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intheticklecloset · 3 years

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Control (My Hero Academia)

Primary Universe

I really love writing about these two, whether platonic like it is here or romantically like in one of my previous fics. Their dynamic is so great, and I really love what little I’ve seen of their friendship so far. Thank you for the fun prompt! I had a blast exploring Shinsou’s quirk a bit with this one. ^^

7. “Don’t look at me like that!” “Like what?” “Like you’re going to…do something!”

Shinsou was starting to hang out around the 1-A dorms more and more these days, and Deku couldn’t be happier about it. Despite his standoffish nature and I-don’t-want-friends attitude, the boy from 1-C didn’t seem to mind that Kaminari and Ojiro had become attached to him. Deku would often see the three of them together in the living room chatting, or outside sparring, or walking to and from the school building together. It made him happy to know Shinsou was starting to feel more comfortable around their neck of the woods. And, if he was honest, he was hoping to start forming a friendship with the purple-haired boy as well.

“Hi, Shinsou,” he greeted one evening after school as Shinsou stepped into their residence, his blonde companions by his side.

Shinsou nodded at him. “Midoriya.”

This would often be how their interactions went. An enthusiastic greeting, followed by a polite return of some kind. As time went on said returns became slightly warmer, but only marginally. Deku didn’t mind. It was a start.

“Hey, Midoriya,” Ojiro said, waving at him. “We’re going to introduce Shinsou to Mario Kart. Somehow he’s never played it before.”

“What?” Deku exclaimed, staring. “You’re kidding!”

Shinsou shrugged.

Kaminari beamed. “I know, right? You want to join? It’d be cool to have four players.”

Yes! Deku leapt out of his seat. “Of course! I’d love to.”

That game – while not one-on-one – was a good ice breaker for Deku and Shinsou, as the former naturally bantered and exclaimed and laughed along with Kami and Ojiro while the latter occasionally spoke up and held conversations but mostly muttered about how his character always seemed to be going the wrong way.

After that, their greetings became much friendlier.

Deku stepped into the backyard of their dorm one Saturday afternoon with the intention of getting some fresh air. He’d been sleeping much better lately, and now that it was getting warmer outside he enjoyed spending time in nature when he could. When he opened the sliding door, he was surprised to see Shinsou sitting on the patio, staring intently into the near distance where his blonde friends were currently duking it out.

“Hi, Shinsou,” Deku greeted, taking a seat beside him.

“Midoriya,” Shinsou replied, offering a small smile.

“Are they sparring or actually fighting about something?”

“I honestly can’t figure it out myself.”

“Oh, boy.” Deku laughed, stretching and then leaning back to look up at the sky. “Nice weather.”

“Yeah.”

There was a slight pause. “Hey, do you want to spar?”

Shinsou turned to look at him, deadpan. “Midoriya.”

Deku realized how silly that sounded, now that he was getting that look. He chuckled sheepishly. “I mean, we could go quirkless. Just physical combat.”

“What purpose would that serve?”

“You know, keeping in shape. Staying on top of our reflexes.”

“In what situation would a villain ever fight without their quirk?”

Deku thought back to the quirk-ereasing serum, but then shook it off. “That’s a fair point. It was just a suggestion; we don’t have to.” Silence settled again, but a few moments later he took his notepad out of his shorts pocket and scribbled something down.

Shinsou glanced at the pad in his hand. Does he always keep writing material on him? he wondered, then froze when his eyes caught what was written on the page. It was a list, with his own name at the top. Deku was currently writing “doesn’t prefer quirkless combat” directly underneath a bullet with an entirely different theme.

According to Ojiro – really ticklish?

Shinsou felt his cheeks heat up in a blush and he snapped his eyes back up to Deku just as the boy finished writing, closing the notepad and storing it away once more. When he turned to look at him, Shinsou quickly averted his eyes, staring not at his friends in the field, but at the ground.

“Shinsou?”

Crap. What do I do? There’s no way he doesn’t notice I’m blushing.

“Are you okay?” Deku asked, sounding worried. “You look really flushed all of a sudden.”

“I-I…um…” Pull it together! “Yes, I’m fine. It’s just getting a little warm out here.”

There was a pause. “I mean, I guess it is kind of fluctuating between warm and cold.”

He knows I’m lying.

“Midoriya,” Shinsou started, then stopped. Great. What do I say now? He’s looking at me. Say something! “I…I’ve changed my mind. I wouldn’t mind sparring.”

Deku blinked. “Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, uh…kind of.” What am I doing? “I want to…try something. But…it would require me using my quirk on you. Only if it’s okay. I’ll never use it on you outside of combat.”

“Isn’t sparring combat?”

I am digging my own grave here. Shinsou was growing more flustered by the moment, but he plowed onward, uncertain why he was suddenly following this strange train of thought. “What I want to try isn’t exactly sparring. It’s, um. Endurance training.” Oh, brilliant. Truly genius, Shinsou.

But Deku looked intrigued, which encouraged him a little. “Endurance training? Enduring what?” When even more color flooded Shinsou’s cheeks, Deku hesitated. “What…what exactly are you going to make me do?”

“I won’t make you do anything,” Shinsou replied quickly. “Not if you don’t want to. But it’s not…nothing untoward. I just…” He let out a groan and ran a hand through his hair. “Forget it. It’s stupid, it doesn’t make any sense. It probably won’t work anyw—”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to,” Deku protested, sounding earnest. “I just don’t want to hurt you.”

That’s what he’s worried about? Shinsou gave him another tiny smile. “You won’t.”

After another moment, Deku nodded. “Okay. Sure. As long as you don’t make me hurt you, you can use me to test whatever it is you want to test.”

Shinsou couldn’t believe his ears. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Midoriya, are you sure? Do I have your permission?”

“You can brainwash me, Shinsou.”

And with that, his face went slack, his eyes lost their shine, and he was under Shinsou’s control.

What am I doing? Shinsou thought frantically as he watched Deku’s unmoving features and body. What am I doing, what am I doing, what am I doing?!

Still, he’d passed the point of no return. He’d followed his gut reaction to seeing that note about himself this far down the rabbit hole; he might as well go all the way now. He cleared his throat, shifted a little. Heart racing, he mustered up the courage to speak exactly two words.

“Tickle me.”

Deku moved to obey, making Shinsou flinch slightly, but he forced himself to stay put as the green-haired boy found his sides and started digging. Shinsou sputtered, giggles spilling out of his mouth uncontrollably, his cheeks heating up with flustered embarrassment as he watched Deku’s expressionless face. He knows what’s happening. Somewhere in there, he realizes what I’ve asked him to do. He knows. He knows. He knows…

And yet, Shinsou still had control. He whined, then forced himself to speak again. “Hahaharder.”

Deku increased the pressure of his tickling, moving up to Shinsou’s ribs, steadily pushing him down so he was lying on his back on the patio. Absentmindedly, Deku knelt beside him and continued tickling even harder, drawing louder giggles out of Shinsou.

I’ve still got him. “Hahahahaharder,” he said again, and again, Deku complied. Shinsou could feel his control wavering, but he still had it. “Hahahahahaharder!”

Soon Shinsou realized it wasn’t the amount of pressure Deku was applying that would make him lose control, as he was tickling about as hard as he could in this spot and the boy from 1-C still had him under his command. The only way to really test this would be to switch spots. “Stohohohohohop!” he commanded, and Deku obeyed.

Shinsou was blushing furiously, but he was also genuinely curious now, so he continued in his mission. “Straddle my thighs,” he said, “and tickle my hips as hard as you can.”

Deku swung a leg over so he was sitting on Shinsou’s legs, pinned them to the patio, grabbed his hips, and tickled with everything he had.

Shinsou tossed his head back and screamed with laughter. He lost control instantly, feeling the thread connecting his mind to Deku’s snapping in half like a twig, and after a few more moments, the tickling stopped as well.

Deku stared down at the usually quiet boy in awe. “You…you wanted me to tickle you?”

Shinsou covered his face, too embarrassed to look at him. “I wanted to know if I could maintain control while being tickled. It’s a pretty distracting thing. Clearly, when tickled in the right spot, I can’t stay in control. You can put that in your notes, too.”

“What?” Deku sounded surprised. “Wait…did you see…?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, man.” Now Deku sounded embarrassed. Shinsou dared a peek at him. Sure enough, he was blushing now, too. “I’m sorry. That was probably weird to read.”

“It turned out to be a win-win for us both, though. I got my answer, and you got to see for yourself how ticklish I am.”

Deku frowned. He still hadn’t moved from his straddling position. “I mean…technically. But I wasn’t myself. I’d hoped to catch Ojiro tickling you sometime, or maybe Kaminari.”

Shinsou looked up at him. “Is it true? Do we share a death spot?”

Deku glanced down at his hips, and something seemed to change in his expression. He went from looking slightly bothered to looking incredibly inspired and mischievous. He grabbed onto Shinsou’s hips and kneaded. “Well, let’s see.”

“GAH!!” Shinsou yelled, unable to help the flood of laughter that bubbled up and spilled out of him in response. “MIDORIYA!!”

“It certainly seems to be a good spot, but there are plenty of other places I didn’t try just now,” Deku mused aloud as though he were mentally taking note. He probably was. His fingers moved up Shinsou’s sides, skittered across his belly, tweaked his ribs, scribbled in his underarms. Shinsou was kept in constant giggles, squirming as much as possible and hiding his face a lot, but never protesting.

Finally, Deku moved back down to his hips and dug in again, beaming at the laughter he produced. “Yeah, I think we do share a death spot, Shinsou.”

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!” The purple-haired boy pleaded, squealing and shrieking. “PLEHEHEHEASE, NOT THEHEHEHEHEHERE!!”

Deku couldn’t help but laugh. “You even sound like me!”

That’s exactly what Kaminari said!

“I have to admit, it’s kind of fun tickling someone else who has the same worst spot as me.” Deku chuckled. “Now I can see what I look like to the others. No wonder everyone goes for that spot so fast. It’s fun to tickle you here!”

“PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!” Shinsou cried, trying to grab at Deku’s wrists and failing. “MIDOHOHOHORIYAHAHAHAHAHA!! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!! I’M SOHOHOHOHORRY!!”

Deku did stop, frowning down at him. “Huh? Sorry for what?”

Shinsou gasped for breath, trying to circulate enough oxygen to his brain to formulate a response. “For…um…I-I don’t know…brainwashing you?”

“I gave you permission.”

“F-For…ah…for looking in your notes? Ruining your chance to see how ticklish I am while still in control of yourself?”

Deku smirked.

Shinsou’s heartrate sped up. “Midoriya…d-don’t look at me like that…”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re going to…do something…”

“Oh, well, sorry about that, Shinsou. But I am going to do something.” Deku grabbed the taller boy’s wrists and pulled them down to his sides, pinning them there with his knees. “Because you haven’t ruined my chances to see how ticklish you are.” He grabbed his hips but didn’t tickle yet, enjoying how Shinsou gasped and flinched with a look of clear excitement on his face. “There is one thing I have to ask you, though, that I won’t be able to figure out on my own.”

“W-What?”

“Ojiro told me you ‘don’t mind’ being tickled. Since we’re already so similar when it comes to tickling, does your saying you ‘don’t mind’ actually mean you like it? Because that’s what I mean when I say I don’t mind.”

And that’s exactly what Ojiro said, too!

Shinsou couldn’t help but whine, flustered and embarrassed and blushing so hard he felt the heat of it on his cheeks. But having Class 1-A’s most fascinating student on top of him like this, so close to making him laugh again, made him give in.

“Y-Yeah,” he admitted quietly. “I like it.”

Deku smirked, and he pressed his thumbs into his hipbones, and Shinsou was lost to his laughter.

#fanfiction #tickle fic #boku no hero #my hero academia #bnha #mha #izuku #midoriya #deku #hitoshi #shinsou #shindeku #fluff #friends #control #tickling #ticklish #tickle

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 3 years

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The Rising Lady

Pair: Alcina/The Duke

Summary: Alcina, in the middle of her growth spurt, struggles to get used to her size and the gawking and commentary that comes with it. She finds common ground with The Duke who also seems to draw many stares. (AU Where Alcina knew the Duke before her mutation.)

AN: This is another experimental piece. Warning for fat shaming.

Sometimes she wishes that she could be more like The Duke. The way that he handles things with a jest and a hearty chuckle. He is hard to phase and words seem to roll right off of him. For it, he is a lucky man.

Perhaps it is that he is used to the remarks and the stares.

At best, Alcina finds them rude. At best she can offer them a scowl and comment on the impoliteness of their ogling. Mostly it makes her uncomfortable. Mostly she finds herself shifting and squirming in her chair. People never paid her much mind before, not after Miss D put down her microphone and retreated back into the shadows of her castle to endure her faulty genetics.

She is a quiet woman and was perfectly content to be an unremarkable one to boot. Sometimes she thinks that it was a mistake to trade disease for…

She stares down the extended length of her body…

For whatever this is.

She is a large woman and sometimes she still feels growing pains. Every now and then they shoot up and down her spine, along her arms and legs. Her chest and rear ache with it and on occasions, her belly. And on the worst of days she can feel the tingling sensation of the mutation in her face. On the most unbearable days it is an all over pain--on these days she grows most noticeably.

On these days she is on the floor screaming, tears streaming down her face as she begs her body to settle.

Sometimes she doesn’t think that she will stop growing. She doesn’t know what she will do when she is too tall to even duck under the doorways. She has to get new clothes, a new bed, new chairs…

And every time she does, she grows taller still. It isn’t becoming on her in the slightest. It is grotesque and sickening.

And to delicately salt a rapidly widening wound, stretchmarks have begun to decorate her chest, thighs, and tummy. Perhaps when she was some two decades younger, she thought herself attractive. She thinks that her beauty has waned since then, it was bound to…

But this? This is stealing from her the last fragments of her youth and an unhealthy portion of her confidence. And this time she is finding it difficult to put on a bolder facade. Truth be told she is terrified. She doesn’t know what she is becoming.

She is too big for her own skin. Her body is too big for the mind locked within it. And these days if feels like one very spacious prison.

She catches a glance of The Duke sitting on the other end of the ballroom. She wonders if the man had ever felt the same. She has known him for many years. She knew him when he was merely a boy. She knew him when he was much slimmer. Relatively speaking anyhow. She supposes that people always stared at him, have always had some comment to make about his size.

And maybe this is exactly why it bothers him none.

The village folk stare at him too. “How does that tiny cart hold up such a large man?” They ask.

“That’s no man, that’s a…” cow, hippo, elephant, bull--Alcina wonders which they will pick this time.

“I think even elephants ain’t that big.” Responds another man. “That thing could kill an elephant, I reckon.”

And somehow, Alcina finds herself furious on his behalf. Furious where he only chuckles and says, “Just give me a chance and good footwear and I can wrestle a rhino with my bare hands!”

Maybe this is why he is left well alone after the initial remark. Of she and her transformation they say more unpleasant things, crass and vile things. Things that she doesn’t like to repeat even privately to herself.

She no longer feels right in her body, if she had ever felt secure in it at all. And sometimes she feels like an object. They make her feel like an object between their open stares, their routy whistling, and their constant remarks.

Somewhere down the lines she stopped being Miss D. And then she stopped being Alcina Dimitrescu. She is now, ‘the big lady’, ‘the tall lady’.

Alcina burrows deeper into her coat, she tries to anyhow, only to find that she has grown even further. Alcina closes her eyes and very silently begs her coat to just fit, but she can’t seem to reach it across her bosom, much less get it to button up. Perhaps she is, in her dismay, only imagining it, but her shoes feel tighter and when she looks down she can swear that her legs are longer still. Hadn’t her coat reached past her knees only moments before?

She has gotten quite used to waking up to find herself less comfortable in her bed and night gown. But this? She hasn’t ever grown before her very eyes.

And she feels nothing at all.

She wishes that a soreness or a burning sensation would accompany her growth. At least then she would know for sure that her mind isn’t playing tricks on her. She hasn’t even that sort of reassurance.

She has reached eight feet now.

Eight dizzying, disorienting feet.

“Look at the big lady!” The girl can’t be older than twelve. “She’s even bigger now!” She doesn’t draw her brother’s attention but also the attention of nearly the entire market square. Everyone should like to take a gander at the strange, big lady.

At least now she knows that it isn’t her imagination.

Her clothes suddenly feel much too tight for her, much less breathable. She isn’t sure if it is a physical sensation or the product of anxiety that grows at a rate faster than her body. She hugs her arms around her chest. She was a fool to trust Mother Miranda.

Beautiful, youthful, and healthy Mother Miranda, who has swapped one of her torments for a new one.

At least a blood disease is rather common. At least it is expected of a Dimitrescu woman. This...she clutches herself tighter…is unnatural. This is...

“Good evening m’lady.” The Duke greets. She feels the bench dip under the weight of him and frets that it will splinter under their combined weight. “Having a dreary evening?”

Alcina nods, “I can’t leave my castle without getting stared at.”

“Aye...of course they are staring, you are a beautiful lady, Miss D.”

She clears her throat. “You are a charming man.” She notes. “But I don’t think that, that is why they’re staring at me.”

He offers a sympathetic chuckle. “Yes, perhaps not.” He shifts from side to side, it takes her a moment to realize that he is feeling for a lighter in his side pockets. Upon finding it, he plucks a cigar from his chest pocket. “Fancy a smoke?”

“A drink would be more helpful.” She confesses.

“You’ll make me waddle all the way back to my stall?”

“If you’ll be so kind, Duke.”

For only a moment, the time that it takes him to walk to his stall and back, attention is taken from her. Her heart aches for the man; he’s a strange one but a good natured one. Perhaps the only gentleman left in this damnable town. And they treat him with such disrespect and mockery. It isn’t enough to rudely gawk. No, they also have to mimic his wide gait and make attempts to shove him over.

By God, were she him she would shove them down and crush them. He could be quite a punishing force were he a cureler man. She wonders how long it will take before the villagers make a game of trying to topple her. She wonders how long it will take before she grows sick of them and tests her own strength. She can’t imagine that this body is just for show. It isn’t as frail an delicate as the one she’d had before.

“You gonna share with the lady or is that all for you?” She hears someone quip.

“If it was for me there’d be a lot more food than this!” He declares proudly. He comes back with a bottle of wine and a raspberry spongecake.

“You spoil me, Duke.” She takes the treat.

“You have been having a troubling week, Lady Dimitrescu. I thought that I would bake something special for you.” He takes a drag from his cigar.

She could very much use special. It is nice to feel special and sometimes the Duke makes her feel just that. “How do you do it?” She inquiries.

“Hmm?”

“How do you put up with all of the leering and commentary.”

“Truth be told, m’lady, I’ve been hearing it my entire life. Remarks lose their impact when you’ve heard the worst of them incessantly.”

Incessant. That is a good word for what the remarks are. “At least they aren’t constantly salivating over your chest, Duke.”

“You would be surprised, m’lady. They might fancy my chest more than yours.” He wiggles his brows.

“You disgusting oaf.” She grumbles.

He only laughs louder, it is the deep and booming sort. “I jest.” He says, wiping a tear from his eye. “Honest, I just.”

Alcina sighs, “you jest too much for you own good, I think.”

“Perhaps so.” He replies. His expression growing suddenly and uncharacteristically dim. “But if I didn’t jest, I don’t know that I’d be able to smile at all.”

“That’s how you do it.” She nods. “You make jokes so that they cannot.”

“It’s a learned skill.” He confirms. “You won’t need comedy, Miss D. You have sophistication and a pretty face.”

She thinks that her pretty face may be part of the problem. A double edged sword that brings her a last scrap of confidence at the same time as it seems to attract the most dull of men. “My face isn’t what troubles me, Duke.”

The man nods. “I can imagine. You have changed. And not slowly either. It must be difficult to adjust.”

“Yes.” She takes another dainty nibble of her cake and a less than refined swig of wine.

“Well those simpletons would do well to respect you. I mean look at you…” she tries not to do that. “You can break any one of them.”

“Why haven’t you? Crushed one of them I mean.”

“I could but then I’d be down a customer. They have a lot to say until I tell them that the shop’s closed and they’ll have to get their wears elsewhere. They’re all gentlefolk then. Hell, they’re even willing to pay double.”

“At least someone in this town has intellect.”

“And it’s all right here.” He chuckles with a sturdy pat to her knee.

Her face flushes lightly, “it isn’t quite as lonely when you make your rounds, Duke.” She doesn’t feel quite so freakish when he is around. And maybe it is that they are very like each other. They are both big people. Perhaps the both of them have outgrown this loathsome village. If only fleetingly, she wonders what it would be like to escape it with him. To find a new place and live out the rest of her days in the man’s company. But then she comes back to herself and she knows that she cannot. She is an oddity in this village, a thing to marvel at in a place teeming with bizarre things and curiosities. To stray to another? Impossible.

A silence falls between them. He watches smoke lazily drift up to the sky and she, for what must be the hundredth time, studies and scrutinizes her body. Tries to make herself comfortable in a chair that is meant for people several feet shorter. Tries to make herself comfortable in skin and bones that have stretched well beyond what they were supposed to. At curves that are too new and too pronounced for her comfort.

She steals a glance at the Duke. He leans back, one hand holds the cigar in place and the other rests upon his stomach. He looks quite relaxed. He looks cozy and self-assured.

Perhaps in due time she will learn to appreciate her supple curves and accept what she has become.

Perhaps in due time she, like the Duke, will have a confidence to match with her size.

#Alcina Dimitrescu #Lady Dimitrescu #Alcina/The Duke #Resident Evil #Fanfiction

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autisticcassandracain · 3 years

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Braids and Cuts

Fandom/Characters: Batman Comics, Cassandra Cain & Duke Thomas

Wordcount: 1475

Summary: Cass convinces Duke to cut his hair with her, and suggests getting braids. Duke has mixed feelings. The last person who'd done his braids was his mom.

Notes: Written for @duketectivecomics’s Duke Week Day 6: Family Bonding! I tried my best to do my research to be respectful and realistic, but I’m white, so if I got anything wrong regarding natural hair, please let me know! You can read this on AO3 here!

///

The Wayne Manor bathroom closest to their bedrooms - because there was more than one, he’d never get used to this mansion no matter how long he spent in it - was still larger than Duke’s old bedroom, which made it easily large enough to drag a truly gigantic standing mirror in there, so they’d be able to see the back of their heads without the hassle of a handheld mirror. Duke laid their guards out while Cass stood in front of it.

“Who’s first?” Cass asked, angling her head so she could see both her sides.

“You, ‘cause mine’ll probably take longer.” Plus, he hadn’t entirely decided whether he’d go through with it. It’d taken quite a while for his hair to grow back this long, and even cutting half of it off was... daunting, to say the least.

When you can’t jump off rooftops, just cut your own hair, you’ll get about the same adrenaline rush.

“I want just one side shaved,” Cass reminded him while she sat back in the chair.

Duke pulled out a clipper and rolled his eyes. “I know, you’ve only said it about three hundred times, but thanks for the reminder.”

“You’re welcome.”

“So, lowest guard?”

The mirror reflected Cass’s huge grin. “Yup.”

It was easier than Duke had expected it to be, but then again, Cass’s hair was straight as a board. The scissors went in almost as easy as the clippers, and before he knew it, half her head was gone and shaved.

And yeah, it actually did look pretty damn good.

Admittedly, Duke had been skeptical when Cass’d first suggested getting dual haircuts. Not just because he’d never done his own hair, but because Cass’s fashion sense was... questionable. Sure, she had strong opinion on how she should look, which was something. It was just unfortunate that none of her opinions were any good. She’d been known to combine every colour in the visible light spectrum in the same outfit, socks with crocs, and just straight up rip off pieces of her clothes if she didn’t like how it looked. Sometimes it worked. Most of the time, it really didn’t.

But she’d come prepared with a photo album of approximately a thousand different tapered cuts, saved sides, and every braid, loc, and twist combo with those you could imagine, and, well. When Duke’d first started growing out his hair again, he’d hoped it would lead to him finally learning how to be creative with it, like his mom was. In practice, he’d done absolutely nothing, except narrowly keeping it alive. Maybe it was time for a chop.

“You sure you don’t want me to do the other side?” Duke asked, fully expecting a no.

Instead, Cass paused, looking in the mirror, angling her head this way and that. Then, she grabbed the clippers from his hand, and raked it through her hair.

“Cass!”

“I’m doing a buzzcut.”

“I thought you said you wanted one side? You were pretty adamant about it!”

“Changed my mind.”

“Why?”

“Queer reasons.”

Duke rubbed his nose. “Sure, okay, whatever makes you happy. But can I at least finish it?”

Cass paused, cocked her head a little, then handed him the clippers.

“Thanks. And I hope you’re not expecting me to cut everything off.”

“Nope.”

“Good, because I spent way too long growing it for that.” And with that, he started shaving the rest of her head.

Around the time he was busy trying not to cut her ear off (easy, with the guard, but still), Cass said, “You should get yellow yarn braids.”

Duke threw her an incredulous look through the mirror. “You’re either wildly underestimating how long yarn braids take, or my patience.”

“You like them,” Cass insisted.

Which, yes, she wasn’t wrong, but, “How could you possibly know that?”

“You kept coming back to them. In the style collection.”

And, yeah, he had. Sure, getting yellow yarn braids was about as ironic as writing ‘I AM THE SIGNAL’ on the side of his head, but it was just such a cool look. He could save both sides of his head and keep them long, or shave only one and make them shorter, and both would be amazing.

“I’m not getting them,” he said. He shut the clipper off. “There, how do you like that?”

The only thing left on Cass’s head were tiny, prickly hairs, that she immediately went to rub her hand across. She stood up and twirled a bit in the mirrors, wearing a huge grin. “Love it.”

“Glad to hear that.” He gave her the clippers. “Go wash that, I should probably section my hair first.” She gave him a thumbs up and moved towards the sink.

They worked in silence for a little while, Duke carefully separating his hair with a comb and moisturizing it, while Cass washed and dried the clippers. The sound of running water would’ve been soothing if Duke wasn’t running high on nerves.

“Can I do it?” Cass asked.

“Cass, I love you, but I’d rather die than let you anywhere near my hair.” He gestured towards her hand. “Give me the clippers.”

And with a pout, she handed them over and hopped onto the washing machine to watch.

Well. No putting it off anymore.

He put the clippers to his head and went to work.

It wasn’t as difficult as he’d expected it to be. He slowly worked over his head, making sure to keep his eyes on the mirror, even as he could feel Cass staring at him.

“I could do the braids,” she offered, from atop the washing machine.

“What part of ‘I’d rather die than let you near my hair’ did you not get?” Duke answered, barely paying attention.

“You used to have braids.”

That made him pause his clipping. “How do you know?”

“Saw pictures at your house.”

“Ah.” He’d taken them down for a while, after he’d come out, but he’d taken a few kid photos with him in foster care, after his parents... you know. It was comforting to hold onto these memories, and over time, it had stopped being strange or embarrassing to see himself look like a little girl. Even a bit nostalgic, in a weird way.

Which might be why he was considering bringing back the styles he’d worn before he’d come out. It made him remember the way his mom used to braid his hair. She was a fast braider, had to be, with box braids being her preferred style. She wore them for as long as she could get away with it, preferring natural looks for her own hair, but gladly braided his with as many beads and bright colours as he asked. He’d never actually been to a professional; braiding had been his and his mom’s little ritual, over the weekend, with Netflix or songs in the background. They’d only stopped when he’d come out and clipped his hair short.

“My mom used to do my braids,” he simply said, and Cass made an understanding noise.

“Don’t you want to learn?” she asked.

On the one hand, he did. He’d always wanted to learn, to be just as fast as his mom. On the other hand, he really, really didn’t. He just wanted his mom to do them for him, forever. Or at least for another few years, to make up for lost time.

Also, on a lighter note, he didn’t feel like sitting still for like, two days, while failing to do his first pair of braids, and really didn’t feel like doing it all alone.

He’d nearly reached the end of his haircut, detangling the last piece of hair to cut before going in for precision clips. It went swift, after that, and in the end, the haircut looked good. Full on the top, low on the sides and back. Mom had always had a full head of hair, but he felt like braids on this style would give it his own twist.

He’d like to show it to her. Maybe she’d even be present enough to appreciate it.

“I’ll do the yarn braids on one condition,” he announced, turning to Cass.

She peaked up. “What?”

“You stay with me the entire time while I do them, and you’re not allowed to get distracted on your phone.”

She grimaced. “You’re mean.”

“You’re the one that wants me to do the braids.”

“Only because it’d make you happy.”

“And because it’d look cool?”

“I’d prefer pink. And orange.”

“Of course you do, you lesbian. Do we have a deal?”

She wrinkled her nose, but said, “Deal.”

It took way longer than he (or Cass, who complained the whole time) would have liked, but two days later, he had yarn braids that ended mid-back, with electric yellow yarn.

He couldn’t be sure, but he thought his mom liked them.

#dukethomasweek2021 #duke thomas #cassandra cain #my posts #my writing #also cass is intended to be a nonbinary trans lesbian but it didn't come up that much

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witchersjaskier · 4 years

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Idea: dragon Jaskier but he doesn't know he's a dragon (he himself is confused why he isn't aging). He only finds out when Geralt is in mortal danger and his fight or flight reflex kicks in!!!

Jaskier doesn't like thinking about time. He's a very vain creature, he can admit that - he likes his silks and colorful clothes, expensive oils, takes care of his skin and nails, even on the Path. He's vain and so he doesn't like thinking about time when he'll be wrinkled and gray and everything will hurt.

Aside from being vein, that's what scares him the most.

The idea that one day his body will refuse to cooperate, that one day he won't be able to follow his wanderlust. Won't be able to follow Geralt.

That's why he doesn't think about it at all. Yes, Jaskier's aware that he's been walking the Continent with Geralt for decades now but well, he feels okay, nothing hurts, aside from some old wounds.

He has a feeling that they're both avoiding thinking about his mortality. Sometimes, Jaskier catches his lover looking at him with sad eyes, when they pass a village where a funeral took place not long ago.

When that happens, Jaskier pulls his Witcher into his arms and pets his hair until Geralt can't think of anything but his love and sleep. It works for years.

With all the not-thinking about Jaskier's mortality, they haven't really had an occasion to think about Geralt's mortality. Jaskier makes sure his reckless lover doesn't take contracts that sound impossible to too dangerous for one Witcher, and he's always there after a hunt to take care of his wounds.

However, it turns out that monsters are not what's really a threat to Geralt's life. Jaskier stares in horror at the small army of the local Duke that apparently doesn't want to pay Geralt the small fortune he owes the Witcher for the nest of vampires.

They look at the armed men, aware that there's no way they can leave this place alive.

"Go," Geralt snarls at him, gripping a sword. "They don't want you."

"Like fuck I'm leaving you," Jaskier hisses, suddenly angry. People are coming for his Witcher and he hates it when people come for his Witcher.

Geralt is...precious to him. No one gets to hurt his precious Witcher.

Suddenly, there's something warm in his chest. Warmth that grows and spreads until it feels like he has a blazing fire in his chest, rumbling and tumbling until it's ready to spill.

"Geralt, run," he manages to gasp before the world shakes and everything shifts.

When Jaskier opens his eyes again, his wings are spread and he feels invincible. He doesn't know what's happening aside from that fact that these people are a danger to his treasure and he will kill them all.

He roars, head thrown back and spots fire at them, just above their heads, watching in satisfaction as they scramble and panic, screams rising on the hill.

His treasure his hidden safely by his side and Jaskier curls his tail around Geralt, pressing him close.

"Jaskier?" he hears from behind when they're left alone and it's another strange instinct to shift smaller and smaller until he's in Geralt's arms.

"I remember," he gasps.

#witcher #the witcher #jaskier #geralt #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #my writing #ask #dragon jaskier #is it a memory spell?#yes #how old is jaskier really?#idk man

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artxyra · 4 years

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Ok so I don't know if your still taking requests but if you are it's daminette and marinette is over so the whole wayne family and her are chilling and they think they hear someone so they do a heartbeat scan and they count an extra one so they're searching they manor and they're on guard they alfred ask all the girls if they're pregnant and the guys are nervous because one of them could be a father so they scan all the girls and they find out mari's preggo and it's a whole chaotic ordeal

Note: Sorry this took so long, I was trying to figure out the best way to tell this story and I finally got the idea after watching TT episode Fear Itself.

Whoever’s idea was it for the family to watch a horror movie during a fucking thunderstorm, Marinette just wants to end their lives. She was having a good day despite feeling sick in the morning, so being informed that tonight’s movie was horror-based was interesting. The majority of the time, a horror movie wasn’t a bad idea, but the moment the film ended, and the lights randomly shut off, the screaming begins.

For a house filled with heroes vigilantes, they sure do know how to scream and act like they’re in a horror movie real quick. Marinette could feel the need to throw up grow as the sense of someone watching her suddenly grows. At first, she thought that it was Damian or any of his brothers, but how could that be when everyone disperses the second, they heard movements that were not from either of them. Damian was reluctant to leave Marinette to her own device, but since the manor was so large splitting up was the best option.

“Come on, Mari, you’re Ladybird, stuff like this is nothing.” Marinette murmurs to herself in an attempt to keep her nerves at bay. That doesn’t go well, as the creaking noise suddenly fills the hallway. She sure hopes that it’s the air conditioner making those sounds. Marinette was slowly regretting not taking Alfred’s lead and follow him to the kitchen, at least she knows the kitchen area better than the damn halls. The amount of time she still gets lost in the halls just to find the gym is an outlandish number.

Ding. Ding. Ding.

Clenching her teeth, she fumbles to unlock her phone. Despite using it as a flashlight, she also didn’t want to accidentally turn the only source of light off. The second her phone unlock, thunder and lightning decided to join forces making her jump at the sudden flash of light and a loud boom.

“I am so killing Jason…” She mutters. Finally, she is able to see the notification. It was a series of messages stating clear and the location. There were at least five out of the nine that were currently in the manor. They had invited Duke, but he opted out the second he realizes who was picking out the movies. Apparently, any movie chosen by Jason could only mean bad things and Duke, surprisingly, wanted nothing apart of it.

The creaking noises remain active, something that made walking down the hall and looking for a potential intruder much more difficult. Had the creaking stops, this would have been much easier to delegate which room needs searching.

Back downstairs, the Bat-family all decided to meet up in the living room. Marinette had yet to make an appearance. Damian was growing impatiently worried for his beloved, so much that he was practically stabbing the ground with one of many katanas.

“Master Damian,” Alfred chastised seeing the new marking on the floor. Great another reason to keep buffering the floors at least twice a month. Alfred knows that everyone’s worries were running high. They still had yet located the cause of the sound—a potential intruder—and it’s not like they would go into the Batcave without a problem, but they didn’t want to take that chance.

“She should have been here by now,” Damian grumbles placing the sword back into its sheath.

“Demon, we’re talking about Pixie, the girl literally has problems getting to the gym every once in a while, and that’s with light.” Jason’s words slowly dawned on the family. He’s right. Marinette may be officially apart of the family now, but the designer literally stays in like five places within the manor: hers and Damian’s room, the kitchen, the living room, the bathroom nearest to her, and the Batcave. Beyond those options, it’s better for Marinette to have a guide, which is usually Titus, and sometimes Alfred when he doesn’t have anything to do.

“I got the tracker ready, sir. Should I place it on heartbeat mode?” Alfred shows them the tracking device with a knowing look on his face.

The Batbros race to the device only for Tim to grab it and put it in the right settings.

“Hold on, wouldn’t it better to search for heat signatures?” Dick asks—well he was thinking aloud for the most part.

“Ideally yes, but the readings can become messy if we’re all in the same room or if what we are dealing with doesn’t radiate heat. It’s best to go with a pulse or in other words a heartbeat. Got any more questions, Dick.” Tim states glaring at his oldest brother. They were all worried about Marinette, but it was upped times ten. “Now are we going to try and find ‘spresso and whoever even dared to enter the manor?” Tim was a man on a mission. In fact, they all were.

No one dared to object to Tim’s claims. Damian was impatiently tapping his feet against the ground, and soon there were thirteen pulsing dots going off the tracker. Tim mentally did a headcount, with him included there were nine people in the room with him which means four of the dots are in unknown locations.

“So, which one do we follow?” That was the question on everybody’s mind.

“We go to the one that is alone, with a faint pulse.” On the device, several feet away is a flickering dot as if there was some interference in picking up the heartbeat. It wasn’t stable.

“Damian, where are your animals?” Barbara asks typing away on her phone. She may not be at the bat-computer, but she can still manage with Wi-Fi and a portable device.

Damian wasn’t sure where his animals are. He knows for a fact that Alfred the cat was in his room, Titus disappears to hang out with Ace every now and then. The rest of the animals are most likely outside in their miniature houses that he keeps at the manor for nights like these.

“No time to argue, we got to move.” Tim was already ahead of the family following the path guided to him by the tracker.

The bat-family follow the strange signal until they reach a dead end. All the doors were shut, and the thunder was booming with no means to stop. They haven’t seen or heard from Marinette since they disbanded earlier that night. Soon, the faint pulsing signal grows stronger as they approach the final door. No one, aside from Alfred, could remember what was behind that door. It was a bedroom.

“Whoa” Tim yelps, looking down at the tracker. There are now twelve pulsating dots on the device. They all filter into the room. It was practically empty which put them all on edge. Marinette was somewhere in the manor and now there were in an empty room with no clues on where to start.

Using their flashlights, they scan every inch of the place and still found nothing. Alfred takes the device away from Tim who protested but when he realized that it was Alfred he calms down.

“I don’t think there is another person in the manor,” Cass states looking around the room. She was eyeing the large wardrobe. If her hunch is correct, then she knows where the newest pulsing signal is coming from and that makes her giddy.

“I concur with Miss Cain.” Alfred walks over to the second door that is in the room and opens it revealing a certain black Great Dane wagging his tail happily yet protectively. He barks but upon seeing his owner, he calms down. “It appears that one of the signals is Titus and with him being her it only means that Miss Marinette is in this room. Perhaps in the wardrobe.”

The second the word “wardrobe” escapes the butler’s lips, all the bat-bros rush over to the item. Damian was quick to open it and there she is. Marinette’s small enough to fit comfortably on the base and stay hidden had there been any clothes on the rack. In her arms is a small pup, probably the intruder that has been haunting them. The pup’s nails are long and need to be cut. Marinette was sleeping which made it easier for Damian to scoop her into his arms.

The pup wakes up and begins barking yelping up a storm causing Marinette to stir in Damian's arms. Her eyes flutter open and a yawn escapes her lips.

“Is it morning already?” She yawns once more rubbing her eyes. Damian shakes his head causing Marinette to pout and try to find comfort in Damian’s arms to fall back to sleep to, but the pup in her arms wasn’t having it. “Oh quiet, you.” Marinette laughs and tightens her hold on the pup.

“That doesn’t explain the strange pulsing signal?” Steph states looking over Alfred’s shoulder and once more a signal was faltering without a constant beat.

“That’s because I believe, Miss Marinette is currently with child.” Alfred places the device down for everyone to see. “We have the heartbeat tracker on pulsing signals that can be easily translated to a heartbeat. If Miss Marinette, is indeed with child, the interference to this signal is the pulsing from the fetus.”

Alfred pause for a second giving everyone to process the news. Damian’s exe. was broken as he stares at his wife with love and shock. The rest of the family, aside from Cass, was blinking away the shock. Five, four, three, two…one. Then they all break out in shouts of excitement.

“Oh my god, we’re going to be uncles!” Dick exclaims bouncing in place. He even wraps his arms around Damian, who was still frozen and gives him a side hug knowing full well that he can’t protest.

Jason looks like he was about to kill someone—more or less Damian for a matter of fact. Marinette was his sister in everything but blood. Yes, he’s excited for the incoming member of the family, but he doesn’t know what to do.

Tim was trying to wrap the news around his head. He hadn’t had any coffee since before the movie night started and with the power being off, there’s no way for him to make his usual late-night cup of coffee.

“Will you shut up; I’m trying to sleep here,” Marinette growls bring the attention back to her. Damian did the only thing that came to mind, he places a kiss upon her lips. Marinette moans and she would have playfully hit him had her arms weren’t holding the pup.

“So, no one is going to question how a puppy got into the manor?” Steph asks pointing to the pup still in Marinette’s arms. She was tempted to coddle the pup and leave the room to return to her own and news come back to life in the morning.

“Titus’s doggy door, most like. I won’t know until I check all the cameras.” Barbara says wheeling herself over to the couple, “Congratulations Damian…I’m going to bed.”

“We are so talking about this in the morning,” Dick claims as he walks out the room pushing Jason and Tim along with him.

Soon it was just Marinette, Damian, and the dogs alone in the room. Damian had a few options to consider, stay the night in this room or walk through a series of halls to return to their own bedroom. It’s late, so he chooses the former. Placing Marinette on the bed was easy once the newly introduced pup jumps out of her arms and onto the bed.

He makes sure she’s comfortable before joining her. Titus curls at the foot of the bed barking at the pup to come to him to which the pup did. Damian pulls Marinette into his chest and whispers, “Thank you, Angel,” into her ear.

“You’re welcome, Demon.” Marinette murmurs back before going off to sleep.

Who would have thought that this is how his family would find out that Damian and Marinette were expecting? This would go down as the best accidental reveal in their family history.

Tag List: *View my Tagging System guidelines for how to to be properly tagged or removed.

#maribat #daminette #ml x dc #mlb x dc #ml crossover #dc crossover #damimari #marinette x damian

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snugglycrow · 3 years

Text

My Whole World Tilted on it Axis

Book: The Royal Romance (End of Book 1)

Pairing: Maxwell Beaumont x MC (Charlie Hart)

Rights belong to Pixelberry, most characters and some dialogue belong to them.

Series Summary: Maxwell was tasked to sponsor a woman to compete for Prince Liam’s hand. During Liam’s bachelor party he had found the perfect woman! A waitress from New York with no knowledge of courtly protocol that Liam fell head over heels for. The competition is at an end and the journey is almost complete or so they thought.

Chapter Summary: At the Coronation ball, Maxwell tries to cheer Charlie up after she received a letter.

Word Count: 2,741

I tapped Charlie on the shoulder and announced myself, “Hey! I’m back.” I handed her the drink I had left to go get.

“Oh, hey Maxwell! Thank you.” Charlie squeaked, spun to face me and grabbed the drink. Sometimes when Charlie was nervous her voice would go up an octave, she claimed her voice had a mind of it’s own despite her vocal training.

“You okay?” I asked, concerned. Just earlier in the Coronation ball, we were given a letter marked urgent for Charlie. We had no idea who it came from but it was definitely threatening. She had every right to be upset.

“Yeah. This whole letter thing is throwing me off my game.” Charlie answered and her hands twitched towards her face. I could tell she wanted to run her hands through her hair but that was hard to do with her hair pinned up in a braided crown.

“You look like you could use a break. How about we get out of here for a little while and get some air?” I urged Charlie to join me hoping to get one last time we could hang out, just the two of us.

Charlie hesitated, looking wistfully towards the door. She countered “But Bertrand said to stay and socialize.” Her nose crinkled, obscuring some of her freckles, suggesting that was the last thing she wanted.

I smiled knowingly and replied “I know but it’s more important that you’re in the right frame of mind for tonight. What do you say, little blossom? It might be the last time we get to hang out before you become Queen!” I saw her swaying to my side of things and her shoulders sagged when I got to the last part.

Charlie nodded and gave in, “Okay, let’s take a break.” We gulped as much of our drinks as we could and then Charlie took the arm I offered. I escorted her outside to the palace grounds knowing her anxiety would be quelled by fresh air and no more crowds. It was very nice outside, we walked towards the ginormous fountain surrounded by a suspiciously green patch of grass. Listening to the water trickling from the fountain was pretty calming.

“It’s amazing to think about how far you’ve come, Charlie.” I mused, watching the water flow.

“Who would have thought that I would be standing here on the eve of potentially being selected as Cordonia’s future Queen?” She asked and looked at me.

“I did, you gotta believe in the person you’re sponsoring!” I gushed and I could feel the grin spreading across my face when I said that because it was true.

“Of course. You called it.” Charlie agreed, returning my smile and squeezed my shoulder in a friendly gesture.

“You know I did. Though I have to admit you’ve changed a bit since I first saw you in New York.” I observed, I always believed in Charlie. I knew she could win Liam’s heart and become queen but there was no question she had changed along the way. With the things she had been through, I’m sure anyone would.

“I don’t feel all that different! All I did was learn some courtly protocol.” Charlie argued, her brows furrowed and her arms were crossed. Uh oh, I didn’t mean to imply it was a bad thing!

“I think you’ve kept the good parts while learning some new skills” I began and winked at her attempting to set Charlie at ease. Her eyebrow raised in question but she couldn’t hide her smirk, that encouraged me to continue “You look like a natural at court now. You’ll manage fine without us. Not that I was ever very much help. I wish we could have showered with gifts, dresses and jewelry. One of the wealthier houses could’ve” I confessed, starting to feel down on myself. Charlie deserved the world and all of those things would have made going after Liam so much easier. I can’t imagine how she felt being constantly judged by others as less than.

“Maxwell! Look at me.” Charlie chastised me and waited until I locked eyes with hers, they were a pretty hazel color “I don’t need any of those things. You’re my best friend, I’m happy to just have you here supporting me and I’m also a New Yorker. We happen to be pretty tough.” Charlie insisted, she grabbed my hand and gave it a supporting squeeze. I shot back a small smile, that did make me feel a little better.

“That’s true, you’re pretty resilient. You’ve always impressed me. I think you’ve even impressed Bertrand too. It’s strange to think that you’ll be Queen soon and Bertrand and I will go back to being Duke Ramsford and his handsome brother.” I responded, agreeing with her.

“Will you two be okay? I’m worried about you guys. Even if I don’t win this thing, my home will always be open to you both.” Charlie implored looking up at me through her lashes, something she had to do a lot considering she was so small at 5’2.

“I really appreciate it, Charlie. I don’t think it’ll come to that. My feelings about believing in you haven’t changed.” I answered, earning a sigh from Charlie. My heart warmed at the thought of how much she cared about me, I’ve never had that before with anyone else.

“I’ll have to visit Ramsford often and I won’t hear otherwise!” Charlie promised, wrapping her arms around herself. Was she changing the subject? I just let it go. She’d tell me if something was bothering her.

“We can’t have a true Beaumont bash unless all the Beaumonts are there. That includes you!” I laughed until it faded into a sigh. My eyes sweeping across the grounds and over the fountain, losing myself in my thoughts.

“Hey,” Charlie started pulling me from my train of thought and grabbed my arm, her eyes gentle as she continued. “You’d tell me if there was something wrong, right?”

“Of course. I trust you.” I blurted out, I bit back at the bile building. I did trust Charlie with more things about my life than other people. I also hated lying and keeping secrets but this wasn’t my secret to tell. I had made a promise.

“Maxwell,” Charlie said. Her eyes let me know she didn’t believe me for a second. “I’m always here for you. No matter what, okay?”

“Trust me, Charlie. I’d tell you if something was wrong with me,” I insisted. I could feel my voice get strangled from my throat being tight with emotion. A tense nod from Charlie let me know she’d let this go for my sake. I really liked that about her, she’d let me open up whenever I was ready rather than pushing me for answers. We stood in a comfortable silence for a bit, the trickling of the fountain was the only thing that could be heard.

“I’ll really miss having you as part of our house, y’know? When you're queen I won’t be there to wake you up every morning. No more dragging you around to put on dresses. No more limo rides with Bertrand’s judging stare.” I joked half heartedly, my eyes meeting hers. Everything was going to change soon.

“Oh, Maxwell... “ Charlie sighed and gathered me in a tight hug. She continued “I’ll miss you, too. More than you know.”

“Really? Most people would be sick of me by now.” I murmured. I was shocked and touched by her words, eventually I remembered to return the hug.

“Come on, Maxwell. I don’t believe that for a second!” She cried out and pulled back, narrowing her eyes at me. Uh oh. I’ve summoned scary Charlie. I felt my eyes widen and gulped. “You’re my best friend and an amazing guy. Anyone who doesn’t see that is sorely missing out.” She insisted with a sad smile and playfully punched my arm.

“Okay, okay. I’ll concede for now.” I joked, bringing my hands up in surrender. Her glare got even more intense if that was possible. I changed the subject “I brought you out here to cheer you up so let’s do something wild before the announcement.”

I couldn’t help but smile at her eyes glittering with mischief, I could always count on Charlie to be a part of my shenanigans. “Okay! Let’s go!” She danced in place, too excited to even care that she was angry with me a second ago. I led Charlie by the hand back inside towards the grand staircase complete with red carpet and gold trim everywhere. Charlie looked confused, her brows knitted together.

“Max, why did you bring me to a staircase? I thought we were going to prank Bertrand or something,” Charlie asked. My heart leapt at my nickname, she rarely called me Max.

I stopped on the landing, spreading my arms and explained “Pranking Bertrand would be fun but these railings happen to be perfect for sliding! C’mon Charlie! Don’t you trust me?” I extended my hand out to her to grab. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. It was shouting at me.

“I do trust you.” Charlie grinned and grabbed my hand. Rushing up the stairs faster than I was somehow.

“Let’s do this! Ooh, we need to time it so we can reach the bottom at the same time!” Charlie exclaimed. She was so excited and got into position on the railing as soon as we reached the top of the stairs.

“Yeah! Then we can strike a pose!” I replied letting her enthusiasm infect me, for once. Charlie giggled. Great job, Agent Breakdance. Mission CCU has been accomplished. Mission objective: cheer Charlie up.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, Max. Ready?” Charlie asked me, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I nodded excitedly already in position on the railing opposite of Charlie. I counted down for us. “On three! One… Two… Three!” We slid down the railings together.

“Wooo!!” I cheered, this was so much better than it is doing it alone!

I turned my head to watch Charlie with her hands in the air yelling “Yeahhhh!” With that, we jumped off in tandem. I pumped my fist in the air and placed one hand on my hip to pose like a superhero flying! Charlie went with the badass power pose with both her hands on her hips.

“We look so badass right now!” I shouted, not bothering to contain my excitement.

Charlie nodded and exclaimed “This room doesn’t know what hit ‘em!”

“If only we had sunglasses, this place wouldn’t have been able to take how awesome we are!” I told Charlie trying to be more aware of my volume. My brother wouldn’t be happy if we became the talk of the ball over this.

“That’s the spirit, Maxwell!” Charlie cheered and gave me a high-five.

I sighed and admitted “It’s been fun, Charlie. Thanks, for that.” Charlie grinned, she surprised me by leaning in and kissing me on the cheek.

“There’s no need to thank me, Maxwell! You’ve done just as much for me if not more. I’m glad I had you through it all. Really.” Charlie assured me. I felt my goofy lopsided grin spread across my face, I couldn’t help it. My hand raised to my cheek where she had kissed me. I turned to the ballroom, I didn’t want this moment to end. Nothing would have to change, we could just stay here for the rest of our lives. Realistically, I knew we couldn’t but it was nice to think about. My hand fell to my side and when I turned to look back at my friend, Charlie seemed lost in thought.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Charlie queried suddenly looking down.

“Ask me anything.” I answered earnestly.

“Are we still going to be friends if I’m not declared queen? I mean, I know I’m only really here as a suitor for House Beaumont. And one way or another, that’s about to end.” Charlie squeaked out.

“And so you’re wondering if we’re just going to kick you to the curb if you’re not crowned tonight?” I questioned back not that there was a doubt in my mind what would happen.

“Kind of...” Charlie answered, not looking me in my eyes. She wrapped her arms around herself as if she needed protection from me of all things. It was breaking my heart seeing Charlie like this. I felt this war going on within myself desperately wanting to comfort my best friend, to hold and touch her but was that even appropriate?

“Max? Don’t leave me hanging. Please say something, even if you think I don’t want to hear it.” Charlie pleaded with me, her voice had cracked and her eyes were still glued to the ground. That broke me, I lifted her chin with my crooked finger, staring into her eyes and waited for her to look at me. For the first time ever, Charlie actually looked scared.

“Charlie. We would never do that to you. You’re one of my best friends. Actually, my best friend now that I think about it.” I reassured her and searched her eyes hoping to provide some comfort. It just felt so easy being around Charlie. I didn’t feel the need to put up the front I normally did and I could be myself around her. There was no way I’d lose that even if she didn’t win.

“Max…” She sighed contentedly. The way Charlie said my name made my heart jump, stupid heart. I’m trying to comfort my best friend.

“Anyway, what I mean is, of course Bertrand and I really, really, really hope you become queen.” I could feel my nerves getting to me. Had I gone too far? I shouldn’t have touched her but why can’t I bring myself to let go? Looking into Charlie’s eyes, my stomach swooped. She didn’t look uncomfortable and she’d certainly have no qualms about telling me to back off so why did I feel so guilty? I continued, “I mean, I think Bertrand might kill me if you don’t…” I trailed off with a nervous laugh. “But as far as I’m concerned, win or lose, you’re still part of House Beaumont and I’d never just kick you out of our lives! Never ever.” I sputtered out the end, still nervous. I let go of her. Charlie’s smile never wavered and her eyes never left mine through the end of my monologue. I stepped away taking a deep breath not wanting to do something I would regret. I’ve never had a friendship so strong before where I felt compelled to kiss someone. I ran my fingers through my hair catching her watching me still, her face flushed knowing she’d been caught.

“Thanks Max, that means a lot to me.” Charlie whispered. I almost didn’t catch it. Before I knew it, I had been tackled by Charlie and engulfed in a bear hug.

“Anytime, little blossom. I just want you to be happy.” I whispered against her hair. I stepped back from the hug to see her smile grow and blush warm her freckled cheeks once more. I loved the effect the nickname had on Charlie so I used it as much as I could. My best friend was so pretty. I continued “We should probably get back if you’re okay, that is. I hope this made you feel better.” I encouraged her.

Charlie reassured me, “Worked like a charm, Max. You always know the right thing to say.” Normally, I’m really good at distractions but always knowing what to say? That was a first for me. I wanted people to be happy even if it meant they’d laugh at my expense but with Charlie, if she wasn’t happy it felt like my whole world tilted on its axis.

“My lady.” I said with a goofy grin, I stepped back bowing like a court jester and offered Charlie my arm to lighten the mood. She giggled and took my arm. My world righted itself hearing her laugh again. “Ready to get back in there?” I asked.

She squeezed my hand and assured me, “As ready as I’ll ever be.” Charlie certainly seemed in better spirits pulling me along to the dance floor, I couldn’t keep the giant grin off my face. I was grateful for being useful to someone for once. I’d chase that feeling to the ends of the Earth.

#pixelberry #choices stories you play #choices #maxwell x mc #maxwell beaumont #the royal romance

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calpops · 4 years

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together | c.h.

@notinthesameguey said: If you're able to 👉👈What about a lazy dinner and they just talk about the wedding? Maybe they're huddled in the living room eating some pizza and they joke about wanting some pizza at their wedding and yeah

1.3k words

dates with cal masterlist

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Calum comes home late but you’re not alone, the ring on your finger keeps you company and reminds you of his promises. You don’t tire of staring at opal and silver inlaid with flecks of diamonds. It’s not just the beauty of the ring that keeps your attention but the feeling that it evokes. When the front door finally opens you turn from your perch on the couch and wave Calum over as he enters with a grin. His first instinct when he reaches you is to hold your hand, let his eyes look upon the ring and then let his lips brush the back of your hand past a smirk.

“That ring was made for you,” he says in a whisper as you pull him down onto the couch, the reality of being engaged coming down with you.

“Did you eat?” You ask, knowing how Calum’s schedule always becomes skewed when studio and rehearsal hours wear him thin. “We have left overs.”

“I could go for that,” Calum says but makes no move to get to the fridge where day old pizza lingers. Instead, he nuzzles into you and takes a moment to be with you.

Ever since the night of tears and questions of distance you’ve both gotten back on track to spending time together. No more tense moments of silence follow you, no more doubts or fears plague you during lonely nights. Simple things bring you back to normalcy. Taking an extra moment to linger with each other, spending mornings together, getting engrossed in a new book when sleepless nights ensue. Now, it’s all done with a ring on your finger and plans of a wedding in your heads.

“Let’s go together,” you suggest around a laugh when he still makes no move to get food. He whines in a low rumble at the thought of disentangling himself from your side but he complies; leftover pizza in an empty stomach too tempting to give up on completely.

After it’s heated in the oven and put on plates brought over to the couch you settle back into each other’s holds. Your legs are draped across his lap, shoulder under his arm and his free hand occasionally running through your hair. You can tell he’s tired, that a book probably won’t be read tonight, so you enjoy a lazy dinner with him and talk while you can.

“I told my parents today,” Calum says and you know he’s referring to the engagement. You had kept it between yourselves for a week, wanting to spend some alone time as fiancé’s without anyone else in the mix. “My mum squealed. She actually squealed over the phone, I think Duke’s ears hurt after.”

You laugh, head tossed back into the cushions as you imagine his mom animatedly squealing through the phone. Calum’s sister Mali and Ashton already knew, had helped pick out the ring on your finger, helped to plan the day that became a second chance.

“And your dad?”

“He couldn’t believe it at first. Then I think it hit him fully and he realized it’s you and it all made sense after that.”

You go flush at his comment. His family’s love and support means worlds and worlds to you. You remember how nervous you were the first time you met them, but then how easy it was as soon as they were near. Mali had taken to you the moment you met, his mother had hugged you like you were family without question and his father held pride and happiness in his eyes as Calum introduced you as his.

“Do you think Mali would be in the wedding?” You wonder, hoping she might be your maid of honor, knowing you want her with you and that Calum would too.

“I think if she’s not you won’t have a groom to marry because she’ll kill me,” Calum laughed but turned serious around another bite of his slice of pizza.

“A groom,” you repeat in a wondrous sigh. Calum smirks. “I can’t believe you’re gonna be my groom. I don’t think I’ve ever even seen you in a full fledged tux before.”

Calum’s smirk only deepens and his tone goes playful, “should it be blue or orange? How many ruffles?”

Your eyebrows shoot up but you wave him off. “Well that would be stupid. Then we’d be matching.”

He laughs and goes on a tirade asking you if he’d marry you in this or that. You always nod, say yes, and eventually tell him you’d marry him no matter what.

“Do we have anymore?” Calum asks, gesturing to the empty plate. “That pizza is so good, I would marry it,” he exclaims and it’s so easy for both of you to speak of marriage now it feels freeing and light. Before it was a topic to tiptoe around, to mention only late at night when the stars and moon disguised the future.

“Not if you marry me first,” you shoot back and point up at the counter where a few slices remain.

He grins, pats your legs before getting up to grab the last of it and settle back down with you.

“We should have it at the wedding,” he comments before a bite and just the word wedding is enough to excite you. His eagerness to mention it, to plan it even in small jests and jokes makes you realize how much he wants this and how much you want him.

“At the reception,” you say seriously and he turns to give you a curious gaze. “Nothing’s better than a party, some drinks and then pizza.”

“I knew I was marrying you for a reason. We could have it at the engagement party too.”

“Engagement party?” You question, completely unaware and feeling stuck in left field at the mention.

“You really think our friends will let us get engaged and not have some sort of party?” Calum rebuts lightly. “Ashton was planning one before I even picked out the ring.”

Calum finishes his last bite and leans back into the plush cushions of the couch, arms seeking you out to pull you against his chest. “I suppose that would be okay,” you muse, typically not one for making a spectacle. “But nothing too big or fancy, okay?”

Calum’s eyes dart from you to the ceiling and back again. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Just close friends?” You ask and bite your lip. “And family if they can come.”

“Your parents?” Calum questions timidly.

Your parents aren’t a subject you bring up much or much of presence in your life. They’ve never met Calum and to some it might be strange you’re engaged without your parents knowing your fiancé. But they’ve never worked that way. You’ve never been close and sometimes the distance hurts but you’ve had Calum and his family to make it feel better.

“Maybe…” you muse and lose yourself in thought for a moment. “Maybe we should invite them to dinner with just us first? That might be easier.”

“Whatever you want,” Calum replies and you believe his sincerity. “I’ll be right there with you,” he soothes as if he can feel the anxiety beating inside you. “We’ll get through it. Dinner, the party. And then we’ll be married.”

“Oh,” you smile. “It’s that simple? Why don’t we just elope?”

Calum shrugs. “I would if you wanted,” he says and rubs his hand up and down your arm. “Though it’d be a shame if no one else got to see how beautiful you’ll be in white.”

You blush. Still amazed he can elicit such reactions from you. “And you in your bright orange ruffled tux.”

He laughs and so do you. It doesn’t matter if you elope, if a crowd of hundreds gather, if you wear white and he wears orange. All that matters is you’ll be together.

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brax-was-here · 3 years

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Scarlet Briar: The Seeds of Life Chapter 10

Written by: Braxxus

Chapter 10: The First Step is the Toughest

Sometimes we chose the wrong path

The Nightmare Court moved southward through the jungle of the Auric Basin region making their way to the domain of the jungle dragon. The journey was hazardous, not just because of the mordrem, but most of the jungle’s other inhabitants were not friendly as well. They had encountered giant bizarre insect like creatures that would come in swarms, with some larger creatures projecting some kind of energy. They were passing through a section of the jungle that was thick with vegetation when Nafiona made a realization.

“Ordhram?” she spoke softly, her gaze turning to the trees above them.

“Yes, m’lady?” her subordinate replied immediately.

“It’s eerily quiet here.” She noted. “It feels as if all the jungle’s creatures have been frightened away…or killed.” She raised her hand to stop the group from moving forward.

“Listen.” The only sound heard was the breeze as the leaves rustled in the canopy, and even it sounded eerily strange. She quickly turned to her courtiers.

“We’re entering the realm of the jungle dragon.” She spoke in a commanding tone. “Mordremoth may be dead, but that doesn’t mean this area is any less dangerous. Be extremely cautious.” She looked up at Ordhram, who was stoically staring at the twisted path leading into the broken landscape ahead.

“What’s the matter, Caelan? You look a little unnerved.” One of the courtiers spoke quietly, a slight smirk on her face as she nudged him on the shoulder.

“No!” he snapped back. “No. It’s just…it’s just after all we went through…everything that has happened. Here we are. In the land of our creator. How he took control of many of us here.” Caelan was on edge. “It’s…it’s not safe for us here.” He stammered.

“Nafiona knows what she is doing.” The courtier reassured him. “There is nothing that can happen that we can’t take care of. Remember, this is for a better world.” The courtier smiled at him warmly.

“I…I suppose you’re right.” Caelan replied nervously.

“I am right.” She assured him.

“Yes, but…but what if- “

“Caelan! Stop worrying!” The courtier barked at him in a huff.

“Hold here.” Nafiona shouted as a pungent odor drifted on the wind. “Ordhram?”

“I smell it too, m’lady. It’s the smell of rotting death.”

“Scouts. Check the path ahead and report back.” A pair of courtiers bowed to Nafiona before disappearing. “We’ll wait here for them to return. Set up a guard perimeter.” She ordered.

“The battles here must have been fierce.” Ordhram stated as te courtiers moved into defensive positions around the group. “It must have been nearly constant fighting.” Nafiona nodded her head lightly. Within the hour the scouts returned.

“M’lady.” They bowed to her. “There are the remains of a battle not far ahead.”

“Then let’s keep moving.” Nafiona motioned the group forward. Moving through the dark pathways of the jungle, the smell slowly grew stronger. The path would lead them to an open area of ravaged landscape that revealed the source of the foul odor. The silent battlefield before them was strewn with corpses. Many mordrem, some pact members, and some she recognized as members of the Court. The group slowly marched forward into the field of death, spreading out checking the dead.

“The jungle dragon was throwing everything at them.” Ordhram noted looking over the bodies.

“M’lady!” one of the courtiers called to Nafiona. The duchess cautiously maneuvered around the bodies of the fallen to see what the courtier had found.

“What is it?” she looked upon the body of a courtier, its armor bearing a familiar sigil.

“The sigil of Duchess Chrysanthea, m’lady.” The courtier responded.

“She was here. These must have been her courtiers.” Nafiona turned her attention to other fallen sylvari nearby.

“M’lady, Duke Goron is here as well…or rather what’s left of him.” A courtier knelt at the partially dismembered sylvari corpse.

“Goron?” Nafiona moved slowly over to the body. “I’m sure his arrogance was his downfall.” She sneered.

“It feels like something terrible is watching us here.” Caelan complained as he looked at a fallen pact soldier.

“You think the dead are suddenly going to rise up and attack us?” another courtier asked playfully.

“It’s not funny, Pirrita. Remember the risen would just jump up and attack.” He reminded his compatriot.

“Hah! But Zhaitan is dead. They can’t do that anymore.” The courtier laughed. “What have I told you about worrying? You need to stop.”

“There is nothing for us here. Let us move on.” Nafiona ordered the group. “The prize is waiting for us.”

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“How in Tyria do you know where you are going through all these tunnels?” Ceara asked as the group followed the nuhock through the underground burrows.

“It’s easy.” One of them grumbled. “We have markings at the burrow entrance that tells us where they lead.”

Liathlas snickered playfully at the remarked. “Shush, you.” Ceara lightly snapped at her. They exited the current tunnel back into the jungle.

“This is as far as we go underground.” The nuhock stated. The group paused.

“This is...” Ceara gasped.

“The realm of the dragon.” Malyck finished the sentence as he stepped out into the darkened landscape. The air was still, and the sounds of the jungle’s creatures were silent. Thorned vines twisted everywhere through the broken terrain, standing motionless as if frozen in time, forming a nightmarish world. Ceara’s heart started racing. She felt panicked. It was the realm of her nightmares while under Mordremoth’s sway.

“I…can’t…I can’t…” She turned to reenter the burrow, only to be stopped by Malyck in front of her.

“Scarlet.” He spoke softly. She stared at him. “You’re braver than this. Is this who you really are?”

“Get out of my way! Now!” she shouted shoving past him.

“Mother…” a child’s voice drifted through her mind, causing her to take pause. She closed her eyes tightly, her brow furrowing. Images of the visions she had been having passed through her mind. The child pale tree, the sword, the crystalline vines. She breathed in deep, trying to calm her still racing heart.

“Peace…” the voice said softly. Ceara slowly opened her eyes. The world around her had grown cold and dark, wrapped in a swirling black fog. A soft glow appeared in the swirling darkness, approaching slowly. Within moments the form of the child pale tree parted the mist, floating just off the ground towards her. It slowly raised its arms out to Ceara and smiled warmly. Cautiously, Ceara stepped forward, reaching out and with great care, took a hold of the small avatar’s tiny hands.

“Have strength…” it spoke softly. Ceara felt a wave of calm wash over her as the image faded and the fog cleared, her arms slowly falling to her sides.

“I was never afraid before.” She said to herself, a lone tear slowly flowed down her cheek. She looked over her shoulder at her partners, who were looking back at her.

“Are you ok?” Liathlas asked, somewhat sheepishly. Ceara returned to them.

“We have a mission.” Her voice raspy but determined. “We have to find that seed and stop the Nightmare Court.” She looked down the dark path the lay before them, drawing a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

“How do we know which way to go?” Liathlas asked.

“The lair of the dragon is to the south.” The nuhock directed them, pointing down the path. “Follow the energy sparks.”

“Energy sparks?” Ceara turned to giant creature.

“Yes. Lightning erupts from the ground periodically in this area. It travels towards the lair.”

“Ley energy?” Ceara’s thoughts returned to Sanctum harbor.

“Start the drill!” her voice shouted through her head. “I redirected the leyline here.” She muttered quietly. “It will lead us right to…” she paused, turning to Malyck and Liathlas. “We have to hurry!” She started hurrying through the twisted landscape. Liathlas and Malyck looked at each other before following behind her. The trail twisted and turned through the vine covered landscape.

“There.” Ceara shouted spotting a small eruption of energy from a crevasse in the ground. Lightning sporadically arced across the terrain, flowing towards the south.

“What do you think we’ll find when we get there?” Liathlas shouted.

“I don’t know, but I’m eager to find out.” Ceara replied to her.

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Playing her cards carefully with a band of outlaws, Orla had managed to secure a way through the bandit-controlled areas of Brisban Wildlands. She gained the trust of a group that were travelling east which worked in her favor. Her thoughts turned to revenge.

“Amaranda. I have not forgotten. Your time is coming, dreamer.” Her face twisted in disgust.

“So, what’s your deal?” one of the bandits asked.

“Hmm?” Orla’s attention snapped back. “What did you ask?”

“What’s your deal? Why a lone Nightmare Courtier out here in the wilderness asking for help? From an unsavory group such as us?” A chuckle went through the group.

“I’d rather keep that information to myself.” She snarled as she turned her gaze away from him.

“Oooh, super-secret dark sylvari information. So, let me guess. You’re looking for some magical artifact that will grant you unlimited power that you will use to ‘destroy the giant tree and take over the sylvari’ am I right?”

“It would be best if you kept your questions to yourself.” She spat at him.

“OOooo, a little testy. Consider yourself lucky, lass, that we haven’t killed you yet.”

“Ken, leave her alone.” One of the others said. “It’s obvious she doesn’t want to deal with your nonsense right now.”

“What? Loran, since when did you side with the plants?”

“I’m not siding with the plants. I’m just sayin I got the feelin’ that eggin’ her on like that is gonna be a sorry situation for you.” Loran warned.

“Bah! She don’t look like she could even break a twig.” Ken chuckled as he playfully waved his hand as if shooing her away.

“You should silence your tongue before I silence it for you.” Orla hissed at him.

“I’d like to see you try.” The bandit snapped back unsheathing his dagger in an instant. Orla disappeared from sight.

“See, Ken. I saw what she did to Markos back at the camp. You don’t want to mess with her.” Loran cautioned his partner as the group spread out away from the bewildered Ken.

“Where are you!?” the bandit shouted as he constantly moved about looking for his adversary. “Stop with the tricks and fight fair, ya shrub!”

The group laughed at the comment. Orla suddenly appeared behind him, grabbing him around the neck and locking his arm holding the dagger in place.

“Nice try, lass.” He managed to get his other arm behind her enough to toss her to the ground. Holding on to him tightly, she was able to drag him down with her, but he managed to kick loose and rolled away from her. Both combatants got to their feet quickly.

“Come on, lass. Don’t be afraid.” Ken mused as he wiped his chin. He spun quickly, slicing his blade through the air. Orla ducked, hearing the song of the weapon as it passed over her head. She grabbed his wrist and tried to toss him to the ground again, but he grabbed her around the neck with his free arm.

“Whatcha gonna do now, lass?” He whispered in her ear. Orla watched as he slowly turned the dagger towards her as she tried to hold his weapon at bay. She stomped on the bridge of his foot with all her strength.

“Gah!” he growled. “Nice try, but that aint- “ She stomped again, hearing a snap indicating that she had broken one of his bones.

“Aaaaaah!!!” Ken cried out. He shoved her away as he reached for his boot. “She broke my foot!”

“That’s not all.” Orla snarled at him. He looked up at her just in time to feel her foot connect with the side of his head, knocking him to the ground.

“Ok, that’s enough. You taught him his lesson for the day.” The bandit Loran slowly walked over, kneeling to check on his fallen comrade. “Let’s get him up on the wagon.” A few of the group picked up their unconscious Ken and tossed him in the small carriage.

“You fight well, sylvari.” Loran said to Orla. “If you ever need a group to run with…”

“No thanks. I have all I need.”

Loran nodded his head. “Alright, then let’s get moving. We gotta make it to the camp by sundown or we’ll all be dead.”

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As the Nightmare Court marched farther south through the dragon’s realm, the terrain became increasingly difficult to navigate. Gigantic, thorned vines, that had once erupted from the ground, fractured and upheaved the landscape, creating a nightmarish world ruled by the jungle dragon. Throughout their journey, they would occasionally come across more of the dead. Rotted corpses of warriors and mordrem with no one to bury them.

“Such a shame.” Caelan mentioned as they passed another field of battle.

“Hmm?” Nafiona glanced over her shoulder at the courtier. “What is it?”

“All this fighting. How many of our people slain?” He asked solemnly as he passed by a fallen sylvari.

“What’s done is done.” Nafiona said to him. “They knew the risks coming here. They knew what could happen and they paid the price with their blood.”

“To protect Tyria from the elder dragons.” He pondered for a moment. “M’lady? Do you think it’s true that the Pale Tree is a dragon champion?” He asked her.

Nafiona paused, turning to him, staring him in the eyes. Caelan felt as if her gaze was staring into his soul. She smiled at him. “Of course, I do, young one. And that is part of the plan.” She spoke gleefully. “Imagine, if you will, the Pale Tree, a champion of the jungle dragon, under our control. Why, the Nightmare Court would have an endless army of sylvari. Just imagine, Tyria governed by our rule.” She smiled sinisterly at the thought. “And with the Pale Tree in its currently weakened state, it’s the perfect to strike!”

“But what about the commander? Surely-“ Caelan was cut off by the large sylvari.

“Know your place, Caelan.” Ordhram stepped forward. “M’lady will deal with that nuisance in due time.”

“You should watch your tongue, Caelan.” Nafiona said quietly to him. “Some words are razor sharp if not used properly.”

“I…forgive me, m’lady. I just worry that-“

“Enough!” Ordhram grabbed Caelan by the throat, lifting him off the ground.

“Ordhram, release him.” The large sylvari dropped him, causing the courtier to stumble to the ground as he gasped for air. Nafiona approached him, placing the end of her scepter under his chin. “You needed worry, young one. Everything is going to work out just as planned.”

“Yes…yes, m’lady.” Caelan bowed his head slightly to her.

“Good. Let’s keep moving.” She turned, hooking her scepter back to her belt. Another courtier slightly shoved Caelan as the group started moving again.

“But what if…” Caelan thought to himself, looking over the bodies of the long dead. “What if it doesn’t work? An army of sylvari?” He slowly meandered after the group. “Our whole creed is to live unbound by the tenants of Ventari. But do we have to destroy ourselves to fulfill a dream?” He looked ahead at Nafiona, who was busy talking to Ordhram. “A dream to rule Tyria. Are we not subjecting ourselves to the same thing? Give up being ruled by one to be ruled by another?” Caelan sighed as he quickened his pace to catch the rest of the courtiers.

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The route taken was just as twisted as the landscape through which it traveled. The trio moved as fast as they could as the land seemed to get darker and more foreboding the further south they went. Numerous times they came upon the remains of pact encampments along the path.

“They were as prepared as they could have been, it seems.” Ceara noted the remains of makeshift tools laying in the dirt near a fire pit that had long been extinguished.

“It seems they had allies to help with the fighting here.” Malyck noted, lifting the remains of a giant battlehammer laying in the dirt.

“It seems a little unnerving that we haven’t seen any mordrem here.” Liathlas stated. “If this is the jungle dragon’s domain, wouldn’t we have seen any?”

“Not unless the pact performed a complete annihilation here. This is where Mordremoth’s influence would be at its strongest.” Ceara shuddered at the thought. “If I had been here, he would have consumed me completely. I would have become one of the mordrem.” She thought to herself.

“Hey, you still with us?” Liathlas asked, poking Ceara in the shoulder.

“Yes, I’m still here. Just…just lost in thought about all this.” Looked up at a giant vine that twisted through a ridge not far away. “It’s a tad unsettling knowing what is here and what it did.” Her voice trailed off a bit as she noticed a small camp in the distance.

“The pact is here.” She spoke quietly.

“Indeed. And since we are now apparently wanted criminals by their standards, I think we should avoid them.” Malyck suggested, a stern tone in his voice.

“Is there another path around?” Liathlas asked.

“Judging by the landscape, that’s our only way forward.” Malyck looked at the fractured terrain around them.

“Maybe they haven’t been contacted by the others yet?” Liathlas suggested.

“It’s possible, but do we take the risk?” Ceara asked.

“It may be the only thing we can do.” Malyck replied.

“We could tell them we’re researchers looking for the rare flower that when prepared in a tonic it heightens one’s intellect.” Ceara muttered. Malyck stared blankly at her as Liathlas snickered to herself.

“Are you..are you serious?” Malyck asked.

“Hey, it worked before against the Vigil.” She answered. Malyck continued to stare. “What? Do you have any better suggestions?” Ceara looked at Malyck smugly, her hands on her hips.

“We don’t exactly look like researchers.” He rebuttled.

“Well, she’s dressed like a sylvari, and I’m dressed like a sylvari, and you…you’re the hired protection.” Liathlas added.

“And the rifle you’re carrying?” he motioned to the rifle slung on Ceara’s back.

“It’s a cryogenic freeze spray device.” She smirked.

Liathlas stifled her chuckling as she knew Malyck was not going to win this.

“We use this device to freeze the flower in stasis for transport back to our lab in the Grove.”

Malyck rolled his eyes, sighing. “Ok. But I don’t believe this will work.” The trio walked towards the pact camp.

“There doesn’t seem to be many around.” Liathlas noted a few members of the Durmond Priory conversing amongst themselves.

“Maybe through that opening beyond the camp.” Malyck suggested.

“Hail.” One of the scholars waved to the group. “This area is off limits to non-pact personnel. What brings you here?”

“We’re researchers from the Grove looking for certain flora here in the jungle. Especially a type of rare flower used to make tonics that could heighten one’s intellect!” Ceara quip excitedly.

The scholar pondered a moment, before looking at his comrades, one nodding to him. He turned back to the group. “Well, you seem to be in luck. We did find the rare Railatium Nocturnus growing in the moss around the base of the blighting tree in the grove beyond the cliff face.”

Ceara jaw dropped as she and Liathlas looked at each other in disbelief. They heard Malyck snort, stifling his laugh.

“Is there…is there more?” Ceara asked quietly.

“Possibly, but as I said, this area is off limits.”

“Oh, come on.” Ceara said in a huff, placing her hands on her hips. “You are going to deny us the chance of a lifetime!?”

“I’m sorry, but you aren’t allowed in the area.”

Ceara raised a finger to him. “Do you remember the first time you wanted to explore something, but you were told no? What did you do?”

“Well, I…uh…well, I snuck in.”

“Well, how do you think we feel? We traveled all the way here from the Grove to find this flower, and you are going to keep us from it because of some haughty rule.”

“Yes, but, ma’am- “

“Don’t you ‘but ma’am’ me. This is all for science.” Ceara leaned forward staring at the scholar, a disgruntled look on her face. Liathlas closed her eyes, trying to stifle her laughter. Malyck gazed out over the surrounding area keeping a calm composure.

The scholar looked back at his group, who were all laughing at him. “Ok, ok! Sheesh.” he relented. “Just be careful in there.”

“You’re so good to us.” Ceara smiled, gently tweaking the scholar’s cheek. “Ok, let’s go.” She spoke over her shoulder at her compatriots.

“You tweaked his face.” Liathlas giggled.

“I told you it would work.” They traveled through the opening, pausing at the sight that stood before them. Ceara’s heart sank as she gazed upon the remains of a blighting tree, a gnarled warped version of her mother.

“Is that?” Liathlas asked.

“That is just one of many. What Mordremoth used to create his armies.” Malyck stepped forward. “Much like the one in the corpse grove.”

Ceara’s thoughts briefly drifted back to the vision she saw in the Mists. “Well, it’s dead now.” She spoke softly.

“Indeed. Dying just as the rest of them died when Mordremoth was vanquished.”

“Do you think the seed is here?” Liathlas asked.

“If it is all the scholars here from the Priory would have found it by now.” Ceara mentioned, noting the number of pact members in the area around the small grove.

“Perhaps we should ask?”

“I don’t think that would be wise.” Malyck rebutted. “It might be seen as suspicious.”

“I have an idea.” Ceara spoke. She quickly approached one of the scholars nearby.

“Excuse me! I’d like to talk to you!” she gleefully said to the asura.

“Yes…?” He paused staring at her. “Aren’t you...” His face betrayed his suspicion.

Ceara sighed heavily, rolling her eyes. “No, I’m not. I just happen to resemble her. I get mistaken a lot, sadly” She gave him a big smile.

“I…see…” he raised one eyebrow. “Well, I’m terribly busy right now, so what can I do for you? And make it quick.”

“I’m a researcher from the Grove and we’re looking for a rare flower that- “

“It’s already been found.”

“Well, yes but are there more?”

“Unlikely, maybe further in the cave.”

“The cave?”

“Yes, that way in the rock wall on the far side of this area.”

“Oh, thank you. Has there been anything else found here? Like seeds from this tree?”

“That seems rather specific, sylvari.” He turned to her.

“Well, I am a sylvari and we kind of have a thing for plants, you know.”

He sighed lightly. “No, we have not found anything like a seed. Now, please leave. I have work to do.”

“Thank you for your time, scholar.” Ceara returned to Liathlas and Malyck. “Well, no seeds seem to have been found, but he did mention a cave on the far side of this grove. Shall we?”

“Then let’s go.” Malyck answered.

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

Orla travelled along the banks of the river that flowed through the southern part of Brisban Wildlands. She travelled as far as she could with the bandits, before breaking off from them without a word. The area she now travelled was populated by inquisitive Asura going about their research. She could see their iconic structures lit up in the evening sky in the distance. She paid them no mind as her real target was Amaranda. She would have to gain the trust of the local populance to find out where the seer resided and pay her a visit.

“I’ll have to be careful once I get to the village. I need to make sure the inhabitants don’t recognize me.” She thought to herself. “Find out where the dreamer lives, strike fast and quietly, and disappear into the night back to the arbor.” The sun set below the horizon by the time she could see lights from the sylvari village.

“Thorns. I’ll have to cross the lake.” She grumbled to herself. She quietly entered the cold water that took her breath momentarily as she swam across to the village. Pulling herself up on the shore, she started ringing the water out of her robe.

“Now this thing weighs more than Ordhram and Caelen combined.” She complained to herself. She cautiously entered the small village, spying a group of sylvari sitting around a table.

“Um, excuse me.” She called to them as innocently as she could. “Could you possibly help me?”

They turned to her. “Yes, what is the matter, sapling?” One of them responded looking up from his drink.

“I’m looking for a powerful seer. I am told that she lives in this village, that she could help me interpret my dream.”

“Ah, you are looking for Amaranda. She lives up the hillside.” He pointed out of the village. Orla looked up the hill and saw the soft lights from Amaranda’s home.

“Thank you very much.” Orla bowed lightly to them and started making her way up the pathway to the hilltop.

Amaranda knelt at her table, a book and papers laid out in front of her, a bowl of noodles in her hand, and Widget across from her.

“Anything yet?” she asked the small golem. It just beeped lightly as its gem flashed slowly from red to blue and back. She sighed lightly going to back to her book.

“Someone-approaches.” The golem spoke. Amaranda set down the bowl and stood, rushing to the door. The quick flash of a blade caused her to teleport backwards into her home, leaving a clone of herself in her place.

“Who’s out there!?” She shouted as her clone was steady launching small bolts of energy towards its target. Orla rushed through the illusion, which shattered as she raced into Amaranda’s home.

“You!? Again!?”” Amaranda shouted back.

“Now, dreamer. It’s time to settle this score.” Orla snarled through her teeth. The courtier leapt at her, causing Amaranda to sidestep. The courtier slashed her blade towards Amaranda, who back-pedaled, creating another clone in her place, this one wielding a sword. It slashed at Orla, burning her arm before she could dodge out of the way. With the courtier distracted for a moment, Amaranda darted to her room to retrieve her weapon, which hung on the wall near her bed. She unsheathed the sword and spun around just in time to knock Orla’s blade out of the way. Amaranda spun around again, slashing at the courtier, who easily dodged the attack, spinning herself low, tripping Amaranda to the floor. Orla jumped on her quickly, pinning her weapon down. She brought her dagger up to Amaranda’s neck.

“Please-no-fighting.” Widget’s electronic voice called out from behind a small cabinet.

“Now, dreamer, the time has come for you to meet that old cen-“ Orla was knocked to the floor by a swift kick from another of Amaranda’s clones.

“Gah!” she quickly started to get to her feet but paused as she looked at the circle of clones around her, each with different weapons drawn on her.

“Now, courtier.” Amaranda started. “You seem to currently be at a disadvantage. Let us try to be civilized about this this time, shall we?”

Orla gritted her teeth. “Just kill me then.”

“That would be the easy way out now, wouldn’t it?” Amaranda paused, focusing her mind on Orla. “But I can see that your conscious is conflicted.”

“The only conflict I have right now is ending you.” Orla snapped back at her.

“Why? For trying to retrieve the armor you stole?” An eldritch field appeared underneath Orla as the clones slowly started to disappear one by one until only Amaranda remained. She held the tip of her sword at Orla’s throat. “Now drop your weapon.”

Orla tried to pull herself away from the field, but it held fast. She glared menacingly at Amaranda, smiling slyly before dropping her blade to the floor. “Do what you will, dreamer.”

“Courtier, once you turn to nightmare, you can never return. It consumes you. But I can see that you…you have not yet truly fallen.”

“Nightmare allows us to be who we should be.” Orla rebuttled.

“Those are the words of the jungle dragon.” Amaranda stated. Orla’s narrowed her eyes. “By falling to nightmare, you throw away your freedom to give a lifetime of servitude to another. Is that what you want? To be a slave to someone else? To be told what to do for the rest of your existance?”

“You’re wasting your breath, dreamer.”

“Am I?” Amaranda looked at Orla, tilting her head slightly as she studied Orla’s connection to the Dream of Dreams.

“She pains for the loss of a loved one.” Amaranda thought, as she sifted through the ethereal memories of Orla’s mind. “A brother…fallen to Mordremoth.” A sudden billowing cloud of darkness caused Amaranda to snap back.

“Life is no different under Ventari’s tenants and the Pale Tree.” Orla snarled.

Amaranda stared at her. “Ventari’s tenants are but suggestions that we can choose to follow if we so wish. Did you forget that when you were a sapling?” Amaranda paused for a moment, drawing a deep breath. “Or…you can live your life away from Ventari and his tenants without falling to nightmare if you wish it.”

“By becoming a lowly soundless?” Orla snidely asked.

“If that is what it takes.” Amaranda paused. “Think about my sister, for example. She is neither a dreamer nor a courtier, and she lives happily with herself.” Orla stared at Amaranda in silence, her thoughts twisting back and forth on Amaranda’s words. Amaranda could feel confusion creeping into Orla’s mind. She could feel nightmare trying to push, to take over the courtier, but also the dream pushing it back. A constant struggle. Orla looked down, watching the field that was keeping her pinned to the floor slowly fade, Amaranda’s sword still at her neck.

“A life of servitude, or a life of freedom? The choice is yours, courtier.” Amaranda slowly lowered her weapon.

“What about you, dreamer?” Orla glared at Amaranda.

“I choose to follow Ventari’s words.” Amaranda spoke softly. “But I don’t try to push those words on others if they do not wish it. If you wish to be truly free, you must cast aside nightmare, lest you become a puppet for a master.” Orla closed her eyes, thinking about what Cadryn, Faolain, and Nafiona had promised. A life away from the Pale Tree, a life of freedom, but…at what cost to herself? She looked at Amaranda.

“It won’t be easy.” Amaranda spoke, holding out her hand. “The first step is always the toughest.”

#Guild Wars 2 #GW2 #Scarlet Briar #Sylvari #AU Ceara

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sasuhinasno1fan · 3 years

Text

A promise to keep you safe- Lukadrien June Day 1

It’s here! My second @lukadrien-june. I haven’t started s4 but just going off what I’ve heard others talk about, I don’t think I will. Instead I’ll just focus on my love for lukadrien which by this time last year had been a small growing love but is now my top ship of the whole show. Sorry Adrienette, just not really doing it for me anymore, but I still love you. Anyway, back to this month long event. This story was inspired by the k-drama, The Last Empress, which is basically about a normal girl who marries into the royal family. However, she finds out it was all a lie and that the royal family is corrupt and messed up and decides she’s going to bring them down. The head of security is an inside man also hoping to bring them down and the two get closer. We were robbed of them getting together in the show, but you can’t deny that’s where they were going, no matter how that show ended. I hope this doesn’t count as salt towards Gabriel, cause I can see him doing this and Audrey, well I needed a bad guy. Anyway, enjoy. Promise

Luka watched his sister pretty up the gift bag, trying not to think of the reason he had it in the first place. The royal family of France was, well, corrupt. It hadn’t always been like that, or maybe it had been but no one ever noticed because there were actual people who cared who spoke louder. To Luka, it was just the people he had to live ruling over his life. Then things changed.

He’d been on the Liberty about to sit down for a movie with his sister when they got a call no one ever wanted. Their mom, who’d been going to visit a friend had been hit in a hit and run and died. Having to go identify the body was one of the worst things in Luka’s life. The funeral, the Viking send-off she wanted (a safe version), the fear that they’d lose the Liberty and each other had it not been for an anonymous donation for the boat to stay with them and to help with Luka’s emancipation and getting custody of his sister.

During all this, he’d gotten a letter with an SD card. The card had a video, a traffic cam. It showed his mother walking back home when a black SUV suddenly came and ran into her. He watched the driver get out and look annoyed as he nudged Anarka with his foot. That driver was the King. The letter stated that the King’s engagement was used as an alibi to keep him clean and his car had seemingly vanished. If he wanted to help take the corrupt monarchy down, he needed to work at the castle. The only open position was part of the royal Imperial Guard. He’d promised his mom back when he was in lycée, he’d stay out of fights, but he hoped she’d forgive this just once. With a friend’s help, he created a fake identity, knowing the name Couffaine would raise flags with the King, passed the written exam and had been the only person still standing in the physical. He told Juleka to say he’d gone traveling to deal with their mother’s death and stay with her girlfriend if she thought it safe. He’d entered the palace, not knowing how things would go or even who to look for when it came to joining to bring the monarchy down.

Imagine his surprise when it turned out the Crown Prince was the one who sent him the letter.

“Why are you doing this?” Luka had growled, holding Prince Adrien by his collar in the unused wing of the castle he’d been asked to come to.

“Because it doesn’t matter who my father is, he deserves to be punished. I wish I could say he hasn’t always been like this but I know he has. Isn’t it strange that the Crown Prince almost never leaves the castle and neither did my mother after marrying my father? My father has always been like this. My mother tried to bring him down and she’s dead. I’m not going to stop until I finish what she started.”

So he agreed to help, but he was cautious. For all he knew, the Prince would turn against him. He had quite the team already. Marinette, his personal assistant, whose grandfather had his heirlooms stolen by the King after refusing to sell them. Alya and Nino, Adrien’s PR team. Alya’s younger twin sisters and Nino’s younger brother all had rare blood types and needed a surgery for a simple procedure. Said blood type was also shared with the King and after an accident he had, the blood had been ripped from the kids. The children had gotten sicker and now stayed at the hospital waiting for another shipment. Chloe, who was the daughter of the King’s newest wife, had been insulted beyond believe by the King and treated like dirt. And now him, a person’s who mother was taken too early and the King wouldn’t take reasonability.

It became clear very quickly that the Prince, that Adrien meant what he said. He was good at pretending to be the prefect prince and obedient son, but he’d been collecting seeds and releasing them too slowly. First with the announcement of Duke Felix, nephew to the King was actually his illegitimate son. Then starting to release the questions of what happened to the Queen, starting with leaving clues to her real body.

He could see that doing all this was taking a toll on Adrien. The public was getting distressed and people wanted to point fingers. Luka wanted to help but instead Adrien wanted to focus on getting more information about Anarka’s death. The cover up, the moving of her body to be found else were, finding the missing car, finding out Nathalie’s whole involvement in all this. It started to boil up emotionally for Luka and after nearly taking care of the King himself, he left the castle and sat in front of his mother’s grave for hours before Adrien found him there.

“It’d be so easy to kill him, to make him pay.” Luka said, still holding onto his anger.

“It would be, but I don’t think your mother would want that.”

Luka remembered the anger just releasing at the thought of what his mother would tell him if he’d been closer to killing the King. “My mom was this wild chaos driven person. She came from a proper family and hated it. So when she got older, she went her own way. She raised us with such trust that we knew hiding things from her wouldn’t help us and we never wanted to disappoint her. I used to get into so much trouble with fighting. I guess my empathic ways really had a hard time dealing with everything and I would lash out. She was the one who encouraged me to use my music to speak, not my fists. I was never this weird person or uncontrollable child. I was her kid and she loved me and she didn’t deserve this.” He stared at her headstone. “She hated the cold.”

He hadn’t been expecting Adrien to take his scarf off, exposing his neck to the cold fall weather and wrap it around the headstone as best he could.

“I don’t know if this is enough, but I hope it helps. I’ll keep him from going too far, I promise. We’ll avenge you so you can rest easy knowing your kids are safe.” Adrien promised out loud.

If Luka hadn’t known it then, he knew it now. Prince Adrien Agreste was a kind person, nothing like his father and if the monarchy was ever to continue, would be France’s greatest ruler. He took so much on his shoulders and never said a word about it. So Luka promised himself he’d do whatever it took to lighten the load. Which lead him to now. It was a small thing, but he got his sister to pretty up the bag with a new scarf in it for Adrien.

“All done.” Juleka said, pushing the bag to her brother. “You know, I saw the scarf on Mom’s headstone. Rose said the scarf is actually pretty expensive.”

“I don’t think he cares about that.”

“No, I guess not.” Luka knew his sister worried about what he was doing but with the soft look on her face, he had a feeling she knew he was safe. “I think Mom would have liked him. She would have totally adopted him.”

Luka smiled to himself at the thought of his mom attacking the King just to protect Adrien. “Yeah, she would. I better go. Be safe, ok? Let me know what Rose’s parents say about you going with her to Achu.”

“I will as long as you stay safe too.”

“I promise.”

_____________

Adrien stretched out his neck. Being ordered by his step-mother to organize the annual bazar was weird. Usually the Queen would take care of organizing it but somehow Audrey ended up convince his father that Adrien and Felix should do it as Crown Princes. Felix wanted nothing to do with it and even though Felix was on his side, Adrien wasn’t about to force his brother into it since he had to announce to everyone who Felix really was in order to forward their plans. He had no clue how his mom had done this every year. Even with a bases of what to go off, it was a lot of work. Not to mention Audrey was monopolizing all the Queen’s staff that could help him with this. He was worried what she had in store for him and if his father would care for a few moments like he usually did.

A knock on the door interrupted his break. Hoping it was Marinette with more info he needed, he called for the person to come in. He was surprised when he saw it was Luka.

“What are you doing here? I thought you had the day off?”

“I do. I had to go get something.” Adrien then noticed Luka was hiding something behind his back. He raised an eyebrow at the bodyguard, who only smiled before pulling a gift bag from behind his back and placing it on the table.

“What’s this?”

“Open it.”

Adrien was usually cautious when people gave him gifts as a fault, but he knew he could trust the people in his group. So he opened the bag and pulled out the deep blue scarf. The colour reminded him of the colour Luka used to have in his hair.

“You kept my mom warm and I know she’d ring my ear if I left you to get cold.” Luka explained.

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to.” Luka plucked the scarf from Adrien and slowly wrapped it around his neck as to not startle him. “It looks good on you.”

Adrien pressed his face into the scarf, hiding his blush. He wondered if it said something that he didn’t flinch as much with Luka putting the scarf around his neck as he sometimes did with Nino throwing an arm around his neck. Maybe because they had the chance to interact more or maybe, when around Luka, Adrien just felt things he thought he wouldn’t feel.

Luka just had a way of getting past a person’s walls.

___________

Luka tried not to feel rage. The royal family just didn’t give up. Audrey had practically ordered Adrien to take care of the annual bazar and then dragged Chloe and Felix – The Forgotten Royals as she played them up to be – to a photoshoot with the King that ran over into the bazar, leaving Adrien the only member of the royal family to attend the bazar. Audrey came down with a sudden illness.

The auction had been going on, still no sign of Chloe, Felix or the King when they reached the final item. An antique clock from the King’s collection. Luka watched Adrien talk about the clock, his hand on it when he yanked it away with a sudden ‘ouch’. He watched as he joked to the crowd about how metals retain heat and to not place the clock in direct sunlight. Luka remembered trying to understand how an antique clock, that had been out of the sun, could be hot. Unless there was something inside radiating heat. It what felt like snapshots, he’d warned Adrien, thrown the clock away and pulled Adrien to the floor as the bomb inside exploded. To see Adrien unconscious, blood dripping from the shallow cut on his neck, though at that moment, it looked much worse, it scared him. He barely even recognised the King as he picked Adrien up to get him to the medical wing. He wasn’t sure how long the concern the king held would last. Adrien didn’t stay in the medical wing long once he woke up. He demanded to stay in his room while he recovered and once the doctor set up his IV bag next to his bed and gave him a dose of pain killers, Luka was told to stay with the Prince and watch over him.

Luka knew as head of the guard for Adrien, he had paperwork to fill out for the incident, but he couldn’t move. He realised he was starting to feel stifled in his suit and stood up, hoping to duck out to change but stopped when something grabbed his hand.

Adrien looked up at him with lidded eyes, eyes that screamed fear laced with pain. “Don’t go, please?”

Dropping back down onto his chair, Luka held Adrien’s hand, using his other to wipe the tears that escaped the green eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Those same green eyes locked on the one scratched Luka had gotten. He felt like such a failure for not keeping Adrien safe, for letting him get hurt worse than he did.

“You’re hurt.”

“It’s just a scratch. Just focus on getting better, ok?”

‘Get better so I don’t go crazy and kill either your father or Audrey. I haven’t decided yet.’

Adrien gently squeezed Luka’s hand. “Promise me you won’t leave?”

Luka pulled his hand away enough to link pinkies with the Prince. It didn’t matter that they were adults, this was how he swore things.

“I promise, I won’t leave you.” he pressed a kiss onto the interlocked pinkies and watched the tension leave Adrien.

Adrien made promises to him and his family and this was one Luka would keep forever.

#lukadrien june 2021 #the last empress au #france has a monarchy #adrien is a prince #luka is his bodygaurd #the monarchy is corrupt

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 3 years

Text

The Killing Cure (Part 4)

Bela cocks her head and furrows her brows; mother is so small now. So feeble. She reaches out and takes mother’s hand if only to see how it feels to do so. Alcina sits still and somewhat stiff but she doesn’t protest the gesture.

Mother's hand is very small too and her claws are missing. Bela strokes the back of her hand. Her skin, particularly around her fingers has grown strangely dark and when Bela reaches her wrist she notices that it has gone red and scaly.

Mother flinches when Bela touches the rough red patches. Bela flinches too, she has hurt mother. Mother is so delicate. "I'm sorry, mother." Her lower lip quivers.

"It's alright dear, you didn't know. Anyways, it's just a rash."

"A rash?" Cassandra asks.

Mother nods. "Just a rash."

"Itchy sometimes painful pink or red patches of skin. Can be caused by many things like allergies, harsh chemicals, poisonous plants…" Ethan prattles. "Sometimes I think that they just happen for no reason, I once had this really bad rash on my…" he catchws a glimpse of mother's face, "nevermind. They usually go away pretty quickly unless it's an allergic reaction."

"Or porphyria." Mother adds flatly.

This comment causes the human to flinch and rub the back of his head.

"What is that? What does it mean?" Cassandra asks.

Mother only shakes her head, seeming to fall deeper into her dismay. Finally she replies, "it means that I cant protect you girls any longer."

Daniela goes ridged at this. Bela only nods. She hadn't needed mother's confirmation to know this. So far, mother hasn't stood up on her own--for more that a few minutes anyhow--since shrinking. She is under the blankets shivering, with pain or with chill, Bela can't distinguish.

Cassandra sits upon the bed next to her and pulls her into her arms. How strange it is to see mother being held instead of doing the holding.

Bela finds herself sitting on mother's other side. Stranger than seeing her mother being held, is actually holding her. It is one thing to see her so small and another to feel it. To feel mother's head resting upon her shoulder. To feel mother's body lean into hers without toppling the both of them.

Mother is weaker but mother is still comforting; she is soft. Very soft and very warm. Bela can still nuzzle her head against mother and feel safe.

Daniela reaches out to stoke her hair or brush a hand against her cheeks. And mother seems to be falling asleep again.

.oOo.

Eathan grimances to himself. They fully grown and yet they are like little children, lost and confused and terrified.

He can't help but wonder upon what would have happened if he had killed Lady Dimitrescu on the spot. How absolute terrified those three little fly beasts would be. He imagines them wide eyed and trembling just as violently as their mother is now.

He imagines his Rose shaking and terrified at his death...

He runs his hands over his face. He wishes that he could put an end to his empathy, it is going to get him killed.

And yet he has an overkill of the stuff; porphyria…he can't say that he has heard the term until now but it sounds dehabilitating. It looks dehabilitating. Perhaps he shouldn't force her to come with him after all, in this state she would only hold him back anyhow.

"Winters, I am thirsty. Fetch me a drink."

No please, likely no thank you either. He really shouldn't do it, he has no reason to. He doesn't have to, Daniela very eagerly hands a cup to the woman. And the woman greedily brings it to her lips. And then comes a look that is in equal parts horror and disgust.

When she lowers the cup he can see blood smears at the corners of her mouth.

"What's wrong, mother?" Bela asks.

"It doesn't taste right." She looks as though she is going to be sick. Whether with stress or disgust, he isn't sure. She leans more heavily against Bela and grips Cassandra's hand tighter. Ethan finds himself wincing again on the woman’s behalf, he can’t say that he knows what it is like for a cherished thing to suddenly become revolting. At the same time it comes as an incomparable relief to know that he won’t have to worry about her monstrous cravings. He tries not to look her in the eye, lest he find himself feeling bad that she can’t make a morsel of another maiden.

.oOo.

It only grows worse as the night wears on; to go with the cramping is a shooting pain in her abdomen and the sensation of pins and needles in her hands and feet. She is exhausted but her ails won’t permit her to sleep. And the pain comes with a sense of anxiety, at least she thinks that that is where the feeling is coming from. Maybe she is simply loaongbher mind.

She rubs her hands over her face, the pins and needles flare. She is alone, so perfectly alone that it is safe to cry. She feels ridiculous for it nonetheless. That’s twice now in under two days. She supposes that it is only befitting for a weak body to come with a weak mind. Though she is beginning to wonder if a it is the other way around; that she had her mind had been weak and she was given a body to match it. She wonders if she was ever strong at all; perhaps Mother Miranda had been feeding her lies all along, petting a dumb dog so that it would easier roll over and take commands.

There comes a particular potent pang and she lets out something between a sigh and a sob as she folds in on herself. And with the stab of pain comes another wave of insecurity--she is already small and she is making herself smaller still by curling herself up like this. She dreads to think of her girls coming upon her in such a state.

She remains in such a state for some time, perhaps hours fading in and out of awareness. And in the moments where her mind isn't racing it is detached somehow. It comes with a merciful sense that she and her body aren't one. A sense of disconnect and confusion that is somehow familiar. She tries to place where from. She wonders if she is dying.

She isn't sure that it would be so bad to die…

Her head hurts.

.oOo.

"Check on mother." Daniela demands.

Ethan blinks. "Me? You want me to check on her?"

All three of them nod in uniform.

"W-why me!? She hates me." They all hate him and yet they are all asking favors of him.

“Because you’re good at healing.” Bela answers.

“So you can heal mother, right?” Cassandra asks.

Ethan exhales. He supposes that he doesn’t mind getting away from the Dimitrescu daughters for a while. At least their mother isn’t quite as chaotic. “Fine, I’ll check on her.” He gets to his feet and makes his way up the stairs. He knocks upon her door and waits for her to tell him to fuck off in her own posh and polite way.

He receives no answer at all. He considers, for a moment, marching right back downstairs and complaining about how he’d just wasted his time. Instead he forces her door open, he supposes that the worst she can do is chuck another pillow at him. Upon entering the room he finds that she can’t even do that.

She is on the floor, her body twitching and jerking. The only thing that he can think to do is position a pillow under her head to keep it from knocking her head against the floor anymore than it already has. Her entire body spasms all over, he thinks that it only does so for perhaps a minute before it tapers off and her body stills.

He lifts her into his arms and lays her upon the mattress. Her head lolls to the side but he thinks that she is awake, if only dimly so. He pulls the covers over her shoulders. Unsure of what to do next, he paces about the room. Paces until he catches her stirring.

“Did that happen a lot before your mutation?” He asks.

“Often enough…” she mumbles so quietly. “Winters…?”

“What?”

“Will you watch my daughters for me?"

He is well aware that he is openly staring with his mouth slightly agape. He isn’t sure that he has heard the woman correctly. “You want me to what?”

“They’re delicate. They need someone to watch out for them. If you can kill me then you should have no problem protecting them. They like warm rooms…”

“You’re not going to die, stop being dramatic.” But he isn’t so sure. She certainly looks as though she is dying. And with her, his best chance at finding Rose. “I’ll speak with The Duke and see if he has any medications to treat this…”

“Porphyria.” She fills in. “Don’t you think that I’ve tried everything I could?”

“Maybe centuries ago, when you were last human. Treatments are much different now.”

She sighs, he thinks that he sees a tear running down her cheek. “I’m going to die. Just tell me that when I do you will either protect my daughters or kill them swiftly.”

#Alcina Dimitrescu #Lady Dimitrescu #Ethan Winters #Alcina/Ethan #Fanfiction

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crimsonwolfie · 4 years

Text

“I Can’t Lose You” — Hamish Duke x Reader (The Order)

Hi! So this is my first ever completed fanfic i have ever written so please give me feedback and if you want me to write more! This is a “The Order” fanfic because i’ve recently become obsessed with this show and in specific, Hamish Duke. Darn he’s so cute! Also there needs to be more fanfics for this fandom so i thought i’d try! Hope you guys like it!!! Sorry this one is a bit of a sad one, but sometimes sad ones are THE ones you know?

Warnings: character death, guilt, just overall sadness tbh. Don’t read if you’re in a good fluffy mood lmao

Word count: 3,500

Pairing: Hamish Duke x Reader (also slightly Knights x Reader)

Masterlist

Edward (or should i say, grand Magus)’s plan for world domination was going too smoothly, and everyone was worried. The Knights of St Christopher and Alyssa knew they had to do something, even if it meant death. Even though you were only human, not a knight nor a member of The Order, you still wouldn’t let anything happen to your friends. Especially Hamish - he’s different. You have a soft spot for him, an unrequited love even...never mind if he’s a little older than you.

You walk into the knights’ house to see Vera pottering around the room, searching through books and handling strange objects in her hands.

“The hell is she doing here?!” Lilith screams, eyes changing with rage.

“It’s okay, she’s here to help” Alyssa replies, shrugging Randall’s hands off of her shoulders

“...fuck that WHY ARE YOU HERE DAMNIT?! Lilith practically roars after hearing and seeing Alyssa’s presence. Yeah her memories came back, but so did emotions linked to them.

“Lilith please, you have to calm down.” Alyssa reaches her hands out in an attempt to comfort Lilith, only to realise it made things way worse. You stand there unable to trigger what is even happening...heck you even felt betrayed when you found out Alyssa wiped Lilith’s memories of the order...now she feels like someone you used to know. You look down and notice Lilith’s claws start to come out and quickly you run over to stop “Kilith” making an appearance.

“Lilith i’m so glad you’re okay, what happened??” You ask, hugging your friend who surprisingly returns the hug.

“Thank YOU for noticing i’m alive. SEE I CAN SAVE MYSELF, THANKS FOR YOUR HELP GUYS!” She shouts, knowing the boys can clearly hear her.

“They’re just dumb, stupid idiots who messed with the wrong Knight, that’s all.” She smirks

“Well i’m glad you’re okay. We had a plan, you know” I say, gently squeezing her shoulder

“Why wouldn’t you. You can’t survive without me” she laughs, although she’s got a point.

Alyssa looks over to us, hovers her gaze and then looks away. Even though i can’t read her mind, i still see how she looks at me and Lilith and remembers painful memories of how they used to be this close. I just don’t understand why she doesn’t listen to us when we all say that The Order is bad for her, it’s just going to destroy her humanity. Even Jack agrees.

Randall, Jack and Hamish run over slightly shocked to see Lilith standing in the doorway. See here’s the thing, when i see Randall, i get happy. But in a comfortable way, like a sibling like love. When i see Jack, i just get annoyed and aggravated since he’s always up to no good...but when i see Hamish, it’s like the world is in slow motion. Nothing else matters until you see his face, or know he’s okay. He’s like your safe house, your anchor that brings you back to comfort and reality.

“Oh my god Lilith you’re here! How are you? Are you hurt? What the fuck are you wearing?” Randall blabs on, checking Lilith everywhere for marks or enchanted knife stabs

‘Okay since when has Randall shown so much care towards Lilith?’ You think...seems a bit forced in your opinion but oh well.

“Lilith! Urm...we kidnapped a child for you” Hamish stutters, happy to see Lilith but also confused about what is happening right now

“I’ve been kidnapped?!” a small child pipes up from the corner chair, eyes wide open and comic book stretched over his chest

“Oh for god’s sake” Vera huffs whilst flicking her finger towards the small child, instantly knocking him unconscious

“You what?” Lilith chokes, slapping Randall’s hands away from her face “why would you do that? Wait...he thinks his son is his only son right? So when he gets the child back he’ll still lose at his plan?”

“Exactly. Wait we’re letting an innocent child get killed? Isn’t there some fool-proof plan to make sure no one gets killed?!” You remark, earning a few sorrowful glances at your humanity

“There isn’t another way. It’s the only plan we have i’m afraid” Hamish replies, stepping towards you.

Alyssa and Jack look towards each other in synchronisation, as if they have a plan.

“Okay i think i have an idea, but Alyssa i’ll need your help” Jack says, nodding his head hopefully. “Whatever happens, make sure no one gets hurt”

After Jack and Alyssa leave, you step to the side and begin thinking of ways that you can not only save thousands of innocent lives, but also help save those you hold closest - Hamish, Lilith, Randall and Jack. If Edward wants to sacrifice his own son, then what if...

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” You turn around to see Hamish behind you, looking down at you with eyes of concern and care. His hand is on your shoulder, rubbing small circles with his thumb

“Nothing, just worried that’s all” you reply, hoping he doesn’t see through your act. You know he wouldn’t approve of your thoughts, so you keep them to yourself.

“It’s going to be okay, he doesn’t know Jack is his first born and without him, he’s failed. We’re gonna be okay.” He pulls you into his chest, instantly calming your nerves. It feels like forever when he hugs you, and how you wish you could freeze time in that moment as you lean into his warm touch and burry your face into his chest, his grip tightening on your upper and lower back for support. You can hear his heart beating, making you smile into his chest.

“You know, you really are a special human being” he hums as he gently strokes your head with his thumb “not just because you have a heart of gold, but because you manage to light a room up even if tragedy occurs”

You can’t help but coo at his words, smiling a smile so big into his chest. You look up to see that adorable little smirk he does, with his hair hanging down and his eyes fixated into yours.

“Awhh, Hamish. Thank you” your cheeks blush as he chuckles, before he lets go of you. Moments like this are your favourite, always.

You look over to see Vera staring outside the window, a panicked look on her face. You’ve never known The Order as you’re not a member, but you’ve heard plenty enough from Hamish and the others to know they’re no good. And that goes for Vera - she only helps if she gets something out of it. None of them have any genuine good in their hearts unless it involved selfishness.

“Okay we’ve got a problem, you have visitors” she turns around, announcing like some high monarchy jester...you can’t help but roll your eyes at her.

“What do you mean? Who’s coming?” Randall asks

“It’s the Order, they’re here for the child” Vera replies

“Well they aren’t getting him. We have to stop them” Lilith cries, actual seriousness in her voice...’damn i’m so proud of her’ you think as you remember how she felt no remorse in killing before.

“She’s right. C’mon” Hamish agrees. As Randall and Lilith go out and their hides come out, Hamish pulls you to the side.

“Y/N, you have to stay in here. It’s too dangerous and i don’t want to lose you okay? We need you here” he looks restless and panicked, a look you haven’t seen on his face so genuine before.

“I’ll be right here, it’s fine. Go!” You reply, kissing him on the cheek as a way to say ‘i’m not losing you either, idiot’. He leans into your kiss, holding his cheek with a smile after and then steps out of the door.

Vera seems to be the only one left inside, so you ponder over to her in an attempt to begin a conversation with her. ‘Maybe she isn’t as bad as the others?’ you think.

“Hey, Vera?” You ask hesitantly

“Urm...yes? Y/N isn’t it?” She replies whilst looking into her book of potions and concoctions

“Yeah, i was just wondering about a spell that could shape shift you into something...or someone else...is there one?” You ask, weary of trusting her

“Of course there’s such spell, it’s like the basics of magic” she replies “why?”

“I was just wondering. I mean, i don’t think this whole plan will work and...”

“You want to help.” She finishes your sentence

“...yeah. I know i’m no knight or member of The Order but i still want to help.” You stutter, playing with your fingers, twirling them around each other

“I see. So you want to shapeshift into someone else?” She replies, turning towards me in curiosity

“I guess...” you begin as you trail on about your plan in order to save everyone and especially, to save Hamish.

Time goes by and you receive a call from Jack

“Jack what’s wrong?” You ask as you hear Jack’s heavy breathing on the other end of the line

“It’s Alyssa, Edward’s got her. He’s got her and won’t give her back until he gets his son back...” he’s running it seems, panic set in his tone and regret “It’s all my fault, it’s my fucking fault. An innocent person is going to die either way because of me now. It’s Alyssa or his second child” he chokes up, clearly about to break down

“Jack, hey, Jack listen to me...it’s NOT your fault, you tried to save everyone and it doesn’t work that way, much like magic - There’s always a price to pay.” You look up to Vera, who sympathetically smiles at you with a sad smile

“Just get back here and we’ll figure something out okay? We’ll get her back, Jack. I promise” you softly say, hearing Jack calm down and agree. You hang up and linger for a second on your home screen - a picture of you and your friends. Hamish is sitting next to you with his arm around you tightly and his other arm holding a cocktail. He’s staring down at you laughing. Randall is on the other side of you, laughing with his head up as if he was mid throwing his head back in laughter. He’s holding one of your hands whilst his other arm is near Lilith. You’re leaning into Hamish’s chest, giggling and looking down with a blushed cheeks, whilst Lilith is sitting next to Randall but not touching anyone (no surprise there) and looking down at Jack laughing. Jack is in front of you all, making a silly face and lying on his side, with one leg up in the air and arm tucked under his head. You’ve all got smiles on your faces and look like a proper family, which is exactly how you see them all.

Vera sees you staring down at your phone, aware that you’re doing something she has never seen anyone willing to do before “You don’t have to do this, there must be another way” She pleas, but you both know no other way is guaranteed to fail Edward of his task. “It’s not too late. Think of what you’re losing”

“Vera i know, but i’m thinking of what i’m earning for those i love” i reply, tears welling in my eyes. Vera understands my position and agrees to help me.

An hour later

“Where’s Y/N? She should be here! She said she would keep safe” Hamish runs up and down the house looking for you, unaware of what’s to come. He’s beginning to get restless and worried more than ever now

“It’s okay, she said she went to get supplies for me. She’ll be back” Vera lies

“We don’t have anymore time. Edward will need a sacrifice by 12, which means we have 20 minutes. And if we don’t give him a sacrifice he’ll kill Alyssa” Jack cries

“I need to give him someone. Guys scrap the plan, i need to go. I have to. I’d never forgive myself if Alyssa dies. Not because of me” Jack screams, anger venting inside him. Randall approaches and tries to calm Jack down before things get messy or before something he regrets happens.

“I need to know Y/N is safe, i couldn’t live if she got hurt” Hamish joined in, gaining looks towards him in surprise but also...guilt...from Vera.

Hamish notices Vera’s guilty look and instantly begins changing into Tundra through anger built inside of him but also...fear.

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?” He practically growls at Vera, who holds her hands up to defend herself (as if that’s gonna stop a werewolf pftt). Vera begins to back away in fear of getting eaten alive, but Randall and Jack start to hold Hamish back, as his hide begins to hide again even as he fights against Jack and Randall’s grips

“It was her idea. She’s gone to stop Edward” Vera replies, eyes wide and hands ready to cast a spell as blood seeps from her palm.

“NO we need to stop her” Hamish cries as he breaks free from the boys’ arms and runs out the door, with the others following.

—

Jack enters the temple to see Edward preparing for his final task - the sacrifice. Alyssa is standing to the side, hands behind her back. She’s been enchanted from performing any spells, as Edward clearly saw he couldn’t trust anyone anymore. Upon Jack’s entrance, Alyssa runs up to him and hugs him, suddenly realisation sets into her glare.

“Jack what are you doing here, you can’t be here he’ll kill you!” She whispers, gripping onto his arm.

“It’s okay, at least you and everyone else will be safe” he replies, rubbing her hand on his arm

“Jack, i don’t see my child...you do know what a trade means don’t you?” Edward mocks, standing straight and tall in an attempt to threaten Jack.

“Grand Magus, you need your first born for the spell to work. Correct? Therefore, i’m here.” He stands tall and strong, stepping in front of Alyssa in a way to protect her. Edward looks around sheepishly, confused at what is happening. He takes a step forward and demands Alyssa tells him the truth. “Is this true, Alyssa? Don’t lie to me. I will know.” He booms, face inches away from Alyssa’s.

Alyssa hesitates before Edward threatens to come closer “okay it’s true. Yes, Grand Magus. He’s your son” she cries, tears threatening to spill as her words came out.

“Very well. Honourable of you, Jack. I must admit. However, that is not a quality you pursue from me.” Edward mocks, as he drags Jack towards the table where the book is. Jack climbs onto the table, as Edward starts summoning words and phrases, eventually producing a knife. Magus takes out the knife from the book

“NO!” Alyssa cries out, tears streaming and hands trembling. Edward ignores her screams and raises the knife in the air, thickening the suspense. Footsteps can be heard from behind the temple doors, lots of them. They sound as if they are quickening towards the door. Jack’s face drops a single tear as Edward releases his arms from the air and stabs him in the chest with the knife. As soon as the knife has been released, the doors burst open and Jack appears. Edward double takes towards Jack, who is standing by the door with Hamish, Vera, Randall and Lilith. He then looks towards his “son” in front of him, only to see him fade into Y/N. Alyssa screams as she falls to her knees. Edward’s timer chimes, as he roars in pain and anger at his failure

“NO. THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT” he screams at Y/N’s motionless body on the table. As he stares into the eyes of those before him, he directs his words at Jack

“See you in hell, son.” before he demises away. Hamish and the others run towards Y/N on the table, blood seeping out from her mouth and stab wound. Tears are shed from each person in the room, even Vera. Hamish holds you in his arms, praying that there is a way Y/N can be saved. “You promised me you’d keep safe. You promised me you wouldn’t get hurt” he chokes as tears pour from his bloodshot eyes.

“I...i’m sorry” you stutter, blood quickly spilling as you speak. “I need-“ you’re struggling to speak without choking on your own blood. “I needed to...to make sure you were...were safe” you cough up a pile of blood, as Hamish holds you tighter.

“We need you, i need you” he loudly wails as everyone surrounds you

“I love you, Hamish Duke” you manage to say before coughing even more and gasping for a breath

“Y/N why did you do this” Jack asks as guilt and fear cloud his voice. He grabs your hand and wipes your hair out of your face. His face is completely wet with tears, as well as everyone else’s.

“It’s the only way, to know you’d all be safe” you reply, your voice breaking with tears “and it worked” you half heartedly chuckled

“There’s got to be a way we can save her” Lilith cries out, looking towards Vera and Alyssa. They hang their heads low as their tears drop to the floor. There wasn’t a way, and you knew that. That’s why Vera warned you, but you knew the price you had to pay.

“What...what about a hide? What if that will heal her?” Randall pleads, looking up to his fellow Knights, to which they shake their head. A hide wouldn’t want a dying host.

“I love you so much and I didn’t get to tell you how i felt, Y/N. You’re the one person who makes me smile like never before and we never got the chance to go on dates” Hamish is rocking from side to side holding you in his arms, you look up to him and faintly smile at his confession

“It’s okay” you reply, bringing a bloody hand up to his face as you stroke his cheek with the last of your energy. He cups your hand with his hands, wet with his tears and your blood. His face has lost colour from watching the love of his life dying in his arms

“No it’s not okay. You can’t leave me, i can’t lose you. Y/N don’t close your eyes, don’t you dare close your eyes” he screams as his body shakes violently from shock and tragedy.

“Hamish, i’m alw-“ you’re interrupted from a violent coughing fit, as your face loses colour even quicker. “-always with you” you carry on “i have always loved you, and will till my last breath” you whisper as tears fall towards your pale, cold cheeks. Lilith and Randall are holding each other as Lilith is trying to stop your bleeding. It’s not working though. Hamish leans down and kisses your forehead, lingering for a moment as if he is treasuring this moment for an eternity to come.

“I’m thankful for you all” you begin, slightly lifting your head to see your family around you “you’re all my family, and i love you all so much” as you’re addressing them all, they whimper in pain and grab your hands, squeezing them tightly. Randall kisses your cheek and puts his forehead on yours, leaving a final kiss on your forehead. Lilith grips your hand tighter than ever before, thinking of your friendship and how she sees you as a sister, and to see her sister dying in front of her is something that will always haunt her. Hamish doesn’t want this to be real...he planned how he would tell you he loved you, where he would take you for your first date, the places you two would travel for road trips, the pets you two would get together, where he would propose to you...now he can’t. He never planned on telling you he loved you on your death bed, it’s destroying him.

“Thank you for everything, my family” you mutter faintly as your energy is leaving you. As you see the faces around you, you see what you always imagined you’d see before you die - your family surrounding you. That’s how you wanted it. With that, you smile one last time at Hamish, stroke his cheek with your thumb, then everything goes black and your body becomes numb. Your hand falls to the floor, and the Knights howl into the air with grief, pain and anger. They knew the Order was to blame for your death, and they would not let your death be in vain. You’d always be remembered in their pack, and with every moment they lived, they’d take a moment to think of you, and think of their love for you. How you saved people you didn’t know, and how you did it for them. Hamish never stopped thinking about you, even years after your death. He was different after that, they all were.

Hope you guys liked it! Let me know if you want me to do more and who you want me to write about :) love always 🖤

#the order #hamish duke #hamish duke x reader #hamish duke imagine #the order netflix #the knights of saint christopher #randall carpio #lilith bathory #jack morton #the order imagine

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theobsessor1 · 3 years

Text

Shedding the truth

Summary: Deceit should know better, going through with another one of Remus’s ideas. He thought it would have been a one time deal, just something for them that night to experiment with his more reptilian side. But he’s starting to regret it with the growing nest of eggs, and horrible uncertainty of feelings swirling in his chest…he might be in some trouble here.

Pairings: Loceit, Demus, Intrulogical, intruloceit

Warnings: None (let me know if i need to tag anything

Word count: 1,926

previous chapters ch.1, ch.2, ch.3, ch.4 (read on ao3)

(wish to support me buy me a coffee :3)

Chapter 5 of “Say Something” series

Logan has been acting strange and Deceit can’t put his finger on why.

The logical side has made him breakfast on occasion, invited him to his room to read together or even for him to join Remus and the side in activities. Giving compliments and shy words sometimes.

Something must be going on here, the bespectacled side must want something from him. Another night together maybe? Why else would the side be acting so weirdly nice to him?

A trick to get something? Or maybe just to be on his good side since Remus and him have finally confessed to one another.

He’s not sure about the motive but it’s obvious something is going on...Whatever the motive it is...a bit nice having the extra attention.

Knock Knock

Scratch that...it’s annoying.

“Deceit please, you have hardly come out of your room, Remus believes you are ill, Let us in to help you.”

Deceit huffs curling up tighter in his bed under his several layers of blankets, he hasn’t bothered to put on his heat lamp. Every time he turned it on he felt like he was boiling, but without it he’s freezing, a horrible conundrum.

Even with all his fluffiest, softest, warmest blankets he can possibly bundle up and burrow in he’s left with the shivers.

He just wants to be left to sleep, all he needs is that precious sleep. Any illness can be cured with rest, but of course that is if he can get any.

Besides he can’t let anyone come in here. He hasn’t moved the eggs yet, they’re still the nest in the corner of his room. The number is officially up to three eggs now. A deep blue egg patterned like it is made of stones that he laid soon after Logan and him had...we...Getting sick has gotten in the way of moving them.

He can just push through this illness like he does with all the others.

“Deceit I respect your space but I must insist I come in. I made soup. Remus has shown me how to make your favorite.”

The snake side hisses a soft breath in response, coughing a bit, feeling ready to just bite something if this keeps up!

“...I’m coming in whether you like it or not.”

Deceit’s eyes widen. No! Mustn’t see the eggs! He launches himself out of his bed tripping over the many blankets he had entangled himself in. Protect the eggs! Keep them hidden! He face plants on to the ground from his efforts to scramble from the bed, hissing loudly as he hears Logan rise up with Remus, no doubt the duke having been dragged into this mess to help logic break into the room.

“Deceit?! Are you alright?”

The concern in Logan’s voice is clear as day as the side quickly rushes to his aid and helps him sit up from the floor. But all the scaled side can do is squirm and hiss, feral thoughts to keep them from the eggs fueling his wild clumsy movements."Stop! Out! Get out!”

Even with his protests the logical side conjures a handkerchief to try and help Deceit’s bleeding nose staying put. “Hold still, your nose is bleeding, and you’re burning up! You should have let me come look after you. You look awful.” Logan’s brows pinch together as he takes in Deceit’s condition, the side only struggling more adamantly in his hold.

“Oooh! You’ve been hiding goodies from us eh? Easter ain’t even here for seve-eah!”

Remus blinks the room suddenly upside down as he lays against a now cracked wall, staring at the spot he’d just been standing at where Dee now wobbly stood hissing at him with Logan shoved on the floor by the side of the bed.

“DoN’t ToUcH!”

Logan huffs dusting himself off as he gets up from the floor, only to pause spotting what the scaled side was guarding over.

There large and distinctly different colored patterned eggs neatly placed in what seems to be a makeshift nest? Consisting of throw pillows and blankets piled in the corner of the bedroom. “Deceit...What are those?”

Deceit hesitates, wincing at the question as his posture stiffens further. “I...Remus had an Idea since I’m partly a snake and I...they’re mine.”

Logan remains silent, staring at Deceit as he takes in this information.

Remus tries again to get near the nest only to get flung back into the wall with several angry snek sounds from Deceit. Nervous about the two finally seeing the nest and their reactions he starts talking again “Nearly every time I’ve slept with someone I’ve ended up laying one about two weeks later. I-I thought it wouldn’t keep happening.” he makes a distressed sound running a hand down the scaled side of his face as he takes a glance at the eggs then back at Logan “I-I was wrong and I-I was going to talk to Remus, I had told myself to but I just-...” he takes a deep breath watching Logan closely, eyes darting over the logical side’s unmoving face.

He can’t stop himself from talking more, panicked that suddenly all of Logan’s niceness would stop, he’d just gotten used to it! He wouldn’t admit it but he doesn’t want to lose the side. Would Logan abandon them both now? Because of this bizarre occurrence

“The green one is Remus’s, Pink and yellow with the speckles is Emile’s and Remy’s, the traits in the imagination..and...and that last one is yours”

He scans over Logan’s face once more. The side’s eyes follow to each egg he pointed to but nothing more.

“Logan?...”

Logan glances to him. He’s unsure what that expression is.

“Well? Use your words instead of just staring at me like-like I’m some freakshow!” Deceit pleads, he shouldn’t care about what the side has to say about it. It’s his eggs. The side’s don’t need to know of them or have an opinion but...Even so it feels like some hand has a vice grip on his heart, ready to squeeze as he prepares for the worst from Logan.

“Please...say something.”

“...How can I help?”

Deceit blinks, all feeling rushing out of him almost dizzyingly, leaving him wheezing “What?”

“How can I help? One of them is mine correct? That doesn’t really matter even if none of them were my children I’d offer my assistance.” Logan clarifies, eyes sparkling behind his glasses.

Deceit hesitates, squishing down that small lift of hope in his chest. He senses no lie, but still. He can’t stop the anxious doubt clawing at his mind “You mean that?” He’s not sure if it’s these unfamiliar emotions building up in his chest or simply him being ill that makes his legs wobbly.

Logan nods lifting a brow at the scaled side, eyes still gleaming almost...excitedly? As he helps Remus from the floor whispering something to him before he turns to Janus again. “Of course. I am fully capable of helping assist you in carrying for your brood as well as helping with whatever may come out. I am responsible for one and as well as I care about you, it would be rather foolish and shameful of me to expect you to care for them all on your own without some help” He steps closer, putting a hand gently to Deceit’s side and guides him over to the restroom where they can see Remus filling up the tub with warm water.

“First thing that needs to be done though is for you to get better. How long have you been ill like this?”

Deceit sputters looking between the two sides “I-I’m not sure, for a while now I suppose?”

Logan nods with a hum, Remus and him working to strip and help Deceit into the tub before the duke disappears back out the room bouncing off to who knows where.

“A nice soak in the warm water should help, you’ve spoken many times of your hard time retaining heat. I’ve done some research in my past time, warm water and heat lamps are most pro-”

“I already have a heat lamp and tried it, I-It was too much.” Deceit interrupts him almost poutily as he melts in the warm water.

Logan nods, eyes scanning over the snake side “Are your scales normally...flakey? When you are sick?” He conjures up a washcloth to soak in the water before using it to gently dab and rub at Deceit’s scales. The scales start...peeling?

Deceit shakes his head “No, they should only be flakey when I’m near my shed.”

Logan hums shaking his head fondly “Deceit...You’re sick because you haven’t shed. I-there are several layers of old scales here. I’m surprised you haven’t caused something worse to yourself.”

Deceit furrows his brows “That can’t be right though! It’s been nowhere near my usual shedding days.”

Logan continues to gently use the washcloth to rub the scales, the skin peeling more as he works, removing the sickly yellowy-green to show a more vibrant almost forest green underneath with of course the lighter yellow accent scales. “Well clearly you’ve missed it several times because you are shedding right now...Could it possibly be from laying your eggs? Most snakes shed when gravid.”

Deceit frowns thinking that over.

There is the sound of shifting wind as Remus appears back in the bathroom holding a large bowl and a pile of clothes. “I brought the soup, and I got more comfy clothes.”

“Thank you Remus, will you set those at the bedside table and assist me in here with Deceit’s shed?”

Remus bounces tho careful not to spill the soup “ooh! Is that why he’s such a grumpy gus! It’s shed time! You should have said something sooner ya silly serpent.” he sets down the items and poofs himself out of his own clothes to hop into the tub with Dee. Earning a few grumbled choice words at him from Deceit for taking up so much room but he doesn’t mind, after all the scaled side just gets himself comfortable leaning against him.

The two sides work for some time to remove the old shedding skin until the snake sides scales are gleaming. Once the side is dressed in comfy soft pajamas they guide him back to bed getting him comfily piled into the many blankets.

Logan moves to pull away only to find a hand latched onto his shirt.

“You...don’t leave. I-I..I would like the company.” Deceit confesses looking to the two sides nervously

The logical side can’t help a chuckle “Don’t worry I’m just grabbing the soup.”

Remus climbs onto the bed cuddling up to Deceit’s side. “You want to pick a movie for us to watch double dee?”

Deceit sleepily nods “Brave, I like the message...and magic”

Remus chuckles, nodding and summoning up Logan’s laptop to play the movie on as the scaled side leans against him resting his head against the dukes shoulder just as Logan gets comfortable on his other side.

The two sides take turns to feed him as they watch the movie, his eyes gradually growing heavy as it goes on.

Drowsy with his head full of cotton Deceit nuzzles Remus’s cheek affectionately before doing the same to Logan. His thanks given he burrows further into the pile of blankets letting his eyes finally close and drift off.

Feeling cared for and that his broos is safe, He drifts off into a peaceful slumber, smiling softly to himself.

Maybe it will be alright.

#egg fic #Say Something #writing is hard #logan sanders #deciet sanders #remus sanders #intrulogical #loceit #demus #intruloceit #sander sides #sander sides au

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