#i mean i GUESS you could convince me that there happens to be another location-bound nekomata who looks just like jibanyan | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

peaktotheocean · 3 years

Text

post-production

Pairing: Jaskier/Geralt ao3 link here Notes: If you ever watched the Lord of the Rings behind-the-scene discs and thought “I wish there was a 12K Witcher AU where Jaskier is the famous actor who buys a horse for Geralt the horse trainer” then you’re in luck

Jaskier knew that he would miss the stable the most. After weeks of filming on location, surrounded by crew and actors that Valdo had already poisoned against him, the stable had become a respite of sorts.

No matter the smells (the many, many smells), Jaskier would always remember the sun beams shining through the high windows and illuminating the dust and dirt to shine on the horses. Jaskier had tried and failed many times to capture the moment on his phone— to the point where he was convinced that it was impossible. He would just have to burn the sight into his memory.

Jaskier had just one more day in this stable and on set and then he could sort of what he wanted to do with the rest of his life.

Certainly not acting.

Five blockbusters in four years and Jaskier's exhaustion knew no bounds. Not to mention people he thought were his friends just clinging to him for a ride.

He had meant for his career to be music and yet here he was on what he considered the wrong marquees.

Taking a small acting job offered by a friend in order to help pay rent had escalated into a full career and never worrying about rent again.

But then there was Valdo.

Jaskier had only started hearing about the rumors during the second week of the shoot. And by, then it had been too late. Valdo's charisma and charm took hold and Jaskier wasn't to be trusted. Was he a thief? A gossip? A drunk? A backstabber? It depended on which rumor went around that morning.

"Last day, darling."

"What?" The horsemaster's gruff tone was shorter than usual today.

"Sorry. I was--" Jaskier broke off. He didn't want to say it aloud. Which was silly because he had seen Geralt speaking to his own horse, Roach many mornings. Not to mention afternoons and evenings and any other time they were shooting scenes and Geralt was brought on set to stay with the horses. "I was just telling Pegasus that it's our last day with the horses. Or my last day, I suppose."

"Hmm."

Jaskier already missed the grunts. It was unclear if Geralt disliked him because of Valdo's rumors. But truthfully, the horsemaster hadn't seemed to have taken a shine to anyone over the course of shooting.

Well, not any humans, at least.

He doted on all the horses. Roach in particular, and Jaskier couldn't blame him. She was a sweet mare and if Jaskier hadn't been assigned his darling Pegasus, he would have liked a chance to ride Roach as well.

But of course not. She was Geralt's favorite and Valdo's mount.

Not that the actor cared. The animals were more like props than living beings to him. Jaskier didn't like thinking about the amount of times he had seen Valdo curl his lip at Roach.

Just Jaskier's luck.

He had beaten out Valdo for a role which he hadn’t even known the man had wanted. And in return, Jaskier’s last few months had been lonely and uncomfortable and—

He set his forehead against Pegasus’s neck and took a breath to steady himself.

He could still feel Geralt’s presence. Lifting his head back up, he smiled at the man who showed no emotion in return. At least Jaskier knew that Geralt didn't like anyone else on the set either. In a strange way, it helped. Geralt was a part of his respite in the stables just by being impartial to the rest of the gossip of the set.

"Not the last day overall, of course. But I checked and I know we're moving on to another area for the next month or so. Granted, I guess you'll still be here if they want to do re-shoots, right? Can't go through the trouble of training so many horses over again."

Geralt had apparently decided that Jaskier wasn't even worth of his grunts anymore. As if Jaskier was the one who came out early to the stables to interrupt him and not vice-versa. Still, the actor had to admit that the quiet of the stable comforted him regardless. No one gossiping. No Valdo. Just him and Pegasus.

And Geralt, he supposed.

And Roach.

And the other horses.

Well, Jaskier supposed no moment was truly perfect.

----------------

Jaskier let his fingers run over the intricate chainmail of one of the many costumes from the film. Percival and his artistic team had done such excellent work. It was a shame that most of it would be auctioned off but with any luck, some would go into a production vault or even a perhaps a museum exhibit for film costumes. While Jaskier enjoyed the way his costume felt on him, purchasing it wasn't a priority for him.

“Percival!" He called when he saw the crewman in question. "This is for the auction, right? Do you know when it's actually happening?”

Jaskier hated how nervous he felt. He knew the horses were up on the auction block and he had a plan. Pegasus was the only good part of this filming and Jaskier didn't want to leave him behind. “For the horses,” Jaskier clarified.

“You interested?”

“Very.” Feeling much like the office was his primary school classroom, Jaskier stood up straight and put on his best serious face. “I’ve got the space and a neighbor who already shared the name of the veterinarian he uses for his farm.”

“Better prepared than most actors who make a snap decision at those auctions. Plenty of times I’ve heard of some bigshot selling off a horse after less than a month."

Jaskier couldn't tamp down the pride he felt at getting Percival's approval. Gods, he needed to leave this set. Just spend some time with Priscilla and not think about acting for a while. With any luck, he'd be spending time with Pegasus as well.

“How awful.”

“Can’t be helped. You’ll want Pegasus, of course?” Percival asked knowingly, poking fun at Jaskier's wide smile.

“Please. Send me the info and if I can’t be there and I’ll send someone else in my stead.” Jaskier couldn't help himself. “Truthfully, I’d take Roach too but I suspect the horsemaster has his eye on her.”

“Geralt?" Percival asked. He shook his head. "He can’t afford her.”

“You’re kidding.” What a shame. Jaskier had never met a horse and a rider so in tune with one another. He had just taken it as fact that Geralt would be taking Roach home with him. For the first few weeks, until gruffly corrected by Geralt, Jaskier had assumed that Geralt owned Roach and had brought her to set in the first place.

Though, looking back, it was a foolish thing to think. Roach and Valdo had been paired together for the duration of the filming and Geralt's stony glare anytime the actor mounted the mare...well, Jaskier would assume that if Roach had belonged to Geralt, he would have banned Valdo from riding her.

“Already asked him. I went to give him the info because I thought the same as you. Figured he’d be first in line but he didn’t even consider it. Poor fella. I didn’t want to push, you know?”

“Good man.” Jaskier stroked Pegasus and his eyes drifted over to Roach.

----------------

Zoltan's head poked through the door of office had housed the horse crew for the past few months. It hadn't become home, certainly, but the production team had put together a good group. Geralt would be keeping the contact information of more than a few riders and trainers in hopes of working with them again on future projects.

"You headed out, Rivia?"

"Almost packed. Just wanted to stop by the stables." The production auction had already happened but Geralt hadn't heard of any of the horses being moved out just yet. That kind of transport, especially if they weren't being kept local, took time to arrange. He had double-checked too. There was plenty of time for him to say goodbye to Roach. Give her a few extra treats, a good brushing down. The best sendoff a girl could ask for, really.

And she deserved a proper goodbye. Geralt had second-guessed himself, knowing how much it would hurt to say farewell but he couldn't help himself. Between the actors and the long shoots, all the horses deserved some post-production pampering. Geralt hoped the rest of them would get it once they were with their new owners and families.

"Surely you're doing more than stopping by."

"What?"

Zoltan gave him a perplexed look. "Roach, I mean. You're taking her with you, aren't you?"

"Can't afford her," Geralt said, trying not to grit his teeth. He had only said it aloud once before. When Percival had asked for his future plans. All of the horses were auctioned off at the end of the production, along with various bits and bobs that the studio didn't want to keep or store.

Roach was a prize mare, along with many of the other impressively bred horses in that stable.

Geralt would have loved to take her back to the ranch and shared stables that he ran with his family but it just wasn't in the cards. It was kind of the manager to even come to him and inquire. It spoke volumes about what Geralt had accomplished over the course of the shoot. At least with that gesture, Geralt knew he'd have a reference for future jobs. Perhaps not just for him but for the ranch too.

"But she's in your name. Isn’t she?"

"What are you talking about?"

Zoltan came into the room now, still looking at Geralt as though the man needed his head examined. He spoke slowly. "Geralt, I saw the finalized auction list. She's been paid for already and your name is on the front of her paddock."

Geralt froze. Surely Zoltan misread or even misunderstood. Geralt's name's was occasionally listed on paperwork as a handler if a buyer wanted to know more about a horse's temperament. But not as the owner or buyer.

He slowly backed away from Zolton and calmly headed towards the stables, and Roach's stall. He did not want to sprint eagerly or get his hopes up so instead, Geralt inhaled and exhaled every other measured step.

Roach's ownership papers were slipped in a plastic sleeve with a little metal hook attached so it remained securely on the nails of the stall door. Little dried stains and dirt covered the plastic and Geralt imagined Roach trying to get at her own papers.

Geralt von Rivia.

Undeniably, there in black and white. Geralt blinked, not believing his own eyes.

But still, there it was: Geralt von Rivia.

"Ah, Geralt!" The stablemaster came up to him, clapping him on the shoulder. "I had heard that you weren't able to bid. What a lovely surprise when I saw the name." Roach stretched as far out of her stall as she could manage, just reaching Geralt to nudge him. "And it looks like she agrees as well."

"But I didn't bid," Geralt said, confused. He stared at the paperwork for an extended period of time. He just couldn't believe it. Even encased in plastic that had corners peeling away at the top, it looked as officially legal as the other ones hangin off of the rest of the stalls in the stable.

"What?"

"I didn't bid. I told them that I couldn't. I didn't— I don't..." Geralt tilted his head and looked at the placard attached to the paddock. Geralt von Rivia and Roach.

How?

"I don't think anyone would be so cruel to play on a joke on you like this, mate."

"How can I check?"

The stablemaster pulled out his phone and held up a finger. Geralt didn't argue but watched the man dial a number and take a few steps away.

Roach stretched her neck again so her entire head came through the opening above the stall.

"Hello, girl." Geralt used both hands to rub at her face. He couldn't help it. Even if his name on the paperwork ended up being a cruel joke, he could imagine her at his family's ranch. She wouldn't take shit from the bigger stallion his brother kept and she'd teach their other mares to do the same.

"I talked to the production office. Said she's yours. The bid was placed anonymously."

"What? Anonymously?" Geralt looked at Roach as though she had the answers but the stablemaster continued to talk.

"They also included shipping costs as well as extra for feed, care, special needs, etc. A retainer essentially."

"Anonymous? How could they manage that?” Geralt leaned against the stall door, brain going into overdrive. He wasn't even sure where to start.

The stablemaster clearly could tell, and his voice softened, speaking as he would to any of the horses in the building. Geralt couldn't find it in himself to angry. It was a strange version of kindness that, in his overwhelmed state, he had no option except to accept. "It's all in the paperwork."

"Can I get a copy?"

"She's yours, Geralt, of course. Her and the paperwork."

Geralt looked at the paperwork attached to the stall and began to slide it out of its protective slip. He balanced his phone in one hand and the papers in the other as he slowly began taking photographs of each one. "I want to send the information to my friend before I— before I take her home."

"A lawyer, you mean."

Geralt nodded. "Just to double check."

“Smart man. Let me know if I can be of anymore help.”

Mercifully, the stablemaster left and Geralt let himself slide down the stall door. He knew he'd have to change pants before leaving now but he couldn't bring himself to care. He leaned his head back against the door.

He squinted at the sun through the windows as he struggled to hear the phone ringing amidst the breakdown of the rest of the set.

“Geralt.”

“Yenn.” Geralt couldn’t manage more than that. He took a deep breath to try again but Yennefer stopped him.

“Geralt? Are you all right? I thought you were still on location for that god awful film.”

“I am. I’m still there. I just. Something’s happened. I’m fine,” he added quickly. “It’s just strange.”

“Explain.”

"If someone bought you something anonymously, is there a way to tell who it was?"

"A gift? What kind of gift has you this shaken up? I am going to need so much more context, Geralt. Not to mention lunch and permission to laugh at you for whatever this is once you're back in the area.” Yennefer stopped talking and Geralt heard a few voices, none of them hers. “That is, I assume you're not back in the area yet. I just saw Eskel at the market last week. He would have mentioned it."

"No we— the film just wrapped. Everything was being broken down and there was an auction but." Geralt took a breath and gathered his words. "The horse I talked to you about."

"The smart one, yes." Yennefer's voice grew quiet and sympathetic in a way that would have surprised Geralt when they first met. But she knew what horses meant to him and respected it. They had both come a long way with one another. "I'm sorry. I know you wanted to buy her."

"That’s the thing, Yenn, someone bought her for me. I just received the paperwork. They paid for her, the board, and transportation back to the ranch. Not to mention a little more if needed. What could be needed?"

"Maybe they thought since you couldn't afford the price of the horse, you couldn't afford food, medical care, things like that."

"Oh." Geralt couldn't decide if that was insulting or thoughtful. Most people on set only saw him in his barn clothing so perhaps they couldn't be blamed for the assumption. He certainly didn't attend any social gatherings after the work day. The cost of Roach had held him back, not the care.

"You don't know who it could have been? Not a clue?"

"I'm...not exactly friendly to people on set," Geralt growled. “I certainly didn’t endear myself to that Marx asshole who rode her during filming.” He hated being on set but he was there to do a job and at least if he was there, he knew someone was protecting the animals.

"You do want her, right?"

"Of course I do," Geralt gripped the phone tightly. "I just want to make sure it wasn't some kind of mistake. Or strings attached. That she can't just be taken away at all in the future."

"All right. I'll look into it. Send me everything and give me a few hours."

"Thank you."

----------------

Geralt von Rivia.

Jaskier shifted all of Pegasus’ equipment to one arm so he could reach out and touch the paper. It felt good to see.

He looked around the stable to check he was alone before giving Roach one last pat. He kissed her on the nose and whispered, “Goodbye.”

----------------

Geralt’s entire afternoon had to shift. No longer could he throw his duffel bag in his truck and endure the long drive home. Instead he spent the day asking for another night in one of the spare rooms near the set. He went to ask after borrowing a trailer, only to find that it was one of the included costs with the purchase of Roach and far too nice for his truck.

Most importantly, he spent time with Roach. She was the last horse left at the end of the day. He had avoided people by hopping into her stall at some point, the stables full of agencies and buyers coming to collect.

A few people stopped to read the paperwork outside Roach and Geralt couldn’t stop his pride from rising. She was a star, great stock but even better temperament. And she was all his now.

Thankfully, by the time Yennefer called, no one was in the stables to hear a mobile phone start ringing inside one of the stalls.

“That was fast.”

“I’m very good at my job, Geralt.” Geralt wisely held his tongue. “Right so. Roach was bought and paid for by a Julian Alfred Pankratz."

Geralt blinked. He looked to Roach as though she could answer his questions. “I...I don't know a Julian-- whatever. Whatever name you just said to me."

Yennefer gently, "I think he's more commonly called Jaskier."

"Jaskier?"

"Yes, Jaskier. You know, one of the stars of the film series you've been working on the past few months."

Geralt bit back a growl. Yennefer was doing him a favor. He didn't need to be a twat. "I know who he is. I don't know why he bought Roach though."

He had certainly never been kind to Jaskier. If anything he had been a downright grump. Which wasn't much different from how Geralt treated most of the actors. Even the ones who had been nothing but kind to him.

He just couldn't risk it. The cast were a load of gossips and each week, Geralt heard something different about Jaskier and his coworkers. Geralt hadn't wanted to get involved.

It wasn't worth his time to be a notch in the bedpost for an actor who apparently had paramours throughout the cast and country, if the rumors were to be believed.

Clearly it hadn't mattered to Jaskier anyway.

"Bought and gave to you," Yennefer corrected. "Roach is in your name. I had to jump through some hoops to find this information. It wasn't easy. I don't think he intended on you ever knowing. He never mentioned it at all, correct?"

Most of the conversations Geralt had with the man were one-sided, or just corrections for his horse handling.

"Most of the actors left the day after the film wrapped. I haven't seen any of them save for a few who needed re-shoots with some of the sets we still had." His fist tightened around his phone. “I only told one person that I couldn’t afford Roach. He's not the type to pass around gossip.”

"I don't think Jaskier meant anything bad by it, Geralt."

"I just don't...understand."

"Me neither but unless you'd also like me to follow up, perhaps get in touch with his management?" She left the question hanging in the air and Geralt's face reddened at even the mention of talking to Jaskier again. It wasn't the man who had him worried but the whole process. Going through his team and agent just to ask why? What if he took back the gift?

Yennefer read his mind, as per usual. “He can't take Roach back, Geralt. I made sure of it but honestly, it looks like he is the one who made sure of it. No strings."

"No strings."

"Do you want me to try and find out why? Have you looked at her teeth? Perhaps you might want to look a gift horse in the--"

"Yennefer," Geralt growled.

"Take Roach back to the ranch, Geralt. I'm sure your family will be excited to meet her."

----------------

"Is this my welcome?" Geralt hadn't even gotten out of his truck yet but he was tempted to make a u-turn and leave the ranch the same way he came in. He wasn't sure where he and Roach would go but anywhere would be better than his little brother giving him a suspicious expression the moment he pulled into the driveway. Eskel pushed Lambert to try and snap him out of his daze. "Well, are you just going to look at me like that or are you going to say hello?"

"Did we know you were bringing home a horse?" Eskel asked delicately while Lambert just continued to stare.

"I didn't even know I was bringing home a horse." Geralt slammed the driver's side door shut and caught Eskel in a hug. He snagged Lambert too even though the little shit tried to wriggle away after two seconds.

Lambert went through his fingers on a very short checklist. "Aiden was hoping you'd break your rule of no autographs for this one. But you didn't do that. And you brought home a horse."

"We've got a free stall, right?" Geralt looked towards the stables. They rarely had a full house unless they were hosting some kind of trail camp. Still, he hadn't even thought of calling home to check.

"She's staying?"

"She's mine." Geralt handed Eskel the paperwork and Lambert immediately hung over his shoulder to read through it.

Eskel's eyes widened at the sight of her lineage. "How did you afford--"

"I didn't. It's…a long story."

"You didn't steal a horse, did you? Someone is going to be looking for this girl."

"She's not stolen. Her name is Roach." Geralt ran his finger through his hair, pulling at the tangles from having the window open on the long ride back home. "Melitele, can we not do this now? Let me get her settled and then I'll tell you about it."

Eskel and Lambert exchanged a look and Eskel shoved Lambert off his shoulder. "Lambert, go tell Dad that Geralt's home. When does the trailer have to go back?"

"They bought that too."

"The trailer came with the horse?" Eskel waved his hand after seeing the pained look on Geralt's face. "All right, don't tell me. I know you don't want to explain it more than once."

He left Geralt to blessed silence. Silent as a farm could get, at any rate. He patted Roach's flank and coaxed her out of the trailer, leaving it unlocked and opened behind him. The ranch was isolated enough as it was and he'd be back for it soon enough.

"This is Scorpion. That's Kelpie," Geralt introduced Roach to each horse as he walked her by their stalls, finally coming to an empty one. He eyed up Scorpion, already thinking ahead. Eskel's stallion was of good lineage. It wouldn't be a bad match to think of for the future.

He hung around the stable as long as he thought he was able to. Just because one of his brothers hadn't been sent out to fetch him yet didn't mean that Vesemir hadn't already planned it. Geralt patted Roach one last time and headed out.

The farmhouse smelled just as he left it, like horse and his father's cooking. The first an unfortunate by-product of their lives but the second, a welcome back.

They didn't all still live in the house. Eskel had a cabin on the furthest edge of the land with a herd of goats that they rented out and kept for milk. Lambert and Aiden had just moved to another patch of acreage on the opposite side before Geralt had left for the film shoot. From what Geralt could gather from Eskel's texts, they swapped out more nights than one making sure someone was there to help Vesemir with the morning chores.

"Hey Dad." Geralt leaned in and let his Vesemir clap him on the back.

"Good to have you home." Vesemir's gruff voice washed over Geralt and he felt something in his shoulders settle. He took the offered bowl of stew and purposefully brushed against both Eskel and Lambert on his way to sit at the table.

"Good to be home."

Lambert, mouth full of beef stew, used his dripping spoon to gesture to the TV.

“You worked with him, right?”

"Who?" Geralt looked up from his bowl. There was an entertainment show on the television but it had gone commercial. Lambert rolled his eyes at him.

“Jackass. Jaskier. They had a whole segment on him."

Geralt swallowed and before he could overthink it, told them, "That’s the one who bought Roach. Bought her in my name, I mean."

Eskel near choked on a beef chunk, "What?"

"Him?" Lambert's eyes widened. He shot a look at Vesemir. "Did you, uhh--" but he didn't get a chance to finish because Geralt threw a chunk of bread at his head.

"I didn't sleep with him, you ass. I don't know why he did it. I wasn't even supposed to know, according to Yennefer."

Geralt wished he knew why. It was an itch he couldn't scratch, though having Roach home and in her stall was a significant balm. He accepted another slice of bread from Eskel.

"She checked it out?" Vesemir asked knowingly. "Everything is all right?"

"The paperwork all checks out. No strings," Geralt echoed Yennefer's earlier words.

"Good lineage," Eskel added slowly. "There’s no issues with her health?”

Geralt nodded. "None that I know of. I'm going to call in Coën tomorrow to give her a full check-up and we'll go from there. I don't think there will be a problem though."

Lambert shrugged at Eskel who still looked suspicious. He eyed the door that led out closest to the barn as if he wanted to go interrogate Roach to find out more. “Oh. Well, I guess a person who buys a horse anonymously as a gift can’t be that big of an ass then like the papers say, right? Was he?”

“Was he what?”

“An ass. Was Jaskier an ass?” Lambert asked again.

Geralt pondered the question. He hadn't expected to think this much about anyone from the cast after production had set down. Definitely not Jaskier.

Truthfully, Jaskier had been the furthest thing from an ass. Sure, he had gotten to the stables earlier than the other actors but it was a strange thing for Geralt to complain about considering how late the rest of the cast were for their training sessions. He cared about the horses too. It had been sweet.

"What are you on about?" Vesemir grumbled.

Lambert, mouth full of stew, looked at Eskel imploringly, fighting to swallow. Eskel tilted his head towards the television. "The lad who bought Geralt his horse apparently got on the bad side of some folks. The gossip shows say they've been spreading rumors about him for months."

"Did he say that? Jaskier." Geralt's attention suddenly back on the television. The b-roll footage of a posh gentleman on the red carpet was not the same man covered in a dirt -covered costume after a ride or a long shoot, that was for sure. It still was Jaskier though.

"No one's heard from him. It's all come out now after the production's ended."

Eskel plucked a newspaper off of the counter and passed it over to Geralt who took it but kept it closed. Jaskier's face was on the cover or it would have been if his hand hadn't blocked the photograph from the view. "Wouldn't be surprised if he sued them for libel though. Judging by what they're saying in here, he's certainly got a case."

FALSEHOODS AND PRODUCTION WOES the newspaper headline shouted. Geralt ran through the first few lines of the article and felt the pit in his stomach begin to grow.

“I heard some of these.” He had been on more toxic sets in the past. With more difficult actors trying to make passes at him, sometimes aggressively. Thinking that crew should be lucky to get their attention. Television shows, soap operas had been worse. But this still hadn't been good. And Jaskier had been nothing but kind to him. Annoying, perhaps early in the morning but, certainly nothing like the rumors had suggested. Still Geralt had done his best to ignore him.

“No kidding? Maybe they’ll call you in to testify.”

Geralt leaned against the counter and stared the newspaper, hoping no one else heard the roaring in his ears.

Perhaps there had been another reason Jaskier was hiding in the stables each morning instead of by the breakfast tables in the craft tent.

Certainly Geralt had taken his solace in the company of animals before. Jaskier had clearly just been doing the same.

----------------

“You have more security out in the country. That’s the whole point of the privacy fence,” Priscilla argued. Jaskier had been sneaking peeks through the blinds for the better part of the morning. His face had gotten paler with each glance.

“I know you’re right.”

“I am. London will still be here when this all blows over. Or when a judge makes it blow over.” Jaskier sighed. Priscilla hated seeing him like this, curled up on the couch, phone turned off. Country life would be pleasant in more than one way.

“You can bond some more with that horse you’ve got. I’m sure he missed you.”

“I’ll just have to come back to the premiere,” Jaskier warned. “You won’t have the flat to yourself for too long.”

----------------

"Zoltan."

"You're going."

"Going where?"

"To the premiere."

"We're a little busy here." Geralt gazed around the quiet stables and winced at the phone in his hand. What Zoltan didn't know wouldn't hurt him. The last thing Geralt wanted to do was take the journey into London and be around people that he didn't even socialize with when he was paid to.

"All the crew is invited and the production team is insisting the crew come so they don't look like asshats. Please come keep me company," Zoltan near begged.

"Too late for that isn't it?" Geralt thought back to the television stories and the articles about Jaskier.

Sure, maybe Geralt had given into his curiosity and googled Jaskier's name a few times after his first night home but the man really had vanished. No photographer had been able to capture any images of him and his team weren't responding to any questions.

Geralt wasn't sure if it was Jaskier's team at work or someone in his corner but certainly he had read a few articles about instances of Jaskier's kindness. He had experienced that first hand and judging by the rest of the stories, he felt they had to be true. Most of Jaskier's generosity came anonymously but he hadn't always been as good at covering his tracks as he had been with Roach.

"Well, perhaps. Valdo made sure of that."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, I just meant. All those rumors he spread about Jaskier. Turns out this wasn't the first person who he had done this too. I heard tell that Valdo is going to be blacklisted in the industry and then sued for gossip. Defamation or something. I'm not too sure. It'll be out in the papers soon enough."

"Libel," Geralt murmured, thinking back to the articles he had read. "Even I heard gossip around the set."

"I didn't believe any of it, personally. Jaskier was always a polite fellow and some of it was nasty. Well, I'm sure you didn't either. Otherwise Jaskier wouldn't have done you that solid."

"What solid?"

Zoltan was quiet for a beat too long.

Geralt sighed. One more piece of the puzzle. "You mean Roach. I know he bought Roach for me. But how did you know?"

"Ah well..."

"I had to go through a lawyer to find out," Geralt added.

"I did the paperwork," Zoltan admitted. "He did want it to be anonymous but I thought that was just so production couldn't give him a hard time about buying two horses."

"He bought another horse?"

Zoltan paused again. "He really never mentioned this to you? He was in the stables near every morning."

"For training."

"Not just for training. Though I guess we know now that he was just trying to stay away from Valdo and his cronies." Geralt wasn't sure what to say to that. He had never been anyone's idea of a respite and his guilt at knowing he hadn’t made the time easier for Jaskier still weighed on his mind. Though perhaps Jaskier had just been after the horses. "He bought the one he rode. Pegasus."

"Oh."

Geralt hadn't expected that. He knew Jaskier had gotten along with the horse, of course. That had been easy enough to see, sweet even. But it was still a surprise. A pleasant one.

There was something about Jaskier buying a horse for himself and for Geralt. As if the man understood the responsibility and the importance. He wasn't just buying Roach as a gift for whatever reason, he knew everything the job would entail.

"The premiere is in London. Should be a good time so long as no one leaks the news about any legal cases beforehand."

Geralt rubbed his hand over Roach's nose and made a snap decision. "I'll meet you there."

"Really?"

"You owe me a drink."

"Should be an open bar, mate."

"Well, that makes it easy for you then."

----------------

Geralt wasn't exactly keeping up with Jaskier's story but Aiden and Lambert watched enough entertainment news for the rest of them. Gossip papers would be left out around the barn by visitors without issue. If Geralt just happened to see that Jaskier hadn't been heard from in a few weeks since production shut down then, well, that was just a fact that lived in Geralt's brain.

One that he definitely didn't overthink. Not with the premiere already on his mind.

"It really was Valdo," Lambert had told him one morning. "Apparently he wanted that role of Jaskier's so badly that he decided that he'd try to make sure the guy would never have any other roles again."

Geralt didn't let on that he had known. Still, he hadn't thought about the creep since Zoltan had brought him up.

Valdo. Like Zoltan had said, it was no wonder Jaskier had always signed up to be the first person at the stables with Geralt. Valdo Marx would never deign to get to the stables early in the morning, even when it was a necessity that he do so.

"Loads of other actors apparently apologized for listening to Valdo. They'd been giving Jaskier the cold shoulder for weeks now. But still, no one has seen him."

"I can't blame him for wanting to take a break from acting. Even now with the rumors out, I think I'd find another industry to work in all together." Aiden shook his head. He looked up at Geralt hopefully, nudging Lambert conspicuously. "You haven't heard from anyone from set talking about it?"

Geralt gave Lambert an exasperated look. "I know you had overheard that conversation. I'm not taking either of you to the premiere. I'm staying for one drink and then getting on the train again."

"Told you so," Lambert muttered. "Fine. Be that way."

“Poor guy,” Eskel murmured. “I’d hide too if I just had to spend months contractually obligated with people all poisoned against me.”

Geralt kept his eyes down, wishing the conversation would change. Wishing he hadn’t been such a fool. At least he knew why Jaskier had always signed up to be the first person at the stables. Not that the information helped Geralt’s newly-acquired nausea.

----------------

It would be fine.

That's what Geralt kept repeating to himself on the tube ride into London.

Geralt would go in, have a drink with Zoltan, find Jaskier, thank him, and then never have to think of the man again. A strange sense of closure for someone he never had a relationship with, platonic or otherwise, but it was the right thing to do.

Everytime he looked at Roach or rode her around the ranch, he thought of Jaskier. It wasn't guilt or anything owed to the man. Geralt believed in the actor's earnestness and no-strings gift.

He managed to find Zoltan right away, the two of them hiding in a corner of the hotel bar through the actual film and more when crowds finally came back.

"I had wondered if Jaskier was even going to come," Zoltan confided in Geralt, leaning closer to the bar and looking over their shoulders as their lobby filled up.

"Because of Marx?"

Zoltan nodded. "I suspect there will be a healthy number of people keeping them away from one another."

"For good reason." Geralt tried not to be too obvious in his glances behind them but Zoltan knew enough of the cause. "Why come at all, I wonder?"

"Contract," Zoltan told him, pressing his lips thin. He shook his head at the thought. "It's written in the contracts that they've got to do press and this counts as press."

"The red carpet beforehand, surely. But I can't imagine a party is." Geralt shifted uncomfortably. The bar was filling up and he and Zoltan were getting squashed to one side already. The gracious and well-tipped bartender had thought ahead and topped the two of them off before the rush began.

"You've been in this business for a few years now. Surely you're not that naive."

Geralt finally caught sight of Jaskier. In a plain blue suit, unlike such patterned clothing he had worn even after Geralt had told him he’d only get the fineries dirty.

Without turning to look at the crowd or see if anyone was watching him, Jaskier hurried up the side stairs to where Geralt knew there was another reserved space, a small but grand library room that hadn’t been alrered since the 30s. He and Zoltan had stumbled upon it earlier in the afternoon while hiding from cameras.

"I'm more naive than I think sometimes." Geralt nodded to Zoltan and held out his hand. Zoltan took it to shake instantly. “It was good to see you. Call if you’re ever by the ranch. We’d be happy to have you.”

Following Jaskier’s path and manners, Geralt also didn’t look behind him as he slipped up the same stairs, closing the paneled door after him.

Geralt allowed himself a moment to look at Jaskier. The man had his coat in hand and was staring out of the rather large window flanked by two bookshelves.

“I just wanted to—“ Jaskier spun around, hand to his chest. Geralt took a step backwards. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Geralt,” Jaskier finally said, even though his heavy breaths were still evident. He stood up straight and blinked a few times too quickly. Geralt softened his voice, hoping to ease his nerves.

“Jaskier. I just wanted to catch you to say thank you.”

Jaskier flinched, just slightly. He tilted his head and looked at Geralt as though he was the picture of innocence, furrowing his brow slightly to sell the confused image.

"For what?"

"Jaskier," Geralt chastised. He was in no mood. He had been around far too many people this night. Jaskier thought so too judging by the fact that he had left the main party room for this quieter one. Still, Geralt knew that wasn’t the only reason. "Thank you for Roach."

Jaskier's mouth opened a bit and then closed again. He seemed to be eyeing how Geralt was blocking the only exit out of the room. "How do you know?"

"Was I not supposed to find out?"

"Well, it was— anonymous. I thought." Jaskier's confused expression tightened as though he was trying to remember the legal jargon he had gone through when setting up Roach's purchase and fund.

"I--" Geralt felt his face go a bit red with embarrassment at that. "I wanted to make sure she really was mine. No strings or anything. I had a lawyer friend look into it just to double check."

"Right.” Jaskier shook his head, a few locks of hair coming loose from their coiffed position. “Yes, of course."

Geralt hated that Jaskier was agreeing with him. As if it was perfectly all right for Geralt to be suspicious of a gift and also of Jaskier himself. What a pair they were.

"Look," Jaskier held up his hands in front of him, "I know you don’t like me and I didn’t to it so you’d be— beholden to me or forced to pretend to like me or whatever. You weren’t supposed to find out. But that awful man from production was going to buy her and I couldn’t let that happen and I had heard that you were had turned down the opportunity which just seemed wrong. I mean, she’s clearly your horse and—"

"Thank you." Geralt said firmly. “Just...thank you."

"Oh. You’re welcome." Jaskier swallowed and chanced a look out the window again. Geralt watched him, very aware that he had done what he came to do. Still he couldn’t make himself leave.

"Are you planning on hiding here all right?"

Jaskier shrugged. "I haven’t decided yet.”

Geralt wasn't sure what to do with that one.

"Would you like to come visit Roach?" He tried next.

Jaskier still looked uncomfortable.

“Right now?”

Geralt remembered the early training calls, how quiet Jaskier was when other people began to come around the barn, the rumors he heard even his first week on set. How he had let them affect the way he handled being around Jaskier more than anyone else. Fuck.

"Where do you live?" Geralt asked suddenly, not realizing the strangeness of the question.

"What?" Jaskier seemed taken aback which was more than fair.

"I only meant— Here in London or LA or New Yo--"

"Here. England, I mean. I’ve got a little place a little ways outside of London."

That could be anywhere, Geralt didn’t say. Jaskier still looked uncomfortable. His shoulders were hunched and he was holding himself tightly with his arms straight down at his side so his hands could be shoved into his pockets.

It had been weeks since they had seen each other last and Geralt just. He had so many things to say now but couldn't make the right words come out of his mouth.

He thought about Jaskier every time he rode Roach around the farm. He wished that it was just the two of them at 6am on the training set again. Jaskier on Pegasus and Geralt on Roach, going through the obstacle courses.

He wanted a second chance to ignore rumors and laugh at Jaskier's jokes and flirt back at him. Geralt had that open Jaskier still in his mind, who was so pleased to see both Geralt and the horses even though it was barely past dawn and he had had a late shoot the previous night.

"Did you really buy Pegasus too?" Geralt asked, even though he already knew the answer.

Jaskier blushed. "I did. He's with me. Well, a stable near me. I know I'm not the greatest at care as you saw it but I visit him and ride as often as I can." His smile was soft just thinking about the horse and Geralt again ached, thinking about the morning dew, riding with Jaskier around the ring. The soft voice that he used for the horses regardless of who could hear him.

"You’re welcome to come see Roach anytime. Especially if you want to bring Pegasus. My father’s ranch is remote and private. Sometimes we get writers or other people stay for retreats in some of the smaller cabins."

Jaskier still looked uncomfortable. Upset, even. He had taken his hands out of his pockets and he was leaning backwards, clutching the window frame. Geralt wondered how much acting he did on a daily basis.

He really hadn’t meant for Geralt to find out about Roach.

"He's really fine. I promise," Jaskier said quietly.

Geralt swallowed his nausea at just how still Jaskier was holding himself. At how Jaskier thought Geralt only inquired after Pegasus because he assumed Jaskier couldn’t take proper care of him.

And that was Geralt’s fault. For listening to rumors. For being colder to Jaskier as the shoot weeks had gone on. The man had sometimes beaten Geralt to the stables in the morning and in return, Geralt had barely spoken to him.

"I have no doubt that he is enjoying your care. As well as you sneaking him too many treats," Geralt joked, trying to lighten the mood. He hadn't mean to imply that Jaskier wasn't taking proper care of Pegasus. That hadn't been it at all. He was just. He wanted to be near Jaskier. He didn’t want to leave him just yet.

He took his eyes off of Jaskier's and they fell to his long fingers. Even though he was facing Geralt, Jaskier’s fingers were clutching the window lip.

He hadn’t been looking out the window or catching his breath in an empty room.

Jaskier had been trying to get out onto the fire escape.

Of course.

Geralt sighed, he could feel a dull ache behind one of his eyeballs. Perfect. He had already caused Jaskier enough panic for one night and now a headache. He slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.

"Here is a card for my friend. She’s a fantastic lawyer and if you mention my name, she’ll take you on. She might laugh but she’ll do it. The laughing will mostly be at me,” he added. "You might not need her, of course. But she's the one who helped figure out it was you who got Roach for me."

Jaskier took the card from Geralt's outstretched hand and near cradled it in his hands. "Thanks."

"Do you want help opening the window that you were trying to escape out of?"

There was a spark in his eye that Geralt hadn't seen in months and he was willing to bet he wasn't the only one who missed it.

"Please."

Geralt used one hand to gesture for Jaskier to move out of the way and he did, with almost too much glee. There was a bounce in his step that Geralt was relieved to see. None of the tabloids or entertainment shows could see that when they talked about him.

He carefully examined the large window. The expansive sash was sturdy enough but Geralt was more than a match for its age. He reached up and unlocked the top before heaving under the lip.

It opened without issue.

“Thank you so much,” Jaskier gushed. He didn’t even wait for Geralt to move out of the way before climbing into the fire escape. He turned to look back at Geralt. “I really appreciate it.”

Geralt gestured again, this time for Jaskier to step back, further out the window.

"What are you doing?" Jaskier asked as Geralt had one foot out the window.

Geralt raised an eyebrow. “I opened the window. Am I not also allowed to climb out of it?"

"I guess." Jaskier looked bewildered. “There’s still a party downstairs.”

"I think you know me well enough to know that it’s not my kind of party.” Geralt enjoyed seeing the flush on Jaskier’s face at the possibility that the two of them might know one another at all. “I'm not letting you fall down the fire escape."

"Just because my upper body strength is lacking doesn't mean I've never climbed down a fire escape before," Jaskier argued even as he made for the ladder.

God, did Geralt want to know that story. He could do nothing but follow Jaskier.

Out of the window, down the fire escape, and to the ground, where Jaskier landed safely with a soft "Oomph."

"Thank you,” he told Geralt again. Then, before he could lose his courage, he added, “It was good to see you again.” He took off down the street, collar popped up around the lower half of his face.

Geralt wanted to call after him, invite him to get a drink, spirit him away before the cameras out front could find him. He imagined them getting the tube together and riding away all while Jaskier huddled closer to him, whether for warmth or so no one recognized him. Geralt fantasized the worst case scenario, with himself stepping in as the hero for Jaskier, blocking him from the cameras.

In the end, he watched Jaskier, hunched over himself in a foreboding navy coat, make his way around the corner. And then he went home to the ranch and told Roach all about it.

----------------

“Just like that?” Priscilla asked, graciously not mentioning the fact that Jaskier had put on her favorite sweatpants or that he had heart eyes whilst talking about this mysterious horse guy.

Jaskier shrugged, swirling a wine glass with one hand. “Just like that. I’ve gotten a new agent. A new lawyer seems like a good place to start.”

“And you trust him?” Priscilla held up the card. “He couldn’t afford a horse and yet has a friend who works here?”

“She’s how he found out I bought the horse for him.”

“Your funeral.”

----------------

"Geralt von Rivia," Yennefer's voice came through his phone. Geralt winced and so did Eskel even though he was near three meters away. Yennefer only used their full names when they were in trouble. "Did you give some twink my number?"

"Can you help him?"

"Yes, I believe I can. i just wanted to check his story."

"He bought Roach for me."

"Yes, the mystery-horse buyer. I remember." Yennefer's quiet voice used to grate on Geralt. He never knew what it meant. He used to think he was a fool but as their relationship developed, he realized that Yennefer's version of caring contained a lot of frighteningly quiet determination.

"I wasn't supposed to find out, apparently."

Geralt wasn't grumpy about the situation.

He wasn't.

He just wished that everything was different. That was all.

"Well, he didn't anticipate you having me for a lawyer." Yennefer paused and Geralt heard some paper rustling in the background. "Did you know about all this? His situation, I mean.”

“I’ve heard rumors.” Geralt didn't mention that he had been reading Lambert's discarded tabloids and doing some googling of his own.

“Rumors of the situation or the rumors being spread about him on set?”

“The latter,” Geralt mumbled, embarrassed. "Both, I suppose. Lambert reads the tabloids. So does Aiden."

“No wonder he talked himself in circles about you. His friend had to stop him twice from rambling on.”

Geralt wanted to ask about that but he knew Yennefer wouldn't answer. Or couldn't, with a confidentiality clause.

“Can you fix it?”

She scoffed. “Of course I can. It’ll be a bit messy but luckily, this isn’t the only lawsuit against this guy. Tons of evidence and witnesses too. He managed to get a new agent who hasn't been doing half bad of a job. Don't worry, Geralt. I'll protect him.”

"Marx?"

"Yes. It's not the first time he's done this either." Then, softer. "I'll help him, Geralt. I promise."

"Thank you."

----------------

“Jaskier!” One of the farmer’s son sprinted up to him, coming to a stop once he reached the stables. Jaskier had just gotten himself onto Pegasus for the day. “We had a man come round asking about you yesterday. Dad wanted you to know.”

“Here?” Jaskier dismounted quickly and looked around the farm to the tree line, expecting the press to come racing at him after the teen. "Take a breath, Matthew."

Matthew and the rest of his family had been nothing but kind to Jaskier since he had started boarding Pegasus at their farm. He hated to think they were being harassed by some reporters.

“One of those newspaper people. Had a camera and everything.”

Jaskier's heart sank but Matthew shook his head.

“Posh twat!” One of the farmhands yelled from the loft. “We ran him out!”

Jaskier didn’t bothering covering his mouth as he laughed along with Matthew. “He didn’t cause any trouble?” He asked earnestly.

“We said that we’d never heard of you," Matthew said proudly.

“Thank you so much.” Jaskier heaved a sigh of relief and leaned against Pegasus. He gave the horse a kiss and nodded to Matthew again. The boy, realizing just how close he and Jaskier were standing, blushed a bit before racing off.

----------------

It had taken Geralt a long time in his life to learn never to doubt Yennefer but it was a lesson that had stuck.

In keeping up with the news about Jaskier, Geralt had learned a lot about him. To the point where, when Jaskier’s best friend, Priscilla, was interviewed on the red carpet of her latest premiere and asked about the missing man, Geralt knew exactly who she was. It also meant that Geralt could properly appreciate her viciously telling the interviewer to fuck off.

Jaskier still hadn't worked on a film in weeks but Yennefer assured him it was for the best and that Jaskier was doing fine. Laying low was a part of the plan.

The successful plan as it so happened.

Lambert slapped the newspaper down on the breakfast table. Geralt and Eskel both jumped back.

"The guy who saved Roach has been saved!" He crowed triumphantly, dodging a spoon thrown by Geralt.

"Jaskier?” Eskel asked. “The trial went off all right?”

Lambert nodded towards the paper. “It says Marx was found guilty. So Jaskier and the other people he talked about are in the clear with any luck. Have you talked to him?"

"What?" Geralt looked up from the front page. Jaskier looked good in most outfits, of course, but the official black suit for court did nothing but match him to Yennefer, who was barely in the photograph, as the newspaper had tried so hard to cut her out.

"I know it says he won the case but he looks here miserable, mate.”

"Tabloid photos aren't real indicators of a person's well-being," Geralt said stiffly. Even though Lambert was right. Geralt kept picturing the animated Jaskier that he had been privileged to see for a whole thirty seconds at the premiere party.

"You texted him though, right?"

Geralt hummed. "Yennefer's helping him out."

Eskel and Lambert responded at the same time.

"That's not an answer to his question."

"That's not an answer to my question."

Sometimes Geralt really hated his brothers.

"You gave him Yennefer's name?" Eskel urged on.

“Must have,” Lambert commented, tapping on the partial shot of Yennefer buried under headline text.

"Her card." Geralt also remembered Jaskier's uncomfortable body language at the party. Curled in on himself, not meeting anyone's eyes and when he did, he looked right past them. Sometimes when Geralt closed his eyes he saw Jaskier's white knuckles against the windowpane, desperate to make an escape. Geralt provided that. He gave that to him. And Yennefer's information. "He seemed like he just needed someone in his corner."

"And now?"

"He's Yennefer's client right now. They're not friends. Yet,” he added. “Knowing Yennefer, it will depend on if she likes him or not."

Lambert turned back towards his breakfast but Eskel still had a knowing eye on his brother.

“Looks like it’s all wrapped up. He’s not her client anymore.”

"I don't have his number." Geralt admitted, just barely audible. “I never did.”

Eskel reached over and tapped on the screen of Geralt’s phone. "I bet Yennefer does."

----------------

Geralt: Do you have Jaskier's number? Yennefer: Finally. Yennefer: I can't give it to you. Yennefer: But I can give your information to him. Geralt: Thank you. Yennefer: He's sweet but skittish. Be gentle.

----------------

Yennefer: 033 0058 0058 Jaskier: What's that? Yennefer: Geralt's number.

Jaskier sighed and touched his thumb to Yennefer's name.

"You're calling the wrong number," she told him in lieu of a greeting.

"I don't know him," Jaskier argued. "We were never supposed to see each other again."

"I expect a gift basket after the wedding then."

"Shall I expect one for you and Priscilla?" Jaskier asked coolly. Thankfully, Yennefer laughed and he managed to keep going. "He didn't want to talk to me when we had to spend near every day together. I don't think I can manage a phone conversation if it's just me." He wasn't worried about being too honest. Not with Yennefer, not after the trial.

He'd woken up plenty of times in Priscilla's flat after an emotional night to Yennefer at the door with breakfast for all three of them.

Yennefer hummed and in a way, she sounded almost like Geralt. "You're right. Can I make another suggestion?"

----------------

Yennefer: Are you home today? Geralt: Yes Yennefer: All day? Geralt: Yes Yennefer: Good. Stay there. Yennefer: Or outside. By the driveway. Geralt: Why? Yennefer: Trust me, Geralt. It's a lovely day. Yennefer: Just enjoy yourself.

----------------

Geralt stuffed his phone back in his pocket and asked Roach, “What do you think?”

Roach just looked at him which was fair but Geralt’s heart started to race with the anticipation.

He couldn’t be sure of what was coming but he hoped. He left the stables and headed for the house. Sitting on the porch did nothing for Geralt’s nerves so instead he found himself standing in front of it.

Barely twenty minutes had gone by but still Geralt found himself picking the paint off of the porch railing.

An unfamiliar engine caught Geralt’s ear and he turned towards the front drive.

Then, there he was.

Jaskier.

In a shoddy little truck with faded red paint that was nearing pink. It looked as though perhaps Vesemir was only one old enough to have purchased it as new. He was towing a trailer behind him and Geralt would be willing to bet that he knew who was in there.

He also clearly didn’t know where to park. No doubt Yennefer had given him an address only. Geralt didn’t bother to hold back his enthusiasm, waving Jaskier towards the neat line of vehicles by the stables.

Geralt wondered if it would be too much to open the door for him but he remembered Yennefer’s words.

He's sweet but skittish. Be gentle.

Geralt could do gentle. He’d soothed plenty a horse in his time. So he hung back, just giving Jaskier what he hoped was an encouraging smile as he opened the car door himself.

"Um. Hello," Jaskier said shyly, a little nod of his head. With his priorities in place, he was already headed around to the trailer door. Geralt knew he was going to let Pegasus out but he couldn't help but feel as though Jaskier was trying to avoid contact with him at the same time.

He remembered how Jaskier needed to do something with his hands even on a good day, whether that was the infuriating clicking of the pen he used to make notes on his script or the constant twisting of Pegasus' leather reins around his fingers.

Geralt liked to think that this would be a good day but he knew how much courage it took for Jaskier to drive here with his horse.

Jaskier gave Pegasus a happy smile and guided him out of the trailer. It wasn't until the horse was solidly on the grass that Jaskier met Geralt's eyes again. Geralt could see that it wasn't just shyness. It was nerves.

Jaskier was biting at his lip and playing with the leather of the reins just like he had those mornings on set. "I wasn’t sure if the offer to visit was still there. Yennefer said—

"Yennefer was right," Geralt said quickly, beating Jaskier to the trailer door. He latched it shut, staring unblinkingly at Jaskier.

"Did Yennefer tell you to say that?"

“In my experience, it’s usually true,” Geralt joked. He took a step forward. "I'm...glad you're here."

"Oh. Oh, good," Jaskier sounded so relieved that Geralt wanted to convince him to stay forever. To gain confidence as Geralt did around his brothers, to be fed delicious meals by his father, and most importantly, to find peace with Geralt.

"I'm not...I'm not great over the phone anyway,” Geralt offered.

"I thought that might be the case,” Jaskier admitted honestly. “I wasn’t sure if I could stand to carry a whole conversation. Yennefer thought it would be easier for us just to..."

"Be together in person?"

"Well, I was going to say be with the horses. So we both have something to focus on if we need it." Jaskier lovingly stroked Pegasus and the horse nuzzled at him. Geralt had seen the same scene dozens of times over but that had been on set. Seeing it again here, on his family’s ranch was almost too good to be true.

"That works too." Geralt paused a moment and then urged Jaskier to follow him. “Come out to the barn. She’ll be excited to see you.”

Jaskier walked Pegasus through the stables. He let out the sweetest sigh upon seeing Roach again and Geralt never wanted Jaskier to leave the ranch again.

"Oh, hello, darling," Jaskier said quietly. Geralt took Pegasus' reins and Jaskier used his free hands to rub at Roach's nose. She leaned into the petting and Geralt wished he could take a photograph.

“I was a twat,” Geralt told him while Jaskier was distracted by a beautiful horse. “I’m sorry.”

Jaskier looked down and shrugged. “I’m sure you see all sorts on film sets. I can’t even imagine.”

“I bet you can.” Geralt stroked Pegasus. He unlatched Roach’s stall and gestured for Jaskier to lead her out. “You weren’t any trouble, you know.”

“I don’t know if you remember but you…you yelled at Marx one day. He was crowding me in the stable and Roach picked up on my mood and became irritated with him. You told him off.” Jaskier told all this to Roach and Geralt did him the courtesy of not commenting on it.

Geralt didn’t remember though. He had chased away dozens of actors from horses over the years. It didn’t surprise him that Marx had been one of them.

“I’m glad she was there to protect you. And I’m sorry I wasn’t more help.”

“I won’t say that it’s all right,” Jaskier said, with more strength than he looked. He swallowed and finally turned to Geralt. “It’s been…a long few weeks. Months, really. But we’re here now and—“

Roach nudged him again and he let out a little laugh. Some of the tension leaving him.

Roach nuzzled closer and Jaskier could tell she was eager to get out of her stall. “Yes, darling. I brought your old friend to come see you. I thought perhaps--" He looked at Geralt. "I thought perhaps we could go for a ride together? If you'd like."

"I'd love that," Geralt croaked, wondering how Jaskier could still be so brave after all this. That he was here and talking and asking Geralt to spend time with him. "Let me tack him up for you?" He asked, hand on Pegasus' flank.

Jaskier's brow furrowed. "I can do it."

"I know that you can. I want to do to it,” Geralt stressed. "Please," he added.

"Let's swap," Jaskier said, still lovingly petting Roach. "I haven't seen this girl in a while. It'll be nice."

"All right," Geralt agreed. He could see what Jaskier was doing.

It wasn't about a penance. Jaskier wanted them on some kind of equal footing. That was fair, Geralt supposed. Even though as of that specific moment, Geralt wanted to give Jaskier the world.

"Are you all right now?" Geralt asked, hesitating in a way that he hoped made an answer not necessary if Jaskier didn’t want to respond.

"Well, I don't know about 'all right,'" Jaskier huffed. His eyes were looking straight ahead. "Yennefer certainly settled some things. I'm not sure I'll be acting anytime soon. Or um, answering my phone calls. I've actually changed my number again. Remind me to give it to you."

"I'd like that." Geralt didn't mention that he never had Jaskier's number in the first place.

"It's not the press," he assured Geralt. "Just a lot of people trying to apologize or offering to support me. I'm talking to the same few who always believed me before everything, you know? Mostly just Priscilla and Yennefer right now."

Geralt didn't know. He was one of the people who...well, he's not sure that he believed the rumors. He wasn't someone to go around sets making friends regardless. But he had certainly heard the gossip, listened to it even.

He liked to think he made up for some of that but in actuality, Geralt knew it didn't matter. He'll always wish he had behaved differently when he first met Jaskier. He could have maybe had Jaskier in his life for so much longer. Could have supported him better during this shit time instead of just handing over Yennefer's card and begging her to take the case.

Geralt's mind was full of questions that he wasn't sure if he was allowed to ask. He wasn't even sure he wanted the answers either. What was Jaskier going to do now? Geralt knew that one was selfish because he so wanted the answer to include him.

They worked in silence to get the horses ready but it wasn’t a silence that Geralt minded. Especially not when it was broken every moments by Jaskier giggling whenever Roach tried to interrupt his actions. He watched Jaskier get up onto Pegasus before following on Roach.

“You could always keep Pegasus—“

"I was thinking maybe I could board Pegasus here? If you've got the room—"

"Yes!" Geralt said immediately, cutting off what he had started saying as well as Jaskier's nervous rant. He didn't want Jaskier to be unsure of himself ever again. Not where Geralt was concerned. "You could come by whenever you'd like. Hopefully...often," he let himself say, voice growing stronger as the sentence went on.

"Yeah?" Jaskier asked. Geralt couldn't look away from how his teeth trapped his bottom lip between them. He was grateful that they were both on horses, otherwise Geralt wasn't sure he could have stopped himself from taking his thumb and slipping the abused lip to safety. "I don't live too far away. I hadn’t realized.”

Geralt swallowed. He met Jaskier’s big blue eyes and knew his own were rounded in vulnerability. “Please."

Jaskier finally, finally, smiled at him in such a way that Geralt felt his chest loosen. Jaskier nodded and Geralt felt his heart beating in his chest again. He grinned back at Jaskier and felt something swirl around them.

“Stay for dinner? My brothers would love to meet you. My father too.” Geralt was horrified at himself. He hadn’t rambled on like this in years. He couldn’t stop himself. He didn’t want to stop himself, not when Jaskier was giggling and trying to hide it with a hand over his mouth. “My brother Eskel’s horse is the one I’m planning to pair Roach with but I’m making him grovel for it if you’d like to help.”

“That sounds nice,” Jaskier laughed openly at him. Geralt didn’t mind one bit. “I’d love to stay, thank you.”

“Thank you.”

Geralt couldn’t help but sneak peeks at Jaskier as they mounted. It seemed Jaskier didn’t mind, snorting each time he caught his former horse master. And then he did the same, with Geralt trying not to preen too much in response.

Jaskier told him about Priscilla and Yennefer meeting and how he couldn’t go to dinner with the two of them alone again, Geralt, please.

Geralt explained how the farm worked and how much he disliked being on set away from his brothers, even when the money was good. How mercilessly they had teased him about Jaskier when he had returned.

They rode through the ranch, to Eskel’s farm, and Geralt found that both of them were becoming freer with their laughs by each trot.

The two of them had a strange beginning and a tumultuous middle but perhaps, if Geralt and Jaskier worked for it, they could have a lovely end.

----------------

ao3 link here

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #the witcher fic

50 notes · View notes

lethesomething · 4 years

Text

The Ghost and the Witch, part 2

This is a continuation of The Ghost and the Witch (which you can read here), a small Ghost of Tsushima fic that I wrote to Deal With Things, but that needed extra fluff. So have that, I guess. There is also technically (?) smut, in the victorian sense where anything that happens is badly hidden in subtext and obvious symbolic imagery.

“You’re new.”

Jin startles at the voice that seems to come out of the air itself. It has been six days since his uncle brought him to Castle Shimura, and it’s the first time he’s ventured this far out into the garden by himself. The grounds are vast and meticulously kept, but this area feels different, a low corner near the outer wall, mostly obscured by a large cherry tree. The small plot of land is utterly covered in white and pink petals, but it looks like someone is also growing a kitchen garden here.

“Are you the Boy?”

The voice calls out again and this time he spots its owner: a young girl up in the tree. She looks about his age, with two braids coming down her shoulders and dressed in a hakama of some quality. She looks out of place, in as much as anyone looks wrong stuck in a tree.

“What are you doing there?” he asks.

The girl looks down at where she’s perched on a wide branch. “Sitting,” she says.

“Well. Yes, I can see that,” he concedes.

“The view is nice, you should try it sometimes,” she says with a half mocking smile. Then she starts clambering down. “They say lord Shimura has taken in a ward,” she goes on, as Jin takes a few steps forward, unsure of whether he should try to catch her. The girl ignores his panic and hops down in three calculated movements. “So that’s you, yeah?” she says when she drops to the ground.

“Yes,” Jin says, composing himself. “I am Jin.. Lord Sakai.”

The girl does another one of her half-smiles and then finally treats him to a proper bow. “Pleased to meet you, Jin Sakai. I’m ___. My father is the head of the guard.” She points to the nearby tower. “He can see halfway across the island from there.”

“Well it is an important strategic location,” Jin says, parroting his homework from the past few weeks. “Whoever controls the castle, controls the island.”

You tilt your head at him. “Sure,” you say. “It sounds like you’ll fit right in.”

He drifts into your house in the woods like leaves on an autumn wind, a quick slide of the door and suddenly he’s there, a presence that darkens the shadows cast by a late evening.

“Jin?” You look up from your work. “Are you alright?”

He says nothing, and that is answer enough. There’s something wrong with his posture, a slump, a wobble, and you rush up to meet him and pull him into the light of the fire.

“Show me.”

“It’s not as bad as it could be,” he mumbles, while you quickly remove his helmet and place it on the ground, antlers glistening a rusty red.

“What happened?”

“Mongols,” he says, his voice hoarse, “Perhaps a few more than I had anticipated.”

“Were you followed?”

“They’re dead.”

“Alright.” You loosen the straps of his gloves and take them off, before setting to work on his pauldron. The leather is wet, the bands caked in something slick that combines with the shaking of your fingers and makes them difficult to dislodge.

His hands, rough, scarred but surprisingly stable, fold over yours. “Let me.”

“Right,” you say and you hurry to fill a bowl with warm water by the fire. You open a box by the fire and rifle through it, fingers scurrying over boxes and pouches and pots until you find the clearing salts, which you dump in the bowl. When you turn back, Jin has taken off his pauldrons and untied his armor.

You point to a mat by the fire. “Sit.”

“It’s really not that bad, “ he says when you help him out of his chestpiece.

“If you have come here for my help, it’s bad enough.”

He does not argue. He sits quietly while you wipe away the blood and assess his wounds. The gash on his arm is shallow if jagged. But there’s a cut in his side that looks deep. The edges of it are laced with a grey, ashy dust that smells of poison and rot.

You clean it off as best as you can. “We’ll have to hope it is not infected,” you say.

He hums, a low sound that is more of a tremor than a response. You glance up to see his eyes are not looking at you, but through you, glass beads staring into nothingness. You put a palm to his forehead. Fever.

“Stay awake a little longer, Jin,” you find yourself saying, “I need you to hold this.” You smear ointment on his skin and place a piece of silk over it. Then you move his hand there. “Try to push down while I bandage this up.”

He nods absently and you set to work, moving as quickly as you can, trying to ignore the dangerous sway in his form, a mighty tree falling in slow motion. By the time you have bandaged his abdomen and his arm, he has mostly collapsed, barely staying on his knees, his head leaning against your shoulder to remain upright. His eyelids have fallen shut, although you can see his eyes twitch underneath. Perspiration beads on his forehead. “This will have to do,” you whisper.

With effort, you lay him down on the mat and cover him in blankets. His breath is ragged, shallow. You clear away your previous work and prepare a fresh bowl of water and a cloth, which you set by his side.

Outside, the wind howls an angry, desperate roar. You stoke the fire and brew a pot of tea. It will be a long night.

-----

Jin closes his eyes and breathes in the smell of early autumn. The salt in the air mixes with the earthy scent of leaves and wood fires. After his time away at training camp, it feels comforting to return to his uncle’s castle. He stalks the grounds like a cat, reacquainting himself with its many nooks and crannies, taking stock of the small changes in plants and people. The sound of running feet wakes him from his investigation and he turns, smiling to see you racing towards him.

You’re improperly fast, bounding down the path like a wild foal that has just discovered the joy of speed. “Jin!”

You abruptly stop just short of him, then take a breath and bow. “Welcome back, milord,” you say, and Jin has to bite back a laugh at the sudden politeness.

“Thank you,” he manages instead. “What made you so excited?”

You look up with a sparkle in your eye. “The camellia’s started blooming! Come see?”

You turn around and dash off again, your figure a fluttering, billowing sheet tugged off the clothesline by a strong gale, free to whirl and spiral down the path.

Jin shakes his head briefly and follows, measuring his pace while he watches you dance up the steps, until you stop and wait for him.

“You’re slow,” you say when he catches up.

“I’m Deliberate,” he argues.

“Why?”

“A samurai does not rush into things.”

You nod thoughtfully and slow down to match his step. “Did you learn that at camp?”

“I have been learning that for a while,” he says.

“Mmm,” you say, letting your fingers glide through the grass framing the path as you walk beside him.

“What else did you learn?”

He thinks on it a while, and then something resembling a smirk forms on his lips. “I’ve been learning about women,” he says.

You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Ryuzo says I should be careful with them. That some of them are out for my titles and money.”

You do not look convinced. “Who’s Ryuzo?” you ask.

“My friend.”

“Well he sounds like an idiot,” you say, shrugging.

“He’s not,” Jin starts saying, but when he looks toward you, your face is darkened. “Besides,” he says “I’m sure he didn’t mean, uh, you.”

“What I’m ‘women’,” you say in a mock guffaw.

“Depends on the definition,” he huffs.

“Oi!”

Jin chuckles and sets off running toward the cherry tree, now chased by a girl calling him mean.

When he reaches your small garden, the sight stops him in his tracks. The bushes, once a dull green, have sprouted dozens of small, perfectly formed pink and red flowers. They dot the garden like jewels glistening in the sun.

“Aren’t they beautiful?” you say, coming up behind him.

“They are,” he nods.

He reaches out to touch one, fingers brushing over the small, soft petals.

“My mother used to love these,” you say, wistfully running your hands over the leaves. “She’d wear them in her hair. She was so pretty.”

“I can imagine that,” Jin says quietly.

“Huh?”

He turns his attention back to the flowers.

“Why don’t you try one?” he says.

“I sincerely doubt it would suit me, Jin.”

He shakes his head and chooses a perfect red bloom, carefully picking it off the branch. “Here.”

He hands it to you but you just hold it in your palm, staring at it, and then at him.

“What?” he says. “Just try it. It will be like honoring your mother.”

“Right,” you mutter, and slide it into your braid.

“There,” he says. “That looks very nice. I bet your mother’s spirit looks down on you with pride.”

You gently touch the bloom, a soft smile on your face as you look around the garden, resplendent in sunlight. “Maybe,” you say.

----

Jin’s body feels heavy, as if he’s dropping to the bottom of a bog, weighed down with stones and pricked with a thousand knives. His skin burns and his veins are filled with lead.

He’s vaguely aware of movement next to him, of cool cloth soothing his forehead before his spirit sinks down into the muck again.

When he next wakes up, it is to the sound of wind rustling outside. He opens his eyes slowly, and tries to focus on the rafters high above him, laden with drying herbs. The smell of burnt wood hangs in the air and he becomes aware of a dying fire glowing to his side. He turns his head, and the movement feels like hammers pounding on an anvil.

On the ground next to him is a bowl, a pile of bloodied bandages and, a little further on, you, curled up against a stool. Your hair is tousled, your skirts gathered around you and your face buried in your arms in a way that looks uncomfortable.

The light of a winter’s morning seeps through a high window, casting long, stark shadows that stretch stalks into trees and bottles into towering columns. In the midst of it all your sleeping form stands out as an island of light, a sprinkle of silver dust in a sea of shadows.

Jin closes his eyes again and lays back. He’s weary, and the pain sears through his veins, but he no longer feels like he’s drowning. The sack of boulders that sat on his chest has lifted. “Thank you,” he whispers. “Again.”

---

Jin hurries down the steps to the cherry tree and finds you exactly where he expected, sitting amongst the fallen camellia’s. “Hey,” he says when he enters the space.

You do not move, don’t even shiver against the cold of a winter’s evening. “Hey,” you say.

The voice only barely sounds like you. A sound that he remembers being clear and melodious as birdsong is now nothing more than a scraping whisper, a tarnished bell filled with ash and sand.

He approaches carefully. “I came to find you,” he says. “People are worried.”

You shrug.

“I’m sorry,” he adds. “About your father.”

When he hears no response or protest, he takes his scabbard and slowly lays it before him, kneeling on the ground next to you. The two of you sit there, surrounded by the overly sweet, sickly smell of faded flowers.

“He died a warrior's death,” Jin says. “He was protecting this place. Protecting you.”

You say nothing, but he can hear you breathe. A series of choppy inhales, followed by long drawn out sighs.

“I understand,” he says. “How hard it can be. How difficult it is to face that loss. If there’s anything i can do-”

You shake your head. “Just sit with me for a bit?”

Jin nods and folds his hands into his lap. He closes his eyes and focuses on the quiet, on the shadows of the trees looming before him like stone monuments, on the cold sea wind carrying crystals of salt and ice to fill the sky above you.

----

“There’s a good horse.” Jin moves his arm to pat Kage’s mane but stops halfway, wincing at the stabbing pain in his side. “Looks like you’ll be resting here for a bit longer,” he says.

The horse nuzzles his shoulder, whinnying softly. Raindrops drizzle through the trees, cascading on an elaborate journey from branch to branch, only to fall to the moss beneath his feet with a dull, muffled plop.

Moisture fills the air in this small clearing, droplets so thick he can taste them on his tongue. It deepens the shadows and further obscures this place, the house already veiled by layers of green and black like a widow mourning the passing of the summer sun.

Jin carefully unties the bridle and takes it off. The horse immediately shakes out its head. “Feels nice, huh?” Jin says, and he moves to take off the saddle as well. “I’ll brush you down tomorrow, so enjoy the rain on your back while it lasts.”

His movements are slow and deliberate. The horse stomps its hoof.

“Alright, alright,” Jin says when he finally loosens the saddle. “Off you go.” The horse takes a few steps, and the saddle slides off, dropping to the rain scattered ground. “This needs cleaning anyway,” Jin sighs.

He watches as Kage wanders over to a basket of straw he put down and starts munching. Then he takes a deep breath and bends over to pick up the saddle, grimacing at the feeling of being sliced open once more. He straightens and blows out a breath. Kage eyes him from a distance. “Don’t you start,” Jin says.

When he enters the house, the scent that greets him is earthy, the herbs and wood he’s gotten used to now laced with something deep and gamey that makes his mouth water. He sniffs. “Hare?”

“It was in one of my traps,” you say, stirring a pot bubbling over the fire. “I figured you could use the strength.”

With that, you get up and take the saddle and bridle from him. “How are you feeling?”

“About the same as the last time you asked,” he says. “I’m… fine.” He walks over to the fire to sit down, and tries his very best not to flinch. He fails.

You give him a weary look.

“But I could probably use the strength,” he adds.

You nod and prop up the horse tack to dry. “How is he,” you ask.

“Stubborn.”

Another weary look.

“You don’t have to worry about Kage,” Jin says. “He’s not wounded, and he’s fine wandering around the forest for a bit.”

With a nod, you return to your cooking.You throw some chopped burdock root in the pot, and millet to thicken it. The feeling of being watched makes you look up.

Jin sits, watching you make stew with a soft grin on his face.

“What?” you say.

“Nothing,” he chuckles. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“But?” you ask, returning to your work.

“There was a time when I would wonder what it could be like,” he says. “If you were to make something like this for me. Lord Shimura’s cook said you were quite talented, though I don’t think she approved of the random plants you’d bring in.”

You laugh. “One of the teas I brewed for her did end up giving everyone strange dreams,” you say.

He blinks at you.

“It was an accident,” you add.

“Of course,” he says. “Either way, I used to imagine scenarios like this, embarrassing as that may be.”

“Were you half-dead in those daydreams, Jin?”

“No,” he says. “I was quite healthy, and content, and we were living in Omi.”

You nod, as if you can see the images yourself. “That would have been nice.”

He watches in silence for a while, matching the pictures from his teenage dreams to the vision in front of him. The girl, the woman, the fire and the smell of game. The knicks on your hand and the frayed edges on your garment. “I’m sorry,” he says.

You smile and shake your head. “Life rarely goes how we imagine it as children.” Then you sit back. “Do you regret it?” you ask softly. “Looking back on everything now?”

You’re not the first to ask, and the answer is no different now. “The actions I chose,” he says, voice only slightly hoarse this time. “I would do them all again.”

You nod. “That’s alright then.” And with that you pick up a small bowl and scoop it full of stew, before handing it over. “It’s not the most glorious meal you’ve ever had, but it will do.”

The two of you eat in silence for a while, nothing but the sound of crackling fire and the occasional huff outside, from Kage plodding around in the clearing in front of the house.

“This is good,” he says.

You nod. “Of course it is.”

“I should have known you’d be confident,” he snorts. “You never did hold back to try and seem more proper.”

“I held back plenty,” you say, and put down your chopsticks. “But also, you barely ate in days. This stew would have to be pretty bad for you not to enjoy it.” You put the bowl to your lips and tip it back, savouring the spiced sauce.

“Still, it is pretty good,” Jin nods, munching happily.

“I’m glad I got to taste your cooking after all. It’s close to how I imagined.”

You smile softly. “Good,” you say.

----

The salted air stings your face as you survey the world from the guard tower. You can see halfway across the island from here. Your eyes follow the coastline north to the snowy covered flanks of the mountains, and south all the way to the swamps, with Kaneda Castle rising above them.

Below your feet, waterfalls pour down into the sea, an endless gurgling that was always so familiar to you, but now feels distant and annoying.

“There you are.” Tetsuo, who used to be one of your father’s men, comes climbing up the ladder. He’s a friendly sort. Broad shouldered and scruffy. “I was sent to find you. The cart is ready.”

“Alright.”

The man watches you for a moment, while you take in the views one last time. He fidgets when your eyes come to rest on the main tower of the castle, its highest floors home to the lord and his nephew. “Do you, uh, need a moment?” he says carefully.

The tower feels oddly imposing in the light of early morning, its height looming over the grounds and the people below, a stone monument against a lead sky.

There’s no fires there at this time. There’s barely any movement. Just still halls and the shuffling of servant feet as they try to remain invisible and unheard, mice in their own home.

You shake your head and turn to Tetsuo. “I’m fine,” you say. “Let’s go.”

---

The muffled tones of a flute come floating out of your house when you return from the forest with a belt of wood and some mushrooms you found.

The melody is soft and a little nostalgic, a sound both melodious and weary at the same time.

Jin concentrates on his breathing, a steady, stable pace to produce the right notes, but then you drift into the house like a fluttering bird, carrying the winter wind on its wings. He can smell the promise of snow on the air as you flit by in a whirl of fabric and drop a few logs next to the fire.

“Oof,” you say, and you rub your hands in the soft glow of the hearth.

Jin puts down his flute. “Are you cold?”

“It’s freezing out,” you reply, shrugging off your coat and shawl.

“I made tea,” he says. “Why don’t you sit for a minute.” He leans forward and pours two cups from a small pot. The wound in his side stabs in protest, but it no longer makes him flinch.

You hang up your coat and kneel beside him, taking the cup in both hands and breathing in the fragrant steam.

Your eyes flutter closed and Jin watches as your face, flushed from the cold, relaxes into a smile. He carefully takes the blanket that’s draped over his shoulders and extends it to cover yours.

Then he leaves his hand there, a gentle weight at your back. He can feel you tense for a moment, before you relax again and take a sip.

“I made room for Kage in the shed,” you say. “Put some animal skins on him too. He should be alright for tonight.”

“Thank you,” Jin whispers.

“You’ll be leaving soon, won’t you.” You hold the cup to your chest, staring at the fire.

“My wound is better,” he says. “And I still need to liberate this island.”

“And then?” The words hang in the air like a puff of smoke, drifting ever upwards but refusing to dissipate.

Jin quietly sips his tea, the warmth of it welcoming but edged with a hint of bitterness from the burnt leaves. “I don’t know,” he says.

He moves his hand further to your side and finds that you lean into his warmth. “I care for you,” he finally says. “Always have. But you already knew that.”

You nod mutely.

“I don’t know what could have happened, or what would…”

“We are very different people now,” you say, and your voice sounds oddly far, a faint whisper beneath the crackling of fire.

“True,” Jin says. “But we’re here now.”

You look up at him and your wide eyes hold a sky’s worth of stars. That same spark he saw so long ago, buried but ever burning beneath it all. He gently kisses your forehead.

And when you don’t pull back, he kisses your temple, and the top of your cheek, right beneath your eye. “Do you want this?” he asks.

You hesitate for a moment, eyes searching the lines in his face, the scars on his brow. Then you put down the cup and let your fingers smooth back his hair, trace the line of his jaw. “I do,” you say, and you lean in to touch his lips to yours.

Flames lick at the logs in the hearth, a slow, burning heat that consumes everything in its path. It spreads an orange glow that lights up the inside of the hut, growing shadows from teacups and lining the two bodies moving there in a copper gleam.

The fire simmers slowly, steadily throughout a cold winter’s night. It sparks and sizzles, breathing warmth and life into the darkness.

And it burns, and burns, through that night, until all that’s left in the cold light of morning is a faint glow drawn from spent wood, and soft breaths under layers of blankets.

#jin sakai x reader #ghost of tsushima #fanfic #fluff #technically smut?#comfort fic

222 notes · View notes

thebrownssociety · 3 years

Text

Across The Serververse, Chapter 11

Porky was pacing up and down, arms folded a cloud of worry above his head. A few foot away from him Foghorn and Barnyawd were trying to sound ‘encouraging’.

“Don’t, I say, don’t you worry Porky, mah boy!” Foghorn said, cheerfully. “They’ll be comin’ back any minute now!”

Porky screwed his eyes up and looked up to the sky again. “Y-you’ve b-b-been s-s-saying that for the last - for the last - the las - ages.”

The next scene opened up on Daffy and Porky leaving the hospital.

“You know where we’re going wrong, Porkster?” Daffy asked, musingly.

“T-t-the entire scheme?” Porky said, teasingly.

Ignoring him Daffy carried on. “We’re starting to small. We need to set up something grand, something...awsome...” With that declaration he rubbed his hands together and strode off.

Porky watched him go then looked up to the heavens and said. “S-s-somehow I don’t like the s-s-sound of that. Daffy! Wait up!” And he went running after him.

“Porky!” Petunia trilled as she hurried over to Porky and kissed him softly on the cheek. “Any sign?” She asked, sympathetically.

To which her husband made a sort of ‘hah!’ noise and indicated the empty sky.

Petunia then went about trying to convince Porky to put his guard down and come back to the house, even going so far as to assure him that both Foghorn and Barnyawd would be on watch for them [despite not actually asking them if they would be.]

With one last look at the sky, the older pig sighed. “I-I-i suppose you’re r-ri- correct.” He linked arms with his wife, then looked back anxiously at Barnyward and Foghorn. “Y-y-you’ll tell us if they come b-b-back?”

“Nah, we’ll leave it a few months. Let ya worry a lil’ more” Barnyawd said, sarcastically. “Of coirse we will! Now go!”

Porky and Petunia started to walk off, arm in arm, talking quietly to each other when suddenly Foghorn yelled.

“Incoming, I say, incoming! Watch out! Marvin’s crash-landing again!”

Porky and Petunia immediately turned back and looked up. Contrary to Foggie’s dramatic statement, Marvin wasn’t crashing his spaceship but managing to land the ship gracefully a few feet away.

The doors opened, a lot of smoke curled out of ship and Porky could see the silhouette of his family beyond it. He thought his chest was going to explode as a rush of happiness overtook him and he ran into the ship, trying to say. “Oh my-! I can’t believe you’re all back! Amazing!” and instead just managing to do his normal stuttering act.

Much hugging and exclamations later and Porky looked around the ship once more and asked, in concern. “W-wh-where’s everyone else?”

Porky, Petunia, Foghorn and Barnyawd were duly brought up to speed about everyone else’s locations and, at the end of the explanation, Bugs asked. “Eh...where’s Daf, Porkster?”

Porky sighed and looked at Petunia who made a ‘go on, it’ll be fine’ gesture.

After much stuttering and a few false starts the older toon managed to explain that Daffy was lying down having been given a sleeping tablet by Doctor Scratchensniff. “We-we’ve had s-so-something of an adventure.” Porky added, almost apologetically. “I-i know!” He brightened up. “I’ll explain via fl-flas-oh, just watch.”

And with that the his siblings - and Petunia - pulled up chairs and started to watch the flashbacks.

*5 and a half months ago*

The flashback opened up on an image of Porky and Daffy screaming as they fell through the air towards a map with the words ‘D.C. World’ written on it.

The two toons smashed into the ground in a puff of dust and earth. There was a worrying gap then Daffy leapt out of the crater the two of them had just created with a ‘Hi-yah!’ and a kung-fu pose. “Alright Rhythm!” He yelled, eyes pinpricks and brow furrowed. “I’m giving you one chance to give yourselth up or I’ll be forced to go Duck Dodgers on ya! And I did two years of training for that role!”

There was a silence then, when it became clear Rhythm was nowhere to be found, Daffy dropped the pose and looked around for any of his siblings. He found Porky at the bottom of said crater and pulled him out by his tail while bemoaning that Porky’s life had been ‘Tragically cut short! He wasth young! Stho young!” * Beat* “Okay, so technically he was in his late 80′sth. But STHILL-!”

“D-daffy-”

The duck gasped and clasped a hand to his heart. “I can hear him! Oh, Porky...” His eyes welled with tears. “...You’ll always have a place in my heart-”

“D-d-daffy, I’m not dead.” Porky said, in annoyance from the ducks arms.

Daffy blinked and leaned forward. “You sure about that, Chum? You look peaky-”

“I-i-is it any wonder!?” Porky snapped, pushing Daffy away and standing up. Dusting himself down the pig rattled through the list of things they had to do, namely see if any of the others were there and find out where they were.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

*A short while after that*

The next scene opened on Porky and Daffy walking down the street. The duck was noticeably subdued and was speaking in quite a serious manner. “Stho just me and you then, huh pal?” He said, thoughtfully. “Not even Bugsth hasth made it here? Hhmm. I don’t like it. C’mon! We need to try and get back.” Daffy screwed his face up as he racked his brains. “Can you remember where D.C. Worlds portal is?”

“Eh...” Bugs cut in as the rabbits brain leapt ahead about five steps. “Can I just stop you there, Doc? Oi bet oi can guess what happened next. Ya got ta the portal an’ it wouldn’t work?”

Porky glared and folded his arms. “I-i-if you know so much about it why d-d-don’t YOU tell the story then, Einstein?”

Bugs held his hands up and allowed Porky to continue.

The pig cleared his throat and began. “Yes, y-you’re right. The P-p-por - the thing wouldn’t work. And that was when D-d-daffy got his ‘great’ idea...”

*Daffy’s great idea*

“We’ll be superheros!” Daffy said, grabbing Porky by the shoulders. “And by ‘we’ I mean I’LL be a superhero and YOU’LL be my trusty sidekick! You can be...” Daffy thought for a moment. “...Pig Boy!” He declared after a moments consideration.

“O-o-or I could just be E-e-eager Young Space Cadet?”

Daffy gave his friend a ‘look’. “Eh - copyright, Porkster?”

“W-w-we’re owned by the same company!”

“And? That doesn’t make any difference! Jus’ ask Mickey! ‘Mickey MELON’ my assth...now - with me!”

*One quick scene change later*

[Daffy is in a boutiques. He pulls aside the curtain to reveal he is dressed in his superhero outfit from the movie - which the author has forgotten what it looked like, so can’t give a description] “Behold! Duck Awesome” Leaning up close to the 4th wall, Daffy whispered. “It’s like Duck Dodgers, but not copywrited. Loophole abuse, you might sthay. Anyway - back to the plot...” Daffy cleared his throat and yelled. “An’ here isth my trusthy sidekick - the notorious P.I.G!”

Another set of curtains opened to reveal Porky dressed in a outfit similar to Robin. With a glance at the 4th wall he said, flatly. “I-it was the only way to get the re-ref-reference in.”

“Now my sidekick!” Daffy grinned and rubbed his hands together. “Lesth solve some crimes!” And he bounded off.

“I-i think you’re g-g-getting yourself confused with She-Sherlock Holmes.” Porky said snarkliy, before paying for the costumes and running after his troublesome younger brother.

What followed was a montage of Daffy trying [and failing] to perform heroic tasks. In order these were:

1. Rescuing a kitten from a tree. [The kitten waited till it had been removed from the tree before attacking Daffy in a flurry of fur and nails. Porky then removed the kitten from where it was hanging off of Daffy’s beak and handed it to the grateful owner.]

2. Helping a little old lady cross the road. [Daffy picked her up and carried her while Porky stopped the traffic. She spent the short journey hitting the duck on the head with her handbag.]

3. Trying to stop a car crash. [Daffy stood between the two cars and put his arms out. He ended up squashed between the two of them making him a very interesting shape. Porky then transported Daffy and the two drivers to a nearby hospital.]

The next scene opened up on Daffy and Porky leaving the hospital.

“You know where we’re going wrong, Porkster?” Daffy asked, musingly.

“T-t-the entire scheme?” Porky said, teasingly.

Ignoring him Daffy carried on. “We’re starting to small. We need to set up something grand, something...awesome...” With that declaration he rubbed his hands together and strode off.

Porky watched him go then looked up to the heavens and said. “S-s-somehow I don’t like the s-s-sound of that. Daffy! Wait up!” And he went running after him.

#Space Jam 2 Fanfiction #Across The Serververse #Daffy Duck #Porky Pig #Bugs Bunny #Foghorn Leghorn #barnyawd dawg #petunia pig #Duck Aswesome #Can't remember the actual superhero name Daffy used #Marvin The Martian

8 notes · View notes

echoes-of-the-clockwork · 3 years

Text

Book One: Gold (Prompto x Reader) Chapter VIII

Prompto placed one of his hands on the back of her neck, holding her in place as he basked in the softness of her lips. When she didn't push him away, he deepened the kiss. However, he snapped out of his blissful revere a few seconds later and immediately pulled away. He stumbled backwards, realizing he'd push himself on to her. "I-I-I..." Prompto tripped over his own feet and landed on his butt. He sat up, running his hands frantically through his blonde locks. "Six, why did I do that?! I-I'm so sorry, (Y/n)!"

The girl stood up and approached him. She squatted down in front of him, smiling. "Calm down. There's no need to apologize, Prom." She took his hands out of his hair and held them gently with hers. "I do want to know... What did that kiss mean?"

"W-Well..." Prompto casted his gaze to the ground, unable to look her in the eye. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down so he could say those three important words. He grasped her hands, exhaling with a shaky sigh. "For a long time, I've...I've really liked you. More than a friend. You've been there for me through thick and thin. You never gave up on me and you're still by side even now. I mean, I have Noct and the others, but they aren't you. I know I haven't been the easiest person to live with all these years, but I-I'm glad you've decided to stick around. I haven't had the easiest life, but you made every moment worth while. You're irreplaceable to me. I...I love you, (Y/n)."

(Y/n) clung to every word, taking each one to heart. She remembered every memory she's made with Prompto, cherishing them all. She may have been bound to him because of her status as his guardian, but those memories were made because she cares deeply about him and was infatuated with him. Even if she wasn't his guardian, she would still dedicate herself to him because of how much she cares for him. He too was irreplaceable.

The girl smiled warmly at Prompto. "You've made my life worth while, as well. I cherish every second we've been together and wouldn't trade them for the world. For the longest time, I convinced myself that you were a human and someone who deserved better than me. But still, I found myself falling for you as the days passed. I'm so happy you feel the same way. I love you too, Prompto."

Tears of joy sprang from Prompto's eyes. He grabbed (Y/n)'s hands and tugged her towards him. She lost her balance and fell against him just as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders. He embraced her tightly, burying his face into the crook of her neck and thanking her for loving him over and over again. She placed her hands on his back, trailing her fingers up and down his spine.

(Y/n) pulled away just enough to move her hands from Prompto's back to his cheeks. Sitting on her knees between his legs, she cupped his cheeks in her palms and used her thumbs to wipe away his tears. Smiling, she leans forward and presses her forehead against his. Her golden eyes darted down to his lips for a split second before locking with his cerulean ones. She didn't hesitate to lean in closer and press her lips against his, kissing him sweetly.

It was a brief yet intoxicating kiss. (Y/n) pulled away a few seconds later after noticing the many questionable stares they were receiving from bystanders. She got to her feet, offering to help Prompto off the ground. When he placed his hands in hers, she pulled him to his feet with a smile. "As much as I would love to continue this, we have to meet up with the others. Ready to go?"

Prompto nodded, smiling. "Yeah."

The duo walked down the road a little ways away from the Cauthess Rest Area. (Y/n) transformed and Prompto climbed onto her back. He pulled out his phone and checked Ignis' directions, sharing them with the guardian. Knowing they had just ate, the fox gently trotted in the direction of Aracheole Stronghold. She refused to use the roads in order to prevent another ambush like yesterday. They ran into many packs of voretooths and sabertusks while traveling through nature, but they fled at the sight of the spirit.

Once arriving at Sothmocke Haven, Prompto sighed in relief when seeing the others were safe. He slid off (Y/n)'s back and ran towards his friends. The fox reverted back to her human form, joining the blonde.

"So, what'd we miss?" Prompto asked.

"Besides a talking daemon and other two runestones, nothing much," Noctis shrugged his shoulders. "What about you guys?" He glanced between his best friend and guardian.

"We kicked some imperial ass! Well, only some. There were way too many to handle by ourselves." Prompto slung an arm over the girl's shoulders and pulled her into his side. "(Y/n)'s the reason why we were able to escape without so much as a scratch."

"What took you both so long to get here, then?" Gladio inquired.

"We were hiding from the empire and Prompto's phone was water-logged from the storm," (Y/n) answered. "We didn't see the messages until a couple hours ago."

"We are simply relieved you both are unscathed," Ignis said.

"The same goes for the rest of you. We were worried there for a little bit." The (h/c)-haired girl, once Prompto released her, turned around to face the stronghold. "So, what's the plan?"

"We were just about to discuss such matters."

Noctis, who was sitting in one of the chairs beside Gladio, looks up at his advisor. "So, any bright ideas, Ignis?"

"A dark one, as it were," Ignis stated. "A frontal assault would leave us exposed. But, if we move under cover of night, we might be able to infiltrate the base unnoticed."

"And until then?"

"We learn all we can about the base's design and narrow down the Regalia's location. I'll analyze what intelligence we have available to find us a way in."

Noctis nodded. "Sounds good, Specs."

"All right! We're gonna get our wheels back!" Prompto cheered as he sat down in the chair beside Noctis. "Guess we gotta wait for night fall now." He pulled out his phone and booted up the King's Knight app. While waiting for it to load, his eyes drifted upward. They locked on to (Y/n)'s back and watched her every moment as she offered to help Ignis.

Noctis caught the blonde staring at the girl with a joyous smile etched across his face. "Did...something happen between you two?"

When Prompto realized he was talking to him, he did his best to look everywhere but at (Y/n). "Why would you think that?"

"Besides the fact you're staring at her, no idea."

The sharpshooter lowered his phone, knowing he couldn't hide the truth from his best friend. "I...may have told her how I feel."

Gladio, who'd been eavesdropping, spoke up. "Guessing by the look on your face, it went well."

Prompto sighed dreamily. "It went better than well. It went perfect."

"Who knew you had it in you, string bean."

The younger boy rolled his eyes with a groan at the ridiculous nickname. He looked back down at his phone and saw the game finished loading. He focused his eyes on the screen, but his mind was reminiscing in the kisses he shared with (Y/n) only a couple hours ago. His cheeks were dusted with a light tinge of pink as he played King's Knight until it was time for them to infiltrate the stronghold.

The group left Sothmocke Haven and made their way towards one of cargo entrances located on the side of Aracheole Stronghold. They snuck through rows of storage containers until arriving just outside the cargo entrance. Two soldiers were patrolling the road and inspecting the outgoing cargo. While hiding behind two storage containers, Ignis instructed Noctis when to kill the soldiers. Warp-striking each one, he killed the enemies without alerting the stronghold.

With the way clear, they walk through the cargo entrance. They quickly duck behind stacks of boxes and storage containers when spotting the search lights located on the ramparts. They ducked their heads lower as a MA-X Maniple marched directly towards them with its headlight pointed directly at the cargo they were concealing themselves with. Holding their breaths, they patiently waited for the mech to pass by their hiding spot. It turned to their right, strolling away.

"It's gone," Noctis sighed, relieved it didn't spot them.

"Magitek armor," Ignis whispered.

"Don't wanna mess with one of those," Gladio commented.

"We shouldn't have to if we keep to the shadows." Ignis led the group through the rows of cargo in the direction the mech walked in. Three more soldiers sauntered by, which didn't go unnoticed by the group. Noctis times their movements before warp-striking and killing them one by one.

Now the way was clear. They made their way over to a gate located beside a deactivated MA-X Maniple. Noctis deactivated the barrier keeping them from going any further. While the boys continued forward and ran into another group of soldiers, (Y/n) climbed up a stack of storage containers and stalked the enemies' movements from above. She watched Noctis closely as he managed to take down four of the six soldiers patrolling the area.

The girl snuck across the top of the metal storage containers until she reached the second gate. She glanced over the top and spotted the Regalia not too far away. Her attention was redirected back to the prince when he alerted the last soldier by killing the other one. Before the adversary could raise his gun and shoot Noctis, she manifested a dagger made of pure flames and leapt down on top of the soldier. She jammed the fiery blade into his back, killing him instantly. The dagger vaporized as she stepped away from the soldier's corpse.

Noctis glanced behind him before looking back at her. "Where did you...?"

"Nice save," Gladio complimented, the raven-haired boy's question going unanswered.

"Aw, yeah! That's my girl!" Prompto chanted.

"Well done, (Y/n)," Ignis said.

"The Regalia is just through this gate," she said before turning to the panel and deactivating the translucent barrier. They walk into the next area and immediately spot the car they'd been searching for. However, they were spotted by a MA-X Maniple. As the mech rose to its feet and set its sight on the group, soldiers and magiteks encroached on their position. All the search lights were aimed at them, revealing them in the darkness.

(Y/n) transformed and leapt onto the mech while the boys dealt with the soldiers and MTs. She latched on to one of the missile cannons attached to its shoulders. She growled menacingly as her fangs sunk deeper into the machine's metal exterior. Shaking her head, she managed to tear the missile cannon from the MA-X Maniple and toss it aside. She jumped off its body, using her weight to knock it down to a single knee.

Prompto and Ignis dealt heavy damage to the mech after seeing it had collapsed. Noctis and Gladio kept their attention on the soldiers and MTs trying to surround them. Vaulting a safe distance away from the battle, the fox spirit concentrated her energy into her tails and paws. They ignited with bright flames and she rejoined the fray. She charged through a horde of soldiers and MTs, using her blazing paws and tails to swipe and them left and right.

Noctis saw the others were handling the enemies and decided to take it upon himself to warp up to the watchtower. Using the turret located at the top, he targeted the energy tanks. Explosions shook the ground as the tanks blew up one by one, taking enemies with them. When all the tanks, the MA-X Maniple, soldiers, and magiteks were annihilated, Noctis returned to his friends. Discussing their next target, they headed towards the magitek generator located in the rear of the stronghold.

The sun was beginning to rise. (Y/n), still in her spiritual form, split off from the boys to deal with the overwhelming amount of enemies swarming from all directions. She dealt with them while the others headed straight for the generator. She fought against more soldiers, MTs, and MA Veles-Bises, keeping them at bay for a short time before destroying them. She went to rendezvous with the others when her attention was drawn to the magitek generator. It had been destroyed and weakened the entire garrison.

Running as fast as she could, (Y/n) searched for the boys just as Noctis summoned the mighty Fulgurian, Ramuh. She stopped in her tracks, her slitted eyes traveling up to the sky when seeing the Astral appear. She watched in silence and awe as the god used his power to annihilate the remaining enemies in Aracheole Stronghold. Before Ramuh vanished, she could've sworn he glanced at her.

When the god was gone, (Y/n)'s ears perked up when she sensed a strange presence in the distance. Her golden eyes scanned her surroundings when the presence was slowly moving toward the direction of the Regalia. Instead of pursing the person, she used her connection to the gemstone on Prompto's bracelet to find the boys' current location. What caused her fur to stand on end was both their presence and the stranger's were closing in on each other. She couldn't understand why she could sense the stranger's aura without needing a connection. Pushing the thought aside, she made her way back to the Regalia.

The moment the guardian caught a glimpse of the car in the distance, she saw Noctis, Prompto, Gladio, and Ignis were being approached by a man with a sword drawn she'd never seen before. With her sensitive hearing, she listened in on their conversation while keeping her distance.

"Long has it been, Noctis," Ravus, the man who she detected earlier, hissed.

"Ravus," Noctis growled.

"You receive the Storm's blessing. And yet, you know nothing of the consequences." Ravus raises his sword and points the sharp tip at Noctis's throat.

Gladio was enraged at the sight. "Watch it." He moves to get between them, causing Ravus to reposition the blade with its edge now along Gladio's throat.

Ignis starts to move toward Ravus, but the other man raises his left hand. "Be still. All of you," the man warned.

"Not good..." Prompto muttered.

"Heir to a crown befitting no other. Witness his splendor and glory. All hail the Chosen King."

Noctis, although being threatened by Ravus, stood his ground and snapped back. "Awful high and mighty for an imperial rat, serving the enemy to hunt down Luna!"

Ravus suddenly grabs Noctis' throat with his left hand. "I do not serve. I command!" He shoves the boy backward and Gladio gets between them. The high commander glared at the brute. "The king's sworn shield."

"You better believe it," Gladio snarled.

"A weak shield protects naught." Ravus slowly raises his sword above his head, then brings it down fiercely. Gladio briefly blocks it with his own sword before Ravus parries the weapon away and slams the pommel of his sword into the shield's chest, sending him flying into the side of the Regalia. Prompto runs to check on Gladio while Noctis gets between them and Ravus.

"Wanna go? Let's do it," Noctis remarked in a low, threatening tone. He summons the royal arms and they begin spinning around him.

"Should the Chosen fail, that too is fate." Ravus raises his sword again and went to strike the prince. Before he could bring it down, his blade was deflected by another. He stumbled backwards and casted his glare towards the person who parried his attack, ready to swing his sword a second time.

(Y/n)'s slitted eyes narrowed at Ravus' movements. Raising the cosmic blade gifted to her by Brahma, she ducked under his sword and slammed the pommel into his gut. The high commander collapsed to a single knee. The oxygen was knocked from his lungs and his grip on his sword slipped, resulting in him to drop it. It clattered against the ground. She kicked it out of his reach, pointing the tip of her sword at his throat. She stared down into his heterochromia eyes with a stoic expression. "How does it feel to taste your own medicine?"

Ravus went to snap back, but his eyes fell on the blade she wielded. His eyes narrowed, gritting his teeth. "The Creator's Blade..." He then took note of the gemstone embedded in her upper right arm and her slitted eyes. "You are-!"

"I'd say that's far enough," a voice spoke up. Everyone turned their attention to the owner of the voice and saw Ardyn sauntering towards them. Beside him was Callyx. The auburn-haired man smiled at Noctis. "A hand, Highness?"

"Not from you," Noctis scoffed.

"Oh, but I'm here to help," he innocently replied.

Ignis was suspicious of the chancellor's and Callyx's sudden appearance. "And how is that?"

"By taking the army away."

Gladio glowered at him. "You expect us to believe that?"

"When next we meet, it'll be across the sea. Just so happens we have business of our own with the tutelary deity. Don't we?" Ardyn then took a few steps toward (Y/n), who was still pointing her blade at Ravus' throat. He took off his hat and bowed. "Please do forgive my acquaintance, my dear. He has quite the temper."

The guardian stepped away from Ravus, withdrawing her blade. She noticed Ardyn and Callyx were staring at the cosmic weapon. The chancellor's face remained stoic while the emerald-eyed spirit gaped in shock. He went to step forward, but Ardyn stopped him.

"Ardyn, but she's..." Callyx began.

"We are leaving," the chancellor interrupted the guardian. He then helped Ravus up and said his goodbyes. "Fare thee well, Your Majesty, and safe travels." Ravus, Callyx, and Ardyn walk away.

"You guys know that guy?" Prompto asked.

"Ravus Nox Fleuret, first son of Tenebrae...and elder brother to Lady Lunafreya," Ignis explained.

(Y/n) dispelled the sword with a heavy sigh. "What a weird trio..."

"I'll say," Noctis said.

"They were really into your sword, (Y/n)," Prompto commented. "Where did you get it?"

"That's...a story for another day," she forced a smile.

Gladio rubbed the spot where Ravus hit him with his sword. "I don't care where the damn thing came from. Nice moves back there, by the way."

"Consider it payback for what he did to you and Noctis." She combed a hand through her (h/c) locks. "Now then, let's get out of here."

"Yes, please!" Prompto chanted.

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter || Masterlist

#ffxv #ffxv x reader #final fantasy xv #final fantasy xv x reader #prompto argentum #prompto x reader #prompto argentum x reader

21 notes · View notes

drakewalkerfantasy · 3 years

Text

Sneak-peak: Consequences: Chapter 1 (Rewrite as my own work)

Synopsis: Two people from two different worlds. He 27 years old former Marine, who doesn’t believe in happy endings, at least not for him. She 23 years old college graduate with the older brother who watch her like a hawk always thinking that no guy is good enough for his little sister. Two complete strangers who come together for a night of solace from their moment of anger and hurt. By consequence, they were brought together and their fates intertwined.

What will happen when the reality of the one night’s actions filled with lust and anger will hit them both? What will happen when he will find out that the girl he spend the night with is not only his roommate but also his best friend’s little sister? The one he swore to himself never to touch, the one for whom he will never be good enough.

Please let me know if anyone is interested. This is rewrite of series I never finished and that started as fanfic, but I really want to make it as my own series.

The cover is temporary for now. (I think)

@choices-bound hon let me know if interested :)

Jordan Williams never was the one who scared easily, or backed out of his decision in that matter.

Former Marine, even though his parents didn’t support him... the one of the few survivals of his platoon… The hero, who singlehandedly carried his friends out from the burning hell on Earth not knowing if they were dead or alive. Who by some miracle wasn’t hurt as badly but was left with the nightmares to remind him of how lucky or cursed he was, and with the ugly scars to never let him forget of the ones who weren’t as fortunate to live.

And today even though he still wasn’t scared, he was nervous. This was the last Friday before he will start his new life. No more deployments. No more deaths, at least not on his watch. And as many lives as he could save after he would learn how.

And he was determined to learn how… to be the best in what he would be doing hopefully for the rest of his life, trying to block the nerves raking through him. The only thing that overshadowed his new beginning was the fact that the place that he found for the living, was already occupied, which meant that he would have a roommate, something that he was determined never to have. The main reason why no matter how hard his best friend tried to convince him to rent a house together, he did not succumb to his persuasion. Preferring solitude instead to the company. Not wanting anyone to see him at his lowest or to hear his screams during the nights, while he would wake up sweating from the same nightmare night after night. And as a result of that he got himself in a situation in which he was now, fated to share the house with the person he even never met.

He huffed, driving toward the lonely standing house, someone’s car already parked there. He looked around, leaving his car on a free space. Getting out of his SUV, Jordan went toward the house. When he got inside, he noticed still packed boxes in the hall, but he didn’t hear or see anyone else. He walked further into the house, entering a living room he will be forced to share with someone else. He looked around the neat and cozy room, two armchairs were standing opposite fireplace, the massive bookcase was located along one of the walls. He was about to go and check the kitchen when he heard his phone calling. Taking it out, he checked the Caller’s ID before answering the call, listening for a familiar voice, coming from his mobile.

“Morning to you too, Brandon,” replied Jordan, putting his keys into the bowl.

“Hey, Jody. Did you finally got to your new place? Settled in okay? How is your new roommate? Still not regretting not moving in with me?” questioned Brandon in his carefree manner, as if he wasn’t on the verge of the death no longer then six month back after he would save Jordon’s life and in return he would saved his. His cheerful voice caused a surge of amazement through Jordon while he listened to his friend waiting for his turn to speak.

“You know I hate it when you call me that,” Jordan growled frowning after finally the questions stopped in that annoyingly abrupt manner he hated. “And yes, I already got to my new place but had no chance to settle in just yet. Answering your last question, I have no idea who my new roommate is as I can see only unopened boxes there. But I do hope that the person I share this place with is someone who will not interrupt my study or throw constant parties. Although based on the fact that instead of unpacking, this roommate just left… I guess I can say goodbye to that…”

“Yes, yes… About your study, you need to unwind for the last time before your study starts… sometimes I really think you forget how to do that spending all your free time buried in books,” started Brandon, making Jordan flinch at his choice of words. He could be buried… they both could be as were most of the guys from their platoon.

Pale, bloodied faces appeared in front of his eyes. His hand suddenly covers in blood right in front of his eyes… screams deafeningly loud dying on their lips twisted in agony, leaving only few of them alive, and if no one would come soon they would join their comrades, their friends… sooner then they could finish the prayer… not that anyone from them believed, not after what they have seen or lost.

“What do you mean?” forced out Jordan, closing his eyes and letting out the slow breath.

“I mean that I was invited to the party, and you are coming with me. I need a wingman, so you are coming,” exclaimed Brandon, making Jordan frown moving his phone a bit further from his ear.

“Never,“ cut Jordan, shaking his head. He was done with partying or woman. "you know I don’t do parties… not anymore.”

“Yes, but you also know I will not give up until you say yes. So let’s make it easy for both of us.” laughed Brandon.

“I need to unpack my stuff, and it may take the whole day. Also, I need to go to the library to pick up some books for my studies as tomorrow the library will be closed. So this time you will need somehow to manage this on your own.”

“If these are the only reasons then…. partyyyyy.”

“I told you, I will not have…,” tried to say, Jordan.

“I will be there in twenty minutes and will help you unpack, and then we will pick up your books before crashing this party.”

“You will not give up… right?”

“Man, you should know by now that never.”

“Fine…” sighed Jordan exasperatedly looking at his watch. “be here in twenty minutes, but I will leave a party before 10 pm. Understood?”

“See you in twenty minutes,” replied Brandon, ending the call.

Almost an hour later Jordan finally heard a knock on the door. Grudgingly he opened it letting his best friend inside the house.

“You are late,” stated he holding one of the boxes in his hands.

“Sorry, I met my new neighbors and they needed help with some boxes,” shrugged Brandon nonchalantly passing by Jordan feeling not even the slightest remorse in his delay.

Another hour later and unloading the last boxes that Jordan brought with him, they finally started to unpack them. And in another three hours, they were finally done. All the stuff that Jordan took with him were put neatly to their places. The bookshelf in the living room stocked with new books he brought, and a picture of him and his older sister put above fireplace. They both looked in satisfaction around the room putting the last boxes into the storage place. Brandon patted Jordan on the back before going toward the door.

“So now, when we finally finished with unpacking,” started his friend, his eyes widening, when he noticed how Jordan displeasingly looked on his new roommate’s still packed boxes. Quickly his friend marched back to him grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the door, letting him only grab his keys on the way out. “Don’t you even dare to think about that. You are NOT touching your roomies’ stuff. Now…. let’s go to this place, where you need to be quiet and bore yourself to death or we will be late to the partyyyyyyyy.”

That word again… thought Jordan. The word that makes him flinch every time, and his teeth grinding together.

“Can you stop calling it that. And the library can be fun when you know what you are looking for,” noted he, hoping his friend missed his reaction before they both exited the house, shutting the door behind.

This was already three o’clock when they rushed toward the library, trying to get on time before it will be closed. After another ten minutes of arguing that Brandon should wait for him in the car instead of constantly complaining about the place or flirt with every single girl they would meet Jordan ran up the stairs taking two steps at the time before disappearing behind the heavy doors. When he was about to round the corner, he felt someone bumping straight into him. The heavy books the person was carrying fell to the ground hitting painfully his foot. Making him swear under his breath, looking at the person in front of him with the frown.

#own work #Jordan williams #rachel ferguson #rae ferguson

4 notes · View notes

peterxwade24 · 4 years

Text

BWYD Chapter 38

Parent Swap

The three almost siblings sat at a table, Marinette facing the window while Matthieu sat closest to the door. Three chocolate cupcakes sat on the table, not a dollop of frosting in sight.

“How have you been?” Jocelyne asked, her eyes flicking over Marinette as though she could take in every change the girl had made since leaving her home. “Have they been good to you?”

“Your boys are nice to you, aren’t they?” Matthieu implored, looking over her as he had become accustomed.

“When Batman and Red Hood finally moved me from Paris, they put me with Ubaba. Ubaba gave me several siblings, brothers and sisters, who care for me like you two did.” Marinette picked at her cupcake, surprised when the chocolate cake gave way to a blood orange compote in the center. “My oldest brother, Dick, and one of my middle brothers, Duke, are here with Damian, Colin and I. My second oldest brother, Jason, is just in town for a little while to make sure I don’t have another catatonic episode before he’s going back home. My three sisters, who are all so much like you, like doing my hair. My other middle brother, Tim, helps Ubaba run the family company that Ubaba’s parents founded.”

Jocelyne nodded, a smile on her face. “I like your necklace.”

Marinette touched her necklace. “It was Maman’s. A lady who was like a grandmother to me found it for me, after our home burned down I never thought I’d have anything from them ever again.”

Jocelyne nodded and placed her hand over Marinette’s hand resting on the table. Matthieu smiled sadly.

Lou, ever the diligent partner, went about running the shoppe for Jocelyne while she was busy talking with her almost siblings.

---

Dick rushed into the cupcake shoppe, his eyes scanning the interior before they landed on the form of his sister. “Tiny Bat!” He vaulted over the tables and chairs, Duke running through the closing door behind him.

“Oiseau bleu! What’re you doing here?” Marinette frowned, pulling protective instincts from her two almost siblings.

Jocelyne forced herself between the two Wayne siblings while Matthieu pulled Marinette behind him. “Excuse you. Who do you think you are?”

Duke bounded across the shoppe to stand beside Dick. “We’re her brothers. Who’re you?”

“Oiseau blue. Oiseau jaune.” Marinette sighed and placed her hand on Jocelyne’s shoulder. “They’re Ubaba’s sons, two of my older brothers.” She paused and frowned. “How did you find me?”

“So, Tim may or may not have put a tracker on everyone’s phones so we all know where everyone else is, and when Damian and Colin came home but you still hadn’t, we waited a little while longer. But as the time between the boys coming home and you not coming home almost reached an hour, we decided to track your location?”

“Tim-Tam and I will be having a discussion.” Marinette sighed and pressed a kiss to Matthieu’s cheek. “You two, on the other hand, need to learn to call first.”

“We were worried. Especially after what happened last time.”

“That doesn’t count.”

---

Marinette frowned at her brother on the computer screen. “Tim-Tam. Why did you bug my phone?”

“I bugged everyone’s, not just your’s.” Tim sat back in his desk chair and ran a hand through his hair. “We need to be able to find everyone at all times, especially since Diana vacated the city a few years before you guys popped up and you’re only letting the family in.”

“Tim-Tam. If I didn’t know any better, I’d assume you guys didn’t trust me. Oh wait, the only one who initially believed I was capable of being a vigilante like the rest of the family was Damian.” Marinette frowned and shook her head. “I’ve gotta go. Oiseaux bleu and jaune are making me participate in a family day tomorrow.”

“Bug-” Tim started to say before Marinette ended the call and closed her laptop.

She sighed and pulled her hair out of the ponytail she’d pulled it up into. She looked around her room, Oberon and Houdini curled up in a stray ray of sunshine, before her eyes landed on Tikki. “Hey, Tikki?”

Tikki turned to look at her holder. “Oh Marinette.” Tikki put down the cookie she was eating and zipped over to Mari. “You have the support of your team, the support of Damian, and all of the kwamis support you. Queen Hipplyta and the Amazons support you, I’m pretty sure if we asked Arthur King of Atlantis would support you.”

Marinette nodded and cupped Tikki in her hands. “Thanks Tikki.” Marinette pressed a kiss to Tikki’s forehead. “Some days I swear you’re more of a parent to me than Ubaba. Granted Grampa Alfie has been more of a parent to most of my older siblings.”

“Oh Marinette.” Tikki wrapped her arms around Marinette’s finger and frowned. “You’re not the first Ladybug to see me as a parent. You are the first one who’s seen me as a parent without also seeing Plagg as a parent.”

Marinette shrugged. “I guess I need to convince Adrien to swap kwamis with me for a little while then.”

---

Marinette walked into school the following Monday wearing an olive green shirt (which was nearly two sizes too big), over a black skirt and black tights, she wore one black boot with red laces and a red boot with black laces. Her hair was pulled back in twin bubble braids and tied with little black canary ribbons. She quickly spotted Adrien and skipped over to her blond friend. “Hey ‘drien.”

Adrien jumped as she linked her arm with his. “Oh. Hey Mari.”

“So, I have a question. Do you see your pocket-sized god as a parent? Because if the answer is yes then we should switch pocket-sized gods so that we both see them both as parents.”

“I mean, yes, but why?”

“Because our dads suck and we deserve cool parents.” Marinette smiled. “Come on. Please.”

Adrien sighed before pulling Marinette into a quiet alcove. “You swear you’ll give him back after you see him as a parent?”

“I swear on my parents’ graves.” Marinette took out her earrings, allowing them to revert to their charged state of red with black polka dots, and watched as Adrien pulled off his read which reverted to its charged state of black with a green paw print. She handed over her earrings, which turned into a red and black spotted ear cuff, as he handed over his ring which became slender in her hand.

Adrien put the ear cuff around his ear, where it lost its red and black appearance and took on the appearance of a silver vine shaped ear cuff. “Take good care of him.”

Marinette slipped the ring onto her right-hand middle finger, where it lost its black and green appearance and took on the appearance of a Wonder Woman double-ring spanning her middle and ring finger. “You take good care of her. I can deliver some cookies if you need me too.”

“That’d be great.” Adrien smiled and slung an arm around her shoulders. “And we can refer to it as a parents swap!”

“Please be careful with Mom. She can be temperamental if you’re mistreated.” Marinette smiled and led him to the classroom.

“Dad just sleeps all day. But he likes cheese, the runnier the better.” Adrien separated from Marinette at his desk and watched as she shot him a thumbs-up as she climbed the stairs to sit between her brothers.

Taglist: @dast218 @amayakans @toodaloo-kangaroo @crazylittlemunchkin @marinettepotterandplagg @duckies16

#maribat #ml crossover #mlb crossover #ml x dc #mlb x dc #bwyd #bruce wayne's youngest daughter

21 notes · View notes

generallybarzy · 4 years

Text

smile like sunshine ii

Sunday: ~6.4k words,

summary: The first day at the beach was always overwhelming: the first sight of the ocean after driving, the first taste of salt in the air, the breeze in your hair, the first feeling of warm sand beneath your toes. And with Mat here? Oh boy, there are all new sensations you’re feeling. But, work always has to come before play, right?

an: Alright this is the first real chapter at the beach! Literally everything in here- every store, activity they do etc- is based on the beach trip my family and I take every year, but I won’t go into detail about location so you can imagine it’s anywhere you’d like :) The chapters after this might take a little longer, because I already had half of this written when I uploaded part 1. But I hope it’ll be worth the wait!

It’s the summer of ‘19, eleven years after you first met Mat, and things are bound to be a little different this time around.

The first night in a real bed after a long road trip always felt great- finally being able to just stretch and sleep for as long as you wanted after hours and hours of travel, getting well rested and ready to hit the beach and jump in the waves. You still had a few hours in the morning before you were able to check in to your rental home on the oceanfront, so- like every year- you were sleeping in to get as well-rested as possible.

Mat, on the other hand, wasn’t accustomed to your family traditions of vacation and was used to waking up early, so he came to his senses long before you. The first thing he noticed that morning, before even opening his eyes, was how cold the room was. When you dragged him in here last night, even though it was dark it had still been sweltering outside in the beachy summer air, so you must have cranked the AC on high before crawling under the covers with him. But, strangely enough, despite the room being chilly he was still warm under the thin motel bedsheets. This led him to his second, and most striking observation.

As he slowly phased into consciousness, he noticed the cozy mess of bare limbs tangled with his under the sheets, and the consistent hot sighs of air against his throat. He could feel an arm wrapped tight around his bare waist- his shirt must have gotten pushed up overnight- and a small, gentle hand resting on his chest. His own arms were around your frame, one hand resting ever so scandalously on your thigh. Your bare legs tangled with his, and couldn’t help but notice how warm and soft you felt against him. And, God, you smelled so pretty- was that weird? He peeled open his eyes to find you looking peaceful and comfortable, pulled flush against his body, tucked into his side with your face smooshed between his neck and shoulder. Fuck, this was 100% inappropriate, he knew. You’re his friend, and this just isn’t how friends behave.

But he still couldn’t bring himself to pull away from you. Not yet.

You weren’t awake yet, and he didn’t have the heart to wake you up when you looked so comfortable, so he lay for another hour or so, just looking at you and thinking. Was this creepy? This is definitely creepy, but he didn’t care. Here he was, eleven years later, with the first girl outside his family he ever cared for. The girl he knew for one month, missed for ten years, the girl who found him and shocked him and stole his heart eight months ago and had continued to surprise him every day since then. You had him so, so wrapped around your finger and you didn’t even realize it yet. Ah, but friendship. Friendship meant he shouldn’t kiss you, shouldn’t tell you and the world how much you meant to him, shouldn’t have his hand this far up your thigh, shouldn’t be tangled into your body like this. Shouldn’t love you. Mat didn’t realize how red his face was getting or how quickly his heart started beating until his eyes fell back to watching you, snoozing comfortably on his chest. Hell, you could probably feel his heartbeat.

He untangled himself from you and rolled to the other side of the bed, taking a breath to try and steady his heart and cool the fire inside him. Wow, the effect you had on him was crazy. This week was going to be crazy.

A knock at the door had him jerking up in bed, afraid of your family finding him anywhere close to you, staring at you with such adoration. “Up and at ‘em, kiddos!” He rolled out of bed at the sound of your father’s voice. “We got a beach to hit!”

He opened the door without even getting the chance to wash his face or fix his hair, still wearing the same wrinkled tee shirt, shorts and socks that he’s had on for 24 hours now, and greeted your dad, pushing out as much of a smile as he could.

“Good morning, sir.”

“Mathew. Great, I needed to talk to you.” He froze where he was in the doorway, and looked back to where you were still asleep in bed, hoping that maybe you’ve woken up by now and would come over to save him from whatever was about to happen.

“Talk?”

“Yeah. C’mon, I’m not that scary.” Oh, you’re not that scary? Yeah right. But Mat complied, closing the door to your room and standing out front with your father, wanting to stay on his good side for at least this week. The sun was already bright, it was already getting hot and humid out, and though he couldn’t see the ocean yet, he could definitely smell the seawater in the air. He couldn’t wait to get out in the water with you. “(Y/N) brought you along on this trip with us, so you must be somebody she cares about. What’s your relationship to my daughter?”

“We’re just friends.” He spoke almost too quickly, wanting to convince your dad, and maybe even himself, that there was nothing going on between the two of you. “We actually met here on vacation eleven years ago-”

“Ah, ah, I remember, kid.” He waved his hands to stop Mat in his story. “But it’s hard for me to believe there’s nothing more going on between the two of you. You might have been in the back seat, but I saw the way you stared at her while she was asleep on the way here.” Mat’s heart stopped. Oh God, oh God, oh God your dad saw him staring at you. You had fallen asleep long before he did, so for almost an hour he had watched you sleep soundly with your head on his shoulder. He didn’t think anyone could see, but he was also so immersed with your beauty that he must have missed your dad’s gaze in the rear-view mirror. “I don’t know about you, but that’s not how I look at my friends.”

“Um…” He was at a loss for words, reaching up to run his hand through his hair. He wasn’t sure if he should try to find an explanation or just tell the truth, but your dad’s intense gaze wore through him. There was no way he could spin this to make it seem believably platonic. “Shit… “ He mumbled under his breath, looking down at his socks and knowing he couldn’t lie to this guy. “Okay, I might like her a little more than platonically, maybe. But I wasn’t planning to say anything to her yet.”

“Don’t.”

“Wha-?”

“I don’t know enough about you yet, but if my daughter likes you enough to bring you along- and I know she doesn’t trust people easily- I’m sure I should trust you too. You seem like an okay guy. So far.” Mat felt a smile light up his face, it wasn’t much of a compliment, but it still meant a lot to him.

“Oh, wow, thanks.”

“But know that I’ve still gotta be a dad here. And if you say anything to her that disrupts her happiness, it’ll make things awkward and ruin the whole trip. So, nothing sneaky is gonna happen under my roof, especially not this week. Nothing. I’ll be watching you, Mathew. Making sure you don’t try anything. Making sure you don’t hurt her.”

Mat was quick to shake his head. “Of course not.”

“I don’t care how much of an All Star you are, if you do anything, and I mean anything, to hurt her…!” Mat hadn’t realized how far he’d been leaning back against the door until it opened behind him and had him stumbling to get his footing.

“Dad, why are you interrogating my friend?” He looked back to you, standing there in your own wrinkled tee shirt and those soft pajama shorts, the ones his hand had been ever so slightly underneath earlier, your hair a tangled mess but still beautiful. Your soft hands found his arm, ready to pull him inside and away from the questioning. A little too late to save me, (Y/N), he thought, amused.

“Well, you can’t just bring a random boy along without me questioning him. He could be a murderer.”

“Yep, he’s definitely a murderer.”

“We’ll see.” Mat felt a hand clap his back and forced out a smile. Your dad didn’t like him? To be honest, he wasn’t too familiar with people completely disliking him off the bat. Oh well, he was just being a generic protective dad, and no one could blame him for wanting to look out for you. Mat knew he had nothing to worry about- he definitely wasn’t going to hurt you this week, or ever, so your dad’s threat- his promise- meant nothing to him. “All right kids, get ready. We’re heading to the house soon. And wear your swimsuits so we don’t have to change when we get there.”

You pulled Mat back inside by the arm, closing the door behind you and not missing the final look he sent to Mat. “Sorry about that.”

“No big deal, just… obligatory dad talk I guess. Threatening any guy that gets close to his daughter and stuff.”

“Well, if it makes it any better, I meant to get up earlier to keep you safe from him.”

“I appreciate the effort, but you were a bit too late.” He smiled down at you and you became increasingly aware of how close you were standing. But you couldn’t look away, his hair looked so soft, having probably just woken up a few minutes before you, and his lips had the slightest pout to them that you didn’t realize earlier. His eyes- oh, his eyes- were a soft, beautiful golden brown color you loved so much.

“I swear, your eyes used to be a lot more green.”

Mat’s eyebrows quirked up with a smile, intrigued. “You remember my eye color after eleven years?”

It was meant to be teasing, you knew that, but it was true, and it felt like such an intimate thing. You had just been gazing into his eyes for much, much longer than was appropriate for friends! Maybe it was dumb, considering he was a friend, but you still thought back to his “dazzling green eyes” and the way they sparkled so much in the sunlight, and you hadn’t really seen them that green for any of the last eight months of your friendship.

“Um...” You took your hand off of his arm, shaking away your thoughts and pointing to the bathroom, clothes in your hand. “I’m gonna go change.”

The next few minutes were full of small, sneaky glimpses back and forth. Mat had never been this interested in getting ready in the morning, but watching you brush your hair and brush your teeth was just so immersing to him. You kept catching yourself glancing over to Mat, and couldn’t bring yourself to look away. He was so pretty in the morning, his eyes were so sleepy and his hair was so soft and fluffy, and it took everything in you not to reach up and run your hands through it. You’d never seen him this early in the morning, and if you were being honest, you were sad you didn’t get to wake up before him and just lay and watch that sleepy face that you loved so much. You couldn’t help but watch out of the corner of your eye as Mat stripped out of his shirt before disappearing into the bathroom to change into some swim trunks. Wow. He certainly didn’t have those abs eleven year ago.

You watched Mat when he opened the bathroom door and ran his fingers through his hair repeatedly in the mirror. “C’mon, Mat! You don’t need to do your hair, It’s just gonna get messed up in the water anyway.” You heard him laugh, used to your teasing.

“Yeah, you’re right.” He pulled you into his side. “Let’s go, princess.”

Some say eleven is a lucky number- when you see 11:11 on a clock, you want to make a wish, even if you don’t believe in wishes, don’t you? So maybe it had something to do with magic, maybe the stars had finally aligned, or maybe you had just both ended up in the right place at the right time, but you never thought you would be here again with Mat, especially not after eleven years.

And there it was. The first sight of the ocean was always so refreshing. After a whole 24 hours of travel and waiting and being as patient as possible, the first glimpse of the ocean, the first taste of salt in the air, the first feeling of sand beneath your feet was your big reward. And being here with Mat… it was a whole new feeling, even more intense. Here you were, standing in the sand next to Mat with nothing but ocean in front of you and shoreline as far as you could see on your left and right.

You hadn’t seen Mat shirtless much during your friendship, maybe briefly, but now it was clear- he had certainly grown, shirtless and looking absolutely stunning with the sunlight shining off of his chest and abs, rubbing what looked like the bare minimum of sunscreen on his shoulders. Woah, woah, you really shouldn’t be staring- but really, he’s gonna get sunburnt, that’s all you were worried about! He caught your eye with his gleaming sunshine smile and nudged you, his hand clapping your bare back softly and falling to your waist to pull you into him and bump hips in a teasing way he would do often, only now it felt a lot different, considering you were both almost naked. But, if he cared, that twinkle in his eye didn’t give anything away. “Race you to the water.”

He beat you there, of course, running into the oncoming waves with no hesitation, but you had the satisfaction of watching him half trip and half get knocked over into the water with a yelp, and watching him come back up all wet with dripping hair and a bright smile, laughing at himself. You stood in your spot on the wet sand and watched, feeling as if time was going in slow motion with some cheesy 80s love song playing in the background as he threw back his head and lifted a hand to get his hair out of his face.

“Are you coming in or not?”

Honestly, you could have sat and watched him for hours- he looked so irresistible with drops of water rolling down his perfectly sculpted chest and abs and his hair dark and slicked back- but having the option to be closer to him was something you definitely weren’t going to pass on. Maybe it took you too long to respond, though, because before you could even nod and come in after him, he was scooping you up in his arms with ease, startling you and laughing at your reaction. And as much as you didn’t mind being this close to him, feeling the warmth of his body through the coolness of the water, you knew where this was headed. “Mat, let me down! Don’t you dare!” But he was a menace, and he lived to annoy you, so he rushed out with you in his arms and dropped you in the water- which felt especially cold on your skin after you had stood in the sunlight for so long. You sputtered and wiped the water out of your face, thankful he was generous enough to not drop you right where waves crashed down. “Mat!”

In the midst of bending over in laughter, he managed out a quick- “You took too long!”

You wanted to be mad at how much he was laughing at your annoyance, you really did, but how could you when he was all wet and shiny in the sunlight and those swim trunks were so low on his hips and wow those abs and that V going down-

You splashed some water back at him, laughing along with his contagious little giggles as you stood and tried to recompose yourself in front of him- adjusting your swimsuit and what not.

Mat couldn’t take his eyes off you as you stood in the water in front of him. You didn’t know how good you looked in that swimsuit, though he’d never tell you that. Friends shouldn’t just tell each other they look hot, right? No, that’s weird, of course not. Especially not on the first day of six more at the beach. He didn’t want to make it awkward. But you did look breathtaking. And the way you smiled at him while wringing out your hair was making him hot in the face.

“I can’t believe you’re still a ten-year-old, Mat.”

“Umm, excuse you” He scoffed and put on a mock offended voice. “I was actually eleven, for your information.”

“Yeah, ‘cause that makes much of a difference.”

“You should be glad I couldn’t lift you back then. I probably would’ve ended up drowning you.” He caught the look on your face and smiled. “Accidentally, of course.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure.” You laughed a bit, but were quickly thrown off balance by a particularly strong wave crashing into you from behind and pushing you into a rock hard body.

“Woah, there, I don’t actually want you to drown.” This was Mat. Mat’s chest you’d fallen into, Mat’s arms that had caught you, Mat’s hard abs you were bracing yourself against, and Mat’s hair that dripped water down against your neck. The world seemed to freeze around you as you gazed up at him, not even realizing yet that you were practically feeling him up. And there, in the sunlight, his eyes had changed from honey-colored to the same gleaming, dazzling green you’d first seen eleven years ago today.

“There it is!”

“What?”

“The green! Your eyes are super green in the sun!”

Mat was quick to laugh. “Okay, you’re really hung up on my eye color, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.” You reached a hand up to brush a wet strand of hair away from his eyes and back behind his ear, not even thinking about how intimate it was. “You have really pretty hazel eyes, Mat.” His mouth softened into a smaller, gentler smile, but before he could even respond, though, your younger siblings were barging into the water, pushing between the two of you.

“Move it, lovebirds.”

“Remember to keep room for Jesus!”

“Jesus Christ, shut up, guys!” You backed away from Mat, not wanting to give off the wrong impression. “He’s my friend.”

“Yeah, whatever. Hey, mom wants you to run to the store to get some food for the week.”

“Now? We just got here!” You looked over at Mat, who was busying himself with splashing in the waves, trying to steer clear of your family for the most part. He didn’t need to, but you appreciated his thoughtfulness.

“Actually, her exact words were ‘she might as well do something for me’.”

You sucked in a breath and tried to ignore how deep her words cut. And so family week begins, huh? Of course there’s gonna be some shade thrown. According to your mom, you’d practically abandoned her after moving to New York at such a young age. You could see where she was coming from, sure, but it was a little overdramatic. “We’ll go later, when it’s too hot.”

“Yeah.” Your sister shrugged and tossed you a pair of goggles. “We’re gonna look for cool shells or fish or crabs or something. Mat wanna help?”

“Help with what?” Mat perked up, having heard his name. You smiled at the thought of inviting Mat into your family traditions, and your siblings getting along so well with him. Your sister tossed a pair of goggles over to him.

“Oh yeah, he’s totally helping.”

A few hours passed by quickly, too quickly for your liking, and, though Mat got bored pretty quickly of looking for shells, he and your brother had apparently bonded when it came to annoying you and your sister- tossing chunks of wet sand and seaweed at you and grabbing your leg while underwater just to scare you. Ah, boys. It’d be infuriating if you weren’t so hopelessly in love with Mat.

And now, your parents had sent the two of you out on a trip to get enough food for one week. It wasn’t that big of a deal, but you had just gotten here and wanted to spend as much time as possible in the water. You could deal with this arrangement, though, considering it was the hottest time of day and you’d probably be burning if you were out there. Also, this just meant more alone time with Mat but, as much as you loved the domesticity of it, Mat really, really didn’t seem to be enjoying himself.

“I can’t believe they sent us to do this.” Mat whined beside you, slouched over on his crossed arms and pushing the cart halfheartedly.

“Well, I’d love to be on the beach too, but we will have to eat sometime this week.”

“I guess.” He followed behind you silently for a few minutes, still mopey as you picked certain things from a list off of the shelves. Just as you thought you were finished and could go check out, he perked up at something. “Oh! I forgot to give you this.” He pulled something small out of his pocket and opened his fist to reveal a tiny, spiral seashell.

“Wow, that’s cute!" You took it from him, trying to ignore the sparks that ignited in you when your hands touched ever so softly. “And it already has a little hole in it! I could put it on a necklace! Thanks, Mat.”

“No problem,” his face was warm and smiley, always happy to make you happy. “I just found it in the water earlier and thought you’d like it. You like pretty things.”

“I do like pretty things.” You caught yourself before letting your gaze fall over him, but God, it was true. He was pretty. You thought for a moment, looking at the cart of food before an idea popped up in your head. “You know what? Even if my parents forced us to go shopping, we’re gonna have some fun for ourselves.”

“Oh yeah?” He laughed a bit, always a welcome sound. “And how do you suggest we have fun in a store?”

“Well, first, I’m gonna find something to make this into a necklace. Then, there’s a souvenir shop across the street from here...” You trailed off and sent him a questioning look. “I’d really like to see you in some of the Hawaiian shirts they always have over there.” He smiled and shook his head at you, and you knew he was coming with.

“Only if you get one too.”

So, one thing you learned on your first day at the beach was that Mat Barzal hated the “adultness” of grocery shopping, but loved shopping when it was for fun. You loved the intrigued look on his face when you pulled him along into the store, with all its brightly colored merchandise and knickknacks for beachgoers and vacationers. You loved the way his eyes lit up as he watched the hermit crabs and their pretty hand painted shells with amazement and begged you to get one. And, most importantly, you loved the disgusted look on his face when you held up a busy, floral printed shirt and suggested he try it on. “No way.”

“Come on, you’d look good in it!” He’d look good in anything, honestly, but you couldn’t just tell him that. Friends, friends, friends. He shook his head and held up a less dramatic shirt.

“What about this?”

“Wow, I didn’t think you were one to play it safe, Mat.”

“I’m not playing it safe! That thing is…” He stopped and rolled his eyes, seeing your attempt at puppy dog eyes. Yeah, you could get literally anything you want out of him already, and those big, innocent eyes just had him melting on the spot. Like he realized this morning, you have him so wrapped around his finger. He wanted to be serious, but he couldn’t help but laugh a bit at the situation. “Do you really want me to buy it?”

“I won’t make you wear it ever again after this week, I swear! I’ll never bring it up again.”

“Fine.” He grimaced again at the pattern but couldn’t help the smile that played at his lips as he grabbed it from you. He would really do anything for you. He could imagine Tito laughing at him in his head, claiming he was just so whipped. Yeah, he decided, he definitely was. “But I get to pick something for you then.”

“Bring your worst, Barzy.”

At first, you had expected him to pick something embarrassing, or silly, or plain stupid looking, but this was Mat Barzal, you had to expect the unexpected. So when he came up to you with a big smile and his hands hidden behind his back, you didn’t know what he could have back there, but that smile meant it must have been something crazy. “You can’t back out after I show you.” It worried you a little that you couldn’t back out, but you were just as stubborn as him and you needed to see him in that Hawaiian shirt.

“Deal.”

“Alright.” He presented you with what he picked out with a little “Ta-da!” and smiled when your eyes widened at his selection. In his hands was nothing embarrassing, nothing strange like you expected him to get for you. It was a simple, beachy romper with a bow as a belt tied around the waist. It was actually pretty cute, although not generally something you would wear. “Do you like it?”

“Wow. Seriously?”

“What’s wrong?” He looked genuinely concerned, as if worried he’d done something wrong.

“Nothing. This is, like, actually cute. I thought you were gonna get me something embarrassing. I practically forced you to get a shirt you don’t even like, and now you’re being all nice, it’s kinda making me feel shitty!”

“Nah, it’s no big deal. The shirt’s not that bad. And, I just thought…” He paused and shifted his weight on his feet a bit. “Well, you look really nice in this color. And your birthday is in a few days. So, this can be your birthday look. Hey, you can't back out anymore. It was a deal.” You couldn’t stop yourself from curling your arms around his waist and hugging him, bringing your face into his chest. You didn’t loosen your grip until you felt his arms fold around you as well, and felt his chin dipping down to rest against the top of your head.

You gave his chest a playful whack. “You’re so stupid nice, Mat. You don’t have to wear the ugly shirt.”

“Oh no, I’m definitely wearing the ugly shirt.”

And he did.

The day passed much too quickly and the sun was soon setting on your first night on the beach, laying out a lovely backdrop for a family campfire down by the shore, just above the waterline. Mat had come out of the house, a bag of marshmallows in his hand and a smile on his face when he saw you laugh at his shirt. “What? I definitely rock this.”

“Can anyone really rock that pattern?”

“Me, duh.” He laughed and watched you run down to the water, your one piece swimsuit hugging your body as you smiled back at him for a moment and made his heart skip a beat.

You looked so pretty standing with your feet in the water and smiling over your shoulder at him like that, your hair was blowing around your face. He wanted so badly to bring you into his arms, hold you, tuck your hair behind your ears and take your face between his hands and just kiss you in the sunset. He felt a punch to his shoulder lightly and looked over to see your younger brother there. “Stop staring at her, you creep.”

Mat scrambled for an explanation, “I- uh I wasn’t.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Dude, shut up.” Your sister looked up from her phone “they’d be cute together.”

“Ew, that’s so gross…”

As your siblings started arguing back and forth, Mat moved aside to distance himself from them as politely as he could. It was nice to meet them and all, but he wasn’t sure how comfortable he was talking about his relationship with you. Anyway, he was here for you. Only you. He moved over to where your parents were sitting at what would soon be the fire and dropped the bag of marshmallows he’d gotten from the house. “You’re an angel, Mathew.” Your mom reached up to grab his face between her hands, startling him a bit. “I can see why my daughter wanted to bring you.”

“Oh, wow, thank you.”

“Mathew,” your father looked up from the sand and Mat worried he was going to bring up their conversation from this morning. The conversation about how Mat may possibly have more than platonic feelings for you- damn it, he hated that he caved and told him- and the conversation about what would happen if he hurt you. But no, your father pointed to the water. “It looks like (Y/N) wants you.”

Sure enough, you were standing there, waving for Mat and smiling at him again. He couldn’t bite back the smile on his face as he slid the shirt off of his shoulders and dropped it in the sand where your dad was already working on getting the fire started. “Well, do you need any help with the fire?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mathew,” your mother sighed with a smile, “Just go to her.”

The air was still warm, but the ocean was starting to cool, lapping cold against your ankles when Mat came up next to you. You could feel his arm graze against yours- he was standing that close to you, admiring the sunset- the pastel oranges and pinks lighting up across the sky hanging over the ocean. But none of the scene in front of you was as beautiful as what was next to you. The sun, low on the horizon, was casting it’s last rippling golden streams across the ocean and shining right across Mat, lighting him up like the Greek-God-like statue he was- bouncing off of the definition in his chest and abs, igniting his eyes with that dazzling green, and pulling that beautiful, gleaming smile onto his lips.

Wow.

“Beautiful.”

“Yeah, it is.”

He caught your eyes and you were done for.

Maybe it was the way the sun was bouncing off his immaculate bone structure, catching all the right places- the height of his cheekbones, the firmness of his torso, the color in his eyes- maybe it was the lack of space between the two of you, maybe it was the serotonin rushing through your veins, but in that moment everything beyond you and Mat standing in the water disappeared in your mind and your gaze fell to his lips- so warm and inviting…

Or maybe it was just hormones.

His hand reached for your arm, sparking up wildfires whenever his fingers danced across the surface of your skin. He parted his lips. “It’s so crazy that we’re actually back here after eleven years.” His whisper was soft, delicate, afraid to break the sweet moment.

“I know.” Your voice was shaky, nervous, and you took a moment to compose yourself, dragging your gaze away from the gorgeous man beside you and focusing on the waves lapping at your feet. “It’s so weird.”

“But it’s amazing.” His hand found it’s way down to yours, touching it softly, fingertips to fingertips but not exactly holding it. “You know, your family doesn’t seem as overwhelming as you made them sound.”

“Oh, no, my siblings are great. And my parents are great seperate, but together... just give it some time. They’re gonna snap.”

“And I’ll be there to take you away when they do.” He looked so genuine in the moment, no jokes, no teasing, just dead serious. He was here for you- you knew that. He sighed, turning towards the shore and pulling you along with a soft smile. “I think they got the fire started. Guess we should go join them.”

The last thing you wanted to do was leave your little bubble with Mat and rejoin your family, but when you settled down on the sand and leaned against Mat, it was all okay.

It made you feel butterflies, sitting so close to him, wrapped in a towel and sharing a blanket, feeling his thigh touching yours and seeing him all smiley and lit up by the light of the fire, the smell of salt in the air surrounding you and the sound of waves crashing behind you. It might have been a bit tense as your father questioned him, not quite knowing or trusting this boy their daughter brought along, but Mat easily blocked out any awkwardness.

When the conversation turned to Mat’s career, your mother seemed a bit concerned that he hadn’t gone to college. She was a sports fan, but when it came to you, she wanted your friends and especially boyfriends and potential husbands to be smart and successful. To her, that meant college, and just playing a sport wasn’t successful in her books. You knew Mat wouldn’t talk back to your mom, so you were determined to brag for him about all of his accomplishments. He may not have gone to college, but he was damn successful. “Actually, last year Mat got the Calder- he was the best rookie in the league.” You clarified for your mom. “And earlier this year he was in the All Star Game.”

“Oh, really? Congratulations, Mathew.” At least your dad seemed interested now. Mat smiled, obviously pleased to have your dad's approval. Approval? No, his respect, maybe. “You must be a pretty good player.”

“Thanks, sir.” He grinned to himself and looked over at you, proud he had seemingly gotten into good terms with your father.

“I’m sure I would’ve heard about you, but I stopped watching hockey a while back.”

“Why’d you stop watching?” It seemed like an innocent question, but it had everything coming to a stop. Mat had never been someone who killed the crowd at parties, so the awkwardness that fell over the group wasn’t something he was familiar or comfortable with. He saw the way your siblings immediately looked up from what they were doing as if something he said had sparked their interest. He saw the way your mother rolled her eyes and your father’s gaze narrow in her direction. He wasn’t dumb, and realized he must have struck a sour chord in the family drama.

Yikes.

“Things came up. Life happened, people happened. Couldn’t enjoy it anymore.” His voice went gruff, and your mom scoffed from across the campfire.

You decided, like always, to remove yourself before the argument would start. And you could feel it coming. “Okay… I think we’re gonna head inside now.” Blanket still wrapped around you, you dragged Mat to his feet and hurried to pull him away from the fire and up towards the house. Maybe you were holding him a little too close for friends to be, but he just always seemed to radiate heat and you were cold, so you couldn’t help the way your hand drifted up his arm. Okay, it may have been partially your fault. Maybe you should have told Mat about your parent’s mess of a marriage, or given him a list of topics to avoid, but obviously it was too late now. He didn’t speak until you were opening the back door.

“Shit, I messed that up pretty bad, didn’t I?”

“No, I probably should've told you about them. Sorry.” You laughed a little bit. “For future reference, my parents bonded over hockey and when they started hating each other, neither of them could enjoy it anymore. It sucks. So maybe don’t talk about hockey with them?”

“Great, it’s not like that’s one of the only things I know how to talk about.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the sarcasm dripping off of every word.

“Mat, believe it or not, you’re not just a hockey player. You’re a lot more than that.” You stopped outside your bedroom door and let your fingers glide down Mat’s arm, looking up at him with a smile. He was watching with soft, honey eyes and his pink lips- you swear to God- are just ever so slightly puckered, as if he’s begging to hear more praise. You didn’t want to let go of him just yet, and you’d do anything to keep the conversation flowing. “Hockey isn’t the only thing in that pretty brain of yours. You’ve got other interests. Other hobbies. And you’re just good at talking.”

“Wow,” He laughed a little bit, cheeks blazing. Mat’s heart was pumping fast. Here you were, standing so close to him with your fingers setting fires on his arm, smiling and complimenting him with that pretty mouth of yours, telling him he was more than he sold himself as- no one could blame him for feeling flustered. You could make him believe anything; just the way his name rolled off your lips had him starstruck, had him moving mountains for you. He was so hopelessly fascinated by you, but there was still that constant nagging of ‘friends friends just friends’ in his head, and he could only hope to make it through this week and come out with your relationship unchanged. He stood in the hallway, not wanting to say goodnight to you yet.

“And you really do rock this shirt, honestly.”

His smile gleamed, all white teeth and pink cheeks and scrunched up nose as he lifted his head in a burst of laughter. “Of course I do.”

“Alright, well, I have a bathroom attached to my bedroom so…” You finally let your hand fall off of Mat’s wrist, already missing the feeling of his skin under your fingertips. “This is goodnight.”

“Right.” Mat nodded before taking a few steps backwards to where his room was down the short hall. “Hey, at least we actually have seperate rooms tonight, right?”

“Yeah, that’s good.”

But, unbeknownst to you, Mat tossed and turned that night, unsure now of how to sleep in his own bed. No matter what, he just couldn’t stop thinking about the night before, when you had wrapped yourselves up in each other’s arms and fit so comfortably, so perfectly together, like two pieces of a puzzle. Mat would never admit the feelings he felt when first waking up to find you in his arms, how he laid and stared at you for almost an hour before getting out of bed, or how he everytime your eyes met you easily made him flustered and nervous, as if this was a first love- maybe it was. And he certainly would never admit the way he fell asleep tonight, on his side, with blazing cheeks and a racing mind, holding a pillow firm against his chest and pretending it was you.

The pillow wasn’t nearly as good as the real thing.

#here it is!#smile like sunshine #mat barzal #mathew barzal #nhl writing #nhl fanfiction #mine #op #fanfiction #imagine #fic

182 notes · View notes

huihuiheart · 4 years

Text

Goretober D6: Cursed -Treasure Hunter! Felix

Warnings: Tombs, curses, booby traps, skeletons, mentions of blood.

Gender Neutral Reader

Word Count:1,545

With the reputation he’d build for himself Felix had been fought after to search for nearly every kind of treasure people could imagine possible. What he was being asked to do by you though was a first. You needed him to find a whole city just to get what you were looking for, that is....if it was even there anymore.

“Let me get this straight. You want me to take you to the city of Moria? The very same Moria that has been lost for the past 600 years?” Felix inquires raising a brow in disbelief.

“Yep, that’s the one! I tracked an ancestor all the way back to a merchant who favored Moria for trade. I’ve checked for his items in any other cities and routes he may have been in. So my deal is you take me there and back and you can have anything else you find in Moria, all I want is his stuff. That’s it.” You explain yet again, not that you can really blame Felix. There was a reason you’d come to the best treasure hunter there was, finding the city of Moria was by no means an easy task.

“And what exactly was it that belonged to him?” Felix asks another thing, only now he’s moving to stand and head towards the wall of books filled with maps and information.

“Mostly journals of his travels and other such papers. A few pieces of jewelry that are family heirlooms, but nothing substantial in that regard. I’m more looking for personal reasons and for the sake of research. I’ll pay very little mind to the treasure.” You assure him watching as he pulls a few books from the shelves.

“Not the first time I’ve heard that from an archaeologist.” Felix mumbles not fully convinced, only you laugh a little.

“Well it’s a good thing I’m only an archaeology student then, hm?” You playfully counter and for the first time you actually see Felix smile.

“I guess so. At least you’re a smart enough student to know I’m the best at this.” Felix glances up from the books to smirk smugly at you.

“Only a fool would think otherwise.” You stroke his ego while placing some things before him, the clues you’d collected on how to find Moria.

“And what exactly is all of this?” Felix questions looking at you unimpressed.

“Information I’ve gathered about the location. Some of it is from asking around. Most of it is from stuff salvaged from where my ancestor had been in the past. We found a few journal pages from before he disappeared. Including one saying how many days it would be until he arrived at Moria if he left the city of Cin and headed Northeast.” You inform him turning to that page and at least for the moment impressing Felix a bit.

“You really did your research hm?” Felix hums in acknowledgment that you did actually have some useful information to offer.

“I tried, I didn’t want to come entirely empty handed after all.” You agree and Felix nods collecting the stuff.

“We should go, if we hurry we might be able to catch a flight to that general area now. We can look over everything on the flight and when we find a spot to set up base.” Felix leaves no room for discussion as he grabs his gear and research material and rushes out to head towards the airport. Chasing after you try to keep up, journeying to the nearest modern city to where Cin had been located to follow in the footsteps of your ancestor. Felix paying little mind to you as he focuses on what information he can gather on the flight, letting you trail on the way to a spot where he knew you both could settle in for the night.

“So tomorrow we’ll head to where the remains of Cin are, look for more clues there before heading on our way. We’ll head Northeast from there, I’ve narrowed it down to having to be in this radius already, but hopefully Cin will show us what we need to narrow that down. At most I’m hoping it’ll only take a week to find Moria’s location. So long as this radius is accurate.” Felix shares his findings pointing out the red circle he’s drawn over the map.

“Excellent, if it helps I can read some ancient Esian. Not to say I could perfectly interpret any clues we find on our way, but it’s better than nothing.” You offer and Felix simply nods.

“Get some rest, we have a long week ahead.”

____

Felix certainly knew what he was talking about, but it all seemed with it when you finally laid eyes on the ruins. You fatigue lifting as you practically floated into the vine covered ghost town. Finding a sign engraved near the entrance of the city.

“This is it Felix! This is Moria! I’m going to search for where my ancestor would have been, feel free to search for whatever treasure you want.” You break off from his side to bound off in search of the journals you wanted. Felix locked in on something else. The towering central building of the city, whether it was a palace or a temple he wasn’t yet sure, but he was almost certain that would be the majority of any ancient treasure would be stored. Glancing in the direction you bounded off, he noticed you fixed intently on reading ancient texts and exploring to examine the ancient civilization in an entirely different light than he did.

Climbing up to the top he examined the area, pulling out the basic Esian dictionary you’d put together for him to try and read what was written on the wall. Telling of traps stored below to prevent all from entering, yet Felix found no description of what it held, at least not that he understood. Only of the impending doom that would befall all who entered. Noticing you below he called down.

“Y/N! Can you come help me translate this text?” Felix words beckoned you up to join him. Silently following the text along the walls to get an idea of what it was talking about.

“Well? What is it?” Felix expectantly asks when you don’t open your mouth.

“I’m not entirely sure. I can tell you what I can read though.” You nod, finger showing a path along the words as you read, “ ‘To whomever shall come across this place, the tower of all great kings, be warned. This place shall only be opened with the blood of our past king when he has been called to join the gods above. Any who enter without this offering and approval from the gods themselves shall certainly be sacrificed this day.’ ...then it goes into some description that I can’t quite understand. Something about the procedure for the priests I think, how they should appease the gods if someone does break in. I can’t be sure though.” Your brows are furrowed as you try to decipher the next text.

“Anything on how to safely enter? Or am I winging it?” Felix questions already pulling rope from his pack.

“No, I don’t think that anyone really did that.” You chuckle a little watching him tie the rope around his waist and then a nearby pillar.

“Well I’ll hope it’s a pit like most and not a collapsing area then. You should probably head down and a safe distance away just in case though.” Felix suggests kneeling to examine the patterns on the floor. Giving you time to safely return to your exploring down below before messing with anything. Pulling some water from his pack he pours it to fill the little moat in the floor instead of blood to see if it reveals anything. Watching how it seeped below and showed the spot he could wedge something other to lift the round stone leaving to below. Flashing his flashlight below what he found wasn’t entirely what he was looking for. What he assumed were the bones of their past kings adorned with gold, more gold and jeweled items buried down there with them. Scaling down into it he examined everything before moving to bring up one of the skeleton's adorned the best along with any other valuable items he could hold on that trip. So focused on the items when he reaches the top that he doesn’t notice the curse taking effect at first. Not until he looks to see what the king was wearing once again only to find the skeleton standing before him, more climbing from the pit that he realizes what is happening. Scampering back, he’s quick to until his waist and grab his pack, shoving the crown and necklaces in his hand into the pack, before bolting before more than one skeleton can be in pursuit of him.

“Y/N! WE HAVE TO GO NOW! THE CURSE!” Felix screams by now at least five skeletons following him down, a few bearing elaborate swords.

Your eyes widen as you turn to meet the sight before you shoving your ancestors items into your bag, so go, “ FELIX HURRY!”

You two rushed off, hoping that they wouldn’t follow you too far out of the ruins.

#goretober #stray kids oneshot #felix oneshot

20 notes · View notes

totally-incorrect-theatre-quotes · 5 years

Text

Photograph (Fanfic)

I call this “Paige didn’t want to study for chemistry anymore, got home from work late, and even though she said she was going to wait until after finals she compulsively wrote a 4,000 word short story”

Or ya know, “Photography” ...the title of the fanfic

To say Lydia was excited was an understatement. Her and three students from her photography club at school were nominated as finalists in a statewide competition, the winner of that would go on to the nationals. Lydia was the youngest of the four, the only freshman with two juniors and a senior so while she didn’t think her chances of winning were all that great she was just thrilled to have simply been nominated. Of her portfolio, the nominated piece was a photograph of a chemical reaction she had been doing in her chemistry club. Her photography teacher said it was the strangest photo he had ever seen, but he claimed to be mesmerized by it. He actually wanted her to submit another picture but she didn’t think it would be fair to submit photos she took with the help of Adam, Barbara, or Charles. None of the other students could be floated to an ideal location for a picture, so she simply took these for fun.

Going to the competition was a whole week off of school, and four hours away from home. Not that she hadn’t been away from home before, her parents used to send her to sleep-away-camps all the time when she was little, but this would be the first time she would be away from her family since….well she didn’t want to think about it that way. She just wanted to be able to go and have a good time like a normal person would. She marked down the days on the calendar in the kitchen excitedly as the trip approached. Breaking the news to Beetlejuice was the hardest, even though he didn’t like to admit it he thought Lydia was funny and without her, it would just be adults in the house. Lydia promised to make it up to him and that they’d play a fun prank on her dad and Delia when she got back. In the end, the negotiated deal was two pranks on her dad and Delia as well as the guarantee that she would bring him back a zagnut from wherever she was going because “they taste different depending on where they’re from.” Lydia didn’t argue with him on that as the discussion had already gone on longer than she would have liked.

It was the night before the trip and shockingly the person most anxious was Barbara. She help Lydia pack her bag, constantly asking her if twelve outfits would be enough for a seven-day trip or if she needed a new toothbrush even though the one she had was perfectly okay, and hardly a month old. She expected this kind of behavior from her helicopter parent of her father but he was actually very laid back about the whole situation, probably trying to not overwhelm her because even though Lydia denied it she was anxious about the whole thing. Not only that but she really did want to win. She worked really hard at her hobbies, and it took her begging her teacher to let her redo the reaction eight different times just so she could get the photo exactly how she wanted it. She knew her shot of winning was really slim considering that not only was she the youngest in her group from school but she was one of the youngest in the whole competition. She was right in between the two different age categories as a freshman, but she managed to be nominated.

Lydia was sitting on her bed, the suitcase of her belongings on the floor beneath her. She glanced around the room trying to make sure there wasn’t something important she was forgetting when she smacked herself on the head for forgetting to grab at least one of her cameras. She picked up her favorite camera, though she only had two and the one was a very old polaroid camera she only used for aesthetic purposes and walked down to the kitchen to see what everybody else was up to that night. It must have been later than she expected because the only person downstairs was Barbara who was making herself her typical late-night snack of peanut-butter toast drizzled with honey.

“Too excited for tomorrow that you can’t sleep?” Barbara asked

Lydia shrugged, “No, I was just going over my last-minute checklist. Making sure I had all my ducks in a row.”

“Oh, so you’re back to being the duck queen?”

Lydia went to playfully smack Barbara’s arm but her hand simply slide through her as Barbara went non-solid to avoid the blow. Both laughed and she gestured for Lydia to join her in the late-night feast.

“I’m only teasing. So do you think you’re ready? Have you written your acceptance speech for when you blow the competition out of the water and win first prize.”

“Unlikely, all the other pictures I’ve seen look really impressive and I haven’t even gotten to see people from out of our district. I’m just looking forward to getting to spend time with my friends on the trip, they already talked about staying up late to tell ghost stories,” she laughed, “I guess I will be winning that game.”

“And you’re sure that you have everything all set? Did you pack your camera.”

She nodded and pointed at the camera around her neck, “It would take a lot for me to lose this thing.”

“And you have an extra outfit for every day of the trip plus the fancy dress that your dad bought for you to wear to the awards ceremony.”

Lydia simply groaned in response to that one. Her dad should understand by this point that she isn’t a bright and colorful kind of girl, but he insisted on a red and blue dress, arguing that black is too formal for the event she’s attending. The dress wasn’t ugly, it just wasn’t her style at all, but the fact that her dad went out of his depths to get it for her made her a little more willing to compromise and wear it.

“And it’s four hours away from here, do you have all your medicines packed. I know you’re allergic to penicillin so even if you have to go to the doctor out there because you got some kind of infection don’t let them prescribe you penicillin, amoxicillin, ampicillin-”

“I think I’m old enough to know my own allergies,” she laughed, “Besides I’m not sick so I don't think I’ll be needed an antibiotic any time soon.”

“Just making sure, and if you don’t like what they have to eat I convinced your dad to give you an extra twenty dollars so you can go buy yourself something else because I know you and you’d rather just skip that meal than say you don’t like something. I know it’s part of your anxiety so I figured this would be the easiest solution for you. So no skipping meals okay?”

“I did that twice because they were serving fish at school!” Lydia retorted trying not to be a little agitated with the lack of confidence Barbara had in her about this trip. She was still a kid, but she’s been alone before, she didn’t need the whole run down that she’s already gotten from her father and Delia.

Barbara smiled at her gently and the agitation faded, “I’m just so proud of you! This is a huge deal and when you get back with your first place trophy.”

“Ribbon and that’s if I even get first place which I’m not-”

“We’re going to have a celebratory dinner and cake!”

“I don’t get cake if I don’t get first place?” Lydia faked whined, knowing the answer

“Nope, so you’d better hope you get first place because I don’t just make a vanilla cake with cream cheese frosting for anybody.”

Lydia rolled her eyes, and without even thinking the words slipped off her tongue, “Okay mom.”

Neither of them said anything, nobody wanting to be the person who acknowledged it. Lydia felt the heat rising to her face instantly and tried to stammer out some kind of correction but she just got more and more flustered the harder she tried to fix it.

“No, no it’s okay!” Barbara tried to put the girl at ease but before she could even get the next sentence out Lydia ran upstairs and slammed her door shut. Feeling terrible Barbara tried to go and talk to Lydia but there was no answer when she knocked on the teenagers door. She only knew for sure that she was in there when something was thrown at the door in anger when Barbara tried talking to her through the door. She had no clue what she was supposed to do next, it was an accident. She knew Lydia didn’t mean to say it and Barbara certainly didn’t want to be viewed as a replacement for Emily. She never tried to be, she was always very careful about how she referred to Lydia. Though she often laments to Adam and Beetlejuice how Lydia is like the daughter she never got to have, she would never dream to say that to Lydia’s face. Instead, she tried to seem more like a friendly aunt who just so happened to live upstairs and also be there for Lydia anytime she needed her and help her with her homework and school problems. Suddenly Barbara felt really guilty, she hadn’t even realized it until then but she really did encroach into the motherly role maybe a little too much for Lydia’s comfort. She had been pretty overbearing about this trip ever since Lydia told her about it. She should have read the signals Lydia was giving a little more closely, then maybe this whole thing wouldn’t have happened. She didn’t notice that she was sitting with her back to her door until a groggy but concerned Charles was standing in front of her.

“What happened?” Barbara asked him

“I guess I could ask you the same thing. I just about thirty texts from Lydia telling me that she doesn’t want to go on the trip anymore. That she isn’t feeling well and doesn’t want to get anybody else sick and ruin it for them. You’ve clearly been with her tonight, what are we talking because I’m pretty squeamish. I can deal with her having a cough but please don’t tell me she has the stomach flu. I’m no good at seeing other people puke.”

“She’s not sick. Look this is all my fault, I’ve really been overstepping my bounds recently with this whole trip four hours away. I’ve been on her case about making sure she has everything packed and I know she didn’t mean it...Charles, she called me mom earlier. In the kitchen.”

He sighed, placing his hand on his temples, “Not exactly the problem I thought I would have to handle tonight, but I can’t say I didn’t see it coming. Look no offense, but I think it might be for the better if I’m the one who talks to her. She’s probably confusing her anger at herself for being angry at you.”

“Yeah, I’d be careful walking in. She threw something at the door when I was trying to talk to her. It sounded like it broke, I’m not sure if it’s glass.”

Barbara desperately wanted to make sure Lydia was okay but she knew Charles was right, it was better off if she left Lydia to cool down about the whole situation. She couldn’t imagine how confused she must feel. It’s one thing to accidentally call a teacher mom, but Lydia’s situation was a world of difference. She wandered around the house aimlessly for a little while until she just went back into the attic and told Adam about what happened.

“Well I mean it’s kinda cute that she called you mom.”

Barbara threw her book at her husband, “Adam! No, it’s not, she was really upset about it. I feel awful.”

“I know you feel bad about it but that just means that Lydia loves you so much that she sees you as someone she can trust like a mother. I know she knows you aren’t trying to become the new Emily. Nobody could compete with Emily Deetz for her. Look she’s just embarrassed about it, she’ll get over it by the morning and I’m sure she’ll be feeling fine for her trip.”

“God if she doesn’t go because of me I’ll probably never forgive myself.”

“She’s a resilient girl, I’m sure she’ll come around.”

Barbara nodded and let her husband envelop her in a much-needed hug, “She’s our girl, huh?”

When Charles knocked on his daughter’s door it was a quick response of “Go away Barbara.”

“It’s dad.”

The door creaked open and standing in front of him was a sullen Lydia wearing a nightdress that was a size too big for her, and rubbing aggressively at her eyes to cover up the fact that she had probably been crying, “What do you want? I told you I’m not feeling good.”

“Barbara told me about what happened.”

She scoffed, “Of course she did. Because everybody has to know how much of a freaking idiot I am.”

“Do you want to talk about it.”

“No I don’t. I just want everybody to leave me alone, but nobody ever listens to me. Nothing that you’re going to say is going to do anything. I don’t want to go anymore, it’s simple as that. It has nothing to do with what happened. I just don’t feel like it anymore. I’m not going to win anyway so what’s the point of even going?” she crossed her arms and slumped back down on her bed, “I’m not even really friends with the other kids that are going. They’re all way older than me, they probably don’t even want a dumb freshman following them around like some lost puppy.”

Charles sat on the edge of her bed, careful not to disrupt the sleeping cat nestled between the covers. He put his hands on the bottom half of her curled up leg, “I think this sudden change of heart runs a lot deeper than you being afraid of not fitting in with the other kids.”

“Gee, what gave that away dad?”

Charles tried to ignore the sarcastic tone she was taking up, trying to understand that she was very emotional right now and didn’t mean to be disrespectful, “So do you want to talk about what’s really bothering you? Because I don’t think it’s Barbara either.”

There was no response from Lydia besides her shifting position to laying face down in the bed, her face smooshed into her pillow. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Lydia mumbled something but it was muffled by the pillow.

“What?”

“I’m happy!” Lydia shot up and shouted, “Okay? I’m happy and I’m not supposed to be. No, like I know I’m allowed to be happy but it’s just...ughh I just don’t know how to explain it. It’s just so confusing.”

“You’re upset because you’re happy?”

Lydia nodded, “It’s just that everything has been going good recently and I don’t like it. It feels wrong, I feel wrong about it.”

“Honey it’s a good thing that you’re feeling happy! That’s what you’ve been working on with your therapist and with all of us here. That’s just the natural progression of your progress.”

“I feel so guilty about it. Like I’ve got so much going on in my life now. I’ve got school and babysitting, and photography club and this competition, and I’ve got Wendy and all you guys. I feel like I’m forgetting about mom. I don’t think about her as much as I used to. I used to think about her constantly and some days all I get is a quick memory, how terrible is that? I can hardly remember what her voice sounds like anymore. I promised her, I promised myself that I would never forget her and I’ve apparently already replaced her in my mind!” She was getting erratic now, the words flying out of her mouth faster than Charles could process them, “I never thought about it until...I just can’t believe I did that.”

“Sweetheart, it isn’t that big of a deal. It was an accident, everybody knows that. You know that.”

“I called her mom!” She shouted, throwing herself back into her pillow again, “I called her mom, dad!”

“It’s okay, it just slipped out. She’s someone you love and value-”

“I have a mother!” Lydia was crying now, “I have a mother, and I just called another person mom. She only died a year and a half ago, I should still be mourning but instead, I went out and found a new mom. I bet she’s really happy about that in the Netherworld, “Oh Emily Deetz, no don’t bother sending any signs to Lydia anymore. She’s completely moved on, in fact, she gone and outright replaced you!” ”

“You’re being too harsh on yourself!” Charles tried to tell her, but she wouldn’t acknowledge him, “You aren’t forgetting about your mother, you are just going through life. It happens, we all get caught up in things in our lives. You’re young, and though a lot of older people would tell you that your life isn’t hard work you’re really busy! Truthfully I would be more concerned if it had been a year and a half and you still hadn’t been able to go about your life. This isn’t a bad thing, it doesn’t mean that you’re a bad daughter because you don’t spend every waking minute thinking about her. You didn’t do that when she was here.”

She still kept her face buried in her pillow. Charles gently pushed her shoulder and rolled her over to look at him. Her eyes were glassy both from tiredness and sadness, “I feel like I’m betraying her and I know that makes me sound insane but it’s how I feel.”

“She would be so happy for you, you’re doing amazing things in your life and she would be so freaking proud of you. All of it, all the progress you’ve made. Just look at how far you’ve come, Lydia! I know how hard it must be for you to stop and wonder if you’re going through this right and honestly that’s just how life is sometimes. There’s a lot you will never know for certain but I can tell you right now that Emily would want above all else for you to be happy, to feel loved, and to love others. You’re doing all of that in spaids. So try not to feel guilty because you’re doing exactly what she would want you to do if she was here.”

Lydia sat up and pulled her cat into her lap, a few tears that had been building up streaked down her face and she quickly wiped them away, “I shouldn’t have lashed out at Barbara. It’s not her fault that I called her mom.”

“She understands.”

“I don’t know why it’s affecting me so much, it’s just that this is the first time that I’m going to be away from all you guys, and I’m...I’m scared. Ever since mom died you’ve all at least been around somewhere, I always had somebody else there that knew what was going on and now I’m going to be going four hours away for a whole week all by myself. I haven’t gotten them as bad as I used to but what if I have a nightmare and they make fun of me? It’s bad enough that I’m the youngest one going but if I have a nightmare and start crying they’re all going to make fun of me.” Lydia began to get more worked up and she leaned her head on Charle’s shoulders in an attempt to soothe herself, “I’m always caught in between being okay and then feeling bad that I’m doing okay and then making myself worse! Then I just take it out on everyone else.”

“I get like this too Lydia, it just feels more intense for you because you’re younger. God when I first proposed to Delia I felt like I was betraying Emily too and then when I told you I was convinced that I was doing the wrong thing, but I eventually knew that she wouldn’t want me to be lonely for the rest of my life. She would know that I still loved her, and missed her.”

“I miss her too.” Lydia lamented as she gently scratched her cat behind the ears, “I wish she could be here for the competition because she would love some of the photographs. Doug Hilton took a picture of like a bunch of people wearing these super creepy rabbit masks in a cornfield. It’s a really neat picture, it scared the teacher but I loved it.”

“I’m sure she would love all of them. Especially yours, but not because she’s biased, but because it is the best.”

“You’re starting to sound like Barbara.” Lydia laughed, her guilt and anger slowly starting to fade away as she thought about how her mom would feel.

“I’m serious though, you’ve got a real talent and I’d hate to see you miss out on this opportunity because you’re feeling afraid that enjoying yourself is somehow disappointing Emily. So what do you say? Do you still not want to go?”

Lydia thought about it for a second before shaking her head, “I want to go.”

Charles smiled at his daughter and patted her proudly on the shoulder, “I knew you would. Now it is way too late for you to still be up. You have to be on the bus for eight o’clock tomorrow morning, try to get some sleep okay?”

She nodded, laying down in her bed, pulling the covers up to her face and closing her eyes. Her cat purred as she snuggled up against Lydia’s stomach. Charles gave Lydia a soft kiss on the forehead before shutting the lights off and closing the door.

In the end, Lydia didn’t win the competition. She was right that she was the youngest one there. First place went to a senior from a school she had never even hear of, but Lydia didn’t care. When she came back home after the week she sat at the dinner table telling everyone all the fun stories she had from her trip, laughing until her side hurt when Beetlejuice threw a piece of cake at her father’s face, but Charles’ just swiped her face with his finger and licked the frosting off in stride claiming he preferred his cake that way. Even though there was no blue first place ribbon attached to her photography it was framed and hanging on the wall alongside her invitation to the event. By the time everyone had been partied out that night it was just Lydia and Barbara still in the kitchen. Without saying a word Lydia leaped into a huge hug before trotting up happily to her room, her kitten scurrying behind her.

“That’s my girl,” Barbara whispered.

87 notes · View notes

ridiculousn3sswrites · 5 years

Text

A Plan from the High Priestess - My Princess Pt. 6

*Zendaya x Reader

*Summary: Rihanna has a plan and it’s a bit more than Reader expected.

*Warnings: Alcohol. Let me know if I missed anything.

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five || Part Six || Part Seven || Part Eight || Part Nine || Part Ten

**********

The next morning you were woken by a pounding on your chamber doors. You and Zendaya had slept in later than usual, the emotional burden of the past few days finally taking its toll on you. As soon as she woke, Zendaya jumped up and began dressing in her daily wear. Once she was in an acceptable state of dress, you got up to answer whoever was still pounding on your door.

“Princess,” a young woman you recognized as one of Rihanna’s messengers gasped as you opened the door.

“Yes?” You asked, heart still pounding at the realization that you and Zendaya could have been caught.

“I apologize for bothering you, Princess, but the High Priestess has requested your presence,” the woman continued.

“Did she give a time and location?” Zendaya asked, walking up behind you as she sheathed her sword. The woman flinched slightly at the action.

“She said to arrive at her house around midday. The High Priestess told me to mention something about a potential solution to your current issues,” the woman replied in the same timid voice. You had a feeling that Zendaya fiddling with her dagger did nothing to put the woman’s nerves at ease.

“Thank you,” you told her, grabbing a few silver pieces from your side table and placing them in the woman’s hand. “For your troubles. Please let the High Priestess know that we will be there.”

“Thank you, Princess. Lady Zendaya,” the woman said, nodding before turning on her heel. As soon as you could hear her footsteps fading down the hall, you closed the door and turned to Zendaya. It was as though a weight had been removed from her shoulders; she looked like the same woman she had been before your betrothal.

“Rihanna has a plan,” Zendaya said.

“It appears she does,” you replied, trying to stop the smile you felt coming. The second Zendaya’s smile appeared, you stopped trying to prevent your own. You practically jumped on Zendaya, wrapping your arms around her neck as you kissed her. If Rihanna had a plan, you were saved. You wouldn’t have to get married to someone you didn’t love, leave your kingdom, and leave behind the love of your life. Zendaya laughed, pressing kisses all over your face.

“We can’t go meet with Rihanna if you’re still in your nightclothes, my princess,” Zendaya told you, removing herself from your hold.

“I don’t want to call the handmaidens in, you know how nosy they are,” you whined. Zendaya rolled her eyes.

“Then wear something that doesn’t require a thousand layers,” she suggested.

“You know I don’t have anything like that.”

“I know for a fact that you do. Give me ten minutes, I’ll return with something.” With that, Zendaya left your room, placing a quick kiss on your cheek before she exited. You flitted about the room, unsure of what to do while you waited for her return. Eventually you decided on writing notes to excuse yourself from your various lessons of the day, knowing that a meeting with the High Priestess would be enough to properly rid you of your duties without getting you in trouble. You might have to explain (and lie) about the meeting later, should your parents ask you, but for now this was the simplest path of action.

Just as you finished putting your signature on the last note, Zendaya quickly opened the door and slipped in. You turned to look at her, smiling slightly as the dress you saw in her arms. It was one of your simpler ones, and one of Zendaya’s favorites on you. You remembered how easily the compliments had flowed from her lips whenever the seamstress left the room for something. “Love, was this just an excuse for me to wear that dress?”

“I did tell you that you had a dress that didn’t require a thousand layers, didn’t I? I’m surprised you forgot about this one,” Zendaya commented as she held the dress at an arm’s length to look at it. The little smirk on her lips confirmed your suspicions, and you couldn’t help but laugh to yourself.

“I don’t need to remember it if you do,” you teased. You stood and walked to her, taking the dress from her. “I forgot how nice this dress is. It’s a lot better than my formal gowns.”

Zendaya was practically beaming from your indirect praise. You felt your heart swell with adoration at how proud she looked, just standing there for a second as you looked at her. You couldn’t believe that Rihanna actually figured out a way for you to remain here, with the woman you loved so. “You have to get ready, princess. You can’t just stare at me all day,” she joked, breaking the moment. You rolled your eyes, even with your inability to be annoyed with her.

“Then help me get ready.”

“Gladly, my princess.”

**********

When you and Zendaya reached Rihanna’s house, she was already waiting for you. “Come on, I don’t have all day and I’m pretty sure you both want to hear this as soon as you can,” Rihanna called out as she watched you tie up your horses.

“And yet it seems like you have infinite time. How many businesses are you up to now?” Zendaya joked back. Rihanna’s laughter rang out for a second before playfully scolding Zendaya. The two people Zendaya truly let her guard down around were you and Rihanna, and when Rihanna was around her playful nature seemed to increase tenfold. Although they weren’t related, they had a sisterly bond that you always loved seeing.

The three of you walked into Rihanna’s house, Rihanna and Zendaya already joking around. It was like they were making up for the few weeks they hadn’t seen each other, even if the nature of your visit wasn’t a social one. As soon as you made it to the sitting room, Rihanna motioned for you and Zendaya to take a seat as she continued to walk through the room. “I know it’s only midday, but do either of you want some wine? I was just gifted some good ones,” she offered.

“I’ll have a glass,” Zendaya perked up. You gave her a questioning look; it wasn’t often she allowed herself to drink, especially if she was on the job.

“Celebrating something, love?” You teased. Zendaya simply smiled at you, telling you all you needed to know.

“Sorry, but I’m not quite sure you should be celebrating just yet,” Rihanna interjected, walking back into the room with wine glasses and a bottle that you didn’t recognize. You wondered just who had gifted it to her, but it wasn’t uncommon for foreign kingdoms to send gifts to Rihanna to try to gain the favor of the High Priestess. It was uncommon for these gifts to actually work on her, though.

“What do you mean? I thought you summoned us because you had a plan,” you questioned as Rihanna poured the wine. You hadn’t originally planned on drinking, but it looked like you might need it.

“I never said that. I said I may have a potential solution,” Rihanna said, raising a finger to stop you from saying anything more. “I have some contacts in the Prince’s kingdom, and they put me into contact with his best friend, Harrison.”

You and Zendaya sat in silence, waiting for Rihanna to continue. Instead, she finished serving the wine, nudging two glasses towards you and Zendaya. She took a sip of her own wine, picking up the bottle and looking at it.

“This isn’t bad at all,” she commented before putting the bottle back down on the table. “Right, so, I’ve talked to his best friend from home, and I think I’ve gotten a pretty good idea of how we can work this to our advantage. We can’t just do something like have you act wild to make him want to call off the engagement, his parents are pretty set on this.”

“I’m aware. Sir Chadwick said we may be able to convince him to allow me to stay here instead of us ruling his kingdom,” you explained. Rihanna took another sip of wine, trying to hide her amused smile.

“Sounds like Chadwick,” she finally said. “That’s not a bad idea, actually. Maybe we should’ve coordinated on this. Anyways, we’re going to try something a bit more suitable to the situation. If we can find a replacement for you, then they’re not going to question him calling off the engagement.”

“It won’t work, he’s already been through the courting process,” you told her. “We were talking and he mentioned previous people he’s courted.”

“Well that’s just disrespectful. Zendaya, don’t you think it’s disrespectful to talk about past relationships with someone you’re engaged to?”

“Yes, it’s disrespectful, but do we have to focus on that? The man is engaged to my girlfriend,” Zendaya replied, disbelief on her face.

“Right, right, sorry.” Rihanna shook her head as if to clear her thoughts and focus. “Anyways, Harrison mentioned that he might know a few people that the Prince has previously had interest in.”

“And how are we going to manage this? It’s not like we can just bring a ton of princesses over here for no reason, and then shove Prince Thomas in the middle of all of them,” Zendaya commented. The look on Rihanna’s face instantly made you nervous. The little smirk she gave as she sipped on her wine just screamed trouble and scheming, but you wouldn’t be here if that wasn’t exactly what you’d asked of her.

“Rihanna, what exactly do you have planned?” You questioned, having no idea where she was going with any of this. It was always like this with Rihanna: if you thought you knew what she was going to do, you were definitely wrong. You didn’t even want to guess.

“It’s a work in progress, but we’re going to hold a ball for some of our allies,” Rihanna replied. “If the girls Harrison told me about just so happen to show up, then that would work wonderfully in our favor, wouldn’t it?”

“I like the idea, but how can we be sure that it works?”

“He’s a man. If we put the temptation there, he’ll be bound to give in. We’re not only taking the initial temptation of attractive princesses - not that you aren’t attractive, (y/n) - but we’re adding the princesses that his best friend knows he’s had interest in. We’ll just allow for the fates to work their magic as they so often do.”

“And if it doesn’t work?” Zendaya asked.

“Then we allow for Sir Chadwick and (y/n) to proceed with their plan. The two of you would still be able to live as you do, but perhaps with a bit more sneaking around than you currently do,” Rihanna answered. “It’s not uncommon for royalty to maintain relationships with people outside of their arranged marriages.”

“Rihanna’s plan will work. It has to,” you told Zendaya, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“You two put a lot of faith in me, which I greatly appreciate, but you do have to realize that there’s still the chance it may not work out. I sincerely hope that it will, but we need to prepare ourselves if it doesn’t,” Rihanna said, voice gentle. You nodded, knowing that she was right. While you and Zendaya sincerely believed in Rihanna and her plans, you had to account for human error. After all, it was people you were dealing with here, and people always seemed to have surprises at the ready.

You and Zendaya stayed at Rihanna’s for a while longer, not quite wanting to go back to your realities just yet. There were few places where it felt like time just stopped and you could live in the moment: your quarters, the gardens, and Rihanna’s house. Of course you could still be found out at any moment, but there was a peace that lived in these places. You knew the moment you left Rihanna’s house, you would have to go back to your role as Prince Thomas’s betrothed.

**********

The second you returned to the castle, you were met by a flurry of activity. The atmosphere just exuded chaotic energy, and you could tell that Rihanna had already made her suggestion. The ball could have taken place a few months from now, giving the castle enough time to prepare, but that would have cut it too close to your father’s deadline. Instead, Rihanna planned for the ball to take place within the next month or so, wanting to give enough time to implement the backup plan, should the need arise.

Your normal lessons were thrown askew with the sudden excitement in the castle, so you and Zendaya were wandering through the castle, trying to find something to do while trying to avoid the visiting Prince. “You do know you’ll have to behave yourself at the ball, right?” You asked as you walked with no destination in mind.

“I wasn’t aware I was invited.” You scoffed at that, not completely sure if she was joking or not. You wanted to roll your eyes, but you stopped yourself from doing so just in case she wasn’t.

“Of course you’re invited. If you want to attend as a guest rather than a guard, I’d make a case for that too.”

“Would I be forced to wear a dress?” Zendaya asked, and this time you knew she was messing with you.

“I thought as much was obvious,” you teased back. Zendaya laughed.

“In that case, I think I’d rather miss the ball. You can tell me what happens afterwards.” Before you could say anything, one of your parents’ runners turned the corner, a look of relief on his face.

“Princess, you’re difficult to find when you wish to be,” he said. “Your parents wish to speak with you in the throne room. Lady Zendaya, you are welcome to join her, of course.”

“Thank you. Did my parents say anything about why they wish to speak with me?” You asked. He simply shook his head.

“I’m afraid not, they only told me to fetch you.” With that, the runner turned on his heel and went back the way he came, leaving you and Zendaya in the hall.

“Two silver pieces say I’m about to get yelled at,” you muttered as you and Zendaya began making your way to the throne room.

“And why’s that?”

“I don’t know, I just have a feeling,” you told her. If your mother was there, then she’d definitely find a reason to yell at you. She was smarter than most people gave her credit for, so there was a good chance she’d figured out your plan. It wasn’t necessarily the most covert operation, but sometimes hiding in plain sight was the better option. It was all just a matter of if your mother was paying attention to the things going on around her.

As soon as you walked into the throne room, you could tell your parents were stressed. You felt a little bad, knowing that it was something that you were pretty much directly responsible for, but it needed to be done. “(Y/n),” your father addressed you first. “The High Priestess sent a message that she strongly suggests we have a ball and invite our allies. You wouldn’t have anything to do with this, would you?”

“No, father,” you immediately lied.

“Then why did the High Priestess send for you this morning?” Your mother questioned.

“I’d asked her for advice concerning my betrothal. She didn’t want to give me said advice without knowing much about the Prince, so she did her research before giving me advice,” you replied. It wasn’t necessarily a lie, but it wasn’t the complete truth either. If your parents knew you were trying to get out of your engagement, they’d shut down everything. Your mother narrowed her eyes, and you felt your heart skip a beat.

“We’re going to have to postpone some of your lessons so our nobility can properly prepare for the ball,” your father spoke. You only gave him half of your attention, knowing Zendaya would be able to remember the changes being made to your schedule. You focused on your mother, practically able to see her mind working to see if you were telling the truth or not. You registered your father dismissing you, so you nodded in acknowledgement before turning to leave the throne room, Zendaya following close behind.

“So what were the changes?” You asked as soon as you were a safe distance from the throne room.

“No etiquette classes until the ball, and your classes with Sir Chadwick are going to be cut back,” Zendaya told you. “What happened?”

“I’m worried my mother is suspicious of our intentions. I don’t know how we can manage to keep her from finding out,” you explained.

“Don’t worry, my Princess. She won’t find out,” Zendaya consoled you, placing a hand on your shoulder. You relaxed slightly, believing in Zendaya’s words. They would be the truth until reality proved otherwise, and you were completely fine with that.

**********

Tag List: @honeyyhuggs, @uncookspaget

Permanent Tag List: @spidey-pal

#zendaya x reader #zendaya imagine #zendaya coleman x reader #celebrity imagine

63 notes · View notes