is supposed to mirror the era when this was practiced by people of the time and with Rook as a canonical huntsman, this fits the story well.

I choose to be transparent that this topic will be in this fic and if you are uncomfortable, you are free to ignore this story because I would rather you decide your comfort levels than have people read my story.

Random note: when my laptop died, all my banners are gone so yea…I changed my character banners again

series masterlist

To your dismay, you found yourself facing the consequences for the actions of an obsessive character that convinced the famous knight Rook Hunt to be your fiancé.

Begging the Hunt family, you managed to settle a deal to repay the dowry the Hunt family paid to annul the engagement, since losing this engagement would cost their side more than yours.

Thankfully, the era of this world was the rising age of artistic revolution and the aristocracy was itching to find the newest trend of beauty and creative innovation, which you enthusiastically took as an opportunity to build your name in the field of art as a sculptor, starting off with simple desk ornaments to breathtaking statues.

Perhaps it was your silver lining that your still fiance Rook was a well-known admirer of all things beautiful as with his keen eyes, your sculptures stood out among others due to the added details of your subjects that your fiance pointed out as you work. You were confident in your skills but you owe it to Rook for enhancing the realism in your sculptures.

Initially, guilt ate away at your conscience for not only the forceful engagement you placed upon the knight (even if you weren’t directly responsible) but for also taking his help with your commissions without any benefits to himself. But the green-eyed man did not ever allow you to dwell in such thoughts.

“Non, ma artiste! Your works of art are the fruits of your passion and hard work that cannot be replicated. I may have given some notes here and there but the beauty of each masterpiece you created can only be brought out from your skillful hands.”

Rook smiled as he held your hands, still dirtied with bits of dried clay. The gaze of his bright green makes you feel somewhat self-conscious. You were a noble but you must have ruined the softness of your skin due to your long hours of work and stress. You tried to pull your hands back in embarrassment but your fiance held them firmly in his own gloved pair.

“Every scar, blemish, and crack is a show of your strength, mon amour. I could get lost tracing the lovely lines of your hands if you allow me.”

No matter how many others have praised you or your work, you couldn’t help the unique warmth in your heart that only appears when Rook sings them. But you chalk it up to your body reacting from old feelings held by the original character. It must be, right?

Your commissions have thankfully slowed down enough to give you a well needed break. You were curious to what might taking up the attention of the nobility right now which was how you learned about the bi-annual “Hunt of the Beasts” event.

You were initially terrified to learn the existence of magical beasts in this world and the danger that resides in the dense forests and mountainous lands that borders the kingdom. In order to maintain the beast population for the safety of the people and resources, the imperial family hosts an extravagant event for the knights and local mercenaries in the kingdom to vanquish the beasts. Some may call it barbaric or cruel, but for the safety of the villages and farms that reside near these beasts’ territories, it was an unfortunate necessity that is at least maintained by the imperial family to avoid excessive hunting that disrupts the delicate balance of the population.

Rook was a frequent participant of the hunt and of course he was going to be a participant. Typically, partners of the participants would attend the event as spectators waiting by the designated zones among other visitors. However, you were too new to this world and this will be the first hunt for you where you will surely come across images you weren’t sure you were prepared for.

Giant beasts…even thinking of their corpses. It’s too overwhelming.

You expressed your discomfort with Rook and despite his experience as a seasoned participant, offered words of understanding to you. The knight suggested that you could sit out from the event and he could explain to any curious busybody that you were not feeling well.

Once again, Rook warmed your heart with his words but there was some guilt still left behind within you. Despite the loveless engagement, Rook has wholeheartedly supported you in your passion and your work despite his own inexperience in the field, but you couldn’t bring yourself to accept something that he as a knight and huntsman took pride in. You allowed your fear win over and it left a bitter feeling in your heart.

The day has finally arrived and the dense forest that bordered the kingdom was busy with attendees of all status. Many have come to join to spectate and support the brave men and women who have trained to battle the dangerous beasts that lurk within the land that was darkened by wild greenery. Aides from the imperial palace watched over the event as participants were informed of the rules of the hunts; what to expect, what to capture, and what to avoid lest they choose to face punishment.

Rook surveyed his surroundings as he finished his last preparations. He saw both familiar faces and newcomers that hope to make a name for themselves today. Tents were filled with important families and even visiting guests from nearby lands either to observe or participate themselves. But he doesn’t see a glimpse of your figure.

Not that he expected it. He respected your choice not to attend the event. It could be that he has become too desensitized by the presence of beasts and monsters due to his work that he has forgotten how frightening it could be for a civilian to witness them in person.

Maybe during his hunt, he could find some wild flowers to bring back to you when he visits you later. Would you feel better if he did? You had such a conflicted expression on your face last he saw you so maybe a bouquet of rare flowers could brighten your mood, even bring you some inspiration for your art. Would you feel grateful, perhaps even smile for him as you call his name in appreciation…

“Rook.”

Ah, he could even hear you right now.

“Rook?”

A rare occurance, Rook was actually spooked to suddenly feel your presence behind him. The blonde knight did not sense you standing there, with him…at the Hunt of the Beasts.

“Mon amour, you surprised me!” His green eyes almost couldn’t believe it. “I thought you’d chose not to attend this year.”

To be fair, you’re surprised yourself. The whole idea of this event still feels unreal to you and your fear of witnessing something you’re not mentally ready for is still there. Even so…

“I want to support you, like you always have with me” you whispered shyly but Rook could clearly hear your voice at this distance. He then saw in your hands a small woven charm bracelet, a common blessing given to participants like him.

During the Hunt of the Beasts, traditions came about among the participants and non-participants. Those who participated in the hunt would offer their game as an offering to their lover as a show of devotion and strength to protect them from harm. In addition, non-participants could give a blessed items to the participant of their choice as a show of admiration or to wish them safety during the hunt.

You noticed the knight’s gaze and you felt more nervous than before. As this was your first attendance, this was also the first time offering a blessing to someone. When you told your servant you were going to the hunting event, he graciously gave you a woven bracelet and suggested that you offer it to your “lover”, much to your embarrassment.

But then you noticed the knight more closely and saw that he already had a number of bracelets and ribbons peeking out from his left arm sleeve. You supposed despite his eccentricity, Rook was still a very talented knight and quite attractive to people of all social status. Even if he was technically a taken man, this did not stop admirers from showing favour towards him with blessed charms and ribbons.

Mortified, you tried to hide the small bracelet as you put on a smile. “Since it was tradition, I thought I should bring you something but I should have guessed that you would have plenty of blessings from others. Adding more would probably be burdensome-“

You flinched slightly when you felt your hands being captured by another pair. You saw Rook’s gloved hands stopping your own but he had such an unreadable look in his eyes that you couldn’t tell what was on his mind.

“Rook?” The call of his name seemed to have woken him from his trance as Rook quickly gave you a smile before he spoke.

“Mon amour, I would be honoured to receive your blessing.” Releasing his grip on you, Rook removed the glove on his right hand where unlike his counterpart hand, was empty. “Would you please place it upon me?”

Nodding your head, you gently wrapped the woven bracelet around Rook’s wrist, careful not to tighten the knot too much since this was Rook’s dominant hand. You tried not to think too much about how he allowed your blessing and only yours on his right hand and not with the rest on his non-dominant hand.

“It doesn’t mean anything.” you tried to focus on something else and rested your eyes on Rook’s hand. It was not often you see it as the blonde-haired man tends to wear gloves as part of his uniform but you could see the rough calluses and scars littered about his fingers and palm. The skin of his hand was smoother than you expected (probably due to his friendship with the Schoenheit heir) but you can tell how hard Rook must have trained to be as skilled as he was today. How diligent this man is which earned the respect of many. While caressing his warm hand, you absentmindedly echoed the words he once spoke to you.

“Every scar, blemish, and crack is a show of your strength…How beautiful.”

Realizing what you just said aloud, you quickly let go of Rook’s hand before rushing to create distance between the two of you (when did you get so close to begin with?!).

“There, all done!” you did your best to hide your embarrassment with a smile. “I’ll be in one of the tents until the hunt is over. I wish you luck!”

With a quick bow, you rushed into a tent that was open, too flustered to look back and face your fiance.

A shame, really. Because you missed the opportunity to see a rare image of Rook with a rosy shade blooming across his cheeks and ears.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #rook hunt #twst rook x reader #rook hunt x reader #villainess au

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buckets-and-trees · 4 months

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The Only Way of Knowing You [Nick Fowler x Reader]

Title: The Only Way of Knowing You Characters/Pairings: leshy!Nick Fowler x curvy female!Reader Word Count: 7.8k

Summary: When you visit a cabin, you're drawn more and more to the forest, the flora and fauna, and a handsome stranger you cross paths with in the woods.

Content Warnings: explicit smut - nipple play, vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal intercourse, initial consent to questionable/dubious consent ending, kidnapping, intimidation, implied stalking and explicit stalking, human to monster transformation, monster fucking

Logistical Notes: Very belated, but this is my addition to the Enchanted Birthday Fest and my humble gift to all of you who come around and read what I write. Incorporating Mania (obsessive love - stalking) for @the-slumberparty's Eight Types of Love challenge. Thank you @goldylions and @sgt-seabass for blasting this with your beta energy. It certainly benefitted from your poking, prodding, and polishing.

Narrative Notes: There's a lot of leshy lore that's evolved over time since differing versions existed across Europe and you've got modern media takes. I took pieces that stuck out to me as I combed through. The most significant trait I adopted was that a leshy king could shape shift into human or animal and would adopt disguise to hide, adapt, or even lure people into the forest.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You gasped and stopped on the trail.

“A dog,” you whispered to no one but yourself, a grin splitting across your face.

The wilderness of the forest around you rose into a small, banked ridge on the left. You had only just heard the rustle of leaves that drew your attention over to that side to see the creature. You couldn’t tell the breed for sure – all dark fur, pointed ears, looking something between a husky and a wolf – but with him being so calm and willing to come this close to the path when he’d undoubtedly heard you walking, you assumed he couldn’t be too wild or feral. He had piercing blue eyes that locked with yours.

You were so tempted to try to call him over, but if he was wild, it was probably better not to, and if he belonged to someone, you didn’t want to lead him away from where he needed to go.

So, after another beat, you continued along your path.

After the four hour drive to your destination with some of the team from your office, as soon as you had unloaded and eaten lunch, you had been eager to get away to stretch your legs and to have some time away from everyone else, and you had some time before the rest of the team arrived for the work retreat your boss had put together. You had six days of training, strategizing, and team bonding ahead of you with a professional consultant and facilitator flown in who had built the agenda. There were breaks built throughout the day, and as you set off for this first walk, you imagined both the physical movement and the time away from the group would help keep you focused, energized, and from actually strangling your co-worker Rachel who regularly burst into song during casual conversation.

You saw the dog again as you took the same path the next day when your group took a mid-morning break. This time, he walked alongside your path, keeping his distance off to the side, but only kept pace with you for about five minutes before wandering off.

You were hopeful to see him when you headed out in the afternoon.

But instead of the dog, you encountered a man in almost the same area, approaching you on the path.

The man was dressed in sturdy hiking boots, dark jeans, a dark green flannel over a white shirt, and a tan jacket over that. He was tall, well-built, with short brown hair, and entirely too handsome a person to encounter in real life, especially with his devastatingly blue eyes – eyes that were the same color as the dog.

You groaned internally for comparing his eyes to the dog’s.

“Hello,” he said, nodding at you a few paces before you were about to pass each other.

“Hello,” you managed to return – it was mostly automatic, but the intensity of his gaze almost prevented you from the customary politeness of fellow trailwalkers.

After he passed, you shook your head. No need to be flustered by the momentary passing of a stranger.

You looked back over your shoulder, and then your heart thudded to discover that he was looking back at you, too. He smirked, turned, and kept along his way.

You shook your head at yourself and then kept on your way.

The walking path through the forest was narrow in parts, wider in others, and rambled on for a mile or so before it split, allowing its travelers to eventually circle clockwise or counter-clockwise around a still, blue body of water that was bigger than a pond but not quite large enough to be classified as a lake. The trees ran right down to the water in many areas, and the path, as it circled, sometimes came very close to its edges, and in other places only came within ten or fifteen meters of the shore.

On day three, you saw the man in the morning, and the dog in the afternoon.

The man, the same you saw before, came towards you after he'd done a circle around the lake. You reached the two forks before having to directly pass him, to which he waved and said hello, the same casual niceties.

In the afternoon, the dog approached you slowly but directly, and you knelt happily and held out your hand to encourage him to close the gap. He did, and after a quick sniff, let you pet him and scratch his ears.

“No collar?” you asked as you pet and admired his smooth, shiny coat.

After a minute, you stood and said, “You seem pretty familiar with this forest, well-fed, and so friendly. I don’t need to worry about you, do I?”

He circled you quickly, wagged his tail, and you laughed. “You want to join me for my walk this time?”

He trotted ahead a few steps, then looked back at you and waited.

You laughed. “I guess I’ll join you for this walk then.”

The two of you kept pace with each other all the way around the small lake, and then shortly after you got back to the main forest length, he trotted off the path into the forest again with only a small look back and a happy bark before bounding away.

That evening, because you had gone on so many walks, the rest of the group at the cabin decided to take an evening stroll around the lake. The planked wooden path made an adventure after dark doable enough. You didn’t see either of the strangers – dog or man – but there were a few times you had the keen sense you were being watched. In the dark it was impossible to tell, but the feeling came and went.

The next morning, you made your way down the deep forest path without encountering anyone and took the right fork to make your way around the lake.

At nearly the same place the dog had approached you the afternoon before, the man came striding your way from off the path.

“Hello,” he greeted as soon as he’d stepped out of the trees.

It was evident he intended to speak to you.

“Hello,” you said, trying to be friendly, but unsure how this would unfold, and a little nervous over engaging with the stranger.

Your heartbeat sped up the closer he got, but not because he was still a stranger, but because you were reminded he was altogether too handsome of a stranger. This was made even more obvious than your brief passings the previous two days, as now you could only stand still and watch as he approached you.

You remembered he was tall, but today he seemed taller. Those blue eyes had you rooted to the spot where you stood, and his face had a small but easy smile. You tried in vain to keep your heart from racing the closer he got.

“I’m Nick,” he offered, once he was close enough for conversation.

You gave your name in response.

“Nice to actually meet you,” he said as he stepped up onto the boardwalk. “You’re not from around here. Staying in one of the vacation cabins?” he guessed.

You nodded. “And you are from around here?” you surmised. “Do you live here? Work here? Both?”

“I suppose you could say both.” A calm but crips breeze swept through the trees around you, rustling through the leaves.

“Oh, are you the caretaker?”

“Guardian, caretaker, king of the forest,” he joked.

You laughed, and it was an easy laugh.

He echoed your laugh. “What, you don’t believe me?”

“No, of course, I do,” you said.

“If you let me join you, maybe I can prove my place here in the forest, share some of the history of the land, and some of my expert knowledge.” He raised his brow in a questioning look.

You were torn equally between hesitance and intrigue, but you were more unsure of how to decline, nor did you actually want to, so you nodded, and the corner of his mouth ticked up. He swept his arm to the side, gesturing at the path, and as you started walking, he fell right in step with you.

“So, what brought you to the forest?” he asked.

You explained how your boss had booked the large corporate retreat cabin for your team, planning many days of bonding and strategy conversations and leadership workshops with the consultant flown in from New York City.

As you walked together, he made good on his promise to tell you more about the forest and the lake. He pointed out some of the flora and fauna, showing his care and consideration for the wildlife and growth of the wilderness.

“It must be nice living out here.”

“You would like it.”

You looked over at him, finding he was already watching you, and then turned your head back to the path. “I think I might. Being out here the past few days has me contemplating quitting my job, selling off most of my stuff, and just finding a small cabin in the woods and writing or something.”

“You should.”His concentrated attention both unnerved you and put you at ease at the same time. It was a strange feeling. There was something within you that wanted more time with him like this, but it was silly to want. This was only your first conversation with him. You wouldn’t be spending day after day stumbling into walks with him any more than you would be abandoning your city life to embrace a secluded existence in a cabin in the forest.

But it might be nice, you thought.

“If only,” you finally sighed.

He was quiet for a moment. Then he cleared his throat. “When are you supposed to leave?”

“The day after tomorrow.”

He hummed in thought. “That seems like an awfully long cabin retreat for a team of colleagues.”

You laughed. “It certainly is. My boss has too much money and got very excited. It’s mostly a good office of people, and there are about ten of us here, but I definitely like my time away from the group – we’ve been encouraged to spend our breaks however we need.”

“And you took to your walks in the woods.”

“Mhmm,” you hummed and smiled softly. “Oh, actually, do you know about the black dog running around out here? I’ve seen him every other day, but not yet today.”

“He caught your heart, didn’t he?”

You grinned and nodded. “Does he have owners out here, or is he wild? He doesn’t have a collar.”

“No owners.”

“Not unlike you?”

“Oh, have I caught your heart, too?”

Your jaw dropped slightly, and you tried not to let your pace falter. “I–”

He gave a chuckle, but he also let his fingers brush against yours as you continued to walk side by side. “Don’t worry, if I didn’t want to see you, I would know how to go unnoticed by you in this forest.”

“Oh.” It was a small response, especially compared to the burst of warmth that bloomed in your heart, but you weren’t quite sure how to respond. You were flattered with the flirting and his insinuation that he did want to see you. A whisper in the back of your mind wondered how many years he must have walked these woods to know its secrets and be so confident that he could wander it undetected, but he gestured for you to listen to the faint call of a pair of birds nearby. He identified them as veery thrushes, and then you were carried along into learning about them and some of the other animals that inhabited this area of the forest during the rest of your short morning walk.

Nick came across you walking again in the afternoon. He told you more about the forest and its history, but more and more he started to ask more questions about you.

You liked that he asked about you.

It seemed impossible that this unbelievably tall (was he even taller than he was before? Surely he wasn’t), dark, handsome man was so keen on your company, but you couldn’t help but take to him, and to the warmth of the attention he shined on you like the sun that filtered through the leaves of the trees to bathe the rest of the flora in the forest.

It may have been silly to dream about him that night when you went to sleep, but you had no real control over that, and although this whole excursion was for work, a small, inconsequential crush on someone you would never see again when you went home was fine.

The next morning, you didn’t run into him during your walk, but you were happy to run into your furry companion again, and he stayed right at your side while you took the loop around the lake. You were only a little sad there was no sign of Nick, but even though he clearly spent a lot of time there, you couldn’t expect him to always be in the woods.

So, when you were just starting along the path for your walk and hear footsteps coming up behind you, you eagerly looked over your shoulder, only to see two men walking some twenty to thirty yards behind you. You sighed and kept walking. You hadn’t seen a great deal of people on the trail over the past few days, but these weren’t the first strangers, as it was an area with enough scattered cabins throughout the forest to merit the establishment of the sturdy planked path in the first place.

But as you continued on, the men seemed to keep pace with you, speeding up when you did, and slowing down and maintaining some of the distance when you tested it, and that made you nervous. You would feel better even just to see the wild dog so you could call him to you. You were sure he would deter the men. But there was no sign of him either.

As you approached the fork that created the lake loop for the path, you didn’t know which to hope for – that they would take the other path and you would have to potentially pass them, or take the same one as you and you could hope that they would keep their distance.

They went the same way as you.

And they started to close the distance.

You thought you were imagining it at first, but when you increased your pace, theirs quickened even more, and there was no more of the hum of talking between them.

You didn’t want to panic and run. They both had a height advantage with longer legs, and if you could simply continue to walk more quickly, you could at least stave off the need to run until there was no more choice – because you were sure the second you ran, they would follow suit, and you didn’t know how long you’d last.

Especially now that your heart was already racing.

“Hey sweet thing,” one of them called out.

You focused on keeping your quick pace and didn’t look back.

“Nice day for a walk,” the same gruff voice added.

Still you refused to engage. You expected this now and then in the city, but it wasn’t supposed to happen out here. You didn’t have a phone to suddenly get on and call someone or keys in your pocket to thread through your fingers for makeshift protection.

“Nice day for more than a walk, don’t you think?” the second man chimed in.

“Yeah, maybe a little afternoon delight.”

Your skin crawled.

“A little fucking,” the second one jeered.

Maybe you did need to run.

And then suddenly at a bend in the path, you turned and there he was.

Nick.

Your heart leapt in relief, and you rushed to him.

He had to have instantly seen the panic in your eyes as his own blue eyes changed immediately into a dark storm, and he looked beyond you as he quickly strode forward to meet you. He saw the men immediately as they, too, turned around the bend, and you heard their footsteps slow immediately.

Nick pulled you into his side, wrapping a protective arm around you.

“Afternoon,” one of the men said, both of them nodding, trying to pass off casual greetings as if they hadn’t been closing in on you, making their intentions clear.

“Turn around, pack up, and leave this forest,” Nick said, voice flat and threatening.

“Hey! Look, man,” the other started, but Nick cut him off.

“Turn around, pack up,” he repeated, enunciating each word with more fury, “never come back.”

They stopped walking, putting them only ten yards away.

“Now,” Nick growled.

A ripple of fear shot through you at his tone, and it wasn’t directed at you. There was a sudden groaning and crashing of trees in the distance that only added to the tension of the moment, and then the two men turned around and retreated.

“I know where you’re staying. Don’t make the mistake of thinking my directions are idle or that I won’t check to make sure you’re gone,” he spoke loudly enough for them to hear as they got further away.

With them no longer in sight, Nick turned his full attention to you, taking both your hands in his. “You alright?”

You took a deep breath in then let it out to release the tension from the fear-driven adrenaline and nodded.

He murmured your name, pressing in concern, ducking slightly to gaze directly into your eyes.

You smiled softly at his worry, the seeds that bloomed earlier in your heart coming to life and blooming a bit more. “I’m fine now,” you reassured him, giving his hands a gentle squeeze.

He narrowed his eyes.

“Really,” you promised. “Not the first intimidating creeps I’ve ever encountered.”

“Okay.” His face relaxed, but only a fraction, and you had the impression it was only to help ease your tension. “If you’re sure.”

You nodded.

He dropped your hands, and you reminded yourself not to let your face drop as he did.

“Sorry I didn’t meet up with you earlier, I-“

You cut him off, “I wasn’t expecting you to meet up with me, and I don’t always get to steal away for these walks at the same time.”

He nodded. “I know. But I want to show you why time got away from me.”

“Okay.”

His face split into a bright smile. “Follow me,” he said, turning around and trekking into the trees.

You trailed behind him as the ground gently sloped toward the lake. The trees and underbrush were abundant yet thin enough to allow the two of you to pass through. The wooden path varied in how close it was to the lake as it wound around, and here it was less than a minute before you could see the water’s edge. Nick abruptly stopped and put his arm out for you to also stop.

Since he’d been walking so quickly, you did bump right up against his arm with a small mumbled, “sorry,” and he turned his head to smile. Then he turned to look ahead and pointed to a cluster of rocks right at the shoreline.

You squinted to study them, and then you gasped when two little furry heads popped up over the top of the rocks.

“Otters!” you whispered.

“Yes,” Nick confirmed. “Freshwater river otters. I think we’ve got a clan of at least four that have only appeared today in the lake. Probably migrated down the river from the lake further up. They’ve been getting a bigger tourist draw up there, and I imagine they don’t want to be constantly disturbed by humans encroaching on their habitat.”

He took slow, measured, unassuming steps closer, and you tentatively followed. The two otters both perched up higher on the rocks, giving tiny yelps.

Nick motioned for you to kneel as he did. He held out his hand toward the pair of mammals.

“They’re a curious and friendly species,” he said, and even as he said the words, the two darted up and over the rocks, coming closer by a few feet before pausing. The slightly larger one gave a little trill and took a couple more hops forward. Its companion sauntered right up next to it, but then took a few more steps forward, bopped its nose against Nick’s hand, huffed and turned away, darting right down the bank and into the water, gliding smoothly away. The other came forward, gave Nick’s outstretched hand a little more of a sniff, then turned its head to you, and edged your way. You quickly but carefully stretched your hand out, received a couple of sniffs, and then this otter also snorted and trotted away and into the water, trilling as it slipped into the clear water.

“No fish, no interest,” Nick said, and the two of you laughed.

He moved to sit on the ground, and you sat next to him. The pair of otters re-emerged, swam up to shore, and dove back in and out of the water frequently as the two of you watched and talked.

You only stayed there for a short space of time, and then Nick seemed to sense without you needing to prompt him that it was time to get back to your walk. He stood and gave you a hand up. He held onto your fingers for just an extra moment, looking at your hands together, before letting go and brushing himself off. You did the same, and then fell into step with him, heading back to the path.

Easy conversation, just like the day before, continued to flow between you. He appeared to have endless questions about you, and again his rapt attention was its own warm, addictive rush, and that thing in your heart continued to grow, vines starting to sneak out of your heart and around your chest.

Suddenly he stopped, and you stopped another step ahead and turned to look back at him. “What is it?”

“We’re at the spot that leads up to the cabin your group is staying in,” he answered, a broad smirk on his face.

“Oh,” your cheeks heated, and you ducked your head to laugh. “Oops.”

You didn’t want your last walk with him to suddenly be over.

“You’re quite taken with all of this, aren’t you? The forest calls to you.”

You let out a wistful sigh and looked back up at him. Damn those impossibly deep blue eyes. You were overcome with a terrible ache that radiated from the base of your throat and the top of your chest, and you desperately tried to tamp down the thick emotion.

“But I have to go home tomorrow.”

“Come walk with me tonight.”

You bit your lip.

“Come on,” he urged you. “It’s your last night, and it’s a full moon. You have to see the forest bathed in the full moon's light. Come with me.”

“Yes,” you heard the word tumble out of your mouth, unable to deny him.

His eyes darkened and sparkled. “I promise you’ll see things you’ve never seen before.”

Though Nick wasn’t far from your thoughts, you focused well enough on your last evening with the group, engaging in dinner and the evening’s bonding activities. Wine and mocktails were poured for a final night looking up at the stars around a fire in the firepit on the balcony, and you made sure to enjoy that time, too. You had liked some of your coworkers before the retreat, but now you had a better understanding and appreciation for all of them.

However, once it got closer to ten, you anxiously started taking stock of the minutes passing away further into the night. Two of your group said goodnight at ten, but that was too early. You determined you would do well to stay with the balcony group until at least half-ten so you didn’t get too anxious about seeing Nick later.

At ten-thirty, a few more peeled off from the group, and so you retired to your room so that your timely departure didn’t seem unnatural to anyone.

You showered and messed with your hair for a bit but didn’t bother with makeup since it was after dark. You put on your favorite pair of joggers, a crewneck, and good walking shoes. You certainly hadn’t anticipated taking to the forest with so many walks each day, it wasn’t anything like how you were at home – busy with work and taking care of your life in the city – but it had been so natural to take to the outdoors while you were here. This final walk before your party went home in the morning wasn’t going to be like any of the others. You tried not to feel foolish for indulging in a walk at midnight with the hulking man with the most captivating blue eyes you’d ever seen who could easily take your breath away and whisk you off your feet.

But you had said yes because when else would you ever do something like this?

The answer was never.

And there was no harm in taking a handsome man up on his offer for a midnight stroll in the moonlight.

You put on the watch your grandmother had given you and the simple necklace you typically wore. They weren’t much, and you told yourself you didn’t need to dress up anyway, but they were small touches all the same.

Looking briefly in the mirror, you smoothed your hand down over the front of your shirt and took a deep breath. It’s fine, you thought. He’s seen you plenty before now, and it’s going to be dark, and it’s only a walk anyway. You checked your watch, and it was just a few minutes before eleven-thirty, which is when Nick had said to meet him.

You slipped quietly out of your room, down the stairs, and out the back door. The full moon was bright out here so far away from any city lights, illuminating the familiar path from the cabin that would take you down to the main boardwalk trail.

So many times Nick had simply appeared in the forest, but he was waiting for you right at the end of the path. Your heart raced just a little as his lips turned up in a smile.

“Hey,” you said softly.

“You came.”

He studied your face intently. You were unsure what he was looking for and simply focused on returning your gaze as unassuming as possible, telling your heart to settle and stop beating so fast. Yes, he made you feel things, but one of those things over the past few days had also been a sense of calm and safety in his presence, and you concentrated on that.

After another moment, finally, you responded with a simple, “I said I would.”

The corners of his mouth turned up. “Then let’s go.”

You fell easily into step with him, the trail so familiar now, though it had been less than a week, and knowing this ramble down to the lake and back, your chest started to feel thick in anticipation of missing it already. As you walked and talked, you thought you were keeping pace with Nick, but maybe you were more tired than you thought because it seemed like you were working to stay in stride with him as you hadn’t had to before. Either that or his legs were longer than before, but that – of course – was an impossible thought.

You shook your head.

Nick paused and turned. “What are you shaking your head at?” he asked. “I’ve lost you, haven’t I?” His tone was soft and teasing.

“Sorry, I got distracted, and my imagination got a little carried away with impossibilities.”

He cocked his head slightly. “Maybe more is possible in this forest than you might think.” His eyes danced with a hint of mystery.

“Is that so?” You played into his mischief.

He leaned closer. “This is an old forest, and it’s a full moon. Anything could happen on a night like tonight.”

Your body seemed drawn into him, leaning closer as well. “Anything?”

“Anything,” he whispered, and his eyes flicked down to your lips.

The moment hung between you. You tilted your head up, and your eyes fluttered closed. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your face.

And then he tugged on your hand, yanking you out of the moment. “Come on, pretty girl, we’re almost there.”

You sighed, letting out the breath you didn’t know you’d been holding.

But with how tightly his hand held yours as he led you off the boardwalk and into the trees, you didn’t feel too disappointed.

He was quiet now, but he also kept you close as he led you through this part of the forest. The trees were more thickly woven together here, with girthier trunks, and you couldn’t help but feel how they were older the further you wandered in. There was no trace of a path now, but Nick kept a confident pace, clearly knowing each inch of the forest intimately, and his surety allowed you to let yourself be swept away further and further along.

His steps were swift but nearly silent, and you tried to walk as quietly as possible. The sounds of the forest at night were soft but present – soft wind whistling through the trees, the song of nocturnal birds, and the chirping of crickets. The light filtering through the branches was minimal, and it had to be tricking you because you knew he was tall, but it felt like he was somehow taller tonight. It had to be the nature of how you were keeping so close just behind him, focused on the square of his shoulder and the gentle pull of his arm leading you.

He wasn’t taller now than he was earlier today, was he?

“Just up ahead,” he said, looking back over his shoulder at you, one of the easy smiles that made your heart sigh painted on his face.

His pace quickened, and your anticipation built as you hurried to keep up.

Seconds before the tree line broke, you heard the rippling sounds of water before emerging into a glade. Nick stopped a few steps into the clearing, and you came to stand right next to him. The first thing to draw your eye was a stream running into a small pool. The meadow on the side of the stream where you stood sloped gently down to the water, and it was covered in blankets of wood anemone, reaching right down to the bank and springing up and sprawling away again on the other side. The trees surrounding the glade were certainly some of the tallest you’d seen in the forest, and they rose as giant sentinels toward the inky black sky, which was studded with stars around the bright full moon.

As you looked up and around, the coupling of the simplicity and the majesty of it all had you enraptured, and you let out a soft sigh of contentment.

Nick brought your hand up to his face, pressed a kiss to the back of your hand, and your heart stuttered in your chest. You turned to look at him. His eyes almost appeared to glow an even brighter blue.

“I said it earlier, but this forest calls to you, doesn’t it?”

Your brows furrowed.

“Close your eyes,” he said.

You did.

He dropped your hand, and you let it fall to your side.

“Take a deep breath,” he whispered.

You inhaled slowly, letting the breath fill your belly and lungs, fresh, clean, and calm. You tipped your head back, your face craving the moonlight in that moment.

Although you didn’t hear him move, suddenly you felt the warmth of Nick standing behind you. “Now, listen and feel,” he murmured softly in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. You shivered but remained rooted to the spot. His fingers brushed along the backs of your hands and began to trail slowly up your arms. Your whole body was humming at his touch.

He pressed one soft kiss to your neck, and you sighed and let your neck fall to the side. When his hands landed on your shoulders, he pressed another soft kiss at the bottom of your neck, then turned you to face him.

“You should stay with me.”

Before you could respond, he took your head in both his hands, cradling your jaw. He searched your eyes for any hesitancy, but you knew you couldn’t summon any, nor did you want to. Instead, you pushed up on your toes, seeking his lips, and he met you halfway, claiming your lips with his.

Your hands came up to clutch at his wrists as he held your face, and you leaned in, longing to feel your body close to his. His tongue teased at the seam of your mouth, and you let him in, allowing the kiss to deepen, to sear into your very soul. His left hand moved, quickly coming to press at the small of your back, drawing you flush against him. One of your arms wound around his broad chest, and the other came up to mirror how he was cupping your cheek, feeling the trace of stubble along his jaw with your fingers. You stroked his tongue with yours, moaning into the kiss, and he reciprocated stroke for stroke. You quickly became so consumed by his kiss, feeling lightheaded but not sure if it was him or a lack of air, because you couldn’t tell if you were still breathing. It was a fevered kiss driven by something you’d never felt so strongly before, and you needed more.

Nick sank to his knees, and you went naturally down with him. He sat back on his heels, and you followed, perching in his lap. He held you there, your core over his groin, for a delicious moment, and then suddenly he lifted you up and laid you softly but swiftly onto the soft flowery bed of the meadow, his lips never leaving yours. You gasped and giggled against his mouth.

“What a lovely sound,” he said tenderly. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, a satisfied grin on his face.

Whether it was smug or sweet, you weren’t sure, and you felt your cheeks growing warm under his hungry gaze and his soft praise.

“I wonder what other lovely sounds I can draw from you,” he added as both of his hands moved to your hips. He began kissing you again, having only given you a moment of reprieve, then his hands slid slowly up your waist, skimming up over your ribs, pushing up the fabric of your sweatshirt. When his thumbs brushed up against the underswell of your breasts, he pressed back and forth a few times, teasing you, drawing a little whimper, before he let his thumbs run up and over your nipples. They were both peaked, and you shivered in pleasure, the teasing through the fabric of your bra its own unique sensation, but you were eager for more, so you moved your hands to begin quickly unbuttoning his flannel. He took the hint, helping you by shrugging off his jacket, and when he leaned up for a moment to pull off his flannel and remove the t-shirt he had on beneath it, so you shifted beneath him to pull off your sweatshirt and reach for the clasp of your bra, tossing that to the side as well.

You hadn’t hesitated to rid yourself of your clothes, but you were hit with the rush of baring your chest to him now as – with his own clothing discarded – he froze and looked down at you from above. You flushed with heat, but as you moved one hand to tentatively cover yourself, he grabbed it in his, drew it up to his mouth, and kissed your palm.

You were aware of every imperfection as his eyes roved over your body, but when he looked into your eyes and said, “gorgeous,” his face was so serious, so hungry, you didn’t question that he meant it.

He lowered himself back down over you, supporting himself by planting one forearm on the ground next to your side, and this time his lips sought your chest. He kissed down your sternum, then took one breast in his mouth, and palmed the other with his free hand. You moaned as he sucked one nipple and rolled and teased the other with his fingers. You arched beneath him, your body responsive to his diligent ministrations. He switched to the other breast, flicking his tongue over the nipple before lapping and sucking at it. You hadn’t cum before from nipple play alone, but he had you wondering if you might as the pleasure mounted.

You trembled and whimpered beneath him, and as you began to writhe more desperately, he took his mouth off your breast with an audible pop. He moved back up your body, and his hand cupped your face again, his thumb brushing the apple of your cheek, urging you to open your eyes and look at him.

“Tell me you never thought about it, about staying here with me after I left you earlier today,” he said.

You were already breathless, or else the powerful drive in his deep blue eyes would have stolen your breath once again.

“You must let me have you,” he implored.

You couldn’t answer, but only because you were overcome by the desire in his eyes. For you.

Your name fell from his lips, and his voice was soft, deep, and controlled, but you could still feel the edge of the desperate plea as he uttered your name.

“Yes,” you keened, and you rocked your hips up against his.

“Say the words,” he said. “Say my name and tell me I can have you.”

He slipped his hand down, hooked two fingers into your waistband, and pulled teasingly along the edge from your hip to just below your navel. The torturous movement along your soft skin only drove the hunger that was building for more.

He had to know how he was mounting and playing with the anticipation. But if he needed you to say it, you’d say anything to get what you wanted right now under the light of the full moon from this inimitable figure of a man, nearly unreal in his beauty.

“Nick, you can have me!” You cried.

He wasted no time in pulling your trousers and underwear down in one go. You tried to kick off your shoes, but slightly struggling to do so, his hands helped remove your shoes and socks more deftly, and he was able to more easily toss it all away. And as your legs settled back down on either side of him as he knelt above you, you realized he was suddenly somehow as naked as you – though you didn’t know how he managed that so quickly, so quickly it felt like magic. Everything about tonight felt illusory, and yet it was all tangible and indisputable, and you gave yourself over to it. When else would you ever find yourself in such an enchanted set of circumstances like this ever again?

So what if it felt like a dream?

You took a deep breath and let your fingers tangle in the grass and the stems of the wood anemone. Your eyes traveled up his thighs to a cock so thick and long and hard for you, then up further, over his hips, defined abs, chiseled chest, and broad shoulders, and you whined. Every inch of him ignited heat through your body, and when your eyes met his again, your pulse stuttered.

You could dream like this for one night.

Keeping his eyes locked on yours, Nick settled back on his haunches and pulled your thighs up over his, drawing you up over him, angling your lower half up as an offering, and his piercing cerulean gaze moved to your core, fully on display. His fingers brushed over your lower stomach, the touch so light it tickled, and you jerked, but his other hand held your hip firmly in place. His fingers parted your folds without hesitation, and he licked his lips.

“Such a pretty, wet cunt, my little nymph,” he said, and you felt both shy being so exposed to him, and desperate for him.

“Nymph?” you couldn’t help but question, surprised by the pet name.

“Mhmm,” Nick hummed. He traced your wet folds with one finger, in no rush. “You belong to this forest.” He spread your wetness along those lips with the attention of an artist to his canvas. Then he slipped two fingers inside your cunt.

You gasped, and your eyes fluttered closed.

He pushed them all the way in, then gave a few slow, shallow thrusts in and out.

You never wanted to wake up from this, but you needed more.

“Nick, please!”

He withdrew his fingers and then pressed them to your lips. “Taste your sweet nectar, nymph.”

The digits easily slipped into your mouth, and the urge to suck was a near primal reaction. He applied gentle pressure on your tongue as you sucked, and it only drove the craving in your core further. You were entirely lucid, and yet you felt thoroughly intoxicated by him, by everything around you.

“Open your eyes,” he said, and you did.

You swore he could see into your soul when he looked at you so intensely, but rather than fear, it soothed your nerves. It also more deeply stoked your desire for him, and as much as you wanted to linger in this moment, there was an undeniable pull you couldn’t ignore.

“Kiss me,” you breathed.

He shifted to lean down over you, remaining rooted between your thighs but shifting forward so you were nearly chest to chest. He bore his weight on his forearms, caging you in. As he settled, lips only a breath away from you, you felt the weight of his large, thick cock rest on your stomach. You lifted your head to pull him into the kiss you wanted. You ached for him to fill you up, but you also wanted to give everything just to this kiss for a few beats longer.

It was like he was drinking you in. One of your arms came up around his back, the other brushed up along the side of his arm, seeking and ultimately finding his hand, and your fingers instinctively entwined together.

He moved his other hand down briefly to guide the head of his cock to your weeping hole, and you gave a little moan into his mouth as his head entered you.

As he seated his cock fully inside of you, the tip nudging your cervix, you had to break off your kiss to concentrate on breathing. Nick dropped his forehead to yours, seemingly unable to refuse some form of intimate closeness as he rocked into you again. “You can feel it,” he spoke, the warmth of his breath still close to your mouth.

“Yes,” you panted. Your legs wrapped around his torso. He resumed thrusting, slow, deep thrusts.

“I can feel it, too,” he murmured along your jaw. “You’re answering the call of the forest.”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, hardly focused on what he was saying, but the deep warmth of his voice made the words swell through your mind.

He continued his unhurried thrusts, almost methodical in nature, and after a few more minutes, his cock began to swell inside you. And it continued to grow.

You moaned – or groaned – you couldn’t decipher if what you were feeling was real and whether it was painful or pure ecstasy. Your hand clasped his more tightly, and his answering squeeze was accompanied by tendrils of vines sprouting and circling around your hand and down around your wrist.

“What?” Your eyes flew open, and then you gasped. “Nick!”

He was transforming before your eyes. His face remained familiar, but a crown of horns appeared around his head, and emerald moss and glossy leaves intermingled and sprouted throughout his dark hair. Two enormous, magnificent antlers had emerged from his temple and were still slowly growing, just as he was still slowly growing inside you as he continued his steady thrusts. His shoulders broadened, and you knew he was growing in stature.

You trembled beneath him, tears springing to your eyes, in danger of spilling over.

“I told you, my little nymph: I’m the king and guardian of this forest – it speaks to me like it wants to speak to you. You’re answering the call, and I can’t,” he paused to groan, and with a shiver, you felt the ridge of his spine shift from skin to a supple tree bark. “It’s midnight, and with you giving yourself to me and the forest, I can’t hold back my true form.”

He began to thrust more quickly in and out of your cunt, a few of the strokes a little erratic. You whimpered, overwhelmed, and a few tears spilled over your cheeks.

“No, none of that,” he scolded, but kissed away the tears. “You didn’t want to leave, and now you don’t have to, nor can you.”

His free hand moved between you and found your pulsing, puffy clit, applying immediate, furious little circles that refused to let you feel anything but pleasure in response to his ministrations. His lips reclaimed yours once again, and as your body continued to tremble, his thrusts sped up even more, your channel never more full, making the mounting wave of pain and pleasure so exquisite as the waves grew that you let out a sob as your orgasm crashed over you.

Unrelenting, as your cunt contracted around him, Nick more demandingly sought his own release. He moved both hands to grip your ribs below your wrists and railed into you with abandon, punching the air from your lungs over and over, and ultimately pushing you into a rushed second orgasm only seconds before he roared his own ecstasy, his hips stuttering as he spilled deep loads of his seed inside of you, a warmth you could feel permeating you.

And then Nick petted your face, showering kisses softly over your lips, cheeks, and eyelids before ultimately resting his forehead on yours, and gently caressing your neck.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you, for this, and now you're mine forever.”

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

If you enjoyed this at all, read the other two fics from the Enchanted Birthday Fest! They're both exquisite!

#nick fowler #sebastian stan #nick fowler smut #teratophillia #terato #female reader #nick fowler x female reader #tw: dubcon #sebastian stan smut #aspen wrote something #aspensenchantedbday

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klausinamarink · 4 months

Text

I Reach For You On Faith Alone

rating: G | cw: none | wc: 1.6k | tags: post S4, getting together, fireflies | prompt: Love is having hope for the future together

written for @steddielovemonth

“Mind if I join you?”

Steve’s voice broke Eddie out of his wandering thoughts. He lifted his head up to see Steve was already on the roof, dangerously crouching by the edge. Steve was still in his work uniform so either he had just left the video store or was too tired to change. Eddie betted it was the latter if the deep bags under his eyes indicated anything.

Eddie hummed and patted the empty space on his right.

“Sweet.” Steve said, scooting over until he was next to Eddie. Then he suddenly sat up, “Shit, sorry, I didn’t bring anything with me. You want anything? Food? Drinks? Your cigarettes? It’s cold as hell too, do you need a blanket?”

His concern was adorable but understandable. Eddie just shook his head and returned his gaze back to the sky.

Night had fallen moments ago but Eddie was too content to get back inside yet. The stars were bright, a galaxy belt spanning from one corner to somewhere that it hurt to crane his neck back. It was also quiet, save for the crickets. Benefits of a new government-says-sorry house being located on the country roadside forty minutes from Hawkins.

“It’s really nice.” Steve said quietly.

Eddie grinned, “You haven’t seen the best part yet.”

He could feel Steve staring at him with a raised eyebrow. If they were standing, Steve would definitely have his hands on his hips.

“You have a galaxy beaming down at you and this isn’t the best part?” Steve made a tsk-tsk noise. “And yet you defile me as the one with shit taste.”

Eddie chuckled and propped himself up by an arm. He looked to his left where the grassy fields were at. Almost on cue, a small green light blinked in and out of existence. It wasn’t until a few more appeared that Eddie finally reached over to Steve and pointed towards the field. “Look over there.”

Steve sat up again and squinted his eyes. Then he blinked, rubbed them with his fingers, and blinked again. He said, “What am I looking at?”

A scandalous gasp erupted out of Eddie’s mouth. He lurched backwards with his hands planted on his chest as if he were stabbed. “Steve Harrington has never seen fireflies? Oh, the humanity!”

Steve did a double take, “Wait, those are fireflies?”

Eddie paused, “You… never did that thing as a kid where you go outside and try to catch them?”

Slowly shaking his head, Steve replied, “Not really, no.”

This time, Eddie made a tsk-tsk with the click of his tongue. He reached over to grab Steve’s hand. “Then allow me to show you the missing joys of childhood.”

After a careful jump from the roof, Eddie ran to the field, Steve’s hand still in his grasp. The other man gave out a startled laugh with every urgent pull from Eddie. “Hey, man, slow down-!”

“You seriously need to do this!” Eddie said over his shoulder as they entered the field. The grass was as high as their thighs, tickling Eddie’s arm. As they dashed through, more fireflies flew up and around them.

“Woah.” Steve whispered after Eddie finally stopped. He watched as the other man stared wordlessly at the fireflies, his eyes full in wonder as each insect flickered its glow. A few landed on Steve’s hair and shirt. It would’ve been hilarious for Eddie to laugh at if it hadn’t illuminated him in a way that brought the perfect highlights to his face like the slope of his nose and growing softness of his cheeks.

It was such a perfect portrait that it made Eddie wish he had gotten into photography. He would have a camera ready in his hands and used up the entire film roll to snap the same shot over and over.

Eddie cleared his throat, shaking himself out of the stupor. The other man slowly looked back at him, his eyes covered with a thin layer of unshed tears.

“Cup your hands like this.” He instructed, showing Steve the correct position. Steve furrowed his eyes but copied him. Eddie took a second to glance around himself before his eyes landed on the closest firefly. With careful precision, Eddie grabbed at the firefly, keeping his palms closed but far apart so as not to squish the bug. He slightly opened his thumbs apart, allowing the light of the firefly to shine out.

“Can you do that?” Eddie asked. Steve lightly scoffed, already shaking his head. “C’mon, don’t quit already!”

“You’re like a better expert than me.” Steve said, pausing when a firefly landed on his wrist. They both watched as it crawled up to his fingers and then entered Steve’s cupped hands.

Eddie smirked, finally releasing his captured lighting bug. “Looks like you already are. You just took the patient route.”

They stand together far longer than either of them would like, but neither of them complained. They eventually sat down on the ground and watched the fireflies flew right above their heads as if the stars in the sky were chasing each other.

“Beautiful.” Steve said in a soft voice as he stared upwards.

Eddie nodded, his eyes stuck on Steve’s face. “Sure is.”

They both fall into silence. Until Steve speaks again, “Eddie?”

His heart was already breaking his ribs with how rapid it was going. He swallowed quickly, “Yeah?”

“What-” Steve stops himself, a conflicted expression on his face. “Sorry, it was gonna sound dumb and sensitive. Ignore that-”

“Steve.” Eddie said, bumping the toe of his shoe against Steve’s leg. “No dumb questions. I won’t be offended. Promise.” He added when Steve looked over at him with mild disbelief.

Steve sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “I was going to ask if.. you had any idea what your future was like.”

Eddie gave out a dramatically weary sigh like he was an old man returning from an odyssey. He spoke like one as he responded, “Ah yes, the future. Let me spin you a yarn-” He broke down into cackles when Steve playfully punched him at the shoulder with an exaggerated eyeroll and a smile of his own. It pinched Eddie’s scarred cheek but it was a small cost to make Steve look happy.

After he settled down, Eddie answered a little more seriously, “To be honest, I’m just focusing on making it, you know? Like sure, I survived literal hell and got my diploma, but I just wanna take my time with the recuperation and just-” he spread his arms out, his hands brushing against the non-flattened grass around hum, “-make it.”

“And after that?” Steve was staring at him. Vulnerability shone in his eyes, hunched his body little forward so that Steve was almost curled into himself.

Eddie shrugged, “Find a trade that doesn’t care about my past or my name. Maybe mechanics or electric. Move out of Indiana. Maybe I’ll turn Canadian.”

Steve snickered, “That’s it?”

“Yep.”

“Oh.” Steve looked away. He started tearing at some of the smaller grass. Sniffed loudly and quickly brushed a hand over his eyes. Eddie wanted to say something but if he did, it might just startle Steve away. And he doesn’t want Steve to leave.

His silence eventually paid off because Steve spoke again, “I- I thought I had a good one. Before I graduated, I thought that I was going to university to study the same boring degree my dad did just to take over his chair when he drops dead. Then I didn’t get into any of the colleges so-”

“Six little nuggets in a Winnebago.” Eddie had eavesdropped on that conversation. He had remembered thinking oh shit, Steve is actually going back to Nancy until he had suddenly hated himself so much that he wanted to rip out his guts and eat them. The usual reaction of having a crush on Steve Harrington.

“Yeah, I still see that happening.” Steve smiled again. His body became less withdrawn into a shell and more open.

“With someone in particular orrrr..?” Eddie drawled out, not willing to say any name aloud.

Steve stretched his arms out and leaned back until he was laying on the ground. Like a magnet, Eddie felt compelled to do the same. Steve’s eyes were on him again. There was something else behind them that Eddie couldn’t decipher even under the billions of dotted lights shining on them.

“I thought I would have that future alone.” Steve said as Eddie laid down. Their shoulders were pressed together, sending goosebumps up Eddie’s arm.

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ there.” He said casually. Then he just barely held back a gasp when he felt Steve’s pinky finger resting on top of his.

He dared to turn his head. Steve was already looking back at him.

There was no telling who leaned in first. Or who laid his hand on his bicep. Or who fluttered their eyes shut to savor the other’s taste even though neither of them showered in the morning and smelled of unwashed carpets and countryside musk.

All Eddie knew was that his lips were now touching Steve’s. And they felt so soft and plump.

Eddie refused to pull away. He pressed closer, rolling on his side. Steve’s hand slithered onto his chest, spaying his fingers across his shirt right on Eddie’s heart before gripping the fabric. Then he pulled Eddie up, just enough so his torso was nearly aligned on top of Steve’s.

They broke apart, catching their breaths together in their new proximity. Eddie peeked through his eyelashes, almost taken aback by the great tenderness on Steve’s face.

“But it was with you.” Eddie nearly swallowed the words from how Steve’s lips still touched his.

“Hm?”

“That future I still want?” Steve smiled despite a tear that trailed from the corner of his eye. “It was with you too. Even if you don’t even want it at all.”

What other way was there for Eddie to prove otherwise except to cup Steve’s cheek and kiss him again with the stars and fireflies as their witnesses?

#klaus writes #steddie #steddielovemonth

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toweringclam · 18 days

Text

After reading some responses to the latest Doctor Who, "73 Yards," I realized that a folkloric faerie story might be alien to modern audiences. However, there's a good modern equivalent, and I thought I'd try my hand at putting the story in a more familiar form.

"73 Yards"

Item #: SCP-17347

Clearance Level: 2/Restricted

Object Class: Euclid

Disruption Class: 2/Elam

Risk Class: 3/Warning

Special Containment Procedures: All Foundation personnel are to maintain at least a 32-foot (10 meters) distance from SCP-17347-1 unless necessary to protect civilians, in which case personnel are to use antimemetic ear and eye covering to reduce exposure to her effects. Otherwise, Foundation personnel in the field are forbidden from approaching, interacting with, or acknowledging the existence of the entity in any way. Should this prove unavoidable, personnel are to disable all communication devices to prevent the effect spreading. Any Foundation personnel inadvertently exposed to SCP-17347-1's effects are to be administered class A amnestics and transferred to a different site. Should this fail to relieve symptoms, they are to be offered early retirement with full benefits and disability pay.

Grade C surveillance is to be maintained on SCP-17347-2 with a primary goal of preventing civilian exposure to SCP-17347-1's effects. While SCP-17347-2 will generally avoid being separated from SCP-17347-1, should this occur Foundation assets are to intervene and ensure the 73 yard (67.75 meter) distance is maintained.

Description: SCP-17347-2 is a 21-year-old female Caucasian approximately 5'2" (157 cm) tall, with green eyes and natural brown hair that she prefers to dye blonde. A major identifying feature is a scar on her right eyebrow of unknown origin. Her demeanor is generally cooperative despite signs of psychological trauma related to abandonment. Attempts to gain SCP-17347-2's cooperation should use the subject's given name, "Ruby S█████," while focusing on reassurance that she is not alone and that the Foundation has her best interests at heart.

SCP-17347-1 is an entity of unknown origin, appearing as an elderly female Caucasian with white hair and wearing a long black overcoat. Due to its anomalous properties, it is impossible to form a more precise image of the entity. Methods of indirect observation such as cameras always show the subject with the same resolution as a human eye with 20/20 vision observing the subject from a distance of 73 yards (67.75 meters). Even anomalous means of observation are subject to this effect.

SCP-17347-1 maintains a constant distance of 73 yards (67.75 meters) from -2. Despite having a demonstrable physical presence, she does not appear to move when observed, instead relocating between blinks or lapses in attention. This effect is observable even on recorded video. Objects offer no hindrance, and the entity is able to keep pace with the fastest available Foundation land vehicles.

Attempting to transport SCP-17347-2 via air, sea, or other methods where SCP-17347-1 would theoretically not be able to follow have thus far failed due to anomalous weather activity. The temperature will plummet rapidly and produce out-of-season snowfall, escalating to blizzard conditions, and in one case flash-freezing a portion of the English Channel. The effects abate immediately should efforts to transport SCP-17347-2 cease.

Any attempt to interact with SCP-17347-1, including but not limited to attempts to harm, hinder, communicate with, or describe the entity will trigger her memetic effects, and can spread to secondary subjects nearby or through live audio/visual communication. Anyone subject to these effects will develop an intense antipathy towards SCP-17347-2. In civilians, this most often manifests as fear, but it can take other forms, such as anger, disgust, hurt, and disdain. The particular manifestation appears to matter less than the effect: an immediate and overwhelming desire to completely distance oneself from SCP-17347-2 in the most expedient and thorough way possible, including refusing to enter an establishment she frequents, changing their name and moving to a different country, resigning public positions, and, in one case, self-termination. Amnestics have no effect on this, though they may be administered to affected individuals to reduce psychological trauma associated with past and theoretical future interactions with SCP-17347-2

Testing has concluded that this effect includes indirect and negative means of interaction, with no known limit on range. D-Class subjects proved unwilling to push a button if informed that it would expose SCP-17347-2 to an intense, loud noise, even under threat of termination.

Those affected by SCP-17347-1 will only be able to refer to her in the most vague terms, describing her as "Shaped like she is," or "Looking like she is supposed to." They are unable or unwilling to explain the source of their antipathy, even under extreme duress, with the most common response being, "Ask her," refusing to clarify whether they mean -1 or -2.

At all times, SCP-17347-1 performs a looping series of gestures that appear to be an attempt to communicate in a form of sign language. However, the gestures are either not found in ASL or BSL (American or British Sign Language), or performed so poorly as to be unrecognizable.

Discovery: SCP-17347 came to the Foundation's attention following a failed operation to apprehend SCP-17347-1 by UK paranatural security organization UNIT (Unified Intelligence Taskforce). UNIT director Dr. K███ L█████████-S██████ (Dr. K for brevity) was exposed to the effects during an operation and ordered all information on SCP-17347-2 purged from UNIT databases and her files burned, on grounds of "Wasting precious resources on someone who doesn't f██████ matter)." Embedded agents and spy software were alerted to the purge and managed to save some documents. Official UNIT liaisons attempted to recover the remainder of the documents, but Dr. K vehemently refused and threatened to cut ties between our organization if pressed on the issue, yet she readily accepted amnestics when offered, to "Get her out of my goddamn head forever."

Addendum 1: From recovered documents, SCP-17347-2 appears to be a former associate of PoI-3 ("The Doctor") though what relevance that may have is unknown. -2 has shown reluctance to speak on this subject explaining, "That's when it started. The second time someone abandoned me forever. Not the last, though. Not the last."

PoI-3 has not been sighted since the anomaly began.

Addendum 2: Additional anomalous properties only came t o light during the documentation process. All measurements related to her must be conveyed in Imperial units first, though metric can be provided in parentheses. Also, both entities must be referred to with feminine singular pronouns, even when referring to both of her. Further research into this effect with languages lacking singular feminine pronouns is pending.

(I thought about adding interviews and testing logs, but I think you get the idea, and this had better get me like 500 notes from how much effort I put into it even without that)

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ukiyoebirds · 5 months

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Scarecrow - "Someone's gotta take care of the @#$% birds."

You may need to click on the image for better resolution.

Explanation of some of my thoughts under the cut:

This piece is about change, courage, and danger.

The wheat has changed from green to gold. Similar to how Cole Cassidy has undergone change. From ranch hand, to Deadlock gang member, to Blackwatch operative, and now he's part of a recalled Overwatch. Even his name has changed, from Jesse McCree to Cole Cassidy.

Additionally, the wheat is about to be harvested for the benefit of others. However, carrion birds have come to pillage it for themselves.

Likewise, in the current narrative, the world is moving towards peace but antagonistic forces, like Talon or Null Sector or good ol' corruption, threaten that.

Cassidy has seen these forces burn the world to the ground before. But this time, he's not going to let them win. Like Winston said, "Someone's got to do something."

TLDR - Cole Cassidy is a scarecrow AND a field of wheat.

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social-mockingbird · 1 year

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dangerous habits (pt. 2)

(eleventh doctor x reader)

it’s me again, your favorite procrastinating fanfiction author, (finally) doing a follow-up to dangerous habits! i am a sucker for pet names as stated previously, but i am also a sucker for using them on other people. if you are my friend and okay with it you’re getting sweet-talked out the wazoo. this is dangerous if you have male friends. we don’t talk about the times i called my crush ‘honey’.

you can read the first part here! it’s not required, but it does provide a little more context?

author’s rec while you read: the flower garden by joe hisaishi

________

He likes to catch you off guard with them.

Thanks to your habit of losing yourself in thought (you were in space all the time! There wasn’t a weekend you weren’t visiting a new planet! You had a lot to think about!), it was pretty easy for him to appear behind you, warm hands sliding a familiar path around your waist, chest pressing into your back.

“Hello, dear.”

“Darling, you’ve disappeared again.”

“Love, what are you thinking about this time?”

You were starting to get used to being startled, and that was a strange paradox all its own. It was the worst on his happy days, because the gentle hugs were usually accompanied by the softest kiss to the back of your neck, or your jaw, or, if he felt especially cheeky, your mouth, after he’d spun you around and made you gasp. And, as he liked to say into your skin, he’d never been happier.

So now it was time to turn the tables on him.

The benefit to having an especially flirty sort of lover is that you were picking up quite a lot of ideas for romantic teasing. Despite the fact that he knew exactly how to push your buttons, you were learning what exactly made him click–and you were waiting for the perfect moment to use your new knowledge. (You’d tried flirting to yourself in the mirror, once, to make sure you knew what you were doing, and made yourself laugh so hard that the Doctor had come running to make sure you weren’t choking.)

“You sure Hayao Miyazaki isn’t from here?” you ask, knee deep in endless flowers. This planet was nothing but fields and always a gentle springtime. There was a pocket storm rumbling gently in the distance. The sun was a little cooler than Earth’s, so you had the Doctor’s coat draped around your shoulders like a cape, despite the bright weather.

“Took him here once,” the Doctor says carelessly, a flower stuck behind his ear. “I think he made a film about it later.”

“Remind me: we’re having a movie night later,” you say, knowing he’d forget. You wade to him, stepping delicately around a rock buried in the flowers to move into his space. You grasp one of his suspenders, pulling him down a bit to your level, trying not to smile at the way his eyes widen, at the way he sputters a bit when you touch him. You smooth his hair down and slide the goggles he’d forgotten to take off out of his hair. Then, you place the flower crown you’d twisted on top of his head, giving it a pat so it would stay. He’d been so wrapped up in watching the oncoming storm that you’d had plenty of time to weave the crown behind his back. It hangs a little down over one of his ears, and he twitches his nose at the smell of the flowers, blinking, adjusting to its weight. The bright yellow of the blossoms brings out the green in his eyes.

“You’re really handsome, sweetheart,” you say, dropping your voice an octave, and lean up to kiss his temple, right underneath the crown. “Thanks for taking me here today. I love getting to spend time with you.”

You can see his hands fluttering at his sides out of the corner of your eye. For someone so attractively smooth, he was remarkably awkward.

“Close your eyes, love,” you say, and when he does, you grab his face and tilt it down, pressing your lips to his forehead, the bridge of his nose, his eyelids. The storm behind you makes the breeze kick up. The Doctor shivers a little and leans into your warmth. His hands come to rest on your hips. You can feel the tremble in his fingers.

Oh, now you knew why he did it to you. This was fun.

His eyes flutter open, a kaleidoscope of greens and blues and grays, a little unfocused as you adjust his bow tie and straighten the collar of his shirt.

“What are you doing?” he says, almost to himself.

“Flustering you,” you tell him, barely speaking above a whisper, and it makes his fingers tighten on your hips. “Come here, love.”

You can smell the rain in the air when you grab his lapels and kiss him. It mingles with the scent of the flowers.

“This is unfair,” the Doctor groans, chasing your mouth when you pull away. You run your fingers up into his hair and the words die in his throat.

“I’m just returning a favor, Sexy,” you say, pulling him close as the rain comes down. You hold him like you’re leading a dance, wrapping him up in your arms as thunder rolls above your heads. The flower crown drips petals onto your shoulders. Both of you look like wet cats when you finally stumble back into the TARDIS, shivering, giggling, hands full of drooping flowers and each other.

When the Doctor sneaks up behind you and grabs your waist while you’re toweling off your hair, making you scream and laugh, the TARDIS lights glitter with amusement.

look at this small precious bean man like what I wouldn’t give to fluster this fool--

(also, tagging @greycircles1 because you asked me months ago if I would do a follow-up and I wanted to but couldn’t think of anything so I didn’t answer your DM and sorry about that! I hope you enjoy this :))

#eleventh doctor x reader #11th doctor x reader #matt smith #eleventh doctor #reader insert #matt smith is stupidly adorable #11th doctor #vera writes #vera really likes howl's moving castle and projects her fantasies based on it #vera also really likes a TARDIS that ships people #i may or nay not have written this entire thing while pointedly not studying for an exam

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aguiloeduardo · 5 months

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Field of Greens Powder Benefits - Unlocking the Goodness of Organic Nutrient-Dense Superfood

In the pursuit of a healthy and vibrant lifestyle, incorporating the right nutrients into your daily routine is essential. Enter Field of Greens Powder – an organic, nutrient-dense superfood that brings a plethora of benefits to the table. Let's delve into the goodness of this green marvel and explore why it's becoming a staple in the pursuit of overall well-being.

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#field of greens powder #field of greens benefits #green superfood powder benefits #high fiber greens powder #best green superfood powders #organic greens powder benefits #the best greens supplement #organic super food powder #best daily greens powder #best organic greens powder #green vegetable powder mix #benefits of taking green superfood powder #benefits of drinking greens supplement #super foods for immune system #best greens powder for weight loss

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bharatvarsh22 · 7 months

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AGRICULTURE MEETS ADVENTURE: EMBRACE AGRO-TOURISM AT BHARATVARSH NATURE FARMS!

Agriculture meets adventure at Bharatvarsh Nature Farms! This hidden gem offers a unique blend of agro-tourism experiences that cater to nature enthusiasts, agriculture lovers, and adventure seekers. Located in the heart of pristine countryside, this destination beckons travelers to embrace agro-tourism in all its glory.

From farm stay vacations to sustainable agriculture tours, from vineyard excursions to orchard tours, Bharatvarsh Nature Farms has it. Join us on this exciting journey as we explore the world of agro-tourism in detail.

Do Visit: https://bharatvarshnaturefarms.com/agriculture-meets-adventure-embrace-agro-tourism-at-bharatvarsh-nature-farms/

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drakaripykiros130ac · 4 months

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Can we talk about how Larys Strong himself indirectly confirms the Blacks’ victory?

As the Littlefinger of the story, he spent his time stirring up trouble for his own benefit. He only cares about himself and his ambitions. The word loyalty is not in his vocabulary. Throughout the whole war (and even before that), he sided with the Greens. And yet after Rhaenyra’s death and the rise of the Black armies, Larys switched to the side of the Blacks and conspired to have the usurper killed.

Why did he do that? Because he saw that the Greens were losing, and as any opportunist, he didn’t want to be on the losing side. He didn’t count on still being executed by Cregan Stark, but his move was done in an attempt to save himself from being tried for treason along with all the other Green supporters who conspired to steal the throne from Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen.

And yet, there are people who still deny that the Blacks won. How many clues do they need?

1. The Black armies literally win the war on the field.

2. Rhaenyra’s children get the Iron Throne and it’s her bloodline that survives.

3. Larys Strong betrays the Greens last minute because he didn’t want to be on the losing side.

4. King’s Landing celebrating the usurper’s death.

5. The construction of the statues of Aemond One-Eye and Daeron stopped.

6. Alicent Hightower locked up.

7. Jaehaera used as spoils of war, and never once considered by the Council to inherit the Iron Throne (and before you blame it on misogyny, please remember that Baela and Rhaena were considered).

Should I go on?

#team black #pro team black #rhaenyra targaryen #anti team green #queen rhaenyra #anti larys strong #anti greens #asoiaf #canon asoiaf #fire and blood #a song of ice and fire #house of the dragon #hotd #the dragon queen #anti alicent hightower #anti team green stans #the blacks #anti aegon ii targaryen #aegon the usurper

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chernabogs · 4 months

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I made this post yesterday which @/hanafubukki and @/rayroseu and I kind offfff got inspired to actually write something LMAO

Labours Gained

Inc: Malleus, groundskeeper, nanny, briefly Maleficia WC: 2.2k Warnings: None, except swearing Summary: Consequences for your actions come in many forms. For some, it's a time out. For others, it's mucking around in mud all day.

Eirnan was a man who has endured many challenges in his life. Over 600 years of employment as head groundskeeper at Black Scale Palace meant he had faced wyrms, blight, drought, tenebrae boars which had torn up the root vegetables, and the odd employee who nicked a few carrots for their own personal use. He had served during Queen Maleficia’s first reign, and then the wars, and now her second reign. He knew which plots of land were most fertile for which plants, he knew of companion flowers and the medicinal benefits of the herbs, and his mind was an almanac of its own right.

Eirnan was a learned man… until it came to the matter of child-care. He never knew how to act around children, nor did he have any interest in interacting with them to begin with.

But now it’s a beautiful cloudy day in Black Scale Palace, and there is a very, very miserable boy standing before him.

He’s poorly dressed for the occasion—fine garments in the fields are a recipe for disaster—and the eight o’clock hour shows residual glossiness in those green eyes. His arms are crossed firmly over his chest and his lower lip is jutted out in a pout.

Crown Prince Malleus is a temperamental boy—everyone in Black Scale knows this. His latest explosion of emotion regarding an off-handed comment a tutor said (it was a jest! the man had cried while diving for cover behind trees to avoid furious lightning bolts) had resulted in a complete annihilation of the palace gardens. Eirnan had spent much of yesterday repairing the damage while mumbling about how ‘some things truly are genetic’ under his breath.

Then he had received a missive. A missive, which led them to this moment, in which he stands before the prince with his own arms crossed over his chest and his own equally unimpressed expression on his face. At a glance, one would think the two are related with how mirrored these looks are.

Eirnan pulls out a pocket watch and raises an eyebrow. “On time today, hm?”

“I was told not to be late,” Malleus bites back, attitude in his tone as he glares up at the groundskeeper. He doesn’t want to be here. Eirnan doesn’t want him here either. It’s Queen Maleficia who has shoved them together like two children in a time out.

Eirnan can’t help but wonder if he may have slighted her in the past and this is her round of revenge.

“Right, well, you’re on time but you’re certainly not dressed right.” His gaze skims over the boy's proper attire before raising to look at his nanny instead. The woman ducks her head and focuses intently on the book she holds, making it obvious that no aid will be given. This earns a scoff from Eirnan as he reaches up to rub the back of his neck.

What exactly can he make the prince do? Queen Maleficia made it clear that a lesson was to be learned today for his actions. Malleus was barred from using any magic, and the nanny was here to ensure that this was followed through. The prince knew no loyalty or secrets were kept by his staff—a sad reality for a seven year old to face.

“It isn’t like I just have clothes to get dirty lying about.” Malleus retorts again while continuing to glare up at him. There is little to no remorse present—just sheer grouchiness. “I don’t usually muck in mud.”

“Well, you’re mucking in it today.” Eirnan can’t help but have his own bite in his words as he turns and treks towards the nearby gardening shed. Malleus stands rooted in his spot for a moment before following, having to run a little to keep up with the older man's long strides.

The inside of the shed contains the extra attire that the staff wear when working the fields in the on-season. Although the prince is significantly smaller than many of Eirnan’s employees, he does manage to scrounge up some pants, a top, and gloves for the boy to wear.

The shoes are a lost cause. There are no boots that can fit the boy without making him goose walk around the field.

“Put these on then, either over your clothes or not, and then meet me back outside.” He tosses the fabric into the prince’s arms, making the boy stumble back with an oof! of surprise. Malleus looks down at the clothing before his lip curls in disgust. Eirnan does his best to stifle the satisfaction he feels about that as he steps out of the shed and slams the door shut.

It’s a beautiful cloudy day in Black Scale Palace, and this is going to be a long ordeal.

_____________________________________________________________

Twenty minutes of protest later finds Eirnan and Malleus standing before a re-soiled plot of garden near the edges of the palace. The boy's act of destruction yesterday had uprooted a majority of the roses that had been planted there, but a few bushes still remained standing—albeit charred and drooping from the assault. Near their feet are bundles of rose plants that Eirnan had been soaking in the greenhouse overnight in preparation for what was to come today.

The nanny had followed them to this area and is watching with interest from her position on a nearby bench. Malleus looks significantly less intrigued. His gloves are lying discarded on the grass along with his shovel and there’s a distinct air of boredom about him.

“So, what we’re going to do is use our shovels to dig up some holes, ‘bout 18 inches deep, 18 inches wide, yes? Then I need you to mix compost in there—”

“Compost?” Malleus’ head snaps to look up at Eirnan wide-eyed. “But I read that compost has—”

“Shit. Yes, there’s shit in there. Do you still want to fight about putting on those gloves?” Eirnan leans against his own shovel as he looks down at the young boy. Malleus’ brow furrows and his lower lip trembles before he’s grabbing the gloves and shoving them on his hands. He looks ready to cry or throw another tantrum. Eirnan tenses in case that does happen, the memories of the tutor running through the gardens yesterday still fresh in his mind. If Malleus’ does snap, that means he’ll be out here tomorrow, too.

Tough lesson.

“Anyway, mix the compost, and then we need to loosen the roots and put them in the mound. Keep the bud union—that’s the little knob there.” He pauses to squat down and point at the bud on the root. Malleus leans down to look at it as well before Eirnan continues. “About 1 to 2 inches below the ground. Briar Valley has a colder climate, so if we keep it up, it’ll kill the plant.”

“If a plant can’t survive the weather, should we really be planting it?” Malleus’ question is fair. Most of the time, one wouldn’t try to grow plants that can’t acclimate well.

“They can survive, they just need a little help. Princess Meleanor herself was an enormous admirer of roses—it’s her notes of how to plant them that we’re following right now.” Eirnan clears his throat before re-focusing on his explanation. He misses the flicker of interest in the prince’s gaze at the mention of his mother’s name. “As I said, keep it below ground. Then we refill the hole ‘bout three quarters with soil and pat it down. Water it a little, let it soak, and then water it again.”

“There are too many steps.” Malleus grabs at the shovel with an apprehensive glance at the dirt. “Can’t we use a little magic? We don’t need to use it for all of the steps, but one or two? I can just make all the holes appear—”

“No magic. Her highness’ strict orders. Unless you want Queen Maleficia to come out here and watch you herself, which I’m sure is the last thing you want, I’d advise listening to instructions.” Eirnan grabs at his own shovel before tapping it on the back of the prince’s heels, making the boy step forward. “Hop to it, then. This will take up a good part of your morning.”

___________________________________________________________

The first few plantings are painful. The boy doesn’t dig deep enough, and then he digs too deep, and then he buries the plant too deep, and then he doesn’t bother burying it at all. The process reminds Eirnan why he never had any children himself as he carefully explains and fixes all of the prince’s errors. Despite his complaints, the boy actually does listen to his advice, and soon the two fall into a quiet pattern of dig-plant-water.

The compost part is still met with many vocalized protests, though, and Eirnan soon does relent to doing that himself.

“How long does it take to grow?”

Malleus’ question disrupts the silence they had fallen into, causing Eirnan to pause and lean on his shovel again. “Three or so years for these ones. The one’s that are still rooted are fully mature, but I’m not too sure they’ll be blooming this year. The buds got damaged.”

Malleus, who has been sitting cross legged on the dirt with a bundle of rose plants in his hand, stares at the bushes for a moment while his thumb plays with the stems. “Did my mother plant those ones?”

“Before she left, yes. She used to plant new ones at least once every few years. When she got her own palace, she had an entire garden there as well.” Eirnan digs another hole as he speaks. He had been in service long enough to see Meleanor weaned off of Queen Maleficia. The girl had sat where Malleus sits now, and their near identical likeness strikes Eirnan as unnerving, as though he’s been projected into the past and is witnessing those spring days once more.

He clears his throat. “They’ll recover. Roses are hardy plants. Strike ‘em down, and they’ll get back twice as strong.”

“Are you sure?” Malleus looks up at the groundskeeper, his green eyes squinting against the light. Eirnan doesn’t look back as he keeps digging.

“Mhm.”

At the affirmation, the prince returns to planting, now with significantly less attitude than before. He’s almost enjoying the rhythm after a while. Despite his status, in the end the boy is still a boy, and it’s hard to keep a child from loving messing around in dirt.

It’s when the nanny clears her throat and brings over a basket of food that the two finally take a break from their labours to sit in the nearby grass. Eirnan rarely gets to appreciate the fine foods served to the nobles, so he’s indulging himself heartily in the miniature sandwiches that are present when Malleus begins to speak again.

“How long have you been doing this?”

Eirnan pauses, ham sandwich halfway to his mouth. “647 this spring.”

“647 years?” The boy's voice is incredulous as he looks at him. “You’re old.”

“And you’re a baby.” Eirnan grumbles back as he wraps a few of the sandwiches in a napkin.

His comment causes another flash of annoyance to cross the prince’s face. “I’m not! Grandma says I’m very mature for my age!”

“Did she say that to you before yesterday, or after?” He challenges back. Malleus’ cheeks flush as he grabs at a sandwich and takes a bite. After a few more, the scowl on his face softens before he continues his questioning.

“Why do you do this? The manual work? It’s easier with magic.”

“Keeps my stress down.” Eirnan chuckles. The nanny gives a sound that might be mistaken as a laugh, which is quickly covered by a cough while she begins packing the extra food. He mourns the finger sandwiches being lost to the basket. “There’s always something to do for these gardens, and when you’re planting, you can let your mind just fall quiet. Watching something that you worked hard to grow get appreciated by others is a rewarding feeling. Magic takes away from that. The instant gratification fades faster than the long-term that labour brings.”

Malleus falls quiet again as he finishes his sandwich. He then fiddles with his gloves, which are still too big for his small hands. He has dirt on his cheek and his chin that he seems entirely unaware of. Eirnan offers him a napkin to wipe it off, albeit gruffly.

“It isn’t bad.” Malleus finally mumbles when he accepts the napkin and hastily wipes his face.

“What, using magic?”

“No, planting.” Then Malleus looks up quickly with another furrow in his brow. “Except the compost. The compost is bad.”

“It’s shit.” Eirnan shrugs his shoulders and ignores the sharp look the nanny gives him. Malleus’ lips do twitch slightly into a smirk.

“It’s shit.” The boy repeats, causing the nanny to say his name in a scolding tone, which finally does draw a laugh from the prince. “How many more do we need to plant?”

“Three, maybe four. Shouldn’t take long.” Eirnan rises with a grunt and brushes a few spare crumbs off of his pants. The prince is quick to scramble to his feet as well. He seems oddly reinvigorated as he pulls his gloves on and grabs his shovel. He then cranes his head back to look up at the taller man with a spark of challenge in his gaze as that cheeky smirk continues to play on his lips.

“Let’s hop to it then, shall we?”

Eirnan snorts in amusement as the two return to the dirt patch, both unaware of the figure watching from the windows of the palace above, a pleased smile present on her lips.

#malleus draconia #twst #twst fanfiction #i didnt know if it was ok to tag directly so i just did a lil slash #i always feel awk tagging ppl LMAOOO #anyway this was super fun i love writing the 'exhausted adult and devious child' dynamic #i feel like malleus was just a cheeky lil guy growing up yk

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thedeviltohisangel · 17 days

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All The Things I Did (Princess Era): I Would Be Your Only Dream

a/n: knight!john x princess!cass au is here my loves! i hope you all enjoy this little glimpse because i think there are so many beautiful possibilities for scenes in this universe. i will write more if you guys think you would want to read it! this is their first meeting in this universe and i hope you fall in love with this version of them just like you have in canon and in the modern au. let me know all your thoughts (dirty or otherwise) xoxo

John was barely paying attention as Gale was walking him through the center of the village, pointing out the stalls where he could find the best fruit or vegetables or trinkets to send back to his family if they were curious about his new life at the castle.

“Princess Cassandra is not allowed in the village anymore after the last incident.” The mention of the Princess got his attention.

“Incident?”

“The head of the watch found her attempting to sneak into…” his voice dropped to a whisper, “a house of the night.”

“Most would call it a brothel, Gale. The Princess isn’t allowed to explore herself?” He was positive that the exploits of her older brothers, on and off the field of battle, were legendary across the realms.

“Not when her betrothed is coming to retrieve her at the end of the next moon cycle.” John rolled his eyes. He had learned quite a few valuable and useful things about himself during his encounters at a brothel or two. Who was a knight of the realm to begrudge the Princess the same opportunity? Especially if she had a loveless marriage ahead of her.

“Good thing protecting the Princess is your calling and not mine. I’m merely here to win some coin in the tourney and be on my way.”

“You’ve been a nomad for too long, my friend. Why not try resting your head here for a little while?”

“Staying still invites trouble. I’m not in the business of trouble anymore.” When he and Gale had first met, offering their swords for the glory of the King many years ago, they had both been bloodthirsty young men. Gale had outgrown that desire, met a nice girl on his travels and fallen in love and married her. John had taken his sword on the road, offering it in service of whoever paid the most and for whatever purpose they deemed fit. He was known for being the best and that was exactly why Gale had written him and asked for him to participate in the upcoming tournament. The prize was substantial, the possibility of land and titles, and he knew his friend could only benefit from the stability something like that could offer.

“Trouble still always has a way of finding you, my friend. Whether you are looking for it or not.” As if to illustrate his exact point, the sound of a child crying reached their ears. Both men stepped towards the child at the ready to offer their services when a green cloak appeared out of nowhere and crouched down to the height of the child.

“Hello there, little one. There is no need for tears.” John watched as her delicate hands reached to touch the child’s face, his tears dissipating at the caress of her fingertips.

“I’m going to grab a watchmen. I’ll be right back,” Gale offered with a clap to John’s shoulder. He jogged off in a separate direction and John took a few steps closer to the woman and child.

“Would you like me to help you locate your mother?” she asked, presenting the young boy with her hand. He nodded and placed his smaller hand within hers.

“A lady such as yourself certainly should not be wandering the village without a sword to accompany her.” The woman turned to face him quickly, the hood of her cloak falling from her head to reveal a scarf covering all but a few tendrils of her hair. All his confidence dissipated as her eyes rested on his. There was a tightness to his chest he would never be able to explain and his heart was racing at a sheer glimpse of her beauty.

“And who are you?” she asked in her own breathless voice. She couldn’t look away from the blue of his eyes. As if the spring sky itself was nestled in the orbs.

“A man offering you his sword as you seek to reunite this child with its mother.” Cass assumed he must be new here. Otherwise, he would have dragged her off to face the wrath of her father or, worse yet, her mother for breaking the rules and sneaking beyond the castle walls again. This man, this indescribably handsome man, was offering anonymity for a little bit of time. And with that came freedom.

“Very well. We will start at the bottom of the hill where his cottage is.” She held the hand of the little boy and was off in the direction he was pointing, John following after them dutifully. He watched with a smile as she conversed with the young creature and nodded along with all of his musing and remarked with appropriate ease as he recounted the tale of losing his mother. They reached the bottom of the hill and turned towards the row of stone houses and thatched roofs.

“Does he belong to the crying woman?” John pointed in her direction, the little one dragging the cloaked beauty in her direction. She threw him a smile over her shoulder and he smiled back despite his best intentions.

“Oh, my child!” The woman welcomed the boy into her arms as he called to her with glee. “How can I ever repay you?” Cass shook her head.

“The unbridled joy in reuniting you both is enough to fulfill me. Nothing further is necessary.” The mother looked to john.

“I only accompanied to ensure they reached you in one piece, ma’am.” Up close, the cloak of the enchanting young woman was made of velvet. If he was going to shae anything loose from anyone, it was going to be her.

“You must at least take some food for your troubles.” The woman disappeared for a few moments before appearing with two braided pastries and handing them one each.

“Thank you, ma’am. Now I best be going. Keep an eye on that one,” he nodded towards the little boy, “seems to enjoy finding trouble.” He meant it from one troublemaker to the other. Speaking of which, John thinks he recognized a bit of a kindred spirit in the beautiful girl as well.

“I appreciate your offer but now your services are not needed, Sir…”

“No title. Just John. Humbled to serve at your pleasure, my lady.” She offered her hand when he reached for, his lips softer than her goose feather pillows in the castle. He rose and she offered him her pastry.

“I don’t eat anything given to me by a stranger. Just a precaution.” Her sister had been poisoned while walking the market of her husband’s kingdom just last year. Ever since then, she had been under strict orders to only eat things tested by the King’s Guard but even without the order, her own paranoia would have created that rule herself.

“You must have not gone hungry during the famine of our childhood.” Velvet cloak and no food insecurity paired with her clear attempt to hide her hair and inability to hide a face that he had swears looked carved from marble. Who was this woman?

“I did not. I was very lucky.” Nothing about her life in the castle had changed even as famine rang throughout the realm. Her father has always ensured she and her siblings wanted for nothing no matter the circumstances and no matter the price.

“My lady, I insist you let me accompany you home. At this hour, you should not be alone in the town center.” The sun was setting it’s last few rays and the local people were boarding up for the night. Only those with unsavory thoughts would remain.

“Oh, but that is exactly when this place comes to life. When one can truly explore and learn and expand the capacity of their mind.” She spun with glee as they began the trek back up the hill. “Is this your first visit to our land?”

“Nay. I have stopped here briefly before but my friend is a member of the King’s Guard. Asked if I would participate in the tourney and I accepted.” She hummed her acknowledgement and thought through all the Knight’s and who might have a friend as handsome as this.

“Is your friend Sir Gale?”

“It is.”

“In my mind you two would make such a pair,” she teased as she gathered her skirts in her hands and began to increase her pace. “I hear the princess will be in attendance tomorrow. Plans to give her favor to a deserving knight.” Something about the way she said it piqued his interest. He couldn’t put his finger on it but knew there was something akin to a riddle in her tone.

“Is the princess not often in attendance?” He was walking slower to keep pace with her, the setting sun casting her face in an ethereally golden glow.

“Not since her betrothal was announced, no.” She grew sullen at the topic and he wished to put her smile back on her face.

“The princess’ beauty is legendary throughout the realms. I am anxious to see if she could even hold a candle to you, my lady.” Cass blushed and smiled just as he had intended.

“You’re quite charming, John.”

“Not charming enough to have earned your name it seems.” She opened her mouth, poised to offer it to him and accept whatever consequences came with it, when she recognized Sir Gale walking the cobblestones towards them with a squadron of watchmen right behind him. “You’re a little late, Gale. We’ve already managed to save the day without you.” John smiled but it slowly fell from his face as his friend and the other knights stopped in front of them, dropping into bows.

“Your Highness,” Gale spoke, “we must escort you home.” Cass held her breath as she felt John’s eyes burn holes into the side of her face. It had only been a couple hours of knowing him. Had only been in his presence for a short amount of time but she knew she wanted more of it. Knew that wandering the village with him had been more freeing and more inviting and felt more like she could do it forever than anything else ever had.

“That’s why you wouldn’t tell me your name,” he whispered. There were tears behind her eyes as their gazes locked. A fleeting moment of something raw and pure flitted between them. Something that if nurtured, could light the entire world on fire.

“Please, John, do not hold this against me.”

“Your Highness,” Gale urged.

“I hope you enjoy the spectacle of the tournament, Princess.” John bowed his head to her respectfully before he was off in the opposite direction of the imposing castle in the distance. Desperate to be away from her and the intoxicating way she seemed to take up all the air.

Cass pulled her cloak around her body tightly and began to trudge in the direction of her home. Alone and cold and a sense of emptiness swirling within her. A gilded cage awaited her. Meant to keep her inside, beautiful and stoic and pristine. Meant to keep anyone out who wasn’t deemed the same status of her or her family. She knew in her heart that someone like John was meant to be kept out. She knew in her heart she was meant to be kept in. she knew in her heart that one afternoon with him was not going to be enough.

Cass knew some walls were meant to be crumbled. Some traditions meant to have fire set to them. And she had plenty of fire in her soul to go around.

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