#including the sprint obviously clearly of course

[buzzinrusso]

PILLOW //Alexia putellas xpregnant reader

REQUESTED BY: @virgeouse3896

Prompt:Alexia being protective and hating your favorite pregnancy pillow

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘭𝘴 𝘣𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 🫶🫶

Fluff

You and Alexia have always wanted children. From the moment you started dating in 2019 , you couldn't imagine a future with wife and kids with anyone other than Alexia, and Alexia, in return, made sure to prove to you that she also couldn't agree a life without you.

Your dreams of having a family with Alexia only intensified when she got down on one knee with a beautiful princess cut ring and an even more beautiful smile on her face

One year later, in November 2023, right before the world Cup, you fell pregnant . It was yours and Alexia's dreams of a family come true, you were both obviously over the moon with the discovery of your pregnancy,

sure, it had took you guys a while to tell both of your families, 20 weeks to be exact, but both sides were extremely happy for you. , Same with both of your friend groups and alexia's teammates.

After finding out that you are pregnant, Alexia has made it her personal mission to keep her eyes on you 24/7, that includes you going to all her games, except international ones where she made sure to face time you every moment she could, taking you with her for team bonding ,sometimes taking you with her to training and physio sessions.

That's why you were here right now, sitting in alexia's friends and families box with her mom and sister with your 7 month pregnant stomach uncomfortably sticking out.

Barcelona were playing against Chelsea and Barcelona were losing 0-1 , your could read your wife's frustration from where you were sitting, she, and the rest of the team,was very clearly irritated with the current score, especially after Alexia scored a goal that was not counted.

The match was nearing it's end, Barcelona were slowly but surely losing hope in scoring the last two minutes, the dear that they had lost quickly setting in for some players.

The final whistle blew and as the Chelsea player celebrated, the Barcelona girls were taking g a cool down lap, meanwhile Alexia was making her way to the barrier to get you down so you can go with her to the locker room.

You wife spotted you with her slightly teary eyes and sprinted into action to go and get you down. She had don't this multiple times, whether it was a Barcelona game or a Spain game.

She spoke some words to the security guy that then made his to you and took you to where Alexia was waiting for you by the tunnel.

The first thing she did when she saw you was pull you into a bone crushing hug as you murmured sweet nothings into her ear.

"How's our little girl? " Alexia asked with a soft face , she then meant down and kissed your bump slightly before going up and capturing her lips with yours I'm a passionate kiss.

"She's okay, what about you? Are you okay? " you asked with a worrisome tone.

"I'll be okay, I just need you and our little girl to be not disappointed of me"

"Alexia, I'll always be more than happy with you, your my wife, the mother of my child, the love of my life, of course I'll never be disappointed of you. " you replied

With that, Alexia attention quickly diverted back to your bump and then to the clearly heavy bag you were carrying.

"You shouldn't hold that! When we get home. E your going immediately to the couch or bed because you need to rest! " she dragged you to the locker room that was half empty as all the girls left, grabbed both of your stuff and dragged you to the car.

When you got hope, you sort of hobbled to the bed you and alexia shared and threw your self on.

Alexia took a quick shower and came out of the bathroom to start her daily talks with your daughter. Yes, the daughter that was in your stomach.

She strongly believes that if the baby can hear her, she can talk to her freely as she will memorize Alexia voice and won't be surprised by it when she is born.

"Hola, mí niña... " the next 20 minutes were spent like this with you chiming in every couple of minutes.

You would never admit it but you loved when Alexia did stuff like this.

Later, you turned off the light and went to hug your body sized slightly tilted pillow which felt like that most comfortable thing at the moment, which meant turning your back to Alexia.

Alexia hated that damn pillow.

#womens football #woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #awfc imagine #woso one shot #cata coll #alessia russo x reader #woso soccer #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #aitana bonmati #ona batlle #barcelona femeni #barca femeni #lucy bronze

[sonego]

“Maybe one of my best races that I’ve ever done. At least that I remember. It was awesome and... one of the races that I would say I’m the most proud of, given the adversity that we experienced during the weekend and I think this just proves that you should never ever give up.”

Lewis Hamilton after the BRAZILIAN GP 2021

#lewis hamilton #f1 #f1edit #formula one #brazilian gp 2021 #nico.gif #lewis #i'm a little late sorry :( but HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TO THE BEST RACE THAT HAS EVER BEEN RACED IN F1 ! #including the sprint obviously clearly of course #i love him so so so so so much i am ltierally crying over it #i actually haven't felt comparable joy ever since i know this sounds dramatic but it's true it was unparalleled #i dedicate this to mina and all other brazil 21 enjoyers <3 #also. the 'at least that i remember' is soooo sexy like. he's won so much he's had so many insanely good races that he doesn't remember some #like even some GREAT ones he doesn't remember bc he's just won a fucking lot. god

[hareofhrair]

Beauty and the Beast story preview

I'm working on this beauty and the beast inspired monster romance short story and I thought I'd share the first scene to maybe get folks interested! When it's done it'll be posted on my patreon.

This is going to be a somewhat dark take, focused on a predator/prey dynamic, very much leaning into the monstrousness of the beast and the necessity of approaching romance with a nonhuman in a very nonstandard way.

In terms of content, everything that happens will still of course be explicitly consensual. I may do dubcon in a different story in the future, but it'll be the exception and very clearly marked. Most of what I write will always be clearly consensual. The beast is very non-human- primarily quadrupedal and so far he either doesn't speak at all or only very rarely. He's fully intelligent and capable of communicating, but also very much not a human. Not sure about other content tags or warnings to include yet since it isn't finished, but I'll update as I figure it out! Now on to the story!

---

Beauty had been living in the Beast’s castle for about a month when she began to realize she was enjoying it.

Her heart thundering in her ears she sprinted down the hall, bare feet slapping against the cracked and tarnished marble, the gallery illuminated in stark squares of black and white by the pale moonlight slanting in through the tall, dusty windows that lined one side. Behind her she heard nothing but his breathing, his paws silent as a ghost. If she could hear his breath he was close, too close. She needed to buy herself some space if she was going to make it up the stairs. But she was learning the layout of the castle well by now.

She swerved abruptly, diving through a shadowed door into a sitting room. She slammed the door behind her, knowing it wouldn’t slow him long, but maybe long enough. She leapt over a collapsed and moldering settee and rushed to the far wall beside the cold and cobwebbed fireplace, feeling along the aged wooden paneling with shaking hands.

“Where is it,” she hissed through her teeth, panic beginning to rise the longer she could not hear the Beast on the other side of the door. If he was not breaking it down, or simply opening it, she didn’t know what he was doing, and that was dangerous.

Suddenly, a candle flame jumped to life beside her and she flinched, already braced to throw herself out the window, the closest avenue of escape. But it was not the Beast. It was a plain white candle in a simple golden candle holder, hanging in the air as though being held. If she caught them at the right angle, Beauty could sometimes almost see the faint image of a pair of white gloved hands holding it, the most she’d ever seen of the ghostly servants that tended this place.

The candle moved closer to the wall, illuminating the faded scroll work along the chair rail. A spectral hand faintly gestured to a hidden switch among the carved roses. Beauty nodded in terse gratitude as she pressed the button and slipped silently into the narrow servant’s passage behind it. Even if the Beast knew of this passage (which he almost certainly did) he would not be able to fit in it to follow her, and it had several different exits, so he could not simply circle around to wait for her at the other end. Not unless he already knew her so well he could guess which exit she’d choose.

The foyer exit was the obvious choice, being the closest to the grand staircase. She obviously could not use that one. The exit to the kitchen was unexpected, but so far from where she was trying to go that it’s advantages were more or less nil. He would likely assume she’d head for the great room, which was reasonably close to the staircase but still less obvious than the other choices. That is, if he didn’t know that she knew that if she followed the passage to the west gallery it was only a quick sprint across the hall to the drawing room with the attached butler’s pantry, where behind the moldering linens the back of the cupboard swung open to reveal a small staircase which led to the second floor hallway with the guest bedrooms.

She climbed the narrow stair as quickly and quietly as possible, pulling up her dress to cover her mouth and nose to protect them from the thick dust and cobwebs that filled the dark, cramped space. At one point a rotted wooden step gave way under her foot, but she caught herself in time.

She emerged slowly through the hidden door at the top of the stair, scanning the dark hall for signs of the Beast. The moonlight through the windows pooled silver on the moth eaten rug that ran down the center of the hall, but did not illuminate the dark doorways of the bedrooms. But Beauty could only go forward, slipping silently out into the hallway.

Her room, the room the invisible servants had shown her to the day she first came here, was at the end of the hall. The hall was too dark, but if it had been daylight she would have been close enough to see her door. She felt, to her surprise, a strange kind of disappointment.

Then she felt the hair on the back of her neck lift-- There was no sound, there never was, he was always perfectly silent, but she felt his presence suddenly behind her regardless. She lunged forward without a moment’s hesitation, flying into a sprint like a race horse leaping off the starting line. She heard the thudding impact of his body landing on the floor where she’d just been, the weight of the body that would have driven her to the ground and trapped her there as his teeth closed around her neck.

But the miss didn’t slow him down. He was an inch behind her, close enough for her to not just hear but feel the heat of his breath. Her door could not have been more than nine yards away, but it felt like it stretched on forever, time slowing as fear pulsed through her like electricity, lightning running down her veins. She’d been running since sun down, and her muscles were screaming, air burning in her lungs. Panic gripped her heart, certain this time was going to be it, he had her, she’d been too slow, too predictable. In a moment his teeth would be in her and she was going to die.

There was her door, looming out of the shadows, just a foot away, then an inch. She slammed into it with her shoulder and closed her eyes, certain it was too late. She felt a rush of air, claws a centimeter from her face, a brief flare of pain in her back--

And then she was tumbling, rolling to a sprawling stop on the floor of her room.

For a long second she just lay there, face against the aged wood floor, still expecting death to catch up with her. She was shivering with exhaustion and soaked in fear sweat and she could feel stinging, shallow lines of pain on her back in the shape of the Beast’s claws, but she was alive. Slowly, she raised her head to look at the door, which stood open not a foot away from where she lay.

The Beast stood just outside it, huge leonine head lowered, golden eyes watching her with a predator’s intensity. He was the size of a draft horse, body somewhere between the ursine and the feline. She’d seen him walk upright when it suited him, but he clearly didn’t prefer it. Long, wickedly sharp horns curled from his brow. It was easy to see why they called him a Beast. Though, at the same time, the flat, nearly human shape of his face, the way his elongated forepaws were almost hands, made it impossible to dismiss him as entirely animal. The effect was unsettling, to say the least.

He watched her, but made no move to cross the threshold into her room. He never did. She always braced herself, expecting each time to be the time he broke this rule, but he still hadn’t done it yet. He simply stood there and watched her.

Finally, relief flooded through her and she fell limp onto the floor again, laughing wildly. She was going to live. For one more night at least, she was going to live.

“Not tonight, Beast,” she said to him with a sharp, vicious smile. “You’ll just have to try again tomorrow.”

He didn’t respond, he never did, just stared a moment longer, then slowly turned and padded away down the hall, vanishing into the shadows. Beauty just lay back on the floor and laughed, the ecstasy of victory, the thrill of escape, rushing through her in waves. Her skin tingled, hyper sensitive under the sheen of cooling sweat, her senses still on high alert, feeling more alive and awake than she had in all the years before she’d come here. A shaking hand slid down her thigh, pulling up her rumpled skirts to slide beneath them, and her ragged breath hitched in her throat. She considered, for a moment, closing the door, and then decided against it. Let him watch, if he wanted.

#my writing #original writing #monster romance #male monster #beauty and the beast #primal play

[safetycar-restart]

poly!screaming meals and nudes are made for each other!!

there probably is a constant stream of pictures from the US to Britain as a way to make everybody feel like they are a part of this

You are SO right about this. I actually almost wrote them for the fic for today but then I saw this ask and I swopped the fic to motogp so that I could do those thoughts here. So lets do this!!

So firstly, the long distance is extremely difficult, especially for Marcus because clem and James are both in the UK mostly. I've said this before and I'll say it again: I think you'd either have to have a job where you travel a lot or have a work from home job where you travel anyway.

Because Marcus really wouldn't be able to handle it if he rarely ever got to see any of his partners during the indycar season.

He loves indycar, of course he does, but it gets so hard when his dom and his two fellow subs are on the other side of the world.

I actually think sending nudes would be started by clem? You can all tell that Marcus is upset. You could tell from his messages that something was clearly wrong, but he was avoiding all questions about it.

James says he thinks Marcus is feeling left out and disconnected, and so the next you three are having sex, clem pulls away and tells you to take some pics of him. You do, because you're never gonna turn down an opportunity for clem's nudes and then he sends them to Marcus.

Well actually he sends them on the group chat with no context or explanation.

Marcus opens his messages during a break doing PR activities for his team and then boom he's staring at clem's dick. Which was obviously a bit of a surprise, making him choke on his drink and quickly closing the group chat.

He asks about it that night, and clem says he wanted to make Marcus feel included. Marcus actually feels oddly touched? And when he says he might use those pics for inspiration, James pipes up and says he wants to see pictures if Marcus does.

And then Marcus really starts to have some fun? He's got two of his partners egging him on and asking for pictures and even though they aren't physically with him, it feels like they are.

He @s you then, asking you if he can have some instructions from his dom. Marcus THRIVES off of following orders and being made to work hard, he adores it and it makes him feel so so good.

You see his request and respond immediately, more than happy to send one of your good boys some instructions. You decide to make them complicated, including edging and fucking himself with a dildo and asking for pictures at certain steps.

Naturally the moment you send them, you have James sprinting from across the house to find you because if you just sent Marcus instructions, then maybe you'd be interested in some fun.

(Clem is at some team meeting and he is not happy at all to know Marcus is getting instructions and James is getting fucked and he is stuck going over tire deg stats)

After that incident, you make a separate group chat just for NSFW things and sometimes you guys use that more than the usual group chat.

#kinktober tag #poly!screaming meals #sub!clement #sub!marcus #ma #cn #nsfw. #gn!reader

[f1]

Perez just needs to win on a proper circuit now Horner | 2023 Azerbaijan Grand Prix

Sergio Perez needs to replicate his form on street circuits at permanent venues, Red Bull team principal Christian Horner said following his driver’s win yesterday. Since joining Red Bull in 2021, all Perez’s wins have come on ‘street’ circuits, including the Jeddah track which is laid out on purpose-built roads. His only victory on a permanent racing circuit came in 2020 at the Bahrain International Circuit, when he was driving for Racing Point. “Checo is definitely living up to his nickname of King of the Streets or whatever his latest docuseries is going to be called,” joked Horner after yesterday’s race. “An incredible weekend by him.” Perez won Saturday’s sprint race in Baku before leading home team mate Max Verstappen in the main event on Sunday. “Winning the sprint race yesterday, obviously he got a little bit lucky with the timing of the Safety Car [in the grand prix],” said Horner. “But having got the lead he built close to a four-second lead at one point and controlled the race. “So he used his opportunity, converted it into a great win. They were pushing each other hard, they were comparing times that they touched the wall the under the podium there. But we let them push all the way through, that was always the plan going into the race.” With his second grand prix win of the season, Perez now lies six points behind championship leader Verstappen. Of the 19 races remaining, only four will take place on street tracks. Perez therefore needs to show he can win on permanent courses in order to challenge for the championship, said Horner. Advert | Become a RaceFans supporter and go ad-free “He just needs to do it on a normal track. He’s excelled at street circuits – all his victories, certainly for us, have been at street tracks. It’s the second time he’s won here, he won in Singapore, he won in Monaco, won in Jeddah, so just need to get going on the proper circuits.” Although Perez took the lead through the mid-race Safety Car period, he had closed on Verstappen prior to that and showed he had strong pace afterwards. “As you can see on the race [chart], there’s virtually very little between them,” said Horner. “Probably up to about lap 28, Checo then pulls out a bit of a gap and then Max starts close it down over the last five laps.” Horner said the pair were allowed to race each other but were reminded of the costly crash which eliminated Verstappen and former Red Bull team mate Daniel Ricciardo during the grand prix five years ago. “I think 2018 is clearly etched on everybody’s memory in this team,” said Horner. “It was something we discussed this morning and in the briefing. “They’re free to race but we don’t want a 2018 replay. They pushed each other as hard as they could and it was a fine margin today that split the two of them.” Bringing the F1 news from the source RaceFans strives to bring its readers news directly from the key players in Formula 1. We are able to do this thanks in part to the generous backing of our RaceFans Supporters. By contributing £1 per month or £12 per year (or the equivalent in other currencies) you can help cover the costs involved in producing original journalism: Travelling, writing, creating, hosting, contacting and developing. We have been proudly supported by our readers for over 10 years. If you enjoy our independent coverage, please consider becoming a RaceFans Supporter today. As a bonus, all our Supporters can also browse the site ad-free. Sign up or find out more via the links below: Advert | Become a RaceFans supporter and go ad-free 2023 Azerbaijan Grand Prix Browse all 2023 Azerbaijan Grand Prix articles via RaceFans - Independent Motorsport Coverage https://www.racefans.net/

#F1 #Perez just needs to win on a “proper circuit” now – Horner | 2023 Azerbaijan Grand Prix #Formula 1

[cattypatties]

My Wish

“A unicorn that can grant wishes if you touch it? How original.”

——————

He remembered saying that a while ago, around 2 years ago actually. Of course, at the time he didn’t think much of it, I mean…why would he?

It was just a stupid comment about one of the many scripts that had been assigned to the rabbit for an episode of the “New Looney Tunes Show” not to be confused with “Looney Tunes Cartoons” or even “The Looney Tunes Show”, obviously.

And of course since they were all toons, that unicorn? Was real, much like any of them were. Not like humans per say with the actual physics, but it could theoretically exist outside of some computer software.

The magic included.

Now, typically these types of things never interested Daffy. I mean since 1937 the Duck had found himself just doing what he was required to do, even trying to go further beyond to prove his worth, which of course never worked out in his favor anyway. Still, the point being, Daffy never found a reason to be bothered with anything else.

All he really focused on was his job and this isn’t to say he never batted an eye at anything else in life on the ServerVerse, of course not! He had been on plenty of adventures in his life and had a plethora of companions.

It was just…a bit hard when everyone seemed to always overshadow you.

And they didn’t mean it, they only wanted the best for you.

But that's another story for another time, instead let’s backtrack.

“A unicorn that can grant wishes if you touch it? How original.”

And why in particular was this so special? Why on earth would Daffy care for this one off character in a show that ended a while ago?

Well…

Let’s just say it was because of what had happened a few months ago.

————————

But before we get into all of that, let’s focus on fundamentals.

…

That sounds awfully familiar right?

Well either way, in order to understand the story ahead, we need to understand the individual.

The hero.

Bugs Bunny, though he had many titles.

Leader, Star, Mascot, and many more, though we don’t have all the time in the world for that.

And he was well known by all means, practically the face of the company itself besides that big shield.

Humble, slightly cocky with a Brooklyn accent and an iconic catchphrase and wit to present itself against any foe and come out on top?

Yeah, no wonder everyone loved him.

He was perfect.

His eyes especially, a golden honey color that reminded you of an angel’s halo, with his soft grey and white fur that was absolutely radiant in the warm sunshine. His cute little red nose that twitched. Sometimes when he was curious he’d glance around like a child and let out his adorable laugh that sounded like a sweet symphony and ended with a smile that could light up the entire room.

Needless to say, when Daffy fell in love with him for the first time, he fell hard.

————

So..

Why the unicorn?

Well..the answer to that…is rather complicated, but I’ll tell you anyway.

———————

A choice.

That’s why he needed the unicorn.

Because it had been a choice that his damn rabbit made that ended the game.

A glitch.

Sometimes the Duck wished he had never spoken, but lo and behold, he had never realized what an impact his words had until that fateful day.

“In and out”

He hated it.

How simple the plan was anyway, and he supposed it should’ve been clear as day with the expressions Bugs was making, but foolish Daffy simply thought he had been worried for Lebron’s sake.

“Crossover, Stepback..”

He remembered how everyone immediately reacted, their breaths being caught in their throats, Lola running towards him to try and stop him.

“Shoot.”

What else was there to say?

When he glitched out, the game continued, and they won.

They won and then he glitched out and disappeared from Lola’s arms.

——————

So that led back to now.

Daffy walked around in the forest, his eyes watering, with each and every step he took a flash of Bugs doing the accursed step back glitch.

The sunshine peeked through the treetops above, as a gentle breeze brushed past the duck.

Daffy having been restless since Bugs..glitched out. So, he had been wandering.

All over TuneWorld in hopes of finding that unicorn, everyone already having accepted the rabbit to be long gone. Some tried to stop the duck because they knew it would only be more painful when he failed.

But even then, the duck shut them out completely, fully refusing to accept it.

Because it had left him restless.

The first night, Daffy thought it was just a bad dream.

Around the tenth night Daffy had not slept in a while by then.

And by now? The duck had decided to take action.

So yeah, he was hoping to find that unicorn, just one wish.

That’s all he wanted.

He just wanted one wish, one damn wish that made his heart flutter, that made his life better.

One wish that he took for granted in the past, but would never again.

Until suddenly it had turned night as Daffy’s heart sank.

How long had he been searching hopelessly for a miracle?

He glanced down to see his webbed feet covered in dirt and leaves as he sighed, before walking over to a nearby pond and seeing his reflection, his feathers all messy and his eyes clearly missing out on sleep. He frowned before seeing his hands also slightly bruised as he felt the tears from his eyes finally fall, down into the water below his reflection turning into that of ripples as he fell to his knees and cried softly, the duck moving to sit down normally as he pulled his knees to his chest and buried his head into them.

It was stupid.

So stupid how he thought, that he, Daffy Duck, could find that unicorn.

He felt absolutely idiotic, and he had been at this, for weeks.

But she wasn’t anywhere to be found.

And he wouldn’t get that wish.

No matter how badly he wanted it.

——————-

He didn’t know when he drifted off, he didn’t exactly care either.

When he had awoken, he noticed of course he was still near that pond, as he glanced around to see it was really dark out.

Daffy shifted as he slowly moved to stand, before glancing around the dark forest, small parts lit up by the moonlight, until suddenly he saw it.

An outline of which looked to be the unicorn. The duck’s eyes widening as adrenaline filled him and he immediately ran towards her.

His heart rate picked up, as he sprinted, lungs burning and legs aching, but he didn’t care.

Her figure started to dash off, as a surge of newfound determination coursed through him. Picking up his speed, he jumped over fallen trees, and ducked underneath branches, as he kept going, pushing himself to go even faster.

‘Come on’

He thought his vision started to blur from the tears forming in his eyes again, his chest tightening even more.

‘Please’

His mind begged, his voice caught in his throat.

The duck got closer and closer, until suddenly…

He tripped, just outside of the forest into a large field, the unicorn galloping away, until out of sight into the darkness.

Daffy hit the ground hard when it happened, bruising his bill as he quickly pushed himself up before seeing she was gone as he felt everything collapse onto him as he yelled out in anguish and clenched his hands into fists, pounding them onto the ground.

Again, again, and again.

Over and over.

Until he couldn’t feel his hands anymore as he broke into heavy sobs

He missed him

He missed his one chance at getting him back.

And there was nothing he could do.

The duck feeling his heart break into a million pieces all over, the small ounce of hope he felt shattered.

And he didn’t care anymore.

Not about anything.

He just wanted to see him one more time, and because of his stupid luck he wouldn’t.

He wouldn’t ever see Bugs again.

And that broke him.

Eventually however, his sobs did die down. His breathing slowed and his throat was hoarse. The toon wiping his eyes as he sighed shakily.

Until suddenly as he leaned back he felt something against him as he turned to see the unicorn, and he stumbled backwards.

“B-but how- I thought- you just-“

He stammered looking between her and where he thought she went, his brain wracking for an answer until finally he fell back onto the grass groaning

“Ugh, of course the universe wants to pull this crap with me.”

He grumbled, as he huffed.

The unicorn smiled as she leaned down and nuzzled against his face and he smiled weakly petting her face, as he sighed.

“Alright, enough of this..emotional turmoil.”

He said quietly before he stood up and kept his hands on her face as he looked to her

“Ok..um, hi.. uh..”

He stumbled over his words now feeling a new anxiety rise in him

“Just..I-I wish..for..”

He closed his eyes taking a deep breath trying to steady himself, as he shook slightly, his heart racing as he felt his face flush.

“I wish..for Bugs Bunny to be alive.”

He said quietly squeezing his eyes shut and waiting

His nerves flying through the roof, until suddenly he opened his eyes and she was gone as he looked around desperately, to see nothing as he felt fear slowly taking him over

“No, no, no, no, please—“

He whispered, voice shaking, until suddenly…

“Eh, what’s up Duck?”

Daffy pausing his panic, as he felt his face warm up, and his eyes water and he turned to see the the rabbit right behind him, with the same smile, and the same relaxed expression and most of all the same beautiful eyes as Daffy felt himself grin as he lunged at him and the two fell the ground laughing as Daffy pulled him close Bugs patting him on the back as they embraced.

“You’re back!” He cried, tears streaming down his face as he continued laughing in utter joy and disbelief

“Y-you're really here!”

Bugs smiling more as his nose twitched

“Aw shucks Daff, if I had known you’d be this sappy, I wouldn’t have left.”

He teased slightly, as the duck’s face flushed more and he pulled back half glaring at him as he lightly punched the rabbit’s arm

“Oh shut up already, would you? This is your fault smartass!” He said chuckling

Bugs smiled gently at him as he rolled his eyes before moving to wipe away Daffy’s tears.

Daffy leaned into the touch, smiling stupidly as the rabbit smoothed down his feathers and got rid of most of the dirt on him.

Eventually the duo standing as Daffy sighed in relief

“God you have no idea how much I missed you, we got to go tell the others!” He said quickly perking up as he grabbed the rabbit’s hand as the two sped off.

——————

The reunion amongst the toons being that of the most sappy heartfelt thing ever as everyone practically tackled Bugs, much like Daffy had.

And as the group eventually got back into the swing of things, a month had passed and everything seemed to go back to normal. Although Daffy wasn’t exactly getting sleep still.

Nightmares having never stopped plaguing him, as the duck one day found himself sitting down on a stone wall, outlooking the same field where he had wished Bugs back.

He sat criss cross on top, resting his elbows in his lap as he had his head in his hands, and the sunlight shined upon the grass below, a soft breeze gently blowing the blades of grass.

A beautiful blue sky up above as the tired duck looked out upon it.

Until suddenly his eyes were covered by soft silky gloves as he smiled a bit, chuckling

“Oh gee, I wonder who this is?”

He asked sarcastically as he heard the sweet sound of Bugs' laugh escape the rabbit’s mouth.

“How’d you guess already?”

He asked, removing his hands as he sat down next to Daffy smiling like an idiot.

Daffy glancing over as he shrugged with a slight smirk

“Call me crazy, but..I’m thinking it’s because you’re the only one childish enough to do that.”

He said, Bugs in response laughing again as he leaned his head on the duck’s shoulder looking up at him

“Actually doc, I tink I prefer to call you Daffy.”

Daffy, feeling his face flush from the contact as his heart raced and he groaned a bit, rolling his eyes.

“What a comedian you are.” He said softly

The duck then turned back to the field before he felt his hand being taken by the rabbits and intertwined with his. As he glanced back over face turning redder as he raised a brow.

“W-whatcha doing there pal?”

He asked nervously.

The grey bunny looked back at the duck, seemingly having been focused on the field too.

“Whatever do you mean?” He asked, with a slight shit eating grin on his face as Daffy felt his face burn even brighter

“Oh you smug son of a—“

Bugs only grinning more as he sat up now, and moved his free hand to place one finger on the duck’s bill effectively silencing him as he chuckled.

“Eh, sorry Mac, but I only let you get away with it the foirst time because it was after hours, we have to keep it PG for the kids.”

Daffy glaring silently at him before removing his hand with his free one and huffing

“Yeah yeah, I know bucktooth.”

He said before eventually looking down to see Bugs having also intertwined their other hands, now both sets intertwined together as Daffy went back to being a blushing mess.

“J-just what the heck do you think you’re doing?!” He harshly said, though his burning face gave him away as Bugs only smirked.

“Just having some fun duck, don’t mind me”

He said watching the shorter toon turn even redder as he snickered slightly.

Daffy feeling his heart dance and do backflips as he sighed enjoying the feeling of having Bugs hands in his own, as he smiled softly, his feathers puffing a bit, before remembering the golden eyes on him as he hastily let go and backed up face on fire.

All the while Bugs only watched him lovingly.

Eventually however, Daffy felt his chest tighten as he thought about the rabbit before him, how carefree he was..and while it was nice having him back…Daffy knew that while not likely, there was a small chance of Bugs disappearing on him again, as he slowly found the courage to look at him and moved closer.

“Uh..hey Bugsth?”

The rabbit’s ear flicking as he looked to him as his smile faded a bit

“Yeah?”

“Um.. I uh.. well..for the longest time I—“

“Daffy.”

“Y-yeah?”

“You’re trying to confess right?”

“W-what?! N-no!”

“Yeah, you are.”

“No I’m not!”

“Yeah.”

“No!”

“Yeah”

“NO!”

“No.”

“YEAH!”

“No.”

“YES I AM YOU SCREWY RABBIT! I HAVE BEEN IN LOVE WITH YOU SINCE YOU FIRST KISSED ME ON THE FOREHEAD IN THAT ONE EPISODE WE DID AND- I-I-“

Daffy pausing now standing upright as his eyes widened and he looked to Bugs, who now went back to the same relaxed, smug expression on his face as the duck gawked at him

“Y-you- j-just-“

“Uh huh.”

“I-I-“

“Yep.”

Daffy glaring before his face burned a thousand times brighter and he put his face into his hands groaning loudly as Bugs only laughed

“YOU ARE SO- ARGH!”

He yelled out as he marched up to the rabbit pressing a finger into his chest as Bugs only smirked at him, raising a brow

“I’m so what? Handsome?”

He teased again as Daffy only yelled out louder at him as Bugs smiled before pulling him into a kiss as the duck paused and felt his legs wobble beneath him before melting into the kiss blushing brighter as the two stayed like that before eventually pulling back as Bugs gently pet Daffy’s cheeks with his thumbs.

“You’re despicable.”

He growled but with a slight lightheartedness to it, Bugs only shrugging as he said

“Eh, it ‘‘twas your wish doc.”

#baffy #bugs x daffy #bugs bunny #daffy duck #looney tunes #bugs and daffy #my fic #space jam new legacy

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

Can I request a Thomas (tmr) x f!reader soulmate au maybe where he comes up to the glade after she’s been there for a while with her name on his wrist. And that brings back her memories of him? Thank you!!

Of course, sweet Anon! 😊 I don't usually like AU, but I actually do like the soulmate trope lol. Also, this took too long, I know. I've been so unmotivated and I have no idea why and I still have like 4 more imagines to do hahahahahaaa......ugh

Aaaanyway...*cough cough* this is...what it is. I have this disease, called "backstoryinitis" where I add too much backstory to an imagine, so, uh, sorry?

~~~~~~~~~~

Wiping a bead of sweat off your brow, you stopped hoeing the ground when you heard the loud alarm that rang every month.

Another month, another Greenie...

You'd lived in the Glade for a couple years now, so you were used to new kids coming up in what everyone called the Box every month. It's really the only way you could keep track of how long you were stuck in this place.

Every month, you wondered if there was going to be someone like you sent up; a female. Being the only girl in a group of dozens of boys, it got lonely. Of course you had friends, but it just wasn't the same to you. And what was even weirder, you had a tattoo on your wrist, a name.

At first, when you came up in the Box without your memories, you actually thought it was your name, until you remembered your actual name.

Looking at your wrist every day and night, you tried to comb your brain for any sliver of memory that could answer your hundreds of questions that you had. Why was this name on your wrist, and who was this person? You hoped you'd find out, one day.

You ran alongside your friend to the Box, Chuck. Well, more like closest person you considered a younger brother. He very well could've been for all you knew, but he was just one of over fifty other boys that could've been a relative. But you always called Chuck "baby brother," not that he enjoyed that nickname, in public at least. He did get teased a bit by the other guys if you called him that within earshot, so you eased up on the name a bit. But you couldn't help that protective sister side of you when you thought Chuck was getting too close to the Box when it still hadn't come up all the way.

You looked around at all the excited faces of the other boys, anxious to see the new Greenie, anxious to hassle him more like.

You always tried to be nice to Greenies, remembering how poorly you were treated when you arrived in the Glade a couple years ago. No one would really take you seriously because you were a girl. You didn't even get a job assigned to you until a few months later, of course besides the stereotypical doing the laundry and helping Frypan in the kitchen, until you almost burned down the whole shack. Turns out, you were a terrible cook. Fry still teases you about it from time to time.

Eventually, you gained everyone's trust, even Gally's, that kid definitely took some convincing though. You thought he hated you if you were being honest, but in time, you saw through your anger and understood why. Some mysterious girl just shows up with a name tattooed on her wrist when nobody else did? It probably would've freaked you out too. Thankfully, everyone stopped asking you about it when you didn't even know yourself.

You winced softly when a dull pain shot up your hand, the ink in your wrist started to itch. Huh, it's never itched before? You tried to think nothing of it when the Box finally came up all the way, Gally reaching down and opening up the hatch doors.

Everyone peered over the sides of the heavy metal doors, trying to get a good look at the new Greenie. Of course, it was another male, cowering in the corner in terror like so many other boy you've seen. An odd feeling washing over you, like nostalgia but mixed with an almost sense of overwhelming joy. The feeling was so all consuming that you didn't even notice the new Greenie taking off in a dead sprint until all your fellow Gladers started to whoop and holler, obviously finding the Greenie's fear amusing, the boy faceplanting only adding to their boisterous laughter.

You rolled your eyes, mumbling to yourself, "The dude's just scared."

Of course, the Greenie being terrified out of his mind didn't stop the Keepers from deciding to keep him in the pit until he calmed down, a sentiment you did not share. Newt chuckled, gaining your attention quickly. "What're you laughing at?" You asked.

"Nothing, just adorable how you feel for the Greenies."

"Oh, shuck you."

"Why so defensive?"

"I am not." You pouted, crossing your arms. "It's not like he's the only one that's totally freaked out on the first day. He shouldn't be locked up in the pit."

"That is true, but you know it's for everyone's safety, including his." He said, walking away.

"Yeah, yeah..." You sighed, uncrossing your arms and choosing to lean against the hoe that you were holding, eyes completely focused on Alby and the new Greenie. To say you were curious would've been an understatement.

It was strange, you usually didn't have such a peaked interest in Greenies like this before. You felt yourself drawn to him, for some unknown reason. And another thing that was strange, your wrist tattoo had been tingling ever since he came up in the Box, but you just wrote that up as a coincidence. There was no way it could be correlated...right?

"Y/n!"

You turned to Alby, quickly making his way to you with almost angry expression on his face. "What's wrong?"

"Do you know the Greenie?" He asked, his expression not changing.

You furrowed your brows, a nervous chuckle escaping your lips. "Of course not, why would I?"

"Your name is on his wrist."

You froze, your confusion clearly etched on your face. "W-What?"

"You really don't know him? If your name is on his wrist, then I think it's pretty safe to assume that the name on your wrist is his."

"No, that's...impossible. I..." You were at a loss for words, how could this be happening? All this time, you just thought, maybe you had a partner before your memories got wiped and got their name tattooed; but now, you had no idea the hell was going on.

"The Greenie also claimed he didn't know where the tattoo came from, or who the name belonged to."

"You didn't tell him...about me?"

"No, not yet. I wanna keep this under wraps until we figure out what the shuck is happening here."

"But Alby, everyone knows about my tattoo, if someone sees his-"

"He's wearing a long sleeve. If he knows what's good for him he'll listen to me when I told him to cover it." Alby sighs, hardening his expression once more. "I swear, Y/n, if you know something about this-"

"I don't." You assured, you were just as confused as he was.

"The bonfire tonight will be a good opportunity to talk to the Greenie, everyone'll be too drunk to notice."

"Alby, you still trust me, right?"

"That remains to be seen."

The anxiety that you felt the rest of the day finally bubbled to the surface when the bonfire party started. You pretty much avoided the Greenie all day. You didn't know if you had any reason to be scared, but so many fears plagued your mind. So many "what ifs." But were sure nothing would be worse than having to wait to find out.

Looking over to see the Greenie and Newt sitting together away from the bonfire, Alby gave you a look, stern but not stern enough for you to feel threatened, although you still felt nervous.

Slowly walking over to the Greenie, you kept telling yourself over and over that this is the moment you've been waiting for ever since you were sent to the Glade, the moment you found out if this boy was the one who's name was permanently engraved onto your skin. You could finally have some sort of closure, maybe not complete, but just knowing would be enough.

You nervously cleared your throat, both boys looking your way as you stood above them. "Hey, Newt." You quickly started, "thought I'd introduce myself to the Greenie." You gave Newt a look that told him to leave the two of you alone.

Newt chuckled. "Right, of course. I think I'm gonna get myself another drink." And off he went, leaving you and the Greenie in an awkward silence, but more of an anxious silence on your part.

"Sorry I haven't introduced myself yet, been a busy day." You forced a smile, taking a seat next to the Greenie.

"Do you guys throw parties like this every time a new...Greenie shows up?" The boy asked, a slight bitter tone to his voice.

"Yeah, pretty much. We only really started this tradition a year ago, we thought we might as well celebrate another month of surviving here, also welcoming the newbies."

"Yeah, well, doesn't really feel like a warm welcome, despite the bonfire." You chuckled. "Are you...? Uh, never mind."

"No, what?"

"Well, just looking around, you seem to be the only girl here. Why is that?"

You shrugged. "Beats me. I came here just like everybody else, no memories. I wish I knew. Speaking of, have you remembered your name yet?"

The Greenie frowned. "No." He whispered, suddenly rubbing his sleeve covered wrist.

"What's wrong?" You asked, noticing his discomfort.

He sighed. "Uh, nothing. My wrist just hurts a little, might've sprained it or somethin'."

This was taking too long, and the bonfire party was starting to die down. It would be over soon, you had to speed this up.

"Alby told me..." You started, nervously taking a deep breath before continuing, "about your wrist."

The Greenie looked to you with wide eyes. "He told me to keep quiet about it, why would he tell you?"

"Because...the name on your wrist is mine."

He furrowed his brows, his mouth slightly agape, rolling up his sleeve slightly, just enough to see the top of the outline of your name. "Wait, really? How is that...?"

"I don't know. But I'm guessing," You rolled up your own sleeve, "this is your name?"

You held up your wrist, the light from the bonfire illuminating the ink enough for the Greenie to read what it said, "Thomas." Thomas' confused face mirrored your own, both of you feeling a strange mix of emotions all at once. He reached out, you flinching away slightly. "Can I?" He asked.

You nodded curtly, extending out your wrist for him to hold.

As soon as his skin made contact with yours, you felt a spark of electricity rush through your whole body, so intense that it made you jolt with a quiet gasp. Thomas seemed to have felt the same, his grip on your wrist tightening as he felt the same rush.

You suddenly felt like you were hit in the head with a brick, sharp flashes of images of you, but not in the Glade. These were different, you saw yourself smiling, laughing, with an older woman, smile lines and subtle wrinkles around her eyes, tuffs of greyish white hair scattered about in random spots amongst her lush natural colored hair. You instantly teared up...this was your mother...you remembered your mother.

"I remember." You and Thomas said at the exact same time.

"My name is Thomas." He confirmed, tears welling up in his golden brown eyes, giving them a shine. "I remember everything, my family, my friends, why I came here..."

"I remember my life before here too. I was...taken. They took me away from my mama." You quickly felt a surge of anger rush through you. "W.C.K.D. They did this."

Thomas sighed. "I know..." He took hold of both your hands. "I remember you too, Y/n." A slight rosy blush spreading across his cheeks.

"Me too." You said softly.

You both had worked at W.C.K.D. together, you both had the same distain for the company and wanting to take them down together, both of you being betrayed and sent here. You knew it was dangerous for W.C.K.D. to send you both to the same Maze trial, how could they make such a stupid mistake.

"We have to get everyone out of here, Thomas."

"We will."

"Together."

~~~~~~~~~~

Well, that escalated quickly. Hope you enjoyed it regardless, Anon😊

#the maze runner #tmr thomas #thomas x reader

[harrysgloves]

In the Middle

Harry Styles x Reader x Florence Pugh

Story Summary: Florence and Harry are smitten with their makeup artist on set. 

Word Count: 10k (dear god I got carried away. I’m so sorry)

Warnings: Language // Threesome // MFF // Oral Sex (Female Receiving) // Unprotected Sex // Spanking (I couldn’t not include this) // Dirty Talk // W | W (obviously) // Mentions of religion (it’s more a metaphor.. not sure how to explain that?) // 

Authors Note: Woooo boy, she’s finally done. Been working on this baby for a while so please comment. I’d love to hear your feedback! Also, the reader has an adopted last name in this... Not sure if that bothers anyone or not but if it does please tell me and I won’t do that in future fics.

>>><<<

It was your first day on this movie set and honestly, you were scared shitless. This movie was so star-studded you were almost positive that you'd say something stupid to at least one of them. That'd be just your luck, your first job as lead makeup artist and you'd let some gibberish crap fall out your mouth. 

You took a deep breath, standing in front of the door to your trailer. Your trailer. It was so surreal, you were finally getting your lead moment, and all you could think about was 'I better not mess this up and get black listed.'

"Gonna open the door or are ya goin' to do makeup out 'ere?" The voice from behind you caught you off guard. You wished you wouldn't have let out the shriek when you jumped around to see the beautiful specimen of a man standing in front of you.

Of fucking course it had to be one of the main actors.

Your face heated. Your cheeks burned hotter than the sun when you heard him chuckle from his spot. His hands shoved deep in his pockets as he looked at you like you were the most amusing thing he'd seen in a while.

"Don't scare the poor girl." His co-star said as she walked up from behind him. Her hand slapped against his chest as she walked past him and towards you. His grin never faltered as you stood there completely starstruck and trying your best to not be a blubbering idiot.

"Here, lemme help." She said as she held out her hand. A sweet smile forming on her lips when you handed her the keys.

"Always make me out to be a dick, love." Harry mumbled to Florence when she finally found the right key to your trailer door. 

"Easy to make you out to be a dick when you are one." She said with a shrug. He rolled his eyes but you could tell it was all in good fun. "If he messes with you, jus' tell me. I'll take care of him."

"Think she's gonna 'ave to talk to us 'fore she goes tellin' on me." He smiled widely as he teased you. Whatever shred of your usually vibrant personality had been completely washed away by nerves. You couldn't believe you were standing in either of their presence.

If only your 13 year old self could see you now. Even she would be telling you that you're a fucking idiot.

"We don't bite." Florence said as she pulled you inside your trailer. Your head nodded because honestly it was the only way to guarantee that you wouldn't say something stupid.

"Unless yeh want us to." Harry teased. Florence immediately shot him a look you'd never want to see directed at you.

"I'm good." You squeaked out. Your bag being quickly thrown on your table before you turned on all the lights to the place.

It was simple but it was completely yours. You were finally the head honcho, the boss, the shot caller. It was all up to you- how the makeup looked, how the prosthetic were applied. It was something you were pretty sure would never happen to you but knowing Olivia Wilde definitely had it's privileges.

You'd never imagined working on The Lazarus Effect would lead to almost a five year friendship with so many great opportunities. Plus, she didn’t judge you for your train-wreck of nerves you had your first day of work.

"So yeh know us. Wot's yeh name?" Harry asked you after mindless banter with Florence. Her head filled with curlers turned to look at you standing over Harry. The foundation you were dabbing on his face smeared slightly as your nerves picked back up. 

You were never good at the talking part of the job. Not until you warmed up to people a bit. You were definitely more reserved of the makeup artist in the industry. You stuck to yourself for the most part and only your closet friends knew how you really were and you really preferred not getting mixed up in any celebrity business.

"Um, Y/N." You said as you sat the makeup brush down on your table before moving to start taking the curlers out of Florence's silky blonde hair. The perfectly formed curls bounced out, your fingers ran through them to diffuse them a bit. 

"Been doing this long?" She asked as you busied yourself with hair. Trying your best to not pull or tug on it too hard and hurting her on accident.

"Not long." You said, the nerves you had dissipated a bit when you talked about something that you enjoyed doing. "Five years but I mostly did low budget horror films."

"Step up from that then, innit?" Harry asked, both their eyes burned into you. Your face immediately heated again at the attention.

"A bit." You said as you finally took the last roller out of Florence's hair. You were so close to being done and getting away from everybody long enough for your anxiety to let up. "First movie I get to be in charge of the makeup department."

"Explains the nerves." Florence hummed out as she sat up in the chair, fluffing her own hair a bit as she examined your work.

"Yeah, sorry about earlier. I get a little lost in the mornings without coffee." You paid close attention to them both smiling at you. Somehow feeling like you were missing a joke until they both spoke at the same time.

"You should do tea instead."

"Never going to happen. I need my coffee to function." You said pointedly, knowing deep in your heart that you would forever be a coffee lover. 

"No way." Florence scoffed but you didn't miss that hint of a smirk on her lips as she looked towards Harry.

"'Aven't had the right tea."

"I'm not abandoning my one true love like that." You said with your arms crossed over your chest.

"Boyfriend doesn't get mad that coffee is your one true love?" Florence asked while Harry nodded his head in agreement. 

You couldn't help the laugh that left your. A fit of giggles you didn't think you'd be letting out near them any time soon or ever. Your hand came up to tell them to give you a second to compose yourself. Their eyes moved back and forth between each other and you, confusion clearly etched into their expressions.

"You really think me, who couldn't even open the door this morning, is out hitting on people? Honestly, that's the best compliment I've ever gotten." You said as you turned back around to sit down the rest of the curlers in your hands. Random giggles still escaping from you as you shook your head in disbelief. 

"They could've came onto yeh." Harry said like he was trying to figure you out. Another burst of laughter came from you when you turned back around, hands on your hips as you looked at both the ungodly beautiful people in front of you.

"I'm not really the type that attracts attention but really this was a great confidence booster." You smiled at them, whatever words both of them were about to say was interrupted by the knock on the trailer door.

"Hey, you guys are needed on set." Some assistant said quickly before walking away from the trailer. 

"Guess we gotta go. We'll see you in a bit." Florence smiled brightly at you before turning and walking out the door with a cute bounce in her step.

"See yeh, love." Harry mumbled, his hand ran through his thick brown curls that you'd spent too much time styling for no reason. He followed her out the door. His long confidant strides quickly caught up with Florence. His arm around her shoulder talking to her as you shut the door.

Maybe working with them wouldn't be so bad. Maybe you'd even learn how to not be a total mess around famous people or maybe you could even make new friends. It was a nice thought you decided, they both seemed genuinely nice to you and you could always use new connections to get yourself out there a bit more.

>>>

It only took 4 hours and a shit ton of retouches on everyone's makeup to finally get to your break for the day. Your feet were sore, your whole body felt like it'd been beat up, and you still hadn't had any caffeine. If you didn't get any in you soon you'd be cast in the next remake of Godzilla.

You quickly jumped at the opportunity to run like the wind when it was announced it was lunch time. Your sprint towards freedom was stopped at the sound of your name being called out. You groaned quietly to yourself, cursing whatever god out there for hating you this much. 

All you wanted was a damn coffee, was that too much to ask for?! You didn't think so, but apparently, someone out in the universe had it out for you today. 

Fast footsteps sounded from behind you as you stood in your spot. Yes, you were making them come to you because fuck them for not realizing lunch time meant you didn't want to chitchat.

"Wanna grab lunch with us?" Her voice rang from behind you, making you feel like such an asshole for making her walk to you.

You turned around to see the group of people she wanted you to have lunch with. Which included everyone from the set. Not just her and Harry, everyone. 

Your eyes widened as you looked at all of them. There was no way you could fake it through lunch with all those people you didn't know looking at you. Expecting you to be able to answer simple questions about yourself. Being able to carry on a semi decent conversation. You were exhausted at the mere thought of trying to not seem like a total nutcase for an entire hour. 

"Thanks but I think I'm going to put on a pot of coffee in my trailer." You said as your eyes moved away from the crowd of people back to her. Her face couldn't hide emotions even in the slightest bit. Her eyebrows furrowed, lips rolled into her mouth, trying to not look disappointed but you could see the hint of it lingering behind her eyes.

"Sure. Have a good lunch." She said in a soft voice that made your heart feel like it was getting ripped out of your chest. 

You stood and watched long enough to see her shaking her head at Harry. His arm around her shoulder as he frowned down at her before looking up to you. A soft smile across his lips before he bent down to say something lowly in Florence's ear.

You turned on the spot and headed for your trailer. A sigh of relief left you the second the door closed. You were always the type that needed recharge time. You had to be alone for a bit here and there during the day so you could unwind. Wash all the anxiety from being around people off you.

You hit the playlist you had saved on your phone as your chill out music. The coffee pot in your trailer gurgled in the background over your music. The slow soft beats filled the air around you. Swirling beautiful with the scent of the coffee.

You lived for this shit. 

"Listen to the wind blow, watch the sun rise.

Running in the shadows, damn your love, damn your lies."

You were at the best moment, the cup of coffee in your hand, your voice echoing the words of the song you had a slight obsession with when a knock came from your door.

"Shit!" You yelled when the coffee from your cup splashed out at your knee-jerk reaction to the interruptive knock. The hot liquid barely missed you but still… you could cry over spilled coffee, right?

You threw down a towel you had in arms reach on the floor before scurrying to the door. Hoping it was Olivia here to tell you that she decided to go in a different direction and needed to replace you as head makeup artist.

"Scares like a cat." Harry said more to Florence than you when your head poked out of the door. You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the smile forming on your lips. 

"You made me spill my coffee." You said with a fake pout. Harry's eye brightened as his dimpled smile came across his face. 

"Good, we brought you something better." Florence chimed in, a cup of something that definitely wasn't coffee in her hand was now glaring at you. A bag of take out boxes in another.

"Ew." You scrunched your nose as you looked at the offensive cup. Your hand finally opened the door enough for them both to slip in.

"You guys didn't have to bring me lunch." You brows furrowed. Why were they being so nice to you? You had no idea. You weren't really the friendly type, not until you warmed up to people at least.

"Noticed yeh didn't 'ave lunch with yeh. Can't run on coffee and no food." Harry shrugged slightly. Like it wasn't a big deal that they somehow managed to notice you had no lunch with you that day. Your confusion grew more by the second. Maybe this was how people became friends? You weren't entirely sure.

"Love this song." Harry muttered before he plopped down on the love-seat in your trailer. His feet kicked up on the coffee table, obviously making himself at home in your space. 

"It's a good one but nothing tops 'Dreams'." You said as you took a seat on one of your makeup chairs, Florence sat on the other side of Harry.

"You two have the same bad taste in music." She groaned as she fished out the first take out box from the bag she had in her hand. Your shocked gasp made her pause.

"How dare you say that about our Lord and Savior, Stevie Nicks. You should be ashamed of yourself." Your dramatic voice and Harry's laughter of agreement made her roll her eyes at you both. Quickly going back to unpacking the bag they brought for all three of you.

"Want us to turn on 'Wonderwall' for you?" You asked through a voice cracked with laughter. Her green eyes immediately snapped to yours, narrowing at you.

"Fuckin' hell, that was a good one." Harry mumbled out, his arm wrapped around her as he smiled widely at her fake pouting.

"See if I bring you lunch ever again." She mumbled under her breath. Finally done unloading the three take out boxes and all the utensils out of the bag. 

You gave her a fake pout. Her eyes rolled when she handed you the box. You were too curious for your own good most of the time, right now though, you were scared to open this box and some weird ass Hollywood "lunch" would be staring back at you.

Harry's amused eyes kept meeting yours when you'd look up from your box to whatever the hell they were eating. Nothing but rabbit food and not the good kind either, whatever they were managing to shovel down their throats smelled like rotten eggs. You were trying your best to not be a whiny brat about getting free lunch when you heard Harry let out a chuckle from his side of the room. Florence immediately looked up to see you staring blankly at the box in front of you.

"Gonna open it up, kitten?" Harry asked with an infuriating smug smile on his lips. Your eyes rolled at the nickname but you couldn't deny it stirred something in you.

"We didn’t get you steamed kale." Florence giggled when the sigh of relief left you. 

"Thank fuck. I thought I was going to have to gag that crap down." You smiled when you opened the box. A plate of harmless looking pasta sat in front of you. All the carbs and wonderful goodness in the world that you absolutely adored. 

Leave the healthy shit for them, you thought.

"Wait!" She yelled from across the room, you jumped slightly at the loud sound making Harry laugh. "Got to try this first."

"No way. I'd rather eat the stinky kale then whatever's in this." You tried to push your hand away from the drink she was adamantly trying to hand you. 

"Come on. Jus' fo' fun, yeah? Never 'ave to try anything new again with us if yeh don't like it." Harry said. Florence head snapped around to him quickly before looking back at you. A curt nod of her soft blonde curls told you she agreed with him.

You took the cup from her. Cautiously opening the lid to peak at the color of the drink. A bright green color stared back at you. Your nose scrunched up at the sight but the smell wasn't the worst, not compared to the steamed green leaves the other two were eating. 

"Bottoms up. If I die, tell my parents I was forced to drink this." You mumbled out right before downing half the cup of cold green liquid. You hoped if you chugged it the way you did cheap beer when you were 19 would mean you wouldn't taste it much.

You were wrong but surprisingly you were thankfully you got a good taste because it was fucking delicious.

Your eyes brightened when you took the next sip. Slower this time to actually enjoy the drink. 

"Told yeh she'd like it." Harry said with a smug smile across his face. The look of triumph directed toward Florence who pushed his shoulder with her own at his comment.

"Sod off, Harold."

"This is really good." You said in between drinks. A very prominent caffeine buzz started to hit you by the time you'd finished the last drop.

"Got more caffeine too." Harry smiled brightly. Florence rolled her eyes as she stabbed a piece of kale with her fork.

"Yeah, well, the pasta was my idea and I'm sure she'll love it." She grumbled like it was some sort of contest between them.

It didn’t take long for you to realize you actually liked hanging out with the both of them. They were able to keep up a conversation with ease, even whenever you didn't feel like talking they both could somehow sense it. They weren't draining to be around, which really surprised you. 

The both of them could joke and tease. You and Florence ganged up on Harry. Harry and you on her. Florence and Harry on you. Nonstop teasing, jokes, and enough laughter you could feel your cheeks ache by the end of lunch. 

You definitely could see yourself being genuine friends with both of them.

>>>

To say you three managed to get close fast was an understatement. You three practically became inseparable by the end of the first week of shooting. If all three of you weren't together at least two of you were and the other one wasn't far behind.

It quickly became a joke on set. People constantly had to find where the three of you had snuck off to. Which was usually to the food table that was set up for the actors but Harry insisted that it was for everyone, even though you knew it wasn't.

He didn't care though, he just wanted to make sure you actually ate for the day and not just down caffeinated drinks for a meal. Florence on the other hand, was more than willing to invite you to lunch every single day. Her pleas for you to join the two of them was impossible to turn down after a while. 

You figured it was pointless anyways since they brought back food for you every time you said you weren't hungry. So today was the day you'd finally gave in to her cute pouting.

"This place looks like they have those really small dishes that cost more than my rent." You mumbled to Florence as you approached the building that looked like it had jumped out of a magazine.

"You'll love it!" She beamed brightly from beside you. You wanted to believe her, you really did, but you were more of a cheap bar food type of girl. In fact, the bar by your house now knew you by name whenever you walked through the door. Which was only slightly pathetic, but you didn't have many friends and you weren't that good at making new ones, so you weren't in any position to hurt her feelings by not liking this place.

Her hand slipped casually into yours as you neared closer to the building. Harry rounded the corner from parking his car right before you two crossed the street. His long legs stride easily over to you two, his arm around your shoulder. 

That was another thing that had threw you a bit off guard at first. They both were so touchy. Your hair, your face, holding hands, hugging, hands resting on your thigh. One of them always had a hand on you any time they could. It was a little strange at first but you quickly realized this was just how they were with you.

And you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't enjoy it now. 

"I can feel yeh bein' nervous from 'ere." Harry said so closely to your ear you could feel the soft touches of his lips against you. 

Your breathing seemed to stop for a second before you swallowed the feeling and turned to him. Eyes wide as you glanced back to Florence, trying to tell him to shut up before she realized you didn't want to be eating French cuisine.

He chuckled, shaking his head before pulling you back to the table that was already set up for you guys. 

This was fancy and you were so out of place. The small table in the corner tucked you guys away from everyone. The stark white linen over the table had you anxious from the moment you sat down. Who the fuck puts white on a table?! At least the dim lighting had your back. This way no one could see you choke on a snail as you faked your way through this lunch.

Florence hand rested on one of your legs, Harry's on the other, both of them deliberately choosing to ignore your anxious feet tapping on the floor.

"Sweetheart?" Harry called you out of your panic from looking at the menu that was in French. Screw your 14 year old self for taking 4 years of Spanish in high school. "I can order fo' yeah if you want."

"Oh, I think I'm gonna have the, um…" you paused, squinting at the menu of fancy font. "Langue de boeuf?"

"Okay, 'm not lettin' yeh eat tongue." Harry snickered when your nose scrunched up. Who in their right mind would ever want to eat that?

"Wait…" Florence said as she sat down her menu in front of her with her one free hand. Your eyes glinting over to see her looking so confused, yet so adorable with her scrunched brows pulled together. Her head tilted as she blinked a few times at you. "Do you- do you not like French food?"

"I've just… never had it before." You settled for a half-truth, not wanting to hurt her feelings.

"Your last name is François!" She said as her cheeks turned flaming red. Harry's snicker from beside you did nothing to help her embarrassment. Your hand quickly squeezed his, hard, under the table to tell him to stop.

"I'm adopted," You smiled widely at her surprised expression. It's not like she knew you were adopted and she really was being so sweet planning all this out, thinking you'd feel at home here. "And the only thing French about my dad is he knows how to say beget."

"God, I'm so sorry, if- if I'd known, I'd neve-" 

"Flor, please," you smiled as you took her hands away from fiddling with her menu. "I never told you. It's not a big deal. Besides, now you two can order for me in your fancy French words."

You dismissed her worrying with a wave of your hand and a gently prod of the menu. If anything, this was the most heartwarmingly considerate thing anyone had ever done for you. At least she tried to include things with the three of you that you'd also like.

When the, equally nervous as you, waiter finally approached your table to take your drink orders you were glad those two were handling everything. It felt sort of like being spoiled and you'd take that any day of the week. 

"I know you." The waiter, Grayson you learned from his name tag, said after a few awkward seconds of standing in front of the table. You were only half listening, assuming it was for either one of the obviously famous people sitting beside you. "Yeah! That's right you're Y/N Y/L/N-François!"

Your eyes widened, cheeks heated as you squirmed in your seat. Both Florence and Harry looking back and forth between you and your new fan.

"God, your makeup on insta is amazing. The special effects stuff is so good. Really, I'm a big fan." He gushed as you mumbled out a small thank you, your hand clutching the complementary cup of water in front of you like it was a life raft. "Here, you can have my insta handle. Maybe you can DM sometime."

His movements to start writing down his Instagram information came to a screeching halt when both Harry and Florence shot him glares. The tension grew thick between the three of them. Some sort of a weird show down as you tried to drink your water and ignore the awkwardness.

Maybe they didn't like their friends being bothered at lunch when they were with them? You weren't sure. In all honesty, this never happened to you but you could see why this would be annoying for them. They had to deal with it all the time.

This is what they'd do for any of their friends. Right?

The tension finally eased when the waiter left the table. Your cup finally placed back down on the white linen when you let out a sigh of relief. You weren't one for strangers and they both knew it. Maybe they were just telling that guy to screw off because of your nerves, yeah that was it.

The rest of the lunch went much better than you expected. Conversation between you three was never a problem but even the food was amazing.

The two of them had great taste.

"Come on. Gonna be late if we don't get out of here." Florence mumbled, her hand already in yours as she pulled you out of the seat. You didn't even have time to get a word out when Harry threw down an ungodly wad of money on the table.

"You didn't have to pay for me." You said when he caught up to you. His hand on your lower back as he guided you through the door.

"What kind of date would that be?" Florence said without thinking. Your confused eyes shooting to her briefly before looking at the horrified Harry. "Lunch date, meant lunch date, with friends."

"Oh," you said, still a bit confused but chugging through it so you didn't have any awkward conversations. "Still, thank you."

Harry's tensed shoulders relaxed when he gave you a nodd. His eyes shot daggers to Florence over your head as you three started walking.

"I'm sorry!" She mouthed silently to him. You were completely oblivious to the mimed conversation between the two as you walked in front of them.

>>>

"Lookin' sweet today, kitten." Harry's voice from behind you made you jump in your skin. Your hand over your chest like that would somehow stop your nerves.

"What's got you all dressed up?" Florence asked as they both stood in front of you on set. 

Your hands fiddled with the tight black lace top you had on. It complemented your bust so well but it made you feel awkward and out of place, like everyone's eyes were on you. Plus the pants that hugged your ass tighter than cling wrap weren't helping with the shameless stares from people.

"Is- is it too much?" Your words stumbled over themselves as your face heated.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

"Yeh look gorgeous like always." A slight frown danced on his lips as he looked down towards you. He could tell something was up by your anxious movements. Your eyes flickering around the studio like you were constantly on the lookout for someone.

"Okay," you sighed, your hand running over your hair as you tried to calm yourself down. "You guys know the sound technician, James?"

Their faces solidified to stone at your words. Both of them rigid as they looked at you. Not a hint of emotion detectable in their expressions.

"He asked me out." You felt uneasy, unsure of the decision to go to lunch with him. You felt like you were going to die in a ball of nerves at any second. This was exactly why you didn't date.

Sure, you'd gone on a date here or there. Mostly when your very small friend group got tired of you third wheeling at all the couples activities. You'd then be set up with someone, it wouldn't work out because you were one shred away from being a nutcase, and that would be the end of it.

"You can't go out with him!" Florence said shrilly, her eyes widened as the words came out of her mouth.

"Why?" You asked, eyes glancing over to the guy in question.

"He uh- he uh," she stammered, her hand slapped Harry against his chest twice for him to answer for her.

"He sniffs people!" His words rushed out of his mouth. Your eyebrows scrunched together.

"What?" You asked, as Florence hand rubbed the temple of her head before shooting a deathly glance at Harry.

"Yeah, Harry, what?" She asked, obviously annoyed but you weren't sure why. It wasn't like she was about to go on a date with the guy.

"I saw him. He likes to, uhm, yeh know." Harry looked at the ground before his hands shoved into his pockets. "He sniffs peoples hair."

"Wow," your hopes of going on a date that didn't involve cheap beer and 25 cent chicken wings suddenly blew up into flames. "Well, thanks for telling me."

"It's okay, Y/N, we'll go out to lunch." Florence said softly, her hand in yours as she gidded you off the set.

"Thanks guys." You smiled softly, head rested against Harry's chest as you three walked.

>>>

"We've got to tell her." Florence spoke quietly as she snuggled into Harry's side. His duvet wrapped tightly around the both of them in his oversized bed.

"I don't know.." He glanced at the fallen face of his girlfriend. "This all could backfire and then she won't even want to be friends."

"But, things don't feel right. It's like she's our missing piece." Her bottom lip started to tremble, corners of her eyes held onto tears that she refused to let fall. 

"I know, I feel it too." He sighed as he laid back on his pillow. Looking up at the ceiling. A large feeling grew in his stomach, despair. You didn't seem like the type who dated adventurously or tried different things in your life. 

He wanted you. God, how they both wanted you. You, their missing piece. Your presence made the both of them feel that indescribable warmth of home in their chest. Your laugh, your smile, your terrible sense of humor, and the way you had no idea just how desirable you really were.

"One of us should make a move on her." Florence said, finally breaking the silence between the two of them.

"Think?"

"Think it'll be the only way to know for sure if she likes one of us or not."

>>>

That Friday morning started like all the other mornings since you'd been on this job. A new mystery cup of tea in your hands that Harry had brought for you that morning. Their makeup was done long ago but now they hid out in your trailer until some intern was forced to go and find them. 

This had been your three's new morning routine for the past three weeks and surprisingly, you weren't bothered by having your quiet time interrupted by them. You were actually starting to look forward to these morning's. 

"Do you want to come to dinner with us tonight?" Florence asked you from her spot on the love seat. Your head lifted from the trashy magazine you were mindlessly flipping through on the floor. You chuckled as you shook your head at her, turning back to the obvious lies written in ink.

"We won't make yeh eat anythin' weird, kitten." Harry smiled easily when he moved off the couch to sit by you. His arm around your shoulders when you looked up in disbelief. 

"I could pick the place." You suggested a cheeky smug smirk across your face when they both looked like you'd asked them for a kidney. "See, I knew you two wanted to eat somewhere gross!"

"You always want tacos!" Florence groaned flinging herself against the now unoccupied side of the couch that Harry previously sat at. A pout on her face as she tried to get you to change your mind.

"I do not." You scoffed. Okay, maybe you did but still those two could use a real meal or two.

"What if we do food and a movie at mine?" Harry asked, interrupting yours and Florence's teasing back and forth.

"Yes!" She agreed eagerly, her bright eyes filled with excitement and you knew you couldn't say no even if you wanted to.

>>>

You had to admit, you were fucking nervous to go to Harry's house. The neighborhood your old Camero chugged through was definitely not like your neighborhood at all. It was all fancy houses, nice lawns, and security everywhere. You felt like you were a step away from breaking into the pentagon when you rolled up to the gate for the guard to let you in.

You stood anxiously on his front step. The 6 pack of Coors Light seemed like such a bad choice now. You mentally cursed yourself for being so stupid, how could you think someone who lived here would be okay with your cheap beer? You were four seconds away from faking a stomach ache and going home to your hole of an apartment when the door opened. Harry's smiling face with that cute little dimple popping out stared at you looking so out of place.

"Don't gotta be nervous, yeh know?" He asked when he took your hand in his, pulling you into the house.

"Well, you did say you two would bite." You crack a smile at his bark of a laugh. Nerves easily washing off you when you made it into his living room. 

"Where's Flor?" You asked, eyebrows raised when you turned to him.

It wasn't that you minded being one-on-one with Harry. You two got along great but you figured the blonde would be here already, the two of them seemed inseparable.

"On her way." He shrugged, his ass hitting the seat of the couch, motioning for you to do the same.

"What're we going to watch?" You asked as you sat down beside him, his arm around you when sat back from placing the beer down on the floor.

"Anythin' yeh want." He said, his eyes trained on you as you wracked your brain for a film those two would watch with you without complaining.

"Only watch horror." 

"No way, nope. Not watchin' a scary movie. Yeh'll never sleep." He joked, his arm tighter around you as he pulled you into his chest. 

"Not sleeping here so it's not gonna be your problem." You poked back, your head leaning against him. God, he smelled amazing.

"Sure yeh are. Got beer with yeh, can't drive drunk, kitten." His fingers lifted your chin when he spoke to you. Your eyes meeting his briefly before they flickered to his lips.

Have they always looked that good? Or was the intoxicating scent of his cologne making you drunk on him? 

You couldn't tell and honestly, you could care less what the reason was when his face seemed to inch closer to you. He was going to kiss you, you realized. Your breathing seem to halt in your throat when he was millimeters away from you. His nose pressed lightly to yours, setting your soul on fire. 

Your stomach turned and flopped, that familiar chill of desire ran down your spine all the way to your core. Your hands wanted to grip onto him, kiss him with a passion when the doorbell rang.

You jumped in your skin. Your body jerked back from him. Your big round doe-eyes staring blankly into his face. He groaned, eyes squeezed shut, resting his forehead against yours.

"She's got the worst timin'." He muttered before getting up from the couch to answer the door. The breath you'd been holding in released when he left the room.

Did you really about kiss your friend? And not only was he a friend, he was a coworker. You groaned, hands covered your face as it burned in embarrassment. What the hell were you thinking? You knew better than to ever mix business and feelings, especially when it came to famous people.

Florence entering the room with her sweet smile put a stop to your insanely degrading thoughts. You'd simply just pretend this never happened. Push it to the back of your mind and forget it, yeah that would be the solution.

>>>

"Why do we gotta watch this scary shit?" Florence asked, her hands covering her eyes as Jason stalked through the forest after innocent teenagers.

"You've literally acted in horror movies." You smiled at her glare she shot at you. Her head laid on your shoulder as she whined loudly. Harry sat on the other side of her, his hand rested on her thigh.

You had no idea how to even begin to feel about that. An hour ago he was trying to kiss you and now he was rubbing her thigh. You didn't understand but refused to acknowledge the fact that the kiss almost even happened.

There was definitely tension between the three of you, awkward feelings floating in the air around his oversized living room. You tried your best to shove it down, to ignore whatever happened with you and Harry, especially since Florence was here and you had no idea what she would think.

"Let's take shots." She said as she flipped off the TV right as Jason's machete swung wildly through the air towards screaming teenagers.

"Trying to get us drunk?" Harry chuckled as he stood and walked to the kitchen. That smile on his face that could melt hearts.

"Duh. You two are being weird." She said as she eyed you up. Your face heating so much you swore you'd burst into flames. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just you know, stupid stuff." You waved your hand, dismissing her question. An unbelieving hum coming from her as Harry came back in with a bottle of tequila and shot glasses.

"Oh fuck," you groaned at the sight of the bottle, your old enemy that made you say the dumbest shit glared back at you.

"Gonna be able to keep up, kitty?" Harry asked as he sat down a full shot glass in front of you on his coffee table. 

You wished you'd been the type of person who was smart enough to see a bad idea staring you in the face.

You were not that person.

The shot stung and burned your throat the whole way down your throat. The potent liquid turned your stomach into knots whenever it hit the acid there.

Maybe you'd regret this tomorrow morning but it'd make one hell of a story.

>>>

"Yeh never dated?" Harry asked, the upper half of his body swayed back and forth as he sat crossed legged on the floor of his living room. 

"Nope." You answered back before shooting what had to be shot number 10 down your throat. The once burning drink now felt like water when it went down.

"Wait, are you a virgin?" Florence asked, her eyes wide as she stared at you. The serious look on her face made you bust out laughing.

"I'm not a virgin. I just don't date."

"But you're so pretty. Anyone would date you." Florence said, her hand brushing back the hair from your forehead that was beading alcohol induced sweat.

"Don't have the time. Always busy." You said with a sigh. Sure, you wanted to date but your working schedule made it impossible. You couldn't even have a cat you were so busy and you fucking loved cats.

"Ever date more than one person at the same time?" Harry asked when he looked up from his shot that sat in front of him. Testing the waters, he thought, if you said you'd never do that at least you'd be likely to not remember the next day.

"Nah." You shrugged, completely missing the look Florence shot Harry's way. A warning to not push the subject.

"Y'could." He suggested as the warm feeling of sleep started to surround your body. Your eyes feeling more and more heavy by the second.

"That means two people would actually have to like me." You gave a short laugh. Your eyes closing, head falling back to lay on the couch. You'd only rest them for a second, you thought.

"We like you." Florence said quietly from beside you. Her statement being answered with your soft snores.

"She's never gonna agree to it." Harry mumbled, the shot in front of him finally being thrown to the back of his throat.

"But-" Florence started, her hands running over your hair. "I don't know, Harry. I just like her so much. Things feel right when she's around."

"I know, sweetheart." He said as he stood from his spot. His arms encircled you, picking you up as Florence stood from her spot on the floor. The two of them and the passed out you made your way to his room. The big plush bed you would have loved was soft under your body. Your hands closed around the pillow under your head.

"I wanna keep her." Florence said as she laid down beside you. Her hand rested over yours as Harry climbed into bed on the other side of you. 

"M'too but I think I scared her when I tried to kiss her." He said quietly, the both of them speaking in whispers over top of you.

Florence sighed, her lips pouting as she stared at your resting face. She knew weeks ago she liked you. Knew from the moment you laughed wholeheartedly at her terrible jokes that she wanted you. The same gleam bounced in Harry's eyes whenever he looked at you but you never noticed. 

You never took any of their flirting seriously. Never paid a second thought to them asking you out or trying to take you to nice places. 

It made a bit more sense to them now that they knew you never dated but how the hell could you not pick up on their shameless flirtation? Harry called you kitten for God's sake.

"Jus' gonna 'ave to be blunt." Harry said a while later. The both of them doing nothing else but listening to your soft snores.

"Tomorrow?"

"Yeah, tomorrow."

>>>

You woke up the next morning to a pounding in your head. Your eyes barely saw anything through the foggy vision of your sleepy eyes. You swallowed down that dry feeling in your throat - water, you needed water.

You groaned softly as you pushed yourself up from the bed that wasn't your own. You knew you'd end up crashing the night at Harry's but you didn't expect to end up in the same bed with him, with both of them.

You figured that was honestly better than you and Harry alone in the bed together, at least you know you didn't do anything with Florence laying next to you two. 

You slipped out of bed, easily. The both of them didn't move a muscle as you snuck out of the house and towards your car. Maybe it was rude for you to run off like this but you needed to nurse your hangover at your own place.

You sighed, throwing your phone on your cluttered kitchen table when you finally made it home. The traffic was awful and of course everyone was laying on their horns like that would somehow help the long line of idle cars.

Your head was killing you when you sat in your shower. The water running over you was warm and much-needed. The hangover seemed to wash down the drain with your lavender soap. 

You were calm, in your element, when frantic knocking at your door interrupted your shower. You cursed under your breath, cutting off the water quickly. Hoping it wasn't your elderly neighbor who always seemed to need help moving boxes on Saturday's.

"I'm coming, Ms. Thompson!" You yelled as the knocking grew more frantic. Your bathrobe tightly around you when you opened the door. The both of them looked like a mess of anxiety and worry.

"Uh, hi?" You said with the door barely opened enough for your head to stick out. Water dripping off you collected on the floor at your feet.

"Hi? Seriously?" Florence growled, her usually sweet and calm voice laced with irritation as she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at you.

"Where's yeh phone? We thought you wondered off in the middle of the night or sumthin'. We were bloody worried, Y/N." Harry said as you opened the door for them to come in. 

"It's dead." You gestured to the useless piece of technology sitting on your table. Harry hands ran over his face as he shook his head. Florence's lips pursed as they both looked anywhere but at you.

"Am I missing something?" You finally asked after what felt like hours. "'Cause I feel like I'm being scolded by my parents right now."

"You can't be serious. God, Y/N," Florence fumed in a way you'd never seen before. The confusion in your mind growing larger by the second. "What would we have done if something happened to you?

"Uhhh…" your eyebrows furrowed together as you looked towards Harry for help. You had no idea what the hell you did to make them so worried about you.

"Can yeh sit down?" Harry asked you, his head nodded in a gesture towards your couch. Anxiety crawled through your skin as you walked over to sit on your plain and basic couch.

Harry's hands smoothing down the front of his pants and Florence foot tapping like mad on your floors did nothing to calm your racing mind. All three of you sat in tension on your couch. You were sandwiched between the both of them. Their shoulders pressed tightly against yours and maybe if it was under different circumstances you'd enjoy the close contact.

"We like you." Florence blurted out into the silence of your living room. 

Your widening eyes looked at her in complete disbelief until you burst with laughter. The snorting chuckling sounds died quickly when they both seemed to clam up.

"You're serious?" You asked, both of them seemed too nervous to answer at first. Harry's concerned filled eyes connecting with yours briefly before looking at the ground, his hands, his rings. Anywhere else.

"We do but we get if 's weird fo' yeh. We can just forget it if yeh want us to go back to bein' friends." He rushed out nervously as you let out a breath of air.

"I'm just surprised someone, who doesn't sniff people, likes me." You mumbled, hand pushing back your damp hair out of your face. Harry's snort of a laugh and a shake of his head had your eyebrows pulled together before Florence called your attention again with her nerve wrecked voice.

"I can't believe you didn't notice." Her hands fiddled together with nerves. "We kept asking you out."

"I'm a bit dense." You said with a short laugh.

"Whaddya say?" Harry asked as he took his hand in yours. Florence doing the same with the other. Flutters in your stomach blossomed at their touch. One hand, soft and silky like satin, the other, rough and calloused at the tips but smooth towards the palm.

You swallowed the nerves down. Your mind filled with so many doubts, so many thoughts all at the same time. Anxiousness mixed with excitement. It was new, different, and you had so many questions.

"How- how would this work?" You asked, both sets of eyes brightening at your words.

"How ever you want." Florence rushed out. The prospect of you actually considering this had her heart racing almost out of her chest. Really, she'd agree to anything you wanted as long as it included you three being exclusive.

"We… just date?" You asked, your brows furrowed as you stared at your hands. Your mind trying to turn out the logistics was going to drive you absolutely insane.

"Well, yes but y'know… the three of us." Harry gestured to the three of you.

"Won't someone get jealous?" You asked him, your head tilted to the side as you watched his lips purse in consideration.

"Guess if one of us gets jealous we gotta talk 'bout it. Work it out." He said, Florence nodding her head in agreement from beside you.

"And.." you started to get nervous about your next question, the one that had been blaring in your mind since this conversation started. "The sex?"

"Already tryin' to bed us, kitten?" Harry joked as Florence shot him a glare. Your face heated and eyes widened, maybe this was a bad idea, you were already about to die from embarrassment.

"Shut up." She whispered yelled from beside you like you wouldn't be able to hear it. Harry's eyes rolled in his head that smug smirk on his face.

"We don't have to talk about that for a while if you don't want to. We can figure it out later." Florence said softly from beside you. Her hand taking yours again, her thumb ran soothing circles against the back of it.

You shrugged, your lip between your teeth as you thought about what it'd be like to have both of them. A familiar heat worked up in the bottom of your stomach.

God, even just picturing it was getting you started. You could only imagine what it'd be like when it actually happened.

"The little minx." Harry laughed as he leaned up to look at you the thoughts you were thinking clearly wrote across your face. "Think she wants t'give it a try before settling on an answer, Flor."

"Hmm," she hummed from beside you, a smile cracked on her face as she brushed the damp hair off your shoulder. "Think she needs some more convincing?"

"Yeah, looks like it to me." Harry words floated over you, through the air above you. Your mind tried to desperately grab at the words, make sense of them, but it was useless. You were already gone at the mere prospect of the rest of the day's events.

"Can I kiss you?" Her word brought you down to earth but only barely. 

Her plush lips made you forget how sentences form or words could be spoken in the English language when they hesitantly met yours. They were soft, not demanding to take control. She let you come to her. Let you set the pace that you were comfortable with.

Your hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her addictive gently touch harder into you. A heavenly sounded moan slid from her mouth when your tongue slipped its way in. You could have gotten lost in the way you moved so insync with each other when she pulled back.

Your deep breathing and closed eyes made her grin widely. Maybe you would be okay with this arrangement. 

Harry's hand in yours again got your attention. Eyes snapped open to see the pretty blonde in front of you smiling smugly.

"Can I kiss yeh?" His thick accent somehow sounded richer in this moment. Your head turned to the other side to see his usually bright green eyes darken with lust. The sight of him like that could keep you satisfied for a month, maybe longer. 

"Yes." You barely had the word out of your mouth when his lips pressed forcefully to yours. Demanding movements of his mouth led you in the kiss, determined hands grabbed your hips to lift you onto his lap. The sudden movement through you off balance. Your ass hitting his very prominent boner made you moan.

Holy shit, how the hell were you supposed to handle all of that?

You whimpered as he pulled you back from him. His hands running under the robe to your unclothed ass. His calloused fingers felt rough against your skin as he groaned, his head against the back of the couch as Florence moved over beside you two.

"We can stop 'ere." Harry said through gritted teeth when your hips moved over his, chasing the feeling of his retreating hands.

Florence hummed her agreement as you sat back fully on Harry's lap. Your mind ran circled around you. The last thing you were thinking right now was quitting this.

"I want to see you kiss." You said through your nerves both their wide eyes blinked up at you. Not thinking you'd be wanting to go any further. 

Florence acted quickly, her hands on either one of Harry's cheeks as she pulled his lips to hers. The two of them were obviously familiar with the other. They'd been doing this for a while, you assumed.

Whatever worries you had about being jealous or not liking the three of you together all at one time quickly went out the window. They were fucking hot together. The sight of them wrestling for the lead sent a flood of arousal straight to your core. Your hips grinding against Harry's lap, desperate for any friction. 

"Think we got her answer." Harry mumbled into Florence's mouth, a smile on his lips as she laughed. Your face heated as she faced you with that sweet smile.

"We better make sure she doesn't change her mind then."

>>>

It was an absolute mess of limbs as you three rushed to the bedroom. Lips against lips, tongues sliding against one another's to a point you weren't sure where Harry started and Florence ended. 

"Gonna make yeh feel so good, princess." Harry's deep voice vibrated against you. His lips pressed tightly to your ear, turned upwards at the corners in a sinful smile. His hands gripped the back of your legs tighter, bringing them closer to God and you further and further away from ever having a front row ticket to the pearly gates. 

If this was why you went to hell, it'd be fucking worth it.

Her teeth grazed the inside of your bare thighs. Just enough to get your attention back to her pretty head of blonde hair between your legs. Harry's head against your shoulder as he watched her work you into an absolute mess of whines and she hadn't even done anything yet.

"So sensitive, baby." She smiled against your skin. Her perfect white teeth biting a bit harder into you before sucking the flesh of your inner thigh into her mouth. Marking you as theirs. 

You whimpered, head against Harry's shoulder as your fingers dug deep into his forearms that were holding your legs open for Florence. His throbbing erection leaking a river against your ass every time you squirmed in place. 

Hot breath fanned against your core. Her dainty fingers ran through your exposed folds and maybe, if you had more shame, you would have held back the pornographic moan that came from you. But you couldn't help it, they'd been absolutely teasing you relentlessly. Wanting to see how you ticked.

"Please, fuck," your hoarse voice cracked as you looked down at her. She was laid on her stomach arms crossed in front of her as she shamelessly studied you. "Flor, please."

"We're getting there." She mumbled, her fingers stopped their movements, one finger slipped into your absolutely dripping pussy. 

"Fuck." Harry breathed out as another moan fell from you. A subtle shift from his hips had another wet spot starting on your back.

"She's soaked, Harry." Florence held up her fingers that were doused in you up for him to inspect. A hum coming from him as he kissed against your neck that was littered with marks he'd left.

"Think y'can give us that answer now, pretty girl?" He smiled at your defiant 'humph', you were going to be so much fun to tease. "Come on, wanna hear y'say it. Then, yeh can get what y'want." 

You debated it for a second, your pride or your relief.

"I wanna be your girlfriend." You mumbled through nerves. Never one to be vocal during sex wasn't going to be an option with them. 

"Didn't hear yeh."

"Fuck," you groaned, face heating to blazing temperatures you didn't know existed outside of the sun. "I want to be your two's girlfriend!"

"No need to yell, baby." Florence said with a smug smile up to you. 

"You both ca--" you started to tell them both to shove off when her tongue finally, finally, ran across your swollen clit. 

You swore your eyes actually rolled back in your head.

"Told yeh we'd give yeh what you wanted." That smug smirk on his face as he watched you starting to fall apart.

Her tongue was flat and thick against your folds. Wild and untamed in it's adventures to find all the spots that made your toes curl. Her moans from your taste echoed through you.

"Holy shit," she breathed out, her mouth disconnected from you only briefly. Her thumb pressed on your clit, rubbing lightly. "Gotta taste her for yourself."

"Will after yeh finish. Don't wanna hog her all to m'self." 

You felt like you were going to explode. Here there were, casually talking about you like you weren't even there. It was so fucking hot.

Her hands grasped onto Harry's thighs as her whole face practically buried itself into your core. You'd been eaten out before, but not like this.

Her tongue switched so effortlessly between slow, thick, long, strides to quick, tight, circles on your throbbing bundle of nerve endings. She seemed to be a step away from reading your mind. Two fingers pushing into you right when you needed them the most.

"Gonna cum, pup?" Harry grunted against your skin. His eyes never left the absolutely sinful scene in front of him. Kisses pressed against your neck, your shoulder, anywhere he could reach.

"Yes, fuck, oh-" your voice carried through your small apartment. So loud, so lustful, you didn't even recognize it was yours at first. Her fingers hitting that spot inside you so perfectly, your tightening walls couldn't take it anymore. 

A release in a way you've never experienced before finally hit you. Your whole body shivered from the force of it. Eyes closed tightly, head against Harry's shoulder. It was so good it almost hurt.

When you finally started to surface from that hazy feeling of pure bliss you were being lowered onto the bed. Your legs that had been held open for so long ached and throbbed but it was so fucking worth it.

"Think y'can handle another one?" Harry smiled down to you as he hovered over the bed. Florence settling beside you, her hand over your hair to calm you down.

"Yeah." You barely breathed out, eyes connected with hers briefly. How the hell could someone look so sweet and adorable after wrecking you? 

You hummed, head leaning up to give her a kiss. Lips connected with hers as you reached for Harry's hand. His cool rings relieved the burning hot skin of your hands as you pulled him to your guys level. 

His lips replaced hers against yours. His hands taking time to explore the curves of your body, your chest. Fingers dancing against your budded nipples. Your overly sensitive body was aching for another release as you moaned into his smirking mouth. His hand kneading your flesh in brand new ways.

"Ass up, sweetheart." His cocky tone of voice had your heart beat picking right back up as you turned over onto your knees. You rested on your elbows, hand motioning for Florence to lay in front of you. Her eyes widened as she stared you down.

"Well, don't be shy." You smiled as she crawled over to you, her legs laid open on the bed as your arms wrapped around her thighs.

"Just, just, surprised this is happening." Her words stumbled out as your tongue started to explore her folds the way hers had done. Gently soft pressure against her core, hardly enough to taste her, teasing.

Payback for them taunting you in the beginning. 

Her breathing caught in her throat, her elbows barely keeping her upright when you finally got a good taste of her and fuck, was she delicious. You moaned, hands dug into her thighs as your tongue slipped into her tight hole.

You could do this the rest of your fucking life.

Harry's distraction finally broke when Florence's eyes opened again. Green eyes meeting green eyes as her hand tugged your head down harder into her core. His tongue wet his lips before his hand traveled down between your legs, fuckin' hell you were soaking almost down to your knees.

He wanted to be gentle with you, soft, loving. Show you how much he liked you but when you shifted your ass back into him. Wiggling back and forth for him, he couldn't help himself. You little temptress. His hand landed firmly on your ass and what he didn't expect was the full fledged roar of a moan that came from you. His dick twitched from the sound.

"Fuck," your voice muffled by the her silky wet cunt. Her hand lifting your head up just enough to see your eyes as Harry started to slide into your velvet cave. His hand bruising your hip as he cursed under his breath.

"Feel good, H?" Florence wore that smug smile as his lust blown eyes met hers. His snappy comments and witty attitude put at bay by your contracting walls having a hard time keeping up with his girth.

"God, sweet girl, your pussy is fuckin' tight." He thrusted a bit further into your narrow opening, your hands dug deep into Florence's legs as you whimpered. Her hands ran over your hair as she shushed you.

"Oh my g--" you choked out as he finally settled fully in you. His hands pulled the round flesh of your ass back to see where you two were connected. He pulled out only a little just to push slowly back in. His head fall to his chest as your vortex sucked him back in. "Move, please, move."

Your hips only swayed slightly before he was pounding into you. You were thankfully you had a job in front of you to do or else you would have been reaching another orgasm in mere seconds. His length hitting that spot inside of you every single time. 

You had to force yourself to concentrate, to not let your eyes roll back into your head whenever he pumped into you. Your tongue ran circles around her clit, your fingers slid into her easy. Nothing but moans filled your small apartment, your bed creaking from how hard he was thrusting into you.

You felt so sorry for your downstairs neighbors.

Her hand tightened in your hair as his hand tightened around your hip. You were pushed, pulled, tugged, manhandled, and holy fuck was it making your walls clench tighter. Your tongue was more determined than ever to make fast work of getting her off when you felt your fast approaching end over the horizon.

"Oh, oh," she moaned her hips bouncing down on your face as she fucked herself on your tongue and fingers.

"'M close." Harry grunted from behind you, his hand slapping down on your ass again.

You didn’t have the time or capacity to enjoy the stinging pain that went through your body. Tingling sensation all the way through your core when you felt the walls against your fingers start to contract. A wildly erotic moan came from her as Harry's hand reached around to rub fast pace circles on your clit.

Stars danced along your vision as your release hit you. Sloppy thrust of Harry's hips slowed down as a warmth filled you. Overrunning from your puffy, abused, pussy down your legs to the bedspread. Your body collapsed into the open arms of your now girlfriend as Harry leaned over your back.

"Why'd we wait so long to do that?" You asked once your mind cleared from the fog of your two orgasms. Laughs came from in front and behind you. Chaste kisses against whatever available skin was in their reach.

"We could always do it again, love."

#Harry Styles #Florence Pugh #Harry Styles x Reader #Florence Pugh x Reader #Harry Styles Fanfic #Florence Pugh Fanfic #Harry Styles Fanfiction #Florence Pugh Fanfiction #Fanfic #Fanfiction #W|W #Harry Styles x Florence Pugh #Writing #Mine #InTheMiddle #Harry Styles x You #Harry Styles x Y/N #Florence Pugh x You #Florence Pugh x Y/N

[bytheangell]

Superior Specimens

Flufftober Day 6: Fireman’s Carry (Read on AO3)

Alastair stands at the starting mark next to Thomas, eavesdropping on Will and Tessa who stand a short distance away.

“Did you have to make it a race? You know how these children get over competition,” Tessa says, eyeing the gathering of young Shadowhunters with obvious concern. It isn’t just Alastair and Thomas - James, Lucy, Cordelia, Matthew, and even Christopher are stretching and preparing for the timed trial they’re about to face to test their speed, strength, and endurance.

“A little competition is healthy, Tess. They’ll be fine. Won’t you, Alastair?” Will replies, obviously catching him in the act of listening in.

Alastair smirks. “I’ll be fine,” he confirms. “You may have to console a weeping Matthew after I beat him, however.”

Matthew huffs at the comment.

“You’re just afraid that after I properly annihilate your time, Thomas will realize I’m a clearly superior specimen and leave you for me,” Matthew retorts.

Alastair rolls his eyes. Thomas doesn’t react at all, whether it’s because he doesn’t hear Matthew or because he knows that ignoring Matthew is the best way to annoy him, Alastair isn’t certain.

Ever since he and Thomas made their relationship official, the Merry Thieves - Matthew included - have been surprisingly gracious about the whole thing. Alastair knows it’s more for Thomas’ benefit than his own, but he still appreciates the way they don’t at least openly hate him any longer.

Still, some of those old feelings and rivalries still linger, and right now Alastair and Matthew are reviving those in full force in the form of this trial.

When it begins, it doesn’t take long for Alastair, James, and Thomas to take an easy lead. They’re allowed to activate runes to help, but it really comes down to training and natural ability to give that extra edge.

Finally, Alastair pulls ahead after losing Thomas during a wall scaling task, except when he’s clearing the last leg of the sprint to the finish line where Will and Tessa are both waiting to mark the results his foot catches an uneven bit of ground and his ankle twists, sending him hard to the ground.

Alastair lets out a string of curses he’s glad Cordelia isn’t around to hear, and tries to stand only to wince with the slightest bit of weight put on the injured ankle. Quick to pull out his stele and draw an iratze, Alastair begins to limp his way toward the end of the course knowing it won’t heal fast enough for him to beat the others.

Sure enough, Thomas comes up behind him a moment later with Matthew not far behind.

“What’s wrong?” Thomas asks, slowing his pace to walk beside Alastair.

“Twisted it. Don’t wait for me, at least one of us should beat Matthew. Raziel knows we’ll never hear the end of it if he comes in first,” Alastair says.

Thomas hesitates, biting down on his lower lip for a second before reaching down and grabbing Alastair by the waist.

“What are you--” Alastair begins to protest when Thomas lifts Alastair and slings him over his shoulders. “Put me down!”

“Do you want to beat Matthew or not?” Thomas demands.

Alastair does. He really, really does, but at the cost of his pride? It takes a lot for him to admit he needs help on a good day, and right now he was definitely not having a particularly good day.

Thomas waits for his answer and finally, Alastair stops fighting from where he hangs draped over his boyfriend’s shoulders. He can’t see Thomas’ face but he can practically hear his smirk when he adds, “That’s what I thought,” and keeps running, carrying Thomas with him.

“Traitor!” Matthew shouts, gaining on them fast, but not fast enough. Thomas carries Alastair over the finish line mere seconds before Matthew makes it there and Matthew immediately spins to face Will.

“That’s not fair!” Matthew shouts. “There’s no way that counts. Thomas carried him! He didn’t even walk across the line”

Will looks from where Alastair is being gingerly set down on the ground by Thomas, then back at Matthew, clearly thinking over his potential ruling here.

“I’d argue that supporting each other should be encouraged,” Thomas points out.

“Encouraged, even,” Alastair adds. “Maybe even rewarded.”

“I can hardly argue against helping out your fellow Nephilim, now can I?” Will agrees. “I’ll allow it. Thomas and Alastair come in first and second, respectfully, and Matthew third. Congratulations, boys!”

“You’ll allow--” Matthew sputters. “Ridiculous. I demand a re-match.”

“Maybe next time my superior specimen of a boyfriend can carry me the entire way and still beat you,” Alastair says, no longer worried about how it might look that he was helped across the finish line.

Matthew walks away in a huff and Thomas laughs lightly before turning to face Alastair again.

“Sorry if I overstepped,” he says quietly.

“You didn’t. I’m glad you were there to help. Thanks for being there for me, even when I’m too stubborn to admit it,” Alastair says.

“So all of the time, then?” Thomas asks, trying (and failing) to keep a straight face through the at least partial joke. Instead of waiting for an answer he leans in and kissing the frown that’s beginning to form on Alastair’s lips until they curl back up into a soft smile, the kind that Thomas is infuriatingly good at coaxing out of him.

“I’ll work on it,” Alastair relents.

“Good. Now come on, let’s get something for that ankle until the iratzes kick in.”

#alastair carstairs #thomas lightwood #thomastair #tsc #the last hours #tlh #william herondale #matthew fairchild #tessa gray #elle writes a few deadbeat lines

[aegor-bamfsteel]

How long does it take to travel to King’s Landing from Dragonstone?

I wanted to focus a meta on a seemingly minor detail that, if you look into the likely circumstances surrounding it, reveals an important piece of characterization of Da3ron II that I don’t think has been discussed. AWOIAF says, regarding Da3ron’s reaction to his father’s death: “[he] departed Dragonstone within the fortnight after learning of his father's demise and was swiftly crowned by the High Septon in the Red Keep.”

If Aegon IV had died, and then Da3ron had arrived from Dragonstone and been crowned within 2 weeks (equal to a fortnight) of this death, that would’ve been understandable. However, the “and” signifies that Da3ron was crowned after the fortnight; it took within a fortnight of being told of Aegon’s death (not Aegon’s death proper, just when he heard the news) for Da3ron to pack his things and travel from Dragonstone to King’s Landing. The implication is that the journey from Dragonstone to KL takes nearly two weeks by sea. I was so puzzled at the idea that the Targaryen’s home castle was so far away from their capital (that they chose to build in that location partially because it was that close to Dragonstone) I checked the Errata of The World of Ice and Fire to see if it was a misprint in the way Myriah Martell’s name was; it was not. Da3ron took nearly two weeks after hearing of his father’s death to arrive at King’s Landing, and was “swiftly crowned” only after. Which leads me to ask, how many miles by sea does it take to travel from Dragonstone to King’s Landing?

According to a map of Westeros and assuming that it is to scale, someone worked out the distance as 420 miles/675km by sea; it is 100 miles/160km from Dragonstone to Sharp Point on the mainland, and then 320 miles/515km of traveling west along the coast to King’s Landing. It is not mentioned what type of ship Da3ron took (galley, longship, carrick, caravel, etc; all of which travel at different speeds based on how they’re built, with longships being the fastest and galleys the slowest), how experienced its crew was (although since Dragonstone is known for its navy, you’d think they would be experienced), or if the winds were favorable, so I’m going to estimate the slow, average, and fast speed of arrival from Dragonstone to KL based on the sources:

If Westeros is anything like our world and the equator is located south of Dorne, then the prevailing winds would blow from east to west (easterlies) south of the Neck and from west to east (westerlies) north of the Neck. Dragonstone and King’s Landing are located south of the Neck, so the prevailing winds would be trade winds/easterlies; in other words, Da3ron would’ve had the wind on his side leaving Dragonstone, which would’ve increased his speed by as much as 1 knot/1.15mi. Travelling at less than 4mph/3.5knots per hour generally meant a sailing ship was travelling with unfavorable winds, so we can assume Da3ron never reached below that speed.

Ideal Conditions:

Under ideal conditions (favorable winds, a skilled crew) a sailing ship could average around 6knots/6.9mph over a trip (pre-modern vessels could “sprint” up to 12 knots, but this wasn’t sustainable). This translates to 168 miles per day, assuming sailing in the day and night (which Da3ron would’ve had to do at least on the first part of his journey to Sharp Point, as he’s sailing the open ocean). 420mi/168mi/d= 2.5 days, or 60 hours at maximum speed

Assuming Da3ron took a caravel, the maximum speed of which is 9mph or 150 miles per day, it would’ve taken 420mi/150mi/d= 2.8 days, or 68 hours at maximum speed

I doubt Da3ron took a galley, considering it is a slow ship most often used for war, but non-ironborn nobility in Westeros do seem to have more of them to their name (Cersei, Stannis, Alyn Velaryon use them as flagships) than other ships, so I’ll put these numbers in to show that even at the slowest built ship Da3ron should’ve made better time. They are on average about 3/4 as fast as caravels, so at maximum might reach 6.75mph, 112mi/d, so 3.7 days or about 90 hours at maximum speed

Average conditions:

The average sailing ship could go around 5knots/5.75mph; this translates into 73 hours or 3 days 1 hour on average

Average speed for a caravel is 4.5mph or 90-100mi/day. The lower range indicates this trip would take 112 hours, or 4 days 16 hours; the upper range is 101 hours, or 4 days 7 hours on average

Average speed for a galley is about 3knots/3.45mph; this translates to about 122 hours, or about 5 days on average

Slow conditions (slowest possible with still-prevailing winds):

As explained before, going less than 3.5knots/4mph via sailing ship meant generally unfavorable winds. Assuming the absolute slowest, the ship could expect to make the trip in 105 hours or 4 days 9 hours

Using the ratio that a galley is about 3/4 the speed of a caravel, its slow speed might be 3mph, which translates into 140 hours or 5 days 20 hours

In conclusion, assuming that Da3ron did not stop at any harbors along the way and traveled at a consistent pace, he should have arrived in King’s Landing within one week, not two, of learning of Aegon’s death. Even at the slowest pace, taking the slowest method of water transport, the trip does not equal 6 full days of travel. 

It’s possible that, like Corlys Velaryon at the 101 Great Council, he brought the full Dragonstone fleet to King’s Landing to support his claim to the throne if he feared it was in danger (which makes sense in that he took so long to arrive, but was “swiftly crowned” after), but that would’ve lengthened the trip to 6 days at most (since a navy can only travel as fast as its slowest ship, the galley), and certainly not to nearly two weeks, since time is clearly of the essence in thwarting a potential coup. The idea that it took so long to prepare such a navy after hearing of Aegon’s death seems like a stretch considering the old king’s slow physical decline (see below)

A more benign argument is that after he reached Sharp Point, he did stop during the night, but assuming a night is 8 hours, that means even if he stopped every night along the journey (a ridiculously inefficient plan that practically defeats traveling by water, but to stretch out the time let’s pretend he might’ve done it) would’ve made the trip 76 hours or 3 days 4 hours at the fastest, and 172 hours or 7 days 4 hours at the slowest. Again, even at the slowest pace, with the slowest method of transportation, and now with long stops, it still would’ve taken barely more than half the time Yandel noted Da3ron actually spent to depart Dragonstone and arrive in King’s Landing. And how many days did he really need to pack his things and leave? I doubt nearly a week was really necessary...

Of course, that Da3ron might’ve taken a slower ship and stopped every night from reaching Sharp Point on ignores why he’s journeying to King’s Landing in the first place: his father just died and he is going to be crowned king, unmistakably the most important event of his life. As the crown prince, he has access to the fastest ships and most experienced crew. This is no time to stop to rest and leave the realm without a king (especially if you believe that others are plotting to take the throne, as Da3ron’s actions after arriving regarding Daemon Blackfyre and his father’s Small Council indicate). There is no technical reason why a journey that should’ve taken 3-4 days instead took nearly 2 weeks. The only possible reason for such a massive delay is a character-based one: that Da3ron did not wish to arrive in the capital so soon. Waiting that long almost undoubtedly meant he was not there for the funeral (given Aegon’s condition at death, it makes me think he was buried shortly after; in addition, the news of the death would’ve had to have reached Da3ron before he could depart, which would’ve taken 1-1.5 days by raven), which would’ve been the best opportunity to show filial piety, or at least pay respects to the old king from the perspective of a successor. Da3ron wore his father’s crown allegedly to prove his legitimacy, but the gesture seems rather empty after taking so long to come to the capital that he missed the funeral, and the coronation itself was the only event described as “swift.” It makes it seem as if he did not care for his father, purposely avoiding the capital until all mourning was done and then claiming his crown. This might have been the case given they were estranged the last years of Aegon’s life, but no matter his personal feelings, it would’ve been politically wiser if he were to come to King’s Landing as fast as he could, especially given the doubts of his legitimacy and his paranoia over claimants to the throne. The very tense succession of Viserys I to Aegon II officially took place on a single day; understandably such a short passage of time wasn’t possible in Da3ron’s case, but potential problems in a succession makes Targaryens act faster, not slower.

What makes matters worse is that Aegon’s death was obviously not sudden in the manner of Viserys II’s. TWOIAF’s description of his demise includes, “he was grossly fat, barely able to walk, and some wondered how his last mistress—Serenei of Lys, the mother of Shiera Seastar—could ever have withstood his embraces.” Serenei was Aegon’s mistress for at least a year, and undoubtedly a man who was barely able to walk does not have long to live. Toward the immediate end “his limbs [were] rotting and crawling with fleshworms”; there was even debate over this condition: “the maesters claimed they had never seen its like, whilst septons declared it a judgment of the gods” in addition to palliative care “Aegon was given milk of the poppy to dull his pain, but elsewise little could be done for him.” It seems like the final stage of Aegon’s illness could’ve taken weeks or even months, if there was time to discuss its cause and for worms to start eating his rotting limbs, or for final treatment and a damning decree to be issued. The health of the king is obviously politically important, especially to his heir, so I think it’s unlikely Da3ron wouldn’t have known about this final illness. Certainly by the time Aegon was unable to rise from his sickbed, Da3ron should’ve been able to tell the end was near; he very well could’ve reached King’s Landing before Aegon’s death, let alone before his funeral. That could have altered the course of Westerosi history if he arrived in time to contest the will that decreed all of Aegon’s illegitimate children be legitimized. 

It’s important to note that it’s never explained why Da3ron was unable to undo Aegon’s deathbed decree. The Greens were able to successfully contest Viserys I’s will that Rhaenyra succeed him and instead crown Aegon II, once they got the majority of the Small Council on their side. In real life, Henry of Blois was able to release his brother Stephen and the rest of the barons from the vows they swore to uphold Empress Matilda’s ascension to the English throne, on the grounds that her father king Henry was wrong to make them swear the oath because it would threaten the stability of the kingdom (in addition to bribing the royal steward into alleging that the old king had changed his mind about the succession and nominated Stephen instead, which at least worked for William the Conqueror regarding Edward the Confessor’s will). It would’ve been even easier for Da3ron to contest the will because Aegon was in horrific pain due to ill health and given milk of the poppy, a drug that is known to “fill one’s head with clouds”; Da3ron could’ve said that Aegon was not in his right mind when he made the will and that any deathbed decrees should be discarded. If only he had come early enough to King’s Landing to plead his case before Aegon’s death, or failing that, to try to force a reversal through the High Septon or the royal steward shortly after, things might’ve gone better for him later in his reign.

To conclude what is a much longer meta than I expected, Yandel claimed that Da3ron arrived in King’s Landing from Dragonstone within 2 weeks of hearing of his father’s death. Through estimating the speed of certain ships and the distance between the two castles, we can determine it should have taken at most 6 days and in all probability more like 3-4 days if he conducted himself with any sense of urgency. But instead, he chose to arrive so far after Aegon’s death that he probably missed his funeral, which, coupled with the haste with which he was crowned, shows a lack of respect for a deceased father that goes against the teachings of the Faith of the Seven, the moral authority of Westeros (and probably fed rumors of his illegitimacy). Even worse, the nature of Aegon’s illness was so slow that Da3ron could’ve made it to King’s Landing in time to change or contest his will if he had bothered, thus getting rid of his potential rival’s legitimization. I can only infer that Da3ron’s actions were not motivated by political necessity (and in fact could’ve hurt him politically and socially), but by hatred for his estranged father. I don’t blame Da3ron for loathing a man who abused his mother and tried to start an unprovoked war with his wife’s family. However, I don’t think the characterization of him putting political necessities above personal feelings can hold water, at least where his own are concerned (the feelings of others under his guardianship, such as those of Aerys I, and perhaps those of Princess Daenerys and Daemon Blackfyre, might be different matters). Nor do I believe that he should get a pass for making politically unwise decisions due to personal grudges when Aegor Rivers, who also had long-term vulnerabilities (disgrace at 2 weeks of age, the execution of half of his family at 6 years, invited into a court that hated his family...and that’s before the Blackfyres start getting cruelly murdered) is reduced to a one-dimensional villain for behaving similarly.

#ASoIaF #asoiaf meta #what if #anti daeron ii #worldbuilding #westeros #ships #aegon iv #aegon iv targaryen #valyrianscrolls #travel

[icyexorcist]

🥨 Unforgivable deeds Genshin men x Reader

🍙Summary: Genshin Men and Reader have an argument, reader walks out and gets into trouble, they call out their S/O name multiple times, but they don’t come and the inevitable happens with the reader passing away

🍭Notes: I sort of copied how childeluv writes their fics as in the layout, but I don’t steal other people's work

🍜Character’s Included: Xiao and Fem!Reader

Xiao-

“Where there is Anger, Pain is always underneath” - Eckhart Tolle

Xiao was a timid person by default, being an adepti had its pros and cons to it, for him the pros could be living long enough to meet you and fall in love with you, being strong enough to protect you, the cons on the other hand would be all the gore and brute force he has witnessed on the battlefield, the never-ending karma that creeps up behind him, so even he would have his bad days and today just happened to be one of them... except he’d wish it never did.

“Y/n! You wouldn’t understand, okay?!” Xiao raised his voice, irritated at you're attempts to cheer him up

“Well obviously not, including if you don’t tell me!” Screaming back, you feel just as irritated, if anything more irritated than he himself is

“I'm trying to cheer you up Xiao, I don’t see why you’re so angry about it alright!” you feel a headache build up and you know you’re going to regret it later; you just don’t understand how- no why he got angry at your attempts to cheer him up like always? He himself couldn’t quite understand what got him so irritated, maybe the fact that couldn’t save that one girl today? Maybe his karma finally caught up to him. He didn’t know and he was too blinded by rage to care either

“Have you ever thought that you might be the problem Y/n?! Well, have you? Of course, you haven’t! You know what, just leave!” He got up and walked to you beginning to shove out of your shared home, your mind began racing and before you could wrap your head around the situation you were already standing in the rain outside a locked door

“H-Hey! Xiao! Let me in its raining!” you begin pounding on the door desperately, hoping he’d snap out of his anger trance and come back to his senses

“XIAO!” With a last bang to the door, you let your hand slide down the wooden frame as you feel heavy tears slide down your face, creating a stream. Moving back, you realise he isn’t going to open the door for you, you turn to look at the wet scenery of the hill on which your house was built, it was dark, but you could see the stars as clearly as day, your white hair dancing with the wind and being soaked by the rain, it was painfully beautiful. You began trailing down the muddy path into Liyue Harbour hoping to seek shelter in a friend’s house, perhaps Mr. Zhongli’s home.

“haah hah haah” your breathing is becoming uneasy, the road was already difficult to walk on before the rain, but now it’s even harder with the fact that you must account for all the slippery spots, so you don’t fall off the side of a 200-meter cliff, But it was as if God decided to go on a break and let the Devil takeover for the time being, because as you pushed forward you spotted a Fatui Pyro Agent and A Cicin Mage ‘Just my Fvcking Luck’, sneaking past them you pray that they don’t notice you, which happens for a certain time, until the Cicin Mage turns your way staring at you with a sinister smile on her lips, as you feel a blade upon your neck, you begin crying as you get pulled by your hair to their hideout or whatever hellhole they came from to torture you at your dying moments, out of desperateness and despair you try one last time

“XIAO!”

Waking up in a cold sweat Xiao looks around the room, searching for any sign of where you could be

“Y/n~ where are you?” Xiao trails the house, ‘bathroom? No, living room? No, kitchen? No, guest room? No’ he could feel anxiety build up in him, a fear that you were gone or something worse, something he didn’t want to think of, sitting on the coach he rethinks the events that happened before he decided to rest

“Xiao! Open the door!”

“XIAO!”

Eyes wide open, he speeds to the door praying you’re still there, still there waiting for the door to open, still there may be sleeping on the step, anything as long as you were right outside that door, he could apologize to you, but opening the door with deep breathes, you were gone. He begins running down the cliff, earning a few scratches here and there, but he doesn’t mind if he is able to find you faster

“Y/N!! WHERE ARE YOU?!”

He begins shouting like a mad man, until he stops, he spots white hair leaning against a tree, sprinting to your figure, joy, ecstasy, relief all begin filling him. Whilst he enjoys the pure bliss of relief, he fails to see your polearm thrown a few feet away from your body, or the fact that there’s a red puddle surrounding you

“Y/N!! WHY DID YOU LEAVE? WHY DID YO-”

He freezes, turning to the other side of the tree he sees the full view of you, a sword pierced through your body making sure you couldn’t leave the tree, even if you somehow survived, he begins to shake, hoping and praying this is some twisted joke or dream, hoping that he’d wake up anytime soon, to your resting face Infront of his on your bed, he clamps his eyes together, and opens them... but it’s the same, he begins searching for your heartbeat, that’s what you humans do right? He put his hand on your chest hoping to feel it lightly going up and down, just like it does whenever he lies on it, but it doesn’t, he’s panicking, his hands are shaking as he cups your face, making you look up at him but your eyes are closed

“hey, y/n~, wake u-up the jokes over hun.. Please..”

He sobs, looking at you, you always woke up when he called, losing hope he pulls you in and kisses you, you always kiss back whether you want to or don’t want to, so this was his final attempt to see if you were still alive.. But when you don’t kiss back his heart shatters and he finally breaks

“im s-sorry hun, im so sorry.. Please come back I need you, y-you and me, w-we were gonna have a family r-right?”

He cries into your dead body, remembering all the dreams and hopes you had, but you were long gone so what was the point

“I promise love, ill kill who ever did this to you, I promise”

[whitewolfandthefox]

Stay With Me

This was a request sent in by @thenocturnalsyren​ I’ve cut a little bit of the prompt out because I thought it would spoil the ending, and we all know I hate doing that :P 

Prompt: Can I get a Geralt x reader? He’s tasked to escort a princess (reader) to her betrothed’s kingdom. It’s a political marriage and she doesn’t know the prince she’s set to marry. Over the course of the journey, Geralt and the reader fall in love. 

Masterlist

Add yourself to my taglist!

Words: 8k

Summary: Geralt x reader; Geralt has been tasked with escorting you to complete a business deal with another family. He thinks it will be an easy job, but little does he know, the deal isn’t what it seems to be. And you have a secret you haven’t revealed.

A/N. Sooo, I’ve sat on this one for a while, so sorry! It also got super long, I was hoping to keep it under 3k and thaaaat didn’t happen. Oops!

Stay With Me

Geralt had fallen. Hard. He hadn’t expected to enjoy this journey as much as he did when they had started out, but he also hadn’t counted on you. The Witcher normally didn’t do escort jobs, but he and Jaskier had been short on coin and it had seemed fairly easy, so he’d agreed to take it. You were fairly agreeable as well; you didn’t complain, you helped with tasks around the camp, and Roach liked you, so obviously you were good to have along. 

When the three of you had started out on your journey (Jaskier had come with you, proclaiming something about beautiful ladies being angry), you had been very quiet. The bard would try to draw you into conversations but you would just give him a small smile and deftly avoid the question or comment. Geralt had noticed this but didn’t do anything about it, figuring you were wary of the pair or perhaps that you thought yourself above them. He knew you came from a well-off family, but your title hadn’t been disclosed to them. You were travelling for a business deal, finalizing a contract between your two families. As your small group had departed in the middle of the night, the Witcher couldn’t help feeling suspicious of the true nature of the arrangement. For safety, he was told; a rival family had been after you recently, wanting the benefits of this deal for themselves. This didn’t sit right with him, but the coin was good, so he pushed the feeling aside.

After watching you for a few days, Geralt had decided you weren’t a threat. Sure, you were quiet, but you had started engaging with the pair and were always keen to help out. He shrugged before pushing you to the back of his mind, content that the next few weeks should be fairly easy and he would get decent pay out of it.

His assessment of you was shaken about two weeks into the journey. You had relaxed around them, even starting to respond to Jaskier’s gentle attempts to include you. The bard had been delighted at your responses, slowly working his way under your skin. You were funny, you had little quips that you would fire back at him followed by your clear laugh ringing through the air. Geralt had thought that maybe he would have had to keep him away from you but Jaskier had been on his best behavior, not going past any mild flirting. The Witcher had chalked it up to the fact Jaskier was respecting that Geralt was travelling with them as well, not wanting to suffer the Witcher’s silent glare he directed at the bard whenever he engaged in a tryst within earshot.

Though still wary, Geralt gradually grew to realize he enjoyed your company. Your laugh would coax a faint smile out of him; you left gentle touches on his shoulder as you passed him while setting up camp. He was astounded; normally nobles were disgusted by him, not wanting to get too close. You were different though: this was the most relaxed that Geralt had seen you since the journey had started. 

What really transformed his opinion of you was when Geralt had awoken in the middle of the night to hear you crying. You had tried to keep quiet, muffling the sounds into your blanket as you sobbed. He hadn’t moved, not wanting to let you know that he was awake to overhear your misery. This happened this next several days: Geralt waking up to hear you crying softly to yourself. He never addressed it, only making sure that a plate of food was ready for you, gently pushing it in your direction. He was met with puffy, red rimmed eyes and a wet smile, a soft murmur of thanks occasionally accompanying them.

Geralt tried to push one day, asking you about where you were traveling and the real reason behind it. He didn’t know why he cared, but something wasn’t sitting right with him, and maybe he enjoyed your company and didn’t like seeing you so sad. Obviously this wasn’t just a regular business deal; an ordinary contract wouldn’t drive you to tears nearly every night. You had dodged the questions, giving generic answers that sounded like they had been memorized, as if for a test. When he asked about the details of the business deal, you shut down. You offered him a tight smile before announcing that the group needed more wood and disappearing into the trees. Jaskier had sent a glance at the Witcher, confused by your mood. “What was that about?”

Geralt could only offer a shrug, unable to answer the bard’s question. The two continued staring at the fire, letting their sore muscles relax after the long day of travel. The quiet was broken by a sudden scream. Geralt shot to his feet, sprinting into the woods before he had consciously decided to move and cursing himself for letting you go off on your own.

As he raced through the forest, he could hear the clash of steel on steel, punctuated by shouting, the sounds of a fight reaching him through the trees. He skidded to a stop in a clearing, sword in hand. As he frantically searched the area, a flash of light alerted him to a blade swinging for his head. He spun to the side, knocking the sword away and down with his own as he came face to face with you, wild-eyed as you dropped your weapon at the sight of him. He had forgotten that you wore a sword.

The Witcher gaped at you as Jaskier came running in behind him, the stunned silence that had fallen over the clearing broken by your sobs as tears spilled from your eyes. Jaskier was quick to wrap you in an embrace, shushing you as he ran a hand soothingly through your hair, supporting you as you sagged towards the ground. Geralt didn’t relax, sharp gaze scanning the clearing in an effort to determine what had happened. His confusion rose as he saw three bodies scattered across the ground, clearly having been dispatched by a blade. 

It wasn't often that the Witcher was surprised. You were clearly competent with a sword; he couldn’t think of any other explanation for the three dead men and the bloodied blade you had dropped. Trusting Jaskier to look after you, he moved cautiously towards the men, kneeling next to the first one as he searched the body for clues that would give an indication of who had attacked you and why. As he looked at the uniform the first man was wearing, he recognized the Vaithan crest, a kingdom across the river from the one you had left. Sparing a glance at the other two, his frown grew as he saw the same uniforms adorning them. Why were Vaithan soldiers after you? Why were the royal guards getting involved in a business deal?

Investigation finished, Geralt approached the pair, drawing Jaskier’s attention as he neared. He gestured back towards your campsite, the bard understanding his silent request as he nudged you to a standing position, pulling you against himself to help support you. You stumbled along, eyes glassy as your breath hitched in short, shallow gasps. 

Reaching your things, Geralt helped Jaskier get you onto the ground, busying himself with cleaning your sword as the other man continued to soothe you before turning his attention to the fire. His mind was whirling, confused thoughts surrounding you and the reasons behind your journey. There were people after you, that was clear, but he didn’t understand why. He was just adding more wood to stoke the flames when Jaskier’s low voice broke into his thoughts. The tone that the bard had used aroused concern in him.

“Geralt, can you come take a look at this?” As the Witcher approached, Jaskier held his arm out, hand covered in blood. Geralt’s heart shot into his mouth, panicked as he rushed towards the bard, hands darting out as he searched the man for the wound he had to have sustained. 

“Geralt, Geralt! I’m fine! Geralt!” The bard was shouting at the man, slapping his hands away from his body. “It’s not mine!”

The Witcher froze as the words registered in his mind before turning his attention to you. He slowly moved to your other side, noting how your eyes were distant, chest labouring as you struggled for breath. Following Jaskier’s directions, he quickly cut away the bloodied cloth - how did he not notice this before, he should have smelled the scent of blood on you - to reveal a deep gash on the back of your upper arm. Jaskier maintained a tight grip on the wound, keeping the flow to a minimum as Geralt retrieved his healing supplies. A salve was quickly applied before stitches were put into the wound and a bandage wrapped around the arm. You were unresponsive throughout the Witcher’s ministrations, the man having to gently move you to get access to your wound. As the first stitch went in you flinched, before remaining motionless as he continued. He could hear your breaths hitching as he worked, heart pulling at your unresponsiveness.

After coaxing a sleeping potion into you, the pair put you to bed, Geralt drawing a blanket over your shoulders as a heavy feeling settled in his gut at your stillness. He listened attentively, reassured by the sound of your thumping steadily in his ears as he watched your chest rise and fall. He told himself it was because of the job: it was his responsibility to keep you safe, there was nothing else behind the concern that he felt for you.

**~*~*~*~**

You were a little groggy the next morning, not quite functioning at one hundred percent. Geralt found it fucking funny, you were normally so put together that seeing you lost was a little bit endearing. You looked like a puppy, wide eyed and pouting. He helped you throughout the day, making sure you ate breakfast, redressing your wound, and keeping you on Roach with him while Jaskier rode your horse. He kept this up throughout the next few days, even as you started being able to do things yourself. Something in his chest would soften, a tightly coiled knot tugged loose when you would smile shyly up at him and quietly thank him, and Geralt found himself doing more for you just to draw them out.

Once you had healed, he tentatively asked if you wanted to practice your swordwork. You were clearly competent (you had taken down three grown men on your own, after all) but he wanted to make see for himself. Knowing you were smaller than him and weren’t as strong, Geralt decided he would tone it down a little bit to give you a fighting chance. Little did he know that you had been trained by one of the best swordmasters in your kingdom, maybe the continent. You had been the youngest of five daughters, so your father had treated you like the son he never had. You had been allowed to run rampant, joining him on hunts and practicing swordplay. This had left you a free spirit, never content to sit through the stuffy business deals your family conducted. This was the most fun you had had in a long time. 

Without the knowledge that you were an extremely well trained swordswoman, Geralt held himself back as he faced off against you. Much to his surprise he quickly found himself on his back, your sword at his throat. Looking up to see a cocky grin on your face, clearly pleased with how quickly you had overcome him, he felt a flash of admiration and something else burn through him. The scent of pride drifted through the air towards him, pushing him over the edge. He growled low in his throat as he knocked your blade away, leaping to his feet as he grabbed for his sword, throwing himself completely into sparring as you recovered from the surprise, a feral laugh bursting out of your chest. As you held your own against him, Geralt felt proud, and a little bit excited he had finally found someone who could keep up with him.

The fight ended as Geralt twisted his blade, sending yours flying across the clearing. He was reversing it to bring to your throat, caught off guard as you launched yourself at him with a shout, wrestling him for the sword as you tackled him to the ground. The blade was quickly lost as you rolled through the grass, your breathless giggles warming Geralt’s heart. He ended up on top of you, arms on either side of your head as he supported his body over yours. You grinned up at him, chest heaving, clearly pleased with your performance. Your expression slowly changed to something else, something more intense that the Witcher couldn’t read as your scent changed. It was a pleasant mixture, light and airy, not something he normally smelt, a sharp scent mixed in that he couldn’t identify. He could hear your heart racing in your chest as you gazed up at him, lips parted as you remained relaxed beneath him.

He didn’t know what came over him as his eyes flicked down to your lips and back up before leaning down, your breath mixing with his as he got closer. Abruptly, Jaskier’s loud voice boomed through the clearing, startling the two of you as Geralt rolled to his feet, sticking a hand out to help you up. He could see a light blush dusting your cheeks as you fixed your clothes, refusing to look at him. Disappointment and embarrassment drifted through the air, confusing the Witcher before he shook himself, turning to see a slightly inebriated bard stumbling through the trees. Your attention was quickly taken as you fussed over Jaskier, forcing water and some herbs into him before you put him to bed. As you did this, Geralt kept catching the glances you sent his way, charged with something that he couldn’t identify. 

As the days went on, you relaxed further with the two, starting to show physical affection to the both of them. Jaskier was given playful swats whenever he would tease you, accompanied by your laugh as you quipped something back at him. Geralt found he wanted to see the smiles sent his way, rather than the bard’s, though he was not without your attention. You gifted the Witcher with gentle lingering touches, your hand resting on his shoulder or his arm as you would slip past him. Sometimes, you would cajole the man to sit in front of you as you carefully brushed and braided his hair, working loose the tangles formed during one of your sparring sessions or a hunt. 

You were still being hunted, but now that Geralt knew it was Vaithan soldiers after you it was easy to evade them. He had worked with them before, so he was familiar with their patrol patterns and tracking methods. He would lay false trails for them, sending them on wild goose chases through the wilderness. Occasionally they would catch up to the small group, but between you and Geralt they were quickly dispatched. The aftermath was filled with gentle touches from you or the Witcher, the other sitting quietly through their ministrations. There were no serious wounds; the two of you quickly learned each other’s fighting styles and adapted to complement each other. Often there were no wounds to be found, just sore muscles to be attended to. 

As you got more comfortable in the Witcher’s presence, you started teasing him as well. Nicknames like ‘the big bad wolf’ or ‘big bad witcher’ started to be commonplace in your vocabulary. He would tease you back, calling you ‘flower’ or ‘little duck’. If he was particularly annoyed with you, ‘princess’ would appear. You had flinched the first time he called you that, before firing back a particularly clever quip, drawing Jaskier in as well. You didn’t flinch the second time, but Geralt didn’t often use that nickname, sensing there was something else behind it.

When you were close to towns Jaskier started finding reasons to leave the two of you alone. It was awkward at first, but you quickly fell into a rhythm. There was a lot of teasing that slowly fell into a companionable silence, which you sometimes filled with your chatter. It often ended with you tucked into Geralt’s side, tracing patterns into his knee as you stared at the fire. His fingers would fidget, tapping different rhythms onto your skin. It was nice, Geralt thought, having someone to share the silence with. Jaskier never shut up, but he was also just a friend. You, you were different, maybe more than a friend. As he came to this realization, he looked down to find you staring up at him, emotion swimming in your eyes. 

The air felt charged, as if he was being drawn to you. The world stopped as he drowned in your eyes, pulled into their Y/E/C depths as he slowly leaned down, your eyes fluttering shut but not releasing him from their spell as he pressed his lips against yours, breath mingling as you sighed into him. You shifted, turning your body into him as one hand found his chest while the other fisted into his hair. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you towards him. You went willingly, allowing yourself to be moved so that you were straddling his thighs, leaning into his chest as your lips moved against his. He only pulled back when he needed air, your chest heaving as you leaned your forehead against him. He opened his eyes to see a smile, face serene as you caught your breath. As if you felt his gaze on you your eyes opened to meet his. He felt as if he was caught within your gaze, peace filling him, feeling as if he was finally able to get air after drowning for so long. 

You giggled as you lay your head on his chest, draping yourself against him. “This is nice,” you murmured, wrapping your arms around his middle as you went boneless against him. 

Geralt hummed in agreement, liking the warm feeling that came over him at the feeling of your body on his. He tightened his arms around your waist, holding you close. He could smell your pleasure drifting through the air, encouraging him to nuzzle into your hair.

“I wish I could stay like this forever, in this moment with you.” You pulled back slightly, looking at the man with a genuine expression on your face. “I really do care for you, Geralt. Thank you.”

Your hand came up to cup his cheek and he leaned into it, keeping his eyes on you. His lips quirked upwards before he leaned forward, capturing your lips again. This kiss was messy, a battle of tongue and teeth as he nipped your bottom lip, exploring your mouth with his tongue when you gasped at the sensation. His hands roamed downwards, finding a place on your ass as you moaned into his mouth. He swallowed the sounds, chasing you until one of your hands tangled itself into his hair, pulling on the strands. He growled at the feeling, kissing and nipping down your neck as you gasped, grinding down on him. 

You tilted your head back, granting him better access to your throat. A rush of adrenaline ran through him at that motion; he didn’t want you baring your throat for any other man, you were his. Overcome by the desire to claim, he bit down on tender, supple skin, sucking a mark into the hollow above your collarbone. You yelped at the action, tugging at his hair again. Your breath stuttered as you managed to gasp his name, “Ger- Geralt, I can’t.”

He growled again, pleased that he had reduced you to this. He moved to your other side, biting at your shoulder, groaning as you jerked against him. “Geralt, stop, please-”

At the sound of your pleading voice, some sort of warning went off, forcing him to think rather than acting on his baser instincts. He drew back, pausing at the look on your face. He couldn’t smell the bitter scent of fear, but you looked nervous. You were flushed, lips swollen from his attention, but your eyes held a hidden emotion. Frowning, he ran a hand through your hair as you refused to meet his gaze. “I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean - Sorry, I just-”

He halted your stuttering as he pressed a chaste kiss against your lips, knot loosening in his chest as you melted against him, returning the kiss fiercely. “No, I’m sorry, I didn’t ask. Forgive me, little duck.”

You smiled before tucking your face into the crook of his neck. “I do- want to- I just, I’ve never...” Again, he shushed you, one hand rubbing patterns into your back as the other tightened around your waist.

“I have all the time in the world for you. We’ll take it slow.”

**~*~*~*~**

After that night, you were much more tactile with the Witcher. Most nights found you in his lap, relaxing into his embrace as you wildly told a story from your childhood, Jaskier in stitches next to you. You started pulling your bedroll closer to his, inching it closer night by night. The bard had finally had enough of your bullshit, marching over and picking up your bedroll only to lay it next to Geralt’s as he shot a knowing look at the two of you. You had blushed at that, refusing to look at either man for a little while. You hadn’t moved it back though, and the next morning you had woken up with your legs tangled in Geralt’s, head on his chest as he held you tucked against him. 

You stole kisses from him throughout the day, leaving gentle touches on his arms as you passed him. You let Jaskier ride your horse, choosing instead to stay with Geralt, enjoying the feeling of his arms wrapped around you as you travelled. You continued your training bouts, though they often ended in fierce makeout sessions rather than actual fighting. It was a good life, and you were happy with what you had. You could almost forget about your destination, about the actual reason for your travelling, the one that neither man knew about.

Almost.

**~*~*~*~**

As the small trio got closer to their destination, you grew tenser and quieter, shrinking into yourself as you withdrew from the pair. Jaskier tried to draw you out of your shell, but his best attempts weren’t enough. Geralt pressed you, trying to understand why you were suddenly pulling away, frustrated at the lack of response. One night, when Jaskier had left the two of you alone, Geralt confronted you about what was happening.

“Y/N, I don’t understand. What’s wrong?” Geralt had knelt in front of you, effectively trapping you as you would have had to step over and around him to escape. You couldn’t meet his gaze as you responded.

“Nothing is wrong, Geralt, I am merely preparing for when I meet my betrothed.” At your words, it felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over the Witcher, dousing him in the reality of your situation. He had forgotten you were a noble, seeming to enjoy playing games with those you considered beneath you. And play you had, leading Geralt on as he escorted you to your marriage. You weren’t any different than the rest of them.

“Your betrothed.” He saw you flinch at his flat tone, face dropping as you realized your misstep. “I see. This was all just a game to you, something to keep your mind occupied while we travelled.” 

Geralt stood, turning his back to and walking away. He closed his eyes at your sharp inhale, could hear your heart rate increase as you stumbled to your feet, chasing after him. “I will get you to your destination, and then after that I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Geralt, no, it’s not like that, you don’t understand- I would never-” He shrugged your hand off as you reached for his arm, turning to face you with a look of rage on his face. You recoiled at that action, face shocked as you pulled your hand to your chest. His heart sunk at the fear on your face, he could smell the acrid scent diffusing into the air, but he pushed it to the back of his mind. He wouldn’t let you continue with this little game.

“What don’t I understand, princess?” he near-snarled, sneering when you flinched at the nickname. “I think it’s pretty straightforward. I was supposed to be escorting you to your wedding, and you’ve played my heart. I lo--I cared for you, I let you in. I don’t do that, never do that. But I did for you and you played me like a fucking string. Well, I thank you, princess, for illuminating that fact for me. I will make sure to never do this again.”

He turned away, fist clenching at his side as he controlled himself. He started walking away from you, pausing as he heard you let out a sob and fall to the ground, voice breaking as you screamed at him. “That’s what you don’t understand, that fucking nickname! It’s haunted me my entire life, and you were the only one who saw it for what it was, a nickname, not my fucking title!”

His heart clenched at the heartbreak clear in your voice. He closed his eyes, inhaling deepling through his nose as he fought to keep himself from running to you, wanting nothing more than to take the agony out of your voice. Cautiously, he glanced over his shoulder, seeing you on your knees, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Princess,” you spat, a vicious expression on your face. “I never wanted to be a princess, I hated being a princess. I forgot, Geralt, you let me forget that that’s what I was! I could be normal with you, you and Jaskier, who didn’t care about the pomp and celebration. You wanted nothing from me. I could let my guard down around you and just be myself! I didn’t, I don’t want this marriage, it’s the last thing I would do if I had the choice! But I’ll never escape it, Geralt, they will chase me down and lock me away, dress me up in fancy clothes and keep me a prisoner in that damn castle. I only want to stay with you.”

Your voice broke on the last word as sobs ripped their way out of your throat, finally releasing the misery and anguish that had been building up over the last few weeks. Geralt was left reeling; you were a princess? Fuck, that explained so much. He had known there was more to this business deal than what it appeared to be: this was a political marriage. You clearly didn’t want it, not that you seemed to have a choice. Geralt was torn: you had lied to him, yes, but it was clear you hadn’t wanted to or done it with any ill intentions. He hung his head, trying to figure out what he wanted to do. You sounded so miserable, all he wanted to do was wrap you up in his arms and protect you from the hardships of the world.

He cautiously approached you, heart breaking at the gut wrenching sobs that were being torn from your chest. He slowly knelt in front of you, reaching a hand out to place under your chin, drawing your gaze up to his. You met his eyes and Geralt could see the pain that was swimming behind your irises. His voice was soft when he spoke, though still reserved. “I believe you.”

At his words, you launched yourself forwards, catching him off guard as your momentum pushed him backwards to land on his backside, you clutched to his chest. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you babbled, words streaming out of you as you clutched at his clothing, trying desperately to get as close as you could.

He shushed you, arms pulling you closer as he tucked your head beneath his chin. He slowly rocked you, listening to the sound of your heartbeat as he examined his memories of the last few weeks, finding only fondness and warmth; he couldn’t find anything that would suggest you were doing this to hurt him. He could hear your laugh in his ears and it sounded genuine. The sobs that were forcing their way out of you were undoubtedly real, and Geralt found he didn’t want you to hurt anymore, only wanting to protect you. He dropped a kiss on the top of your head, hand releasing you to rub patterns into your back, soothing you as he continued his gentle circling motion. 

You quieted after several minutes, hiccuping as you tried to pull away. Geralt held on a moment longer, tightening his grip before rearranging you so that you were seated sideways in his lap, legs draped over his thigh as your shoulder rested against his chest. He held you loosely, arms draped around your waist as he waited for you to speak. “I’m sorry, Geralt, that I didn’t tell you the truth. I’ll understand if you want me to finish this journey by myself, if you don’t want to see me again. I’ll still give you your coin, you’ve escorted me most of the way there.”

Geralt was stunned; that was the last thing he had expected you to say. As the meaning of the words registered, he found that he didn’t want to leave you, that he didn’t want to say goodbye. It was a new feeling, a knot loosened in his chest as something pleasant warmed him from his toes up to his head. He tightened his grip on you, drawing a squeak as he growled, “I’m not letting you go anywhere, little duck.”

Your breath hitched as you stared up at him, puffy eyes filled with hope. “You don’t hate me?” Your voice was small, hesitant as you spoke.

The Witcher looked down at you, hand reaching up to brush a strand of your hair behind your ear. Leaning down, he brushed his lips against yours, smiling when you sighed into his mouth and melted into his chest. Your hands came up to fist into his shirt, just resting against him. He drew away slowly, hesitant to see the look in your eyes. One of your hands came up to cup his cheek, and he instinctively turned his face into the warmth, nuzzling your palm as he pressed into the touch. You smiled up at him, eyes soft as a whispered “thank you” fell from your lips. You curled into him, hands back on his chest as you slowly drifted, Geralt holding you against him as you fell asleep. 

This was how Jaskier found the two of you a while later, a soft smile appearing on his face. When he opened his mouth to say something, Geralt growled at him. “Not a word, bard.”

Jaskier held his hands up in surrender, turning away to set up his bedroll with a smirk on his face.

**~*~*~*~**

The next two days were sad but gentle, the two of you trying to steal away as many moments together as you could before you had to leave. The Witcher had suggested not delivering you to the castle, but you had smiled sadly as you shook your head. Reaching up to run your fingers down his cheek, you had explained that you had tried to run away before, only to be hunted down and returned to your parents. After that, you hadn’t been allowed to be alone, always having a servant or guard watching you to make sure you stayed. Even before you left, your mother had warned you that if you didn’t uphold your end of the marriage, you wouldn’t have a moment of peace; you would be hunted until you were found and returned to your betrothed’s side. 

As the castle came into view, you requested a brief respite. Geralt had frowned at you as you untied a bag from your saddle, but you only offered him a tight smile before slipping into the woods. Jaskier had glanced over at the Witcher, a question on his lips, but Geralt had only shrugged, an expression that said I’m just as confused as you are on his face. It had been several minutes since you had disappeared, and Geralt shifting nervously as you still didn’t reappear. He had just made up his mind, dismounting to go after you when you appeared in the trees, the sight of you making Geralt’s heart stop.

You had changed out of your travelling clothes into a magnificent dress. The dress itself was made out of fine silk, the colour complimenting your Y/E/C eyes. It fell to your ankles, soft slippers peeking out from beneath the hem. Your sleeves ended just past your elbows, fine lace forming a ruffle along the ends. The collar draped across your chest, sleeves just off your shoulders as two thin straps covered in jewels connected behind your chest. Your hair was piled high on your head, a silver crown resting in the plaits.

Geralt realized he was staring when you blushed, looking up at him from beneath your lashes. “Do I look okay?” you asked demurely, shy now that your travelling companions saw you for who you really were.

“Do you look- Darling, you look amazing! That colour really suits you, it's no wonder Geralt is- ow!” The bard cut himself off as one of the Witcher’s hands shot out to smack him upside the head. Jaskier muttered to himself as he rubbed at the irritated spot, cursing Witchers under his breath. Geralt approached you, hands reaching for yours as he gazed down at you, the warm feeling he so often in your presence felt bubbling up inside him once more. You wouldn’t meet his eyes, so he reached out and lifted your chin, admiring you the whole while.

“You look beautiful,” he murmured, the corners of his lips turning up as you blushed once more. You fingers tightened on his before you let go, retreating back to your horse. Mounting, you settled yourself with your skirts hitched to your knees, ignoring the wolf whistle the bard let out at the sight. “Fuck off, I hate riding side saddle.”

Geralt grinned at that, before realizing what this meant. You were to be parted soon, sold off like property in order to further your kingdom’s advances. He understood your reasons, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. A silence fell over the group as Geralt followed your lead, remounting Roach before falling in behind you. 

As you rode up to the gates, Geralt watched your posture change. The laid back traveller was quickly replaced by the royal princess, back straightening as you held your head high. You no longer looked around to admire the sights, looking straight ahead as you ignored the merchants passing you on the road. You didn’t acknowledge the guards who stopped your progress, allowing Jaskier to announce you when they inquired. Your small group was quickly led to an antechamber, Geralt insisting that he wait with you in order to see the contract completed. 

As the door closed behind the soldier, your posture slumped, tears coming to your eyes. Geralt was quick to cross the room, kneeling in front of you as you collapsed into a chair, blinking up at the ceiling to stop yourself from crying. He rested a hand on yours, intertwining your fingers as he squeezed, offering silent support. Jaskier did the same, perching himself on the arm of your chair, hand squeezing your shoulder to remind you he was there. 

You composed yourself as the door opened, standing to meet the page that entered. He bowed deeply before gesturing that you should follow him. You took a moment, straightening your back as you fussed with your dress before stepping forward, any hint of hesitation or reluctance gone from your posture. Geralt and Jaskier followed at your sides, a somber feeling overcoming the party. Jaskier looked close to being in tears, having gotten close to you over the journey. Geralt felt much the same, not wanting to let you go but understanding he had to.

His heart clenched as the double doors in front of their party opened, revealing the throne room to them. There were two people sat on the thrones perched on the dais, with a small group of people standing below. They turned at the sound of the doors

 The page announced “Her Royal Highness, Princess Y/N of Tairis” before bowing as you swept into the room. 

Geralt almost stumbled as he spotted the prince approaching you, a sharp feeling flaring in his chest before he shoved it down. Was that…. It couldn’t be. He was brought back to the present as you curtsied, holding your hand out to the prince to kiss as he bent over it. “Prince Raleigh, it’s so good to finally meet you,” you murmured, a fake smile pasted on your face.

The prince answered you, but Geralt didn’t hear it as the world halted around him, the prince’s name pulling a memory from deep within him. As he stared at the young man, he could see that the prince wasn’t happy with this arrangement either, he could smell the fear and reluctance wafting through the air. Hope bubbling up in his chest. Geralt waited as you completed your greetings before striding over to the prince, bowing in greeting.

“Geralt!” the man exclaimed, a genuine smile appearing on his face. “How are you? It’s been what, three years since I last saw you?”

“That is has been,” Geralt rumbled, pleased that the prince was still the happy young man underneath the layers of formality. “But if I may have a word with you, Prince Raleigh? Privately?”

“Of course, of course! Anything for you, my good Witcher,” the prince was quick to lead him to an office as he ignored the half-hearted protests from his staff. As he closed the door behind him, he turned to face Geralt, face dropping as he continued. “It’s felt like it's been longer than three years since we last saw each other, my friend. And as much as I am glad to see you again, our meeting is tainted by your contract. I wish you had just come to visit.”

Geralt’s eyebrows rose at the prince’s bluntness, struggling to keep the hope that flared in his chest from showing on his face. “Oh? You weren’t looking forward to meeting your betrothed?”

The words tasted bitter on his tongue, but he kept his face neutral, not wanting to give anything away. The prince made a face at his question, leaning against the desk in the middle of the room as he crossed his arms across his chest. “I wasn’t aware that she was even my betrothed before yesterday. Apparently it was a deal our parents had made when we were young, and they ‘forgot’ to mention it to me.” The last sentence was accompanied by air quotes, the tone overly sarcastic.

The prince pushed off of the desk, walking over to gaze out the window as he continued. “I had hoped to court someone else, to have had the chance to explore, marry for love, maybe. She’s beautiful, she just makes my heart sing.” He glanced over at Geralt as the Witcher moved to join him. He grinned wryly, “But it was not to be, eh?”

“What if it was?” Raleigh shot Geralt a sharp look at his question. Turning fully to look at him, the prince narrowed eyes, “What do you mean by that?”

“Do you remember how we met, prince?” Geralt walked over to the desk, picking up a quill from the surface and toying with it. “How I saved your life?”

“Yes, and then when I asked what you wanted in return you said…” as he trailed off, Raleigh turned to look at the Witcher, realization dawning on his face as what Geralt was suggesting became apparent. ‘You would claim-” he cut himself off, not wanting to voice the hope that was slowly wafting through the room. 

Geralt nodded, keeping his gaze on the prince. “I would, I- I love her.”

The prince grinned at his admission, hope flaring in his eyes. “Well then, my dear Witcher, let’s go turn that fucking room on it’s head. Lead the way.”

Returning to the room, the two men found two groups of people waiting; the royals murmuring amongst themselves as Jaskier and Y/N waited on the other side of the room, sending anxious glances towards the office. The prince bounced over to the group, a brilliant smile on his face. His parents looked at him warily, the group dispersing as you and Jaskier made your way over to join them. The prince made a grand bow as he stopped in front of the king and queen, flourishing as he stood. “Mother, Father, Sir Geralt has something he would like to say.”

The Witcher stepped up beside the prince, meeting the royals’ gazes. In a low voice, Geralt spoke the line he had been angling for ever since he saw your betrothed. “I claim the Law of Surprise that Prince Raleigh owes me, in return for saving his life.”

He ignored the sharp inhale that came from the queen as she realized where he was going with this. “I claim that which the prince possesses but does not know: I claim Princess Y/N.”

As he spoke that damning sentence, he turned to you, watched the surprise flit over your face before you settled on hope, your eyes shining as you realized what he had done. As conversation burst out behind him, Prince Raleigh shouting over his parents to make himself heard, he only had eyes for you. His gaze roamed over your face, taking in all of the little details he hadn’t let himself notice since you had revealed your secret. He could see the tension draining out of your shoulders as he stepped closer to you, unshed tears shining in your brilliant eyes. He could smell your hope, your happiness drifting through the air towards him as you dared to allow yourself the thought that this may end up the way you wanted it to. 

As he took another step towards you, your expression broke as you rushed towards him, jumping into his arms as he pulled you against him, tangling his hand in your hair as his other wrapped around your waist, holding you to his chest. He looked down at you, saw the happiness shining in your gaze as you stared back before he lowered his head, capturing your lips with his as he swallowed your sigh. Pulling back, he rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he basked in your scent. 

Feeling a hand on his arm, Geralt opened his eyes and looked to the side to see Jaskier standing there, a huge grin on his face. You laughed quietly, reaching an arm out to tug the bard into the hug, clinging to both him and Geralt as he wrapped you in his arms, pulling the Witcher back in when he tried to pull away. The larger man grumbled under his breath but let himself be squished into the embrace. As silence fell, the three of you pulled away to see the rest of the people in the room staring at you. The king and his advisors all had impassive expressions while the queen and Prince Raleigh were looking at the three of you softly. 

The king opened his mouth to say something but was stopped by a hand on his arm. The queen smiled gently at him before turning her gaze to you. Geralt felt you shift nervously beneath his arm, could smell your anxiety as you waited for the answer to the Witcher’s claim. He could hear your heart racing, its rhythm picking up as the queen smiled, stepping forward as she gestured for you to do the same. She took your hands as you approached her, before pulling you in for a hug. Geralt could hear her whispered words, meant only for you. “I wish you all of the best, dear. As much as I wish you could join our family, I realize now that you’ve found your place in life.”

You let out a sob, gripping the woman tighter as you mumbled thank yous. She shushed you, running a hand down your back as she pulled away, smiling down at you, reaching up to brush the tears from your cheeks. She looked at Geralt, holding out a hand to him. The Witcher was quick to join her, placing his larger hand in hers. She smiled up at him, “Take care of her, she is a precious gift.”

“Of course,” he replied, taking your hand in his other, squeezing your fingers as he smiled down at you. You looked back, beaming up at him, adoration clear in your eyes.

The queen moved behind you two, placing her hands on your shoulders as she announced, “The Law of Surprise has been claimed! And I acknowledge it. Princess Y/N satisfies the Witcher Geralt’s claim, as destiny proclaims.”

Prince Raleigh cheered at his mother’s proclamation as Geralt tucked you back into him. The queen turned around in response to your questioning hand. “Would you- would it be possible for you to- my parents-” you stuttered, adoration filling Geralt’s heart as your royal demeanor fell away. 

“It’s no problem, child, what would you like?” The queen took your hand between both of hers, you calming at her touch. You took a deep breath, reaching up to pull the crown from your hair before handing it to her. Geralt felt like his heart might burst, understanding the silent symbolism of shedding your royal duties. 

“Of course, I will send this back to your parents and let them know what has come of you. Now go, child, enjoy your new life.” You relaxed at her words, at the finality of her taking your crown. You thanked her before turning back to Geralt, tugging on his hand as you left the throne room, leaving your old life behind. Jaskier quickly followed you, face breaking out into a brilliant grin as the three of you rode out of the gates. Your laughter filled the air, lifting Geralt’s heart at the sound. You left the castle, Geralt taking a moment to stop and ponder it. When they had entered earlier that day, silence and misery had been all that had accompanied; now that you were leaving with him, his soul felt lighter, heart happy as you took your rightful place by his side.

Later that night, Geralt watched you with a fond gaze as you gleefully burnt your dress, severing that last link to your life that you had. As you looked up, you met his gaze over the fire. Seeing the sheer happiness and joy that was on your face felt like the most important thing in the world to him, he wouldn’t have changed anything in the world. As you finished poking at the fabric, you came over to him, dropping a kiss on his hair as you sat down, tucking yourself under his arm. He pulled you closer to him, lacing his free hand with yours as he relaxed, leaning his chin on your head as he inhaled your scent. He felt comforted, happy, now that he had you with him. 

He settled further into the grass, pulling you down as he lay back. You let out a soft noise that sparked a warm heat in the middle of his chest, prompting him to roll onto his side, tugging you closer so that your legs tangled with his as you pressed your nose into his chest, relaxing into his warmth. He murmured soft nonsense into your hair as you drifted, going limbless against him. Geralt sighed as you babbled in your sleep, relaxing as he let himself drift off to sleep alongside you.

**~*~*~*~**

Add yourself to my taglist!

@riviawitch3r / @scarlettwitcher / @ayamenimthiriel / @uncoolcloudyhead / @secretsthathauntus / @vintage-mind-young-body / @creamysacrilege / @hina-chans-stuff / @bastardfruitsandbasil / @shewritesinthethirdperson / @widowvinter / @unnamedmaincharacter​ / @thenocturnalsyren​ / @loudlycolorfulkryptonite​ / @whatawildone / @geraltmrwitcher / @psychosupernatural / @chickennooget69 / @just-antiyou / @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot / @onlyhenrys / @l-km07 / @iloveyouyen / @itsemmyb / @iloveyouyen / @persephonehemingway

#the witcher #netflix the witcher #the witcher netflix #the witcher fandom #the witcher fanfiction #geralt #geralt of rivia #jaskier #reader insert #self insert #geralt x reader #geralt x reader insert #geralt x you #geralt x yn #geralt x y/n #geralt fic #geralt fanfic #geralt fanfiction #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x reader insert #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia x yn #geralt of rivia x y/n #geralt of rivia fic #geralt of rivia fanfic #geralt of rivia fanfiction #the witcher fic #the witcher fanfic #geralt/reader #geralt/reader insert

[mercurygray]

Going back through several weeks of Thirsty Thursday prompts made me I realize that I never did post the start of the Soulmates AU here on Tumblr.

For those of you just joining the program, I started vamping on the idea of a universe in which you and your soulmate share all physical senses (I.E pain, heat, pleasure, etc…) and expanded it to include a little bit of the emotional spectrum as well.

And it’s Dick and Joan, of course, because what other two emotionally buttoned up idiots am I going to do this with?

---

It's an expectation, as you get older, that the shared feelings will become more distinct.

As a child, bumps and bruises come and go with surprising ease - the sudden pain of not being picked for a team may briefly flash in your mind, and then just as quickly disappear. That's your soulmate, Mother or Father will explain. They're sharing that with you.

Adolescence is just a whole tangle of everything, all the time, and no sane person could ever tell who belonged to what, or what started where, and around about eighteen, when hormones start leveling out and you're in possession of more of your thinking mind, that's really when it starts.

Dick is nineteen and in his college dorm when he feels the slow creep of fire. Not in a literal sense - but more...metaphorically, as though someone, somewhere, is being...aroused, and he knows: this is his someone. (It sure as hell isn't him - trig isn't that exciting.)  It's like overhearing the couple in the library stacks, trying not to be noisy as they make out - except he's not hearing it, he's feeling it - the lips in his ear, the hands on his ass, the hot press of body against body. Damn impossible to read a book like this, honestly - it's so overwhelming he actually has to close his eyes and lay the book aside so he can simply...listen.

He knows this is a somewhat old-fashioned view, that all the modern philosophers say this soulmate bunk is something you should try to free yourself from, that you should allow yourself some time to experiment, that there are drugs nowadays to tone some of this feeling transmission down so we can all live normal lives. But he can't quite bring himself to do any of that. There's something comforting in the idea that one day, hopefully, he'll meet this person.

Obviously the someone doesn't hold the same view. Well.

Eventually the feeling subsides - he's allowed to return to trig feeling very pink and a little pleasant. Next Friday there's more of the same - hotter, heavier. This has stopped being the couple in the library and started being the roommate in the next bed - in his bed, even! - and his body is responding in all the usual ways. (Who the hell has time for Shakespeare at a time like this?) He has to throw an arm across his face to keep from crying out. There's a certain kind of jealousy in it - This is his someone, his soulmate, and someone else is...enjoying them. (And they are enjoying being enjoyed - or he wouldn't be hearing about it in every fiber of his being, including, mostly, the very sensitive bits between his legs.)

This  sort of thing becomes a frighteningly regular occurrence, after this - his someone is clearly a popular character. He learns how they feel rejection, the subtle undercurrents of never feeling like they are quite enough. (How could they not be good enough? He’s run every mile with them, sprinted past every finish line.)

At Toccoa, as he watches Marjorie Gordon land a punch on Joan Warren, and feels her knuckles dig into his side, knock the wind out of him, he quickly turns away to catch his breath - and when he feels her anger nearly erupt at Sobel, the same anger that he himself feels, he is gone - he is hers, body and soul. For years he has shared every one of her victories and defeats, and he knew even before he saw her she was beautiful - but she is his soldier, and this can’t be the time for this.

---

It's like tuning a radio, looking for the exact frequency. Sometimes it's frighteningly clear, and others, hazy and indirect, wavering in and out like a station that's just beyond reach.

She's almost pretty convinced she doesn't have a soulmate, the way her friends go on about it. That, or this person's got the most iron-clad control on their emotions ever.

(There was one time, in college, where she was sitting in chapel and had the sudden, hot flush of being had, which was the very devil to sit in silence with for what seemed an agony of minutes in church. But she could well have imagined that - a leftover from the night before with Paul.)

There's a four month stint, just before she goes to bootcamp, where every day has a vague feeling of exhaustion, interspersed every day with vague annoyance, but that could be anything.  Half the country’s in the army and it wouldn’t surprise her in the slightest if her someone is as well. She's too tired during boot camp to try and riddle out what this person is feeling, too. It'll come, in time. She hopes.

OCS, however, is a challenge, because it seems like every day there's a new tidal wave she's realizing she doesn't want to unleash on this someone else who's still lingering just out of reach. When one of the other candidates corners her after PT, humping her into a wall, there's nothing she can do about the intense feeling of shame and inadequacy that follows - you can't handle one cock in a locker room, how are you going to handle a company of soldiers, huh? Her mother was right - no one's going to want her when this is over with.

In her bed that night, she feels...something like reassurance, a warmth in her shoulders. I'll want you, it says. I'll always want you, no matter what. There is a tentative touch, a certain Do you want -  she doesn’t. It stops immediately. But she goes to bed wrapped in that assurance, hoping that the gratitude she feels goes back to them.

It takes another year, and a bullet to the ankle in Carentan, to make her realize who it is who has been saying all of this, has been sending her messages in the dark.

#fun with dick and joan #i have written a thing #soulmates au #joan warren #mercurygraypresents

[forkanna]

[AO3] [WATTPAD] [QUOTEV]

NOTES: Some nominal amount of smut ahead, and minor character death. NSFW. And, of course, Elsanna.

A small belated gift for Princess Anna's 194th birthday! Thanks to scuttlepantsworld and Aether_nb for helping to make this possible – or for giving me proper motivation and a prod in the right direction, at least. Commissions are still open at this time!

Yes, I know. It's been a thousand years to the day since chapter four was released. For the longest time, I vacillated between wanting to add to it and insisting the story was over; to be honest, I had never intended to write more than one chapter! But deep down, I knew the work was always unfinished. So the time has come to wrap it up and put it to bed forever. My writing style has changed in the years since, so I can only hope this manages to recapture the magic for those fans who have been waiting. And for the gawkers that just want a laugh… well, stay tuned for the epilogue, I guess.

Min Søsters Kjeder: Anna

Well, that didn't work out so great.

My heart felt like it was crystallising as Kristoff helped me to my feet just in front of the grand ice doors of my sister's palace. So Elsa had rejected me. Again. She cast me out into the cold she created because she didn't think I could handle the "new Elsa" — that she had apparently been suppressing for years and years. Maybe our whole lives. As usual, pathetic little Princess Anna just wasn't worth clueing in on all the fine details. No matter how much headway we make, no matter how many walls and doors I try to knock down, she summons new ones of glittering sub-zero moisture to stand in our way.

"Hey, we should do something about this."

"About what?" I asked distantly, still staring up at the shimmering ice slide that had deposited us where we were currently crouched, breath fogging on the air. "I really don't think she's gonna let me in again. Not anytime soon. She's stubborn like that sometimes." Like I wasn't stubborn.

"Your hair." I looked up into his concerned eyes as he reached up with a gloved hand, batting at the newly-whitened hairs of my fringe. "It's… I can tell what this is, Anna. I've seen it before."

My brow furrowed. "What… Kristoff, what are you talking about, you've seen this? Am I the only one in the dark around here about ice magic?!"

Now he looked a little uncomfortable. And I took full advantage — by storming for the staircase again. Obviously I slipped right back down, but that didn't stop me from grunting and growling, trying to claw my way up the perfectly slick surface.

"What are you doing?" he asked in a weary tone.

"Going… to see… my sister!" I grunted, before falling on my butt.

"Huh," Olaf put in. "Maybe you know something I don't, but that doesn't seem to be working out so great for you."

"OOF! Are you guys gonna help me up there or not?!"

But we never had a chance for them to give me a boost. My new friend and my old snowman — or our old snowman, I suppose — were too busy gasping in horror. It took me a little longer than it should have before I turned to see the towering snow-giant, menacing-yet-soft features glaring down at us.

"Oh. Not… I guess."

                                                                ~ o ~

My life became a series of rude awakenings after that. They made me miss doors in my face; at least those weren't dangerous and scary.

First, we got thrown out of the palace by my sister's new snow-beast. And that wasn't nice. Then Kristoff had the bright idea that he should take me to see his "love expert" friends — who turned out to be his family. Even worse rude awakening, because I had never met any magical beings that weren't my sister or the semi-frozen creations she seemed to whip up without even thinking about it. TROLLS. Real, live, rocky, mossy trolls! And on top of that, they decided I was about to marry Kristoff, because… I don't actually know! They just decided! Wow, were they eccentric, and a little annoying.

But they were the ones that sent me back to Elsa's palace. See, their king — maybe he was a sage, or a bishop? — explained that because my sister's magic had crept its way into my heart, even though I wasn't sure how or when, that there was nothing he could do. Only an act of true love could thaw a frozen heart.

And there was only one person I loved. Sure, Kristoff was okay, and Hans loved me, and Olaf and Sven were buddies. Nothing wrong with friendship! But there was a queen in my life that I felt such a deep level of love for that no force on Earth could break it, and I knew she felt the same for me. Even if she wasn't always good at showing it. So if I was going to get defrosted from anybody, I was definitely going to go with the prime candidate.

Problem was…

                                                                ~ o ~

"I can't believe she was gone!"

"These tracks will lead us straight to her," Kristoff reassured me for what was probably the twelfth time as we galloped toward Arendelle. "Don't worry, I'll get you to Queen Elsa!"

"What happened?" I asked weakly, shivering as I curled even tighter against him. "A-all that destruction, all those hoofprints…"

He shook his shaggy blonde mane as he spurred his reindeer faster and faster. My heart was filled with deeper dread the larger the kingdom loomed in my vision. All I wanted was to be home. To curl up by a fire and rest… and see my sister. I wanted that above all else.

Kristoff got me to the gates. The officials didn't want to let him in, and I didn't have the brainpower to argue anymore; my entire focus was on Elsa, on fighting my way to her side. Seeing her dazzling blue eyes and her soft white locks above me, sliding my hands around her trim waist…

"Prince Hans!" Kai called as he and Gerda steered me into the meeting room. I felt lucky that the ice magic's effects were minimal; otherwise, I would have been barely able to walk by now. I saw several dignitaries gathered around Hans, including the Weasel himself. Odin Allfather, didn't that guy have a life at all? Or enough sense to notice nobody wanted him around?

"Anna!" my suitor gasped out, rushing over to embrace me tightly. Oh yeah… I kind of forgot in all the craziness that the last time I talked to him, we were supposed to be getting married. I'd have to straighten that out later.

"Hans! I… I have to find out what happened to my sister!"

He seemed stunned. "What? What do you mean? She left Arendelle, she left us all to deal with this winter."

"But I saw the hoofprints leading back here! From the North Mountain! Where… I know she's here, I can feel it!" And I could, I swear I felt her presence. Maybe it was just me fooling myself… or maybe it was just gas.

Hans opened his mouth to protest, but just then another guard came in, standing ramrod straight and saluting. "Her Majesty has refused any food or drink, Sir. What shall we…" Only then did he notice me there, and he saluted again — harder, if possible. "Princess Anna! You have returned! Then… you were not…?"

"Were not what?" I asked. When the rest of the people in the room began to mutter, I looked around more frantically. "Okay, I'm getting a little tired of the information wagon not wheeling in my direction! What in the fjord is going on?!"

"Listen," Hans breathed with a slight crease in his handsome brow, "I think you all should leave for a moment. Princess Anna is clearly overcome — and she is frozen to the bone. We need to give her some time, I need to take care of her and let her warm herself by the f-"

"NO. You can stay here and talk to these guys if you want; I have a mission." I turned to point at the guard. "You! Fred, or something!"

"Fredek, Your Highness," he said with a stiff bow, still looking a little out of sorts. Everybody did.

"That's what I said. Is my sister here?"

"Y-yes, but she is-"

"Where?" Hesitation. Again. "Hey, am I the princess around here or WHAT?! Take me to Elsa now! Right now!"

                                                                ~ o ~

Nothing could have prepared me for that trip up into the tower. When we were little, Elsa and I would sometimes go up there to play, pretending one of us was the monster that was holding the other captive. We would imagine our castle was Soria Moria, taking turns playing a princess — since we were always princesses and playing was about escapism — and Halvor, the hero. We usually wound up just squealing and rolling around in fear that the troll with three heads would gobble us up, starting with our toes. That was what our father always told us would happen if we didn't behave.

Father…

Not for the first time, I fretted over what he would think about all this. Had he known? Had Mother? Did they have magic of their own, and just never bothered to reveal it to me? Nah, that would be completely crazy; I would know if my parents had anything magical in their backgrounds. Still, nobody ever told me about Elsa, so it was possible. It would have been easy to let bitterness take over my heart, thinking about how left out I had been my entire life until now.

But wasn't I doing something every bit as depraved as them keeping secrets? By falling head over heels for my own sister?

"I'm sorry, Princess, you cannot pass. I have my orders."

"Skadi can have your stupid orders! That is my sister and I'm going to see her, and… and I'm the princess, and you are not. So there!"

"That has nothing to do with-"

"You're ORDERED to open this door! NOW!" That was starting to work pretty well for me. The man sighed and unlocked the door, pulling it open. "Okay, get out of here."

"Excuse me?"

"I need to speak with my sister in private! And if you're hanging around out here… just-" I shoved at him impatiently. "Go wait at the bottom of the stairwell, or something! I don't care, just don't let us be disturbed or I'm going to…" Sentence him to death? I couldn't even pretend to be that mean. "Or I'll turn you into a stable-boy, and you'll be shovelling horse dritt for the rest of your life!"

Honestly, I've never seen a soldier in full armour sprint down stairs before.

"Who's there?" croaked a weak voice as I crept into the chamber, yanking the door shut behind me. "Is… you have to tell me, have they found Anna?"

"Nope," I said with a smirk. "She's totally still missing. Probably got eaten by a muskox."

The blue-tinted form on the cot shifted and stirred, and a disheveled head of platinum blond hair raised to squint through the darkness at me. Wow, she looked a lot more rough than I expected… because never in my life had I seen her look anything less than perfect. Not even when we were little.

"I…" Once she had seen me with her own eyes, she let out a long, shaky sigh of relief. "We don't… muskoxen aren't even carnivores."

"No?" I grunted as I plopped down on the floor right next to her, not even caring how dirty the dungeon was. Can you have a dungeon in a tower? Is that not the same thing? Maybe there's another word. "Well fine, I got turned into grass by some other magical person, and then the muskox ate me."

"Stop that. I was so worried when Hans told me, and here you are making fun of me for worrying. That isn't nice."

"Uh huh. It's totally nice, because I'm playing with you. Remember how to play?"

Elsa smiled softly to herself, glancing at the tiny window. The sky was definitely awake; I knew that's what she was thinking because it was what I was thinking. Crazy how sometimes, we could be so in sync, and other times…

"I remember," she admitted under her breath. "What do you think I keep thinking about the entire time I've been up here?"

The smile that broke out over my face was bright enough to eclipse the sun. It turned just a little wicked as I stood tall with my fists on my hips and proclaimed, "Hutetu, what a smell of Christian man's blood!"

That made my sister turn to look at me with wide eyes. Which promptly rolled before she mumbled, "Oh Anna, please, anything but that…"

"Come on, you know this!" I hissed. "Just kill the troll, Halvor — cut off all my heads! Then you can sweep the youngest princess-sister off her feet!" For real, this time. In hindsight, maybe it was because we spent so much time pretending to marry each other as kids that led us to the big i-word.

"And how am I supposed to do that?" she asked, raising her hands…

My heart seemed to grow yet colder in my chest as I looked at those gleaming manacles. I'd never seen anything quite like them; they encircled Elsa's hands completely instead of just binding her at the wrists, and chains led from their tips to a metal plate bolted to the middle of the floor. Wasn't that weird? Why would any such thing exist?

Come to think of it… since when had this tower been a dungeon? It was always cold and forbidding, but the iron bars had not been there when we were little, pretending it was Soria Moria. Not that I trusted my memories much anymore after finding out my sister had ice powers and never told me.

Still, I could put two-and-two together. "Elsa, this prison… did you…?"

"Not I alone," she sighed weakly, staring down into her icy lap as she fidgeted on the cold-looking stone cot. "Father had this commissioned."

"Father wouldn't-"

"I insisted. I made him and Mother see that it was for the best, even if… if they did not want to put me in a cage. But sometimes we need cages, Anna — to protect everyone else from what's inside."

"So what, now you just… you're going to sit up here while an eternal winter rages throughout Arendelle? That's so- I can't believe you would neglect your duties to this kingdom. Don't you see we need you?"

Her brow furrowed as she turned away again. "No. Look what I have done so far. Why would anyone need a queen as unstable as me? Who can't even control her own curse?"

"Curse? Do you not remember- didn't you see Olaf? Real and as alive as you and me? You did that! And you built that beautiful castle, and made this dress- really gorgeous, by the way, I didn't get a chance to say it before."

At least I made her chuckle. A tiny bit. It didn't last long before she was brooding again, staring toward the window. "You're too sweet. Maybe… maybe I shouldn't have interfered."

"Interfered in what?"

"You and… what was his name? Hans. Or that large man who helped you find me."

"Kristoff. Wait… are you trying to marry me off to some man I just met? After all that?!"

"Anna, you deserve a chance at happiness with a man who can take care of you. If you keep pining after me, deluding yourself into thinking we can be something more than we are… then I'm afraid you'll never be happy. And that would hurt me more than I can bear, especially knowing it's my fault! All I have ever wanted is to make sure you are taken care of. That you're safe, and whole, and happy."

"Then why did you spend over a decade shutting me out? Huh? Could you really not remember how much I loved you? Didn't you realize how that was going to hurt me, losing my sister — my best friend?" So maybe it wasn't very nice, but I couldn't help it; I lost my temper.

"I…" Her chest was rising and falling more rapidly, eyes narrowing thanks to the force of the furrow in her brow. It almost looked like she was panicking again, like she had at the coronation ball. "It wasn't my decision, but wasn't it for the best? I couldn't hurt you again. And us being together, especially the way we've been recklessly exploring the past couple of days… I can only see that ending one way."

"Elsa…" Knowing I had made a mistake, I approached her and laid a hand on her shoulder. Yes, she tensed up, but when nothing bad happened she relaxed. "I'm sorry. Maybe this has been rough on you, too, but I still don't think staying away from me was the best plan. Why couldn't we have tried to work on this togeth-"

"What part of 'I didn't want to hurt you again' is confusing for you? Why are you always so stubborn, Anna?!"

My temper threatening to rise again in response to hers, I snapped back, "The 'again' part, you jerk! Literally the only thing that ever hurt me was losing you!"

"No, it isn't! You just don't remember because of the trolls-"

Elsa cut off, her expression full of misery as she turned away. Lately, I felt like I was messing up all the time. Pushing too much. I didn't want to, I just… when I see something is wrong, I have this compulsion to fix it. How can anybody do any better if they don't try?

"I've been to the trolls. They said… well, they said if we don't do something soon, this is going to get worse."

"What is?" But this time, when she looked at me — really looked — she noticed. "Oh. Oh, Anna, it's getting worse…"

"How do you know about the trolls?" I asked suspiciously, scooting forward to make sure she couldn't escape my gaze so easily. "Wait — did you always know my hair was going to get more white? The way you said that…"

"No, no, they said they fixed it," she breathed, voice strained as if she were barely keeping her emotions in check. "I can't do this!"

"Elsa, for once I need you to actually listen to me and answer my questions! How do you know about the trolls, and what do you mean, this has happened before? And why don't I ever remember you having ice magic until your coronation? The more I think about it, the crazier it seems I wouldn't have noticed something that insane! Hey, I know I'm dumb, but I'm not that dumb!"

Suddenly, my sister's icy irises blazed with anger as she turned to look at me. "Don't you say that, Anna. You are not dumb. I have never mistaken your openness and your vibrance, and the naïvety that your excitement leads to sometimes, for stupidity."

Why did that turn me on? Talk about an inappropriate reaction!

"O-oh. Well… wow, Elsa, thank you. Um, I didn't expect you to say anything like that, I thought you would agree with me. Or something. I don't know." Desperately wishing I could force the blush out of my cheeks was distracting me from being able to string words together.

"Alright." Clearly relieved that I had accepted what she said instead of arguing, she closed her eyes for a moment. A long moment. "As I said, this is not the first time my magic has hurt you, no matter how hard I try to protect you. And there's a reason you-"

"Come on, Elsa! Why haven't you figured out yet that I don't need protection? Not from my best friend!" My body seemed to take on a life of its own, demanding I get closer to my sweet sister, that I show her how true my feelings really were. Otherwise, how would she ever see?

"Anna, wait-"

"I love you," I breathed as she backed into the corner, even though I was keeping pace, my hands pawing at her arms through her dress. The chains pulled taut beneath me and I saw my sister lurch from the unexpected resistance on her arms; I hadn't been paying much attention to them, I was so focused on getting closer to her. But then-

Then I let out the whimper. My sister whispered fearfully, "Anna? Anna, what's wrong?"

"Mmhhh, I didn't… well that's new…" My thighs flexed as I rubbed myself against the steel links that were now firmly between my thighs, vision going blurry briefly from the powerful surge of pleasure.

"What… are-" The gasp made it pretty obvious she had figured it out. "Anna, you stop that right now!"

"Why? It's… I mean, why can't I take a quick little break?" That was a pretty weak defense. Mostly, I was aware of how insane and depraved what I was doing was, but every second I was away from Elsa made my desire triple. At least, it really felt that way to me.

"We have…" Maybe it was the expression on my face, or maybe the sounds I was making, but I could start to see the colour rising in her cheeks. "Anna, we were in the middle of an important conversation. Please, can't your libido wait a minute or two?"

"I can… multitask…" At her glare, I finally brought my greedy pelvis to a stop. "You're right! You're right, I'm really sorry. I just already wanted you so bad, and then those chains hit me just right in- okay, shutting up," I added when I saw her death glare.

"Thank you. Now… I know this isn't going to be easy for you to hear. But I have hurt you before, when we were children. I wish I didn't have to explain it to you, I wish I could let you go on thinking nothing was wrong, but it's clear to me now that you will never stop fighting to get closer to me unless I explain why you can't do that. No matter what we both want, it just isn't meant to be."

"Okay, I… do not like that part. But the rest is good! We should be talking about these things — I mean, how are we ever going to fix things between us if we don't? So…" Oh wow, it was almost impossible to keep still.

"Your hips are moving."

"So what? My hips are here, my hips are th- ooooh, maybe they shouldn't go there. Okay, I stopped. So you hit me with some of your magic when we were kids and it gave me a white streak in my hair, and you guys took me to the trolls and they erased my memory and healed me right up? That pretty accurate?"

I couldn't remember ever seeing my sister look so completely shocked before. Literally had no words. It's too bad she didn't have something like that she could say to me, because I'm the chatterbox who needs to be quieted down sometimes.

"What? I mean, you left me some pretty easy dots to connect, and you just said I'm not as dumb as I look."

"I didn't- you don't look dumb, either! You are a beautiful young woman who could have anyone in the kingdom!"

Grinning, I whispered, "Aww, really?"

"Anna, please, try to pay attention. Don't you see how dangerous this is? Twice now I have gotten too close, let my attention lapse, and twice now I have hurt you. Can't you understand why I need to be kept away from you?"

Of course, I did feel my heart grow a little colder for just a second. But then I shook my head hard and glared at her. "Yeah. Yeah, I can see how you would think that — even how our parents could think that. Because they don't get it at all, and neither do you."

She looked so bone-weary when I started to crawl closer. Was hard not to take that personally. "Anna… what is it that you think you understand that I don't?"

"True love."

"What?"

"The trolls…" I shivered for a moment. It was getting worse, so I had to push ahead. "They said only an act of true love can thaw a frozen heart. So don't you see? If you kiss me-"

"NO. Anna, you have to listen to me! Stop this nonsense!" She was breathing hard in panic again now that our faces were only a couple of inches apart. Crystals formed on her eyelashes from the tears she couldn't fully shed. "I can't. Why don't you see I can't be that person for you? I'm a woman — your sister, the queen of the kingdom! No one will allow us to be together!"

Her words stabbed into me roughly like bayonets. Like icicles she was driving into my heart. And I could see fear blossoming in her eyes, could feel the cold creeping along my cheeks. Confirmation wasn't necessary; I knew I was getting worse. The magic was stealing me from the world. And Elsa just couldn't see that she was the only one who had the power to roll back the frozen tide.

"They aren't who counts," I breathed, my teeth beginning to chatter. Then… my hips started moving again.

"Anna, this is not the-"

"I'm going to freeze if I don't move. Don't you want to help me?" When she remained immobile, a little desperation crept into my voice as my brow furrowed. "Elsa…"

"I can't help. All I can do is make it worse," she sobbed brokenly. Even if she couldn't understand, at least she wasn't hiding anything from me anymore. Baby steps are all you get sometimes.

"Can't get worse than this!" I tried to joke. And when she only began to cry harder, I reached up to caress her soft cheek. "Come on… pick your princess, Halvor. You've b-been through so much…"

And she did kiss me. I had really been hoping that would break the curse. It didn't. But I was still going to enjoy this moment to the fullest. Hey, if it's your last one on the mortal plane, heck, why wouldn't you?

The deeper our kiss grew, the stronger my urges rose. It seemed to be helping me fight off the cold, so I renewed my efforts, grinding myself hard against those firm chains through the layers of Oaken's winter wardrobe. And my dear, beautiful sister no longer wasted any breath trying to convince me to stop; she did the one thing I had always wanted her to do, ever since we were little.

She supported me.

"Mmmhhhah!" I gasped when I was getting close. "Elsa! I love you!"

"Anna-"

"Never forget! Do you understand me?" Hazy as my vision was, I could still see the furrow of concern in her brow, how rapidly she was breathing. My poor big sister was terrified on my behalf. Screwed up as that might be, it felt amazing. She actually cared about me! "Don't you ever… forget that I love you, and I never blamed you, and I… all I ever wanted was to be close to you again! And you're giving that to me, and I am so, so happy!"

Tears slipping down her cheeks and shattering on the stone floor, Elsa rasped out, "Anna, you can't go! You're the one that deserves to stay — you have never done anything wrong! It's me! I am the monster, I cursed you, and I should be the one who is slain!"

"So what?! You… didn't do anything wrong, either!" But she didn't believe me. Of course. So I had to give her something different, something that would meet her needs. "A-and I forgive you! For anything, everything, whatever you think you need forgiveness for, you got it, sis!"

We kissed again. I only wished we could have had that conversation when I wasn't riding a couple of lengths of chain; it was definitely a little weird. But the burning between my thighs demanded I keep going, and it also felt like if I stopped, the cold would win. So on I bucked, over and over into that unrelenting metal-

Elsa did a little something for me that finished me off. And I can't even fully explain it, but I had no idea anybody could use their tongue like that.

"HMMNHHH!" was the only noise I could make because our mouths were joined together, but I felt like it was enough for her to understand. The orgasm that stole over my body was both satisfying and unsatisfying, because I was still so far away from the one I loved despite the passion joining our lips. But it would have to do. At least most of the frost had been rolled back from my body so I could function again.

Once the high faded, and the blaze in my crotch was back to being a dull ache again, we finally broke the kiss to look into each other's eyes. And there was understanding. I could see now that Elsa might still try to resist, and would probably always have anxiety about hurting me, but she was no longer deluded that we weren't meant to be together. She got it. Better late than never, I guess.

"Sooooo, your turn, Big Sis? Let me under that ice dress. Gotta show my appreciation."

"Anna!"

"Hey, you wouldn't happen to have that fork with you, would you? Maybe in here?"

Elsa only had enough time to chuckle and roll her eyes before the door burst open. My finger instantly jerked back from where it had been inching below her neckline as I whirled to yell at whoever had interrupted us.

But it was Hans. Not just him, but the guard I had sent on an early lunch break. Both had swords drawn, but now they were definitely looking like they didn't know which way was up.

"Princess!" Hans gasped. "Are you alright? We heard you struggling to breathe!"

"I-I'm fine!" I laughed nervously, privately thinking I was really getting tired of people barging in on me right after I came. Maybe I should invest in a Do Not Disturb sign that I could just carry with me wherever I went…

"What have you done to her?" he demanded of Elsa, glowering. She shrank away, instantly on the defensive, so I held out my hands toward both of them.

"Stop! Listen, nobody did anything, everything is fine! We were just talking, and… and trying to figure it all out!"

"Princess, I advise you stay away from her. She nearly killed the guards when they found her on North Mountain!"

When I turned to my sister with a question in my eyes, she winced, shoulders hunching up toward her ears. "I-it was an accident. They were trying to kill me, I was only defending myself!"

"Trying to kill you? They were part of the search party — we only came looking because Princess Anna had disappeared."

"But they attacked! And they weren't even guards from Arend-"

"Please take the princess to safety," Hans instructed the guard. But I wasn't focusing on that for the moment. He had already picked me up and moved me away from the chains before the little seed of thought began to sprout.

"Not from Arendelle?" I had to raise my boot and brace it against the door frame to keep from being shoved out of the tower. "Wait, wait, what did I miss?"

Hans sounded very regretful the moment he started speaking. "Those were Weselton's men. I thought it would be good to have more in our search party, but perhaps I was wrong. They seemed to have their own agenda. But you still had nearly taken their lives when I found you, Queen Elsa. Perhaps if you weren't so aggressive with your sorcery, one of them wouldn't have tried to take you out with the crossbow."

So much of what he said made sense, and I understood the shame and regret in my sister's face. She didn't want to be a killer, she didn't want to hurt anyone. And the more I learned, the more I understood why.

"This is still my fault, Hans," I sighed as the guard finally put me down, seeming to realize he wasn't going to have any more success if he kept at it. Stubborn as a mule. "She was fine until I started pushing her, messing with her ability to… to keep it all in check. So if anybody should be in chains, it's me."

Turning back to me, Hans took up my hands and squeezed tightly. Oh, the pain, the… awkward. Yeah, it's super awkward holding hands with the guy you once told you were ready to marry but suddenly realized you only wanted to tie the knot with a blood-related sibling.

"Anna, you aren't responsible for your sister's decisions. She has still put this entire kingdom in danger. Don't you think she should answer for that crime?"

"Only if I answer for the same crime! Didn't you hear me? I provoked her into it, I was- was being a stinker, she felt trapped!"

"Don't be absurd," he responded a little more firmly, lips pressing flat. "You never forced her to unleash eternal winter! Besides, if both of you are tried for treason, how will you and I rule over Arendelle? There will be no one left to take the throne."

I blinked a few times. "What? You and I- oh, Hans. If only you were the one I love." While he was busy looking more confused than ever, I shrugged helplessly. "My sister was right. I was just caught up in the excitement of having a new friend, someone who would listen, and I didn't stop to realize… there's no way what we had could be true love after only a few hours."

"So… then…" Man, he was really breathing hard now. I felt like a colossal jerk for doing this to him, but I didn't want to live a lie. Not for a single second. That would only make this harder in the long run. "So that's all there is to it? You can't see your way to giving me… a chance? Maybe we were hasty, but that doesn't have to-"

"It does. My heart belongs to another."

You know, it's funny. Even while I was sharing a longing gaze with Elsa, small, knowing smiles on our lips as we felt our hearts warm with the power of love, Hans still didn't realize who I was talking about. Maybe that says something about me, or maybe it says something about men. About people in general. That's a question I can't really answer.

"Who?" was what he asked when he found his voice again.

"It's a secret," I compromised. Again, Elsa rolled her eyes, but I was starting to get used to that. It didn't make me feel belittled anymore.

"I see. That… that is regrettable."

Elsa still held my eyes when I heard the sickly sound of metal sliding through metal. Mostly, I just found it really annoying, but when I turned to figure out what it was and how to stop it…

"NO!" Elsa burst out before I could react.

"Alright," Hans grunted as he dragged the sword out of the guard's back. The blade gleamed red as the man curled his fingers around the spot it had protruded from his chest with the last of his breath, then sagged to the stone floor. "But I do regret having to resort to such unpleasantness."

Skadi. The guard was dead. As much tragedy as my sister and I had been through over the years, I have never seen someone die right in front of me before. Never had to watch the light of life fading from someone's eyes, never had to know his family would mourn him because of something I had witnessed firsthand. It was beyond horrible.

"You… what have you done?" Elsa was muttering in a distant voice, just as disbelieving as I was but somehow still able to speak while I was completely mute.

"Only what I had to do. Oh, it would have been so much simpler and more elegant if you could have been tried for treason and executed, Your Majesty." How could he look so casual, striding over to flick that sword at me — spraying me with some of the blood? What a sadist. "You really are a danger to everyone here, I can see that. But now that I know Anna will never consent to marry me, well… as I said, this change of plans is regrettable, but I seem to have no other choice."

"No," I breathed as he advanced on me, and I felt my heart jumping into my throat, pounding loud as a timpani. "Hans, y- stop! What do you think you're doing, how can you be so, so…"

He shrugged carelessly, as if none of this mattered to him. Maybe it didn't. I would say I knew better, but clearly I didn't know a damn thing about anything. "As the thirteenth in line in my own kingdom, I didn't stand a chance. I knew I would have to marry into the throne somewhere. Being the firstborn heir, Elsa was preferable, of course, but no one was getting anywhere with her."

"Excuse me?" Elsa snapped, clearly a lot more outraged now that he was focused on me while holding a bloody sword. Can't say I blame her; shoe on the other foot, I would be just as riled up. "I am not a prize to be w-"

"But you? Oh, Anna, you were so desperate for attention. Probably weren't getting any at home." Only then did he bother to spare a smirk for Elsa, which shot her fury through with agony — just like he wanted. Now I could see his little calculations playing out behind his beady eyes. How could I have ever thought they were dreamy before?

"Hans, you d-don't know what you're talking about," I chattered, the cold beginning to grow again. As focused as I was on Hans, and the way snowflakes were swirling around our heads because Elsa was mad and scared and stressed, there was no warmth of our sisterly bond to counter the prince's frigid scheme. "You don't know what you're doing!"

"Don't I?" Suddenly that cunning smile changed to a stricken expression. "I… I couldn't believe the queen could do that to the guard, her own sister. There was nothing I could do, I- I had to protect myself when she came at me. But at least Anna and I got to say our marriage vows… before she died in my arms."

Even while he was holding himself tightly, I gave a sarcastic clap and sneered, "Oh wow, what a ham. Nobody's ever going to buy that barrel full of last year's lutefisk."

"Won't they?" His expression turned cold as he raised the sword overhead, aiming to strike true. I was dead and I knew it. After everything we had been through, this was going to be the end. How disappointing. "The evidence will be compelling, if I do say so mysel-!"

But the blow never landed. Even if Elsa's hands were bound, the rest of her wasn't; I'm really not sure why neither of us had quite paid attention to that little detail. Hans certainly wasn't going to forget it anytime soon after she shoulder-charged him, sending him bouncing into the far wall. The crunch would have been sickening if it weren't, well… him.

"Elsa!" I gasped. "Whoa, you really cleaned his clock! Since when were you such a… oh!"

That was as far as I got before I was scrambling back against the wall, watching the cuffs around her hands frost over just before they shattered completely. I had to shield my eyes from the shrapnel, and when I lowered my arms again… for the first time in my life, I felt honestly, truly afraid of my sister — because that look in her fair features was even more vicious than the one Hans had been wearing a moment ago. Bloodthirsty.

Vengeant.

"WHOA!" I barely gasped out as I latched onto her elbows. Mostly to keep her from raising the ice sword she had just conjured out of the air. "Wait, easy, what are- what are you going to do?!"

"Ending his life." At least she wasn't pussyfooting around the subject.

"You can't!"

"Why not?!" she demanded, still struggling against me. And my sister was clearly stronger than I gave her credit for, because she was almost lifting me off the ground with the force of her arms. Again, hotter than it had any right being, especially in the middle of a life-and-death situation. "He was going to end yours! He doesn't deserve to live!"

"Because he's not worth it! Because…" I let go and quickly moved around to put myself between her and Hans. "Because I don't want to see my sister turn into a murderer. Okay? We already got him outnumbered — it's over! You don't have to kill him anymore!"

Her voice was as flinty as her deep blue eyes. "Anna, move."

"No! You can't kill him and still be the woman I love!"

I saw her hesitate. And just being that close to her, staring into her eyes, I felt the love bursting within my heart. Anybody would do anything for her, and… it's me. I'm 'anybody'.

Then she was knocking me to one side with an icy blast. My head bounced off the stone of the tower wall, dazing me slightly, but she hadn't thrown me far or hard enough for it to do any real injury. Mostly, I felt sick that my love wasn't enough to stop her from committing murder. As she brought the sword down, I screamed…

But it only clanged against steel. We had run out of time; Hans had recovered and was about to strike. Even as I watched them struggling against each other, teeth gritted in concentration as they tried to overpower their opponent, it slowly caught up to me: she didn't ignore my pleas. That bastard had been about to make another attempt on my life.

My sister just kept saving me.

"You'll… never take me!" he snarled into her features as he began to back her towards the opposite wall. With his ginger hair disheveled and that deranged expression on his face, he definitely no longer looked like the handsome prince who worked so hard to charm my pants off. Now he just looked like… Weselton. "You might have magic, but underneath that? You're nothing but a scared little girl, trying to fend off a man with true ambition! You are NOTHING!"

"Yes!" she grunted, struggling down onto one knee but still valiantly pressing back his attack, despite the cracks forming in her sword. Then she suddenly smiled fiercely. "But do you… know what's… stronger than a man with ambition?"

"What?!" he demanded with that vicious, taunting smile. "Love?"

Of course, that was all he ever got to say, because that next second I was bringing down the fallen guard's heavy helmet right on the back of his head. I could see the smile turn to a look of shock in the reflection of their swords just before he crumpled to the ground, completely unconscious. I really didn't hold back.

"Sorority, you dope," I snapped down at him, casually dropping the helmet onto his back. "You should know better than to mess with sisters."

"Anna!" Elsa gasped as her sword vanished completely. It didn't take her long to scramble to her feet and throw her arms around me, clutching me so tightly to her body that I actually felt winded. "Oh, Anna…"

"It's okay, Elsa. I'm here, I'm fine."

"Your head- you're sure? I didn't want to throw you but-"

"I get it, I get it," I laughed as she pulled back to pet over the side of my head. "Crazy way to protect someone, but I guess it's better than getting stabbed. Thanks."

"Oh. Your hair…"

"I know," I sighed. "But it's okay, Elsa. We'll figure it out together. Please don't feel guilty anymore; I know you never meant to hurt me, not back then and not now."

"No — Anna…" Eyes sweeping the little tower cell, she came upon the guard's sword. As she unsheathed it, for a wild moment I was afraid she was going to kill Hans while he was unconscious, but instead she held it up in front of my face.

And now I could see what she was talking about. "What's- huh?! Where'd my white streak go — why am I all auburn again?"

"I… I don't know." And I could tell she was legitimately confused. "Do you feel any different? Do you remember feeling anything different?"

"No, I…" But I did.

So many memories came flooding back the second I focused my mind on them. Building Olaf together in the ballroom, not outside during a wintry day. Dragon feet. Cuddling close to our mother as she sang us a lullaby, my eyelids getting heavy… All memories I had before. But they were different now; changed by something that had been hidden that was now in the light.

"Do the magic," I whispered softly, my eyes welling with tears.

"Oh," she breathed, just as misty as I was as she dropped the sword and yanked me into another clinging embrace. "Oh, Anna, I'm so sorry. I never wanted any of this, I just wanted us to be happy! But Pabbie said to keep you safe… I had to learn to control my power. But I can't."

"Oh, I think you can. I know you can." Pressing my fingertips into her back, I whispered softly, "You're my magical sister, and the strongest person I know. You can do anything." When she didn't respond at all, just sobbed gently into my shoulder, I smiled and asked her, "What were you going to say?"

"What?" she blubbered.

"Before I bonked Hans on the noggin. You had been going to say there was something stronger than a man with ambition…? I interrupted, sorry about that."

"Don't be sorry," she laughed wetly. "But… I was going to agree with him. It's love. I would do anything for my family, and I know you would do the same. And a man like him would never understand that."

"Yeah, sheesh. You'd think a guy with thirteen brothers would get it even more! But apparently they were pretty rotten."

Finally, Elsa drew back from the hug to cup my cheek, her expression full of so much adoration that I almost had to pinch myself to see if this was real. "I'm so glad you're safe, and so glad you are finally whole again. Even if I'm not quite sure how."

"Me, either. The trolls told me 'only an act of true love can thaw a frozen heart', like I said. But I mean, if they meant getting myself off with your chains, well, that's pretty weird, even for people that grow mushrooms out of their backs!"

Elsa laughed a little — at first, then she grew thoughtful as her fingers combed through my fringe. "Love will thaw, hm? Well… I think… I'm starting to understand."

The room was silent for a few seconds. "So are you going to share with the class, or…?"

"Anna, don't you see? It wasn't the kiss — and certainly not your indiscretion with my chains. You healed yourself. Putting your body between Hans and I was what unfroze your heart, and I guess your head."

"Wait, what? Putting my- that was just because I didn't want you to have to kill that jerk. I couldn't stand the thought that my sister would have blood on her hands just because of me."

"And that's true love. Even if it was a little reckless."

"Hey! You could at least not make fun of me for trying to help my smmmph…"

That was as far as I got before she was drawing me into a gentle kiss. Melting into her arms was as easy as it ever was, pouring all of my longing and gratitude into her lips as our hearts beat as one. And of course, she was right; I guess protecting Hans, even if it was just to keep my sister's conscience clear… that was an act of love. For her.

A little at a time, we could hear commotion drifting up from downstairs. After taking a moment to slip handcuffs onto my former fiance's wrists, we went to investigate.

"Ohhhh, the storm is over," I breathed as I looked out the windows. "That's a relief; at least we can walk around outside without getting knocked down."

"Yes… but why…?" I turned to look at my sister, seeing her hand at her chin as her mind raced. She looked like a little junior detective when she did that. "Love will thaw. Do you really think…?"

"Think what?" But she was already grabbing my hand. "Hey!"

"Guards!" she snapped at the two who had also been gawking at the weather. "Prince Hans of the Southern Isles is a traitor to Arendelle, and one of our men is dead. Please remove the body and lock his cell until his fate is decided."

They were still clamoring through their confusion to manage a "Yes, Your Majesty" when Elsa yanked me further down the hallway, literally running in her glittering ice heels. How does she do that when I can barely run in boots?!

Once outside in the courtyard, I finally demanded, "Okay, Elsa, what are we doing? I mean, if you wanted to take a stroll, all you had to do was-"

"Shh." Grinning at me, she rubbed her hands together and then began to swirl them around each other, building up her energy — or something. You got me, since I've never done magic before. Then she curled them into claws and began dragging them upward from the ground, as if she were trying to summon the rocks from the earth and send them into the sky.

And as I watched, the ice and snow in the courtyard disappeared. That wasn't quite true; it was more like it evaporated. From the ground, the trees, the rooftops — from Arendelle. In no time, green was bursting out all around, and the confused servants throughout the castle were gasping in wonder.

"Whoa!" I squeaked. "You un-magicked your magic! Amazing!"

"Yes," she laughed, grabbing onto my hands and spinning me around in a circle. I couldn't help the peal of laughter that burst out of me, my heart was so light for the first time in forever. "Your love! That was always the key!"

"Yeah, sure!" I giggled. "My magical love!"

"No, really." Once we came to a stop, she pulled me in close, and I was struck again by how gorgeous she was, cheeks flushed and chest heaving slightly, bright red lips parted and curling into a smile. By Freya, she could have had anybody she wanted.

"You said that only an act of true love could thaw your heart, and your mind, Anna. I… I had to wonder if that's what I've been doing wrong all these years. Trying so hard to control my magic out of fear and anxiety for its consequences, terrified of hurting anyone, that I forgot… I forgot how to reach out, and let myself love you, and our parents, and… my people. That was the missing link."

My hand drifted up into her sweeping blonde forelock. "You sure you didn't bump your head when you tackled my ex?"

"Very sure. Our love thawed out Arendelle, Anna; that was all I needed."

"Oh," I breathed, knowing I looked like a shy dork by now. She had me so flustered in a way Hans could never have managed. "Well… I guess… you're welcome? Or thanks? I, u-um…" No, I could do better than that. "You'll always have as much love from me as you want, Elsa. Always."

And she kissed me again. That was never going to get old; it would always send tingles from my ears to the tips of my toes, set my stomach fluttering and my heart pounding. Even though I was no love expert, I somehow knew that was something only for the two of us.

Of course, when we broke apart we could hear the mutterings; the kiss had trapped us in a little world of our own, but pulling back revealed there were quite a few Arendellians shocked at what they had just witnessed. And I mean, I get it; their queen was acting like she was from Lesbos, not Norway, and with her own family member. That's a whole lot of Greek.

But even though I would have expected Elsa to retreat into her shell again, ashamed of what she had done, she did not. She stepped forward and announced loudly, "My sister and I have freed Arendelle of my magic. If any of you have a problem with how we have done that, you can air your grievances during the court levée I will open to the public on Monday morning. Until then, enjoy your summer again!"

Somehow, ending on that positive note triggered the automatic response of everyone cheering and clapping. Maybe it was a little bit of a trick, but it still gave Elsa the freedom to sweep me into her arms, to spin me around as I laughed. How long had it been since I felt that free?

Thirteen years. That's how long. But now we could be free forevermore. I only hoped the people of Arendelle would let us be free.

                                                                ~ Å Være Ferdig ~

#min soster bursdagskake #cake fic #forkanna writes #elsanna fandom #elsanna fanfiction #elsanna #forkanna #jess the writer #nsfw-text

[logicalbookthief]

achilles, achilles come down (won’t you get up off, get up off the roof)

"This is a literal warzone!" the officer raves. "Let the heroes handle this, son."

"You don't have to be a hero to do what's right!" Natsuo yells in the man's face. "Maybe if more ordinary people stepped in when they should, we wouldn't be in this mess!"

Post Chapter 291 (technically AU as of 292). Natsuo can't watch his brother die without trying to save him. Not again.

Link to the fic at ao3.

*

*

Natsuo runs. It feels like all he can do.

He runs through the wreckage, the ruble, the destruction. Barely spares it a glance, the world a blur as it rushes by. How he's managed to stay on his feet and not trip or collapse is a miracle. If he had any blood left for his brain, if his blood wasn't pumping through his body so loud it roars in his ears, blocking out everything else, he may have been able to think it over clearly.

The fact is, he's not. Thinking clearly. Or maybe he's seeing clearly for the first time in a forever.

"Touya-nii!" Natsuo stumbles in his haste to get down the stairs. "Don't leave without me!"

He stretches his hand out to his brother, who's already at the door. Touya turns at his whine, eyes sparkling fondly.

"'Course not. You know I won't leave you behind!" He ruffles his hair with a hint of teasing. "Besides, Fuyumi is grabbing our lunches. So I've got no choice, huh?"

Natsuo heaves a sigh. In his hurry, he didn't even tie his shoes. Without any prompting, Touya leans down to knot the laces tight.

"You have soccer practice today, right?" Natsuo nods. "I'll walk you home, once I'm done my training. Wait for me by the bleachers."

There are fresh bandages peeking out of his brother's sleeve. Natsuo pretends not to look. Touya catches it when he quickly averts his eyes and smiles to show it's okay.

"Don't worry, they don't hurt anymore!" Natsuo knows that isn't true. His brother can't hide, when Natsuo has watched him cry, night after night. Lately his brother always seems to be hurting, inside and out. Nobody else seems to have noticed.

His brother is smiling, but it's a lie.

Liar, Natsuo gnashes his teeth against the wind as it buffets his face. Liar, liar, lair.

His mind chants it in the voice of a petulant child: Touya is a liar. For years, and years, and years, Touya - or is it Dabi? - left Natsuo to believe he was dead. He lied to Fuyumi and Mom, too, but he's ashamed to admit he cares that he out of everyone was kept in the dark.

Growing up, they were each other's confidantes. For every white lie Touya told, Natsuo got the ugly truth. Every resentment he held in his heart, Touya accepted without judgement. It was a burden and a privilege, taking up the torch of his brother's memory. Giving him a voice where he no longer had one. He suspects that he's mourned his brother most because nobody else had known the Touya he did.

Why do I exist?

For months after he died, Natsuo used to always keep one ear tilted toward the front door, wishing for his brother to walk through it and apologize for making him wait. He did this for so long Fuyumi become concerned that he wasn't coping. To her relief, the weight of his disappointment wore him down, and finally convinced him that his big brother wasn't coming back.

To have those childish hopes vindicated by the broadcast of a notorious villain feels like the punchline to a cruel cosmic joke.

Surreal as it is, he doesn't falter. Touya must have his reasons for hiding the truth, but Natsuo needs to hear the reason from his brother before he decides if the writhing mass in his stomach is more grief or elation.

The streets this close to the battle are empty. Deserted. Anyone with good sense would have fled hours ago. Obviously, Natsuo isn't exactly being ruled by logic.

He runs. Runs until his lungs burn, begging for him to stop. He's never burned from the inside, not like Touya. Yet he'd lay awake some nights, wondering what he must've felt in those final moments. Afraid, alone, burning so hot and horribly- god, it must've hurt-

The villain in the broadcast has scars everywhere. His chest, his arms, his chin. All they ever managed to find of Touya was that piece of his jaw. Biles rushes up his throat at the mere mention of it still.

It was Fuyumi who explained in a hushed voice why there was no body for them to bury. It wasn't her job to share the grisly details of their brother's demise, but Mom was gone and Dad was useless. So it was Fuyumi who squeezed his hand at a funeral with a hollow casket, telling him, "It's alright to cry " while she openly wept.

Natsuo spent the service watching his father, searching for signs of- well, he isn't sure what he wanted to see. He remembers his father's state of disbelief. The remorse that flit over his features. If he had to put a name to how his father looked in that moment it would probably be helpless. And the fury this ignited in his heart could've melted through the earth's core.

Helpless, as if this was completely out of his control. Helpless, as if Touya hadn't come to Natsuo every fucking night in tears over how he was a failure who didn't have a reason to exist. And he didn't even have the decency to watch his son's sense of self disintegrate. In his absence, that task fell to Natsuo.

Nowadays, Natsuo watches his father pray at a shrine and admit he's to blame, but it's the hollow casket all over again. Because he's never understood why it was his fault. Never realized how he tortured Touya. Molding him for a purpose he could never fulfill and then treating him like a consolation prize. Discarding a child whose only flaw was a body at war with his Quirk, a thing beyond his control.

In his own narrow, selfish way, Natsuo believes his father loves them. His encounter with Ending certainly put that into perspective. And yet if he could toss his less-than-perfect children aside for his own aspirations, without considering the damage that would do, what sort of love was that? Maybe he didn't understand; he had never had a Quirk worthy of his father's adoration.

Natsuo was never the favorite child and that's fine. He saw where it got his brothers.

Why do I exist?

A gloved hand clamps around his arm, startling him so hard he'd scream if he had any breath to spare.

"Hey, what're you doing?" In his single-minded focus, Natsuo hadn't noticed the string of officers blocking his path, including the one glaring at him like he's crazy. Probably they were there to assist any people who were to injured or scared to escape, not deter the only idiot in the city running towards the danger. "All civilians have to evacuate this area immediately!"

"Get away from me!" he snaps, shrugging out of the grip. He has barely managed to get his heartrate under control when he catches sight of Gigantomachia, which knocks the air right back out of him.

He has no idea how his little brother, or anyone, does this on a regular basis. His knees have locked up at the mere glance. The heroes who can still fight make a valiant effort to subdue the beast, and even as Best Jeanist attempts to wind his steel cables around the villain, it seems like a desperate attempt to mitigate the devastation. Surely, though, once more heroes arrive they...

There. Atop the roof of a building, Natsuo spots the villain from the broadcast, a splotch of white hair atop a black silhouette. Flames sprout from his torso, a blazing shroud of blue, and the fear that shoots through Natsuo overtakes any hesitation. He makes to run as the officer catches him by the shoulder.

"This is a literal warzone!" he raves. "Let the heroes handle this, son."

"You don't have to be a hero to do what's right!" Natsuo yells in the man's face. "Maybe if more ordinary people stepped in when they should, we wouldn't be in this mess!"

A roar from Machia sends a shockwave through the ground. That, coupled with the officer's stricken reaction to his words is what allows Natsuo to escape. He sprints toward the building where he last saw Dabi, the officer's cries lost to the hum of adrenaline coursing through his veins.

The distance is nothing compared to a decade of grief, regret and guilt. It urges him up a flight of stairs, and another, and then another after that. By the time he reaches the roof, his lungs may well and truly explode if he taxes them any further.

Up this high, the wind is nearly deafening. Maybe it's the hammer of his heart in his chest. Dabi stares over the ledge, cloaked in flames. At this angle, Natsuo can't see his face, but the way his body's poised to leap, ready to rejoin the fray and leave him behind again... Something in Natsuo breaks. When the cry drags itself out of his throat, it's the raspy plea of a child.

"Touya!"

Dabi freezes, whirls towards his voice and that- Natsuo's breath hitches. That's his brother. His face is older, a patchwork of pain and yet... Without a doubt, it's Touya. Until this moment, Natsuo couldn't scarcely comprehend the truth, even as watched it play out on his phone screen. Now if he reached out a hand, it would definitely touch someone real, solid. Alive.

Had his family stood against him like this and really not recognized him? Shouto was hardly at fault, when he scarcely remembered his oldest brother. And as for his father... He had a knack of not paying attention where it mattered.

"It is you," he says hoarsely, surging forward on legs reduced to jelly. His heart sinks when his brother rebuffs the touch.

"Natsu..." Touya whispers his name in bewilderment. At least the distraction is enough for his flames to recede and Natsuo wants to fucking weep in relief. "What are you-"

Suddenly, the building rocks beneath their feet, a stark reminder of their proximity to the battle. Midair as he prepares to land a blow against Machia, Shouto's gaze strays over to Dabi, only to notice he's no longer alone. His eyes widen in visible terror. "Natsuo, get out of here!" he shouts.

Before he can stress the point, Machia swipes a massive claw at the heroes. Shouto dodges expertly, drawn back to the fight.

"He's right," Touya says flatly. It jolts Natsuo out of his terror-stricken daze. "You should go."

All traces of fear abates as anger seeps through the cracks of his resolve.

"What, you can give Dad and Shouto the news in person?" Natsuo's lips wobble into a line more sneer than a smirk. "While me, Fuyumi and Mom get to hear it over a fucking video."

"I'm not sorry for what I said," he scoffs. "He deserves to be exposed for what he is."

Natsuo swallows. "I know," he says tightly, and the thing is, he does. Beneath the whiplash of shock and sorrow, some vindictive part of Natsuo was glad when Touya exposed the image of their happy little family for the sham it is. He feels like shit for reveling in it at all; this will crush the dream of a normal family Fuyumi fought tooth-and-nail to preserve. Even the guilt doesn't stifle that sliver of satisfaction.

Out of all the siblings, he understands. The weight of his silence is unbearable some days. Knowing that it only protects the perpetrator, not the victims. Worse is the days where the silence doesn't weigh on him at all; those are the days he can't seem to forgive himself.

Tears begin to blur his vision. He blinks fervently against the sting. He hates that he has to do this here, on a roof, amongst this goddamn chaos. "You couldn't have told me the truth before you broadcasted it to the rest of the world!?"

Finally, Touya meets his gaze. His expression is unreadable, except for his eyes. They might shine blue, but there's no mistaking they're his mother's eyes. And no matter how much she hid, you could always see the sadness if you looked her in the eye.

"Didn't think you'd want a stitched-faced criminal showing up at your university," he deadpans.

Whatever retort he had to that shrivels up at the revelation: He knows where I go to school?  It lodges like a stone in the pit of his stomach. If that's the case, he must know where Fuyumi goes to school, where Mom's staying. It should be terrifying, a murder stalking him, his mother, his sister.

But it's heartbreaking, is what it is.

Watching Endeavor's career was necessary to his revenge, but that... That was Touya, shadowing his family like a spectator, a ghost, while they went on with their lives.

His jaw tightens against the crushing wave of emotion. "That's no excuse."

"It isn't one," Touya replies, tonelessly. "None of this is."

Natsuo blanches, though he manages to tamp down on the knee-jerk of panic. No, that isn't what this is, is it? The broadcast. Attacking Endeavor. This isn't a confessional and Touya isn't asking for his forgiveness. Unlike back then, Natsuo knows what this is. Knows the signs. He spends every day pouring over coursework that describes this exact scenario.

He won't be helpless this time.

Keep him talking, tether him to the present.

"You were alive for all these years..." He can't quite wrap his mind around the idea. His brother, the frailest of them all, scorched alive by his own fire, and crawling out of the ashes without help from anybody? "Where were you? How did you survive when you-"

"Look like a charred piece of meat?" Touya's grin cuts through the question, all sharp edges and spite. It's a bait and he refuses to rise. When Natsuo doesn't budge, the façade drops, replaced by a placid expression. "Never mind, it doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters!" Natsuo bristles. Both of them hear the underlying sentiment behind the words: You matter to me!

He senses it the moment Touya shuts down. He was good at that, even as kids. He must've learned it from their mom: repress it, bury  it, disguise it with a smile. Until it inevitably boils over.

Touya turns his back to him. Somehow that aches worse than anything else. "You shouldn't be here," he repeats, chilling his brother to the bone. He sounds so serene. Matter-of-fact. Like he's burned through everything he had and now is left numb. "The Touya you knew is dead. Dry your tears and move on. It won't be hard. You've done it before, you can do it again."

He lays in bed some nights, wondering if his brother suffered, if as he died he screamed for help. Touya was good at hiding the pain, but oh, god, it must've hurt-

"Cut the crap!" Natsuo snaps. "Stop treating me like the Natsu you remember. I'm not that kid anymore, either."

He grinds his teeth together to keep any of his other bitter thoughts at bay. He hadn't meant to be harsh and besides, that isn't what Touya needs from him right now. However, it seems to jostle something in his brother, who looks at him, truly looks. Finally sees the angry, desperate and dirt-streaked man standing in front of him. A thin smile stretches the staples on his cheeks.

"No," he laughs, manic, and a little fond. "I guess not, huh?"

Natsuo huffs out a near-laugh, too. His mind is reeling yet his heart hangs less heavy than it did before. Briefly, it feels as if they are those kids, the ones who simply found comfort in each other's company. But the triumph is short-lived and he makes a critical error- he forgets. Forgets they're surrounded by heroes who view his brother as an imminent threat.

Steel cables jet out towards Touya from behind. Over his shoulder, Natsuo watches a streak of ice join the attack, likely to staunch any retaliatory flames, and he curses his little brother in the same breath his heart breaks for him. As far as Shouto's concerned, this is Dabi, and all he's trying to do is protect Natsuo, yet it's so fucked up because that isn't the brother he needs to save.

All he knows is that Touya, with the state he's in... Mentally distraught, physically destroyed. He won't surrender but he won't survive this much longer. His skin is still smoldering but he's ready and willing to burn until it's ash and Natsuo will lose his brother again.

He leaps for brother and he can't even pretend it's a noble impulse, or anything less than a moment of fear-guided insanity. He isn't a hero. He isn't kind like his siblings. Strong like his father or enduring like his mother. Not a martyr like Touya. He can't do much beyond the ordinary person, but he's got to do something, or else-

Natsuo surges right into the path of Best Jeanist's attack. Distantly, it sounds like someone screams his name - Shouto? His father? - he can't be sure. All of it's white-noise as he grabs his brother and swings them around, using his larger weight to crash them to the ground. He winces as his chin collides with collar bone, his knees scraping against the concrete with a screech of protest. Touya lands against his back, hard, the air punched out of his chest.

There's a dazed stretch of silence while Touya gawks up at him and Natsuo pants in the wake of his most recent adrenaline rush. It lasts for all of a second before his brother's howling and thrashing against his hold.

"You idiot!" he seethes. "Natsu, what the hell is wrong with you?! What are you doing? Let me go!"

His skin begins to heat. Though it feels like laying his palm over a stovetop set to simmer, Natsuo maintains his grip.

"I won't just stand by and let you destroy yourself," he yells, giving him a shake. Up close, the smell of signed flesh is nauseating. "Not again!"

Whatever Touya planned to spew back is halted by . Natsuo sobs freely, the tears rushing down his cheeks. They land over scars and skin alike and he wonders if Touya can feel the impact or if he's numb there, too. The struggling has ceased, and if ever there was a time to speak, it'll have to be now.

"You came to me crying, asking why you should exist . . . and I didn't have an answer."

There are fresh bandages peeking out of his brother's sleeve. Out of the collar of his shirt, too.

Fresh scars decorate his skin every day. Evidence of the training he continues, despite his father's disinterest. Despite the toll it's taking.

Natsuo pretends not to look. If he's noticed, someone else must have, too. A teacher. An adult. Mother, if she were home. Father, if he cared to look.

He shuts his eyes against the memory, where he can still see it, the angry red of his brother's flesh. "I knew you were hurting yourself with your Quirk. That you didn't care what happened to you, as long as you could prove you were useful!"

Fists tremble where they're clenched around Touya's arms, digging into scar-tissue. "I didn't know who to tell or if I should... Mom was already unstable and Dad was the reason... I didn't know what to do so I didn't nothing. And you... you..."

Wait for me by the bleachers.

Natsuo is left waiting, waiting, waiting. Forgotten. No surprise, since he was always the forgotten one. Fuyumi was the only girl, Touya was the oldest, and Shouto was the favorite but Natsuo- well, it was easy to forget Natsuo. Only Touya never forgot, which makes it all the worse. After he promised!

Sullenly, he walks home. Swears the moment he walks through the door he's going to give his brother a piece of his mind.

He never gets the chance.

"You didn't come home." Touya watches the words leave his mouth like he can't fathom any of them, but that's okay. This is Natsuo's grief to bare. He won't ever understand what it's like to burn, just as Touya won't understand this. "You didn't come home that day and I never got to tell you, I..."

Touya has barely moved since he started talking. Shock seems to have rendered him mute, the only proof of life the shallow rise his chest. He looks too prone, too dead like this. Natsuo would almost prefer the mania. Of course there's a chance he'll slide back into despair, or rage, and the sooner they get him to a stable environment (get him away, away from dad) without all these triggers the better.

Ever wary of breaking the fragile calm, Natsuo lifts his brother up by the shoulders, just enough to wrap his arms around him in a hug. Touya goes rigid, recoiling against any hint of affection. The hands that have burned countless others fall slack, neither reciprocating nor struggling. Gradually, the erratic beat of his heart slows to a steady thrum.

"I don't why you exist, but I'm happy you do." The smell of soot and chemicals flood his senses, and it's gross but at least it's real. Proof that however awful the reunion is, it really is his brother. Natsuo chokes out a watery laugh and hugs him tighter. "I'm so happy to see you."

His shirt is damp where Touya's nose is pressed and he wonders if Touya can cry, considering the scars... Wonders if maybe he wept too much when they were young and doesn't have any tears left to spare. It doesn't matter, since Natsuo has plenty for both of them.

The noises from the battle have dwindled, as Machia's subdued and more heroes arrive. It won't be long before they pry them apart to take Touya into custody. He swallows thickly at the notion of his brother in prison, barred from the care his condition requires, but it's all he can do for now to ensure he's safe. Safe from himself, anyway. If the heroes think they can pull the same shit as they did with that other villain Twice, well-

They'll have to get through Natsuo first.

#bnha #bnha fic #dabi #touya todoroki #natsuo todoroki #bnha 291 #i'm not saying natsuo could've ended this war already with compassion and less bloodshed- #oh wait yes I am #anyway stan natsuo

[eddiealfano]

Why I Finally Got This Stupid Vaccine

I finally got this stupid vaccine. Didn’t want it. Probably didn’t need it. But I got the stupid thing. I didn’t, “burst into tears of joy” as some of my more dramatic friends emotionally posted on Social Media after their vaccination. I didn’t worry that Bill Gates was one step closer to his grand plan to reduce the population, as some of my other dramatic friends warned me. I only felt apathy.

I am 45-years-old. I lift weights. I run sprints. I eat a diet consisting of food that is intended for human consumption. I do literally hundreds of things to take care of my personal health and well-being. I am the guy my friends call when they have questions related to all things fitness. I don’t believe in, “Western Medicine Solutions” for problems that can be solved naturally. Needless to say, I wasn’t excited to get a vaccine for something like Covid.

My Pandemic experience was probably different than yours. While I watched friends, neighbors and loved ones react in fear and hysteria, I had zero concern about getting Covid. I didn’t buy hand sanitizer. I didn’t “social distance’’ from anyone. I traveled frequently. I kept hugging my 84-year-old parents. I only wore those silly masks in situations where businesses required me to do so. 

Am I reckless? Do I simply not care about humanity? Nothing could be further from the truth. I’m someone who realized very early on what this virus actually is: A disease of the metabolically unhealthy. Unfortunately, the Archaic Science of 2021 cannot figure that out. Or perhaps the Politics of 2021 won’t allow the Archaic Science of 2021 to figure that out. But it doesn’t take a brain surgeon to look at data readily available at Google.com to see that this disease astronomically disproportionately affects the elderly and the unhealthy.

Before the, “But you can still get it even if you’re healthy!!” crowd blows a gasket, I’m sure someone who fits my health profile could theoretically get hospitalized or even die from Covid. Just like they could get hit by a coconut falling from a palm tree. I don’t live in fear of those odds. I know people who’ve been hospitalized with Covid. I know people who’ve died. Not a single one of them was what I would term “healthy.” I haven’t even anecdotally heard a story of someone having a difficult time with Covid who met my definition of “Actually Healthy.” But that’s probably because less than 5-percent of Americans would meet my definition of “Actually Healthy.” And that’s a real problem. It’d be great if “The Science” were doing something to help solve that problem.

On that note, what about The Almighty Science?  Here’s the thing: Historically, it’s wrong a lot. Especially when it comes to human health. If I trusted The Science, I’d still be eating a “heart-healthy” high-carb, low-saturated-fat diet as described by the wonderful Food Pyramid. I’d be avoiding egg yolks while enjoying my fat-free muffins and canola oil. Heck, I’d even be sure to minimize my consumption of the most nutrient-dense food known to man. That’s red meat, in case you were still trusting The Science and not trusting millions of years of human history, Intuition and Common Sense. Fortunately, I stopped blindly trusting The Science when it comes to my own health and it has made me much healthier than any Scientist or Doctor I’ve ever met. 

I approached this Pandemic the same way I do Flu Season or any other time of year when, “something is going around.” I focused on taking care of my health and making myself a less desirable host for viruses. I didn’t turn other people into loaded weapons that could harm me. I didn’t cross the street when I saw a stranger walking my way. And I certainly didn't try to “kill the virus” with absurd solutions like hand sanitizer or Lysol spray. 

So if I feel this strongly against the mainstream narrative regarding health and Covid, why did I get this stupid vaccine? Was it because of all the virtue signalling from Politicians and friends on Social Media telling me to, “do my part?” No, that just made me want it even less. I already “do my part” by keeping myself healthy and not falling victim to viruses in the first place. I don’t need someone eating a free Krispy Kreme Donut holding their vaccine card and telling me what I should do to keep America healthy. And I definitely don’t need someone who relies on Western Medicine for all their health concerns telling me how stupid the unvaccinated are.

So it must have been “The Highly Contagious Delta Variant” that finally made me get the vaccine, right? Do a shot every time you hear that phrase mentioned on the news and you’ll be passed-out drunk by 8:30 AM. And no, it wasn’t the highly contagious Delta variant. It’s clearly a weaker variant of Covid. I mean, trust The Science on that, right? I guess that’s the least interesting detail about the Delta Variant and why should we stop the media’s fear-mongering panic party just because of details?

So why did I end up getting this stupid vaccine? 

Because I ultimately don’t think it’s that big of a deal. When I realized my future employers would more than likely be instituting vaccine mandates, I started researching how I could get a Religious exemption. I was ready to die on this hill of not letting people less healthy than me tell me how to take care of my body. But then I realized I was fighting a battle I didn’t even want to fight. Why was I suddenly so against getting a vaccine? I’d gotten every other mandated vaccine and never gave it much thought. Sure this one was rushed and it's for a disease I don’t fear, but that doesn’t change the fact that I do believe in vaccines and their importance to human history.

I’ve had lots of conversations with people in the ���anti-vax” community. They range from some of the smartest, educated people in the Health & Fitness world to some of the craziest loons you will ever meet. There is a genuine conversation we should be having about vaccines, but it is getting hijacked by the wild conspiracy theories. Are there unknown side-effects to vaccines that the Archaic Science of 2021 does not understand? Of course there are. There’s no such thing as a “biological free ride.” You don’t get to use Western Medicine without consequences. This is true of antibiotics. It’s true of pain medications. It’s true of every aspect of Western Medicine, and that obviously includes vaccines.

But do I think vaccines will be the “smoking gun” that we find out about in the future and they wonder what in the hell those crazy folks back in 2021 were thinking? No. That will probably be cellphones. Or genetically modified foods. Or any number of the overly-prescribed prescription drugs half our population has no problem popping every day. I don’t know why we are singling out vaccines as “the thing.” We may eventually learn of new side-effects, but I don’t think they will be any worse than what we discover about all these other stupid things we currently have no problem doing.

I have good friends who don’t want to get this vaccine. A lot of people I love. And unfortunately, a lot of them are unhealthy. I mean, REALLY unhealthy. Some are cancer survivors. Some eat fast food every day. Some smoke cigarettes. Some take multiple prescription drugs. Whatever your thoughts on vaccines, for God’s sake, can we agree these people are better off with the unknown risks of the vaccine than the risk of getting Covid? I’ve been encouraging these friends to get the vaccine and it was making me feel like a hypocrite for not getting it myself. How can I recommend something, say it is mostly safe, but be unwilling to take it myself? And if the Conspiracy Theorists are right and Bill Gates IS out to get us… he’s going to get us. If not with the Covid vaccine, then with the next Windows update. Or he’ll poison our drinking water. We simply can’t win against an evil Bill Gates, folks.

So that’s why I got this stupid vaccine. I genuinely didn’t think it was worth all the energy I was putting into resisting it. I’m not one to back down from a battle, it’s just gotta be a battle I truly believe in.

I don’t care if you get vaccinated or not. I don’t need you to do so in order for me to feel safe. It should be your own personal decision. But have your reasons in line with the reality of the risks of vaccines and the risks of Covid itself. Or don’t. It’s ultimately your choice.

Stay healthy everyone.

#health fitness StayHealthy Meathead