#I’d like to animate him sprinting on two legs as well.
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axiondelta · 2 months ago
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I wanted to try my hand at animation and decided some scribbly walk and run cycles would be a fun way to do it. I’ve always liked to imagine that, based on Soundwave’s body structure and the fact that he’s already a delightfully eldritch cryptid of a Cybertronian, he could walk and run on all fours with ease.
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septimusmoonlight · 9 months ago
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Anonymous: IK this sounds funny but here me out. A monster steals you from ur village be cuz ur simply too much for him to handle, he's fallen in love with ur simple human beauty. Now he takes you away to his cave and wants to get a lil spicy with you right? He's huge like massive, enormous and with a huge cock to match. He has a big scary voice but strangely enough he's kind. Even while he's fucking you roughly and animal like he praises you for taking his cock so well and comments on ur beauty.
Aw, what a sweetheart~
I’m wandering around in the outskirts of my village, where the dense forest starts to creep up on the outermost buildings. I’m simply taking a walk to clear my head, admiring the early-spring flowers and the mild chill in the air, before I get the sense that something might be wrong when I hear the underbrush to my left being frantically bulldozed through. I don’t have time to react before a big, scale-covered creature with beautiful curled horns, broad shoulders, dragon-like legs, and a tooth-filled snout crashes into me at full speed, picks me up, and then sprints back deep into the woods at a terrifying speed with me held close to its chest, dodging surprisingly nimbly around the trees for something of its size.
It - he? - finally slows down when we get back to its - his - lair: the space between two enormous boulders that are both more like small hills than lone rocks. The entrance is marked by two fallen trees leaning against each other over it, forming a tent-like structure and serving to make the door less visible to outsiders. When we get inside, he pulls another log up to the hole to close it with a single hand, still holding me in the other, which gives a good picture of the kind of strength I’d be dealing with if I decided to fight.
Then, he turns away from the entrance and lifts me to his face. To my surprise, though, he doesn’t open his maw to eat me; instead, he presses his snout to my lips, forcing a long tongue down my throat in what I realize is his version of a kiss. I choke and gag on the slimy appendage, caught off-guard - and unwillingly turned on.
“You,” he rumbles after he pulls his tongue out of my mouth, “are even more beautiful up close.”
I don’t even have the words for the amount of questions that his statement immediately floods my head with.
“I couldn’t help myself,” he continues, his voice deeper, primal, bigger than any human voice I’ve ever heard before. “I just had to have you. You were too bewitching a sight to let go, and your body and scent have haunted my dreams.” As a disoriented tangential thought, I find it interesting that creatures like this can actually dream - but that concept is gone a moment later when he starts tearing off my clothes. “There’s no need for you to wear these around me,” he says. “I want to see your naked form all the time, unobscured.”
I’m distantly flattered, but the primary thought going through my head is just what the fuck repeated over and over again.
“And now that I have you, I want to be able to have you whenever I want, without clothing in the way,” he growls more urgently. I look down, and I immediately see what he means - he’s sporting a massive, dripping hard-on, half-again the length of my forearm and as thick around as my thigh, with a tapered head. My first thought is the knowledge that he’s doing this to me without my consent, but my second is the knowledge that said non-consent is turning me on…and just looking at what he’s equipped with isn’t making things any better.
The monster inhales deeply, slowly through his nose, and I realize that he probably has a sharper sense of smell than any human - which means that he can probably tell that I’m getting wetter by the second. Like he’s confirming as much, he lowers me until I’m face-to-face with the evidence of his desire. “I can tell you like it,” he rumbles. “Go on, have a taste. It’s just a nice preview of what I’m going to do to you.”
I hesitate, but then - both turned on and scared of the monster’s enormous talons - I lean forward and catch a drop of precum from the side of his cock, dragging my tongue all the way up so that I can latch my lips around the very tip and get more of it into my mouth. It’s salty, strong, with a bitter aftertaste that somewhat lingers in the back of my mouth - but he has a smell, a musk that’s downright intoxicating.
He laughs, a strange sound to hear from something so clearly inhuman. “See, isn’t that nice? Now-” He puts me down on the floor and pins me in place with one hand, positioning himself with the other. “You’re already gorgeous, and I can only imagine you’ll make noises to match.”
He forces the tip into me, and I’m already stretched wide, even just this much wider than anything I’ve ever taken before. I arch my back as much as I can, the monster keeping me mostly immobile, and I cry out in surprise, pain, and an uncomfortable amount of pleasure.
“Oh, just like that,” the monster growls. “That’s so pretty, keep making sounds like that for me, beautiful little thing.” He slowly, slowly sinks himself deeper. “I’m hardly having to make an effort because you’re already so wet, taking me so well.” He shifts his hips slightly, then suddenly pushes into me much deeper. “Do you like it?”
He already told me that he can smell that I like it, and I manage to gasp as much - but the monster laughs quietly.
“I want to hear you say it,” he rumbles. “I want to hear your pretty voice breaking while you tell me how good it feels.”
I obey, telling him in a shaky voice interspersed with small yelps and whimpers that it feels good, it feels really good and I like how big he is.
“You like being small? You like taking something as big as me?” he asks. “You’re even more perfect than I imagined. I thought you would be a lot more opposed to this at first.” His hips finally meet mine, and it feels like he’s filling my entire torso and then some. “But this feels good?”
I’m struggling to put sentences together, but I still get enough of a hold on my words to say in a slightly-strangled voice that yes, it feels good, it feels so good, holy shit, please fuck me this feels so good oh fuck-
“That’s perfect, you’re so perfect.” He starts thrusting, but does not start slow. “I’m so happy that your pretty little body is mine, I’m so lucky that you can take me so well, so beautiful…”
He keeps showering me with compliments and praise even as he pounds into me over and over and over again. I can’t resist or even pretend to fight - I’ve completely lost control at this point, so I simply give in and moan for him, begging, pleading, my cries and howls of pleasure echoing from the cave walls, intertwined with the monster’s satisfied growls and grunts.
At one point, he finally puts enough force into his movements to break through my cervix and start fucking my womb directly. He hisses in pleasure, apparently appreciative of the new tightness - but his reaction is nothing compared to mine, an explosive orgasm that makes my legs shake and my eyes roll back in my head and my voice crack.
“You like me breaking you?” he breathes, his voice half-awed and half-rough with pure lust. “You’re absolutely incredible. Most other people would be scared or angry, but here you are, and I’m lucky enough to have you moaning on my cock.”
At this point, I can’t help myself - I tell him how good it feels, how badly I want him to break me, it feels so good, please fuck my womb, break me, please…
“I’ll be more than glad to,” he snarls, and speeds up his already-brutal pace.
As I scream in pleasure, my entire body quaking as he makes me cum again, I’m starting to think that maybe getting kidnapped isn’t so bad after all.
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mariyekos · 2 months ago
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For those of you (like me!) who missed it, there was a Behind the Scenes video released for the first Devil May Cry Netflix Anime back in November 2023, which includes a few scenes that aren't in either the old or new trailer!
This is where we got the shots of the female character who might(?) be Lady but didn't appear in the trailers. It's also where we got shots of a fight that doesn't appear in the latest trailer...unless it's an old version that's since been changed. Putting some screenshots and thoughts below the cut!
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"Lady", or the Woman in the Behind the Scenes Video
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Above: 1) Dante and the woman running on a rooftop, 2) The woman falls off rooftop, Dante sprints to the ground past her, 3) The woman continues falling and Dante gets prepped to catch her (note: there's something on the right that at first I thought might be Kalina-Ann, but on re-watches looks like a broken pipe).
My thought is that this could be Lady because it mirrors their encounters in DMC3 to an extent. The first shot makes me think of running through the library during her fight. The second and third shot of her falling and Dante catching her is reminiscent of when she fell off the Temen-ni-gru and Dante caught her (by the leg).
However...I hope it's not Lady, because other than the hairstyle, she doesn't look like Lady to me. This DMC is clearly going for a more modern aesthetic than DMC3 (and most of the DMCs, with 5 having the most "modern" look in terms of the city), but this woman's outfit reads very techo-futuristic to me and I would rather not have Lady dress like that. It just doesn't feel very Lady-like to me, y'know? That and I just think it was cool when Lady decided to shoot Dante and save herself when falling in DMC3. Please don't damsel in distress her like this :(
(Related: While I know the real reason Lady dresses like she does is that it's cute/hot, I like to HC that she typically doesn't wear armor because she needs to be able to move, and she figures any demon who'll be able to hurt her will be strong enough to make it through armor anyway so she might as well something mobile and comfortable.)
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Now I will say, this woman doesn’t have the Kalina-Ann on her, just two pistols(?), so one possible story-line I’m thinking of is that this is Lady, but in a point early in the story where she’s working for some mercenaries or some sort of group to establish herself while she’s hunting Arkham. Then, later on she might split from them and don something more akin to her usual outfits while she runs around with the Kalina-Ann we all know and love. Another option is that this plain isn’t Lady. That’s my ideal.
Another reason why I’d like if this isn’t Lady is that I really do enjoy the young/schoolgirl aesthetic Lady has going in the original DMC3 and DMC3 Manga, because it sells just how messed up Arkham and his actions are. The scene of a teenager being the one to end her father's life and crying over him feels so much more chilling than it would if she was, say, 25. Lady’s a teenager who’s had her mother and her life stolen from her, and that’s tragic. This woman doesn’t read like a teen to me. And while Dante also reads as a little older and anime is notorious for making 17 year olds look 30 and 30 year olds look 17, that doesn’t eliminate the fact that I think an older looking Lady would lower the impact of certain scenes, even if the show says she’s 16. I like when Lady is younger than Dante, because Dante’s this teenager who’s so irresponsible, but then in comes Lady who’s even younger but seems to have it together…until eventualy you come face to face with the idea that oh, oh boy, this is all terrible and no one should be having to deal with this, Arkham what have you done (both with essentially orphaning Lady and partnering with the teenage Vergil (and screwing over the teenage Dante) as part of his evil plan. Which Vergil agrees to and helps with, so he's far from innocent, but still).
Comparison between Behind the Scenes and the New Trailer
It's also possible that the show might've changed aesthetics a bit between the previous trailer and this one.
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See these shots from the new trailer (which I will refer to as NT)? I wonder if they're updated variants of this scene from the Behind the Scenes (BtS) video below.
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Now I'll admit this is kind of a stretch. Buuuuut I'm going to stretch to make it anyway. In both scenes, Dante is being attacked by a group of humans. Yes, he fights humans across different media, but if the DMC anime is mostly Dante vs a bunch of humans with human weapons, I'm going to be very bored, so that's why I'm hoping this is just storyboard vs Final version of a scene. And yes, I know that's a lot of work to redo...but maybe reception was bad and they pivoted, and that's part of why we went a year without any news.
Other big things: the arcade cabinets.
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I'm pretty sure this is supposed to be Dante's shop in both shots, and again, if Dante gets jumped by a bunch of humans in his shop multiple times, I'm going to be upset/bored because really? That's such a basic thing to reuse. Please don't do that. Thus I'm banking on the BtS version being the original idea, with the NT version being what the animators/director pivoted to.
And the thing I caught onto before I noticed the arcade cabinets: the guy(s) on the floor.
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Again, it's entirely possible these are different scenes. A guy getting knocked out is one of the most basic things in any show that includes any kind of fighting. But...if they were redoing a scene, why not keep a few of the elements like the guy(s) Dante has knocked out? Are we going to have multiple scenes of people jumping Dante in his shop, Dante knocking them out, and the shop being partially destroyed? Seems excessive.
Lastly, these two shots:
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Now the Rebellion thing is deeeeefinitely a stretch. The other stuff I mentioned in regards to this two scenes is stuff I'm pretty sure of Rebellion nah, especially since it doesn't come right after the other scenes in the BtS video (which are all together), whereas all the shots I included of the NT are in sequence. But the reason I included it is because it feels like a very good establishing shot of Dante, where they might have initially wanted to have him fight some people and pull up Rebellion on its own, but later changed their mind to having the zoom happen mid-fight. The way the walls are messed up in the BtS video makes me think that shot's in Dante's shop, and as I've said a million times before, I think it would be boring/lazy to repeat the same events in the same place.
Closing Thoughts
If the fight scenes above ARE the older and newer versions of the same scene, this does give me some hopes that if the woman in the top shots is meant to be Lady, they might've gone back and fixed up her design to make her more Lady-like. I don't want techno-futuristic outfits. I want someone who's in more traditional combat gear or otherwise at least in more cloth. The thing I love about Lady is how she looks like a teenager whose life veered off the road into the realm of demon hunting, and I think the whole "high school uniform paired with guns and belts and so on" does a great job of visually expressing that.
I will say that the military does seem to get involved at some point due to some shots of a gatling gun, armored truck, and missile, and the guys in the BtS video look more military than the mercenary types of the NT, so they still could be two different fights... but I hope not. The modern tech stuff doesn't feel very DMC to me. I want to keep the spirit of the games, even if we go for new things. (And yes, I know the military shows up in DMC5, but they're there for all of two minutes so if they do show up in the Netflix DMC, I hope they're only there for a short while.)
If you've made it to the end, thank you for reading! If you want to see me break down the new trailer, I made a post about it here.
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frracturedjaw · 2 years ago
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Hello! Can I request a Bo Sinclair x GN Reader Oneshot based off this “When I look at you all I can see are the mistakes we’re going to make (The future’s so bright)” ?
I imagine it to be a fluffy, reassurance one shot where Bo is so scared at the idea of loving someone but he tries and he makes a lot of mistakes. The reader then assures him that his efforts aren’t unnoticed and that it’s completely okay because even if what he’s trying to do/express doesn’t come out right, they know he loves them. Mistakes are simply bounds of love for the two :)
warning(s): alcohol, canon typical violence, unhealthy relationship dynamics (reference to reader having initially been a potential victim before entering relationship w bo)
a/n: i know you said fluffy but for me bo is so deliciously fucked up i had to make it a little dark :’) it gets fluffy at the end i promise lol
it’s been raining all day, so you’ve been stuck inside with each other for too long. him pestering you while you try to cook dinner is the spark that lights the dynamite.
“you sure that’s cooked all the way through?” he asks from the table a few feet away, eyeing the spitting meat on the pan.
“I’m sure.” you reply amicably.
“it weren’t on there for that long.”
“you saw me stick it with the thermometer just a moment ago. I’m sure.” you repeat.
“just wanna be sure,” his voice jumps higher in a way that feels condescending. you know better than to point that out, though. “you know what I’d do if you tried to feed me raw meat.”
“I know plenty well.” you’re quiet now, hoping to keep him from getting upset before anything’s even happened.
“you think so?” he stands from the table and wanders up near the counter beside you.
“mmh.” you reply noncommittally.
“what’s that? speak up, doll. you know how much I hate it when you mumble.”
“I’m not in the mood right now, Bo. I’ll let it sit a little longer if it’ll make you happy.”
“not in the mood, huh?” he hums, hand resting on the handle of the pan, shifting the meat around with a gentle shake. the cords of muscle in his forearm tighten. “I’m not in the mood for the fuckin’ backchat, now, either.”
“Bo.” you’ve never raised your voice at him before. not until now, at least. if he wants to try a proper relationship with you, he’s gonna have to try treating you like a person, too, you decide. “quit trying to start shit.”
the screech of him pressing the cast iron pan down and sliding it across the burner makes you screw your eyes shut. that’s when he decides to tip it out on the floor.
hot oil and liquefied fat spatter out onto the tiles and across your bare feet.
you’re out the side door and sprinting into the rain before he has time to grab you. the blinding pain of your burning skin is only made worse by the pelting rain. the field you’re in has some kind of bramble that keeps slashing across your legs, but the new blood doesn’t register over the animal compulsion to get away get away get far far far away.
even when he’s already fifty feet out from the house and into the pour, bo can hear you sobbing. it’s a guttural, ragged breath in, whine-shriek out that he remembers from your time under the garage. at one point he’d convinced himself he would never let you make that sound again. and look how well that’s going, he thinks. he stops and turns to go get the truck. you’re not faster than him, but he needs to be sure you won’t get out too far. he needs to.
when headlights flood the field with stark shadows, you drop to the ground. the grass is tall enough to cover you, but the path of fallen plants you’ve left in your wake will clue him in instantly. cold doom settles in your belly. your brief stint of freedom is already over. the blinding pain of the burns surfaces at the front of your mind again, and your face is hot with tears. streaked with mud, you stand again. the truck rumbles to a halt some ten feet away. you wait for his boots to hit the ground before you start running again. despite this, he’s on you in seconds. Bo barrels into you like an ox, shouldering you back to the ground. you land on your arm hard and do not move.
you do not move for the entire drive back. not when he gathers you in his arms so delicately, like he’s holding a porcelain doll. not when he pulls a wool blanket around your sodden body and bundles you into the passenger seat. not when he carries you piggy-back up to the bathtub, not when he pulls away your wet clothes and murmurs to himself about the state you’re in.
it’s when he reaches into the tub, for your hand to hold in his, that’s when you slap him away. he flinches away, lips pressed into a thin line.
“I-“
“what do you want?” you can’t think of anything else to ask. first he slaughters your friends, then he decides to spare you. he tortures you within an inch of your life, then decides to keep you like a pet. he locks you in a bedroom and treats you like shit, then changes his mind and convinces you you’re his lover. you can’t think of what he’s trying to do this time. he is silent for a frustratingly long time before he responds.
“… I wanted you to come home.”
“I was home, Bo! and you drove me out! I don’t know what else you want from me!” you splash the dirtied water at him on impulse, then immediately brace against what you know will come next.
you know it, and you see it start, too. you see his fist curl, the one with the thick silver ring on it that leaves the darkest bruises. you see it jerk towards your head, then stop. he drops his hand to his lap and seems almost ashamed. bath water drips from his jaw.
“it was… not right. I’m… I know that well enough.”
“no shit,” you scoff, scrubbing idly at the dirt on your arms.
“yeah.” his hand comes to rest on the edge of the tub. you don’t move, but are just as ready to crush it into the enameled iron. “I see myself doing shit that ain’t right all the time. I see it and I still keep doin’ it.”
“mmh.”
“i wanted to talk with you. at dinner. and… i wanted to break something, too. i’m always wanting to fuck with something. you… were just the closest thing around.”
“guess so.”
silence. the quiet sloshing of warm water.
“i wish the loving things part of me was bigger than the breaking things part.”
“i wish it was, too.”
he doesn’t come to bed. after drying off and laying motionless in the dark, you go to find him downstairs. for what reason, you aren’t very sure, yourself.
when you find him on the couch, he’s smaller than usual. he has his knees pulled up near his chest and his arms tucked close. the TV bathes the cluttered room in blue light that only makes his flushed face more apparent. he’s drank himself to sleep.
you reach out to touch his shoulder, and the moment his eyes open, his lip quivers.
“sweetpea,” he whispers, voice breaking. “i’m sorry i hurt you.”
“you being a sloppy drunk doesn’t make me believe you.”
“i know.” he drops his head back to the couch, still gazing at you. his eyes fill with tears, and you almost go back upstairs then and there, because you’re starting to feel bad. “i wouldn’t believe me either. papa raised a liar.”
“you know we don’t talk about your papa for a reason, Bo.”
“yeah, but it’s true.” his voice wavers, and his hand swings out in search of yours. you grab it, if only to keep him from knocking a bottle onto the floor and making a mess. “he raised a liar and a killer and a shit person.”
“anyone would turn out that way, growing up in this house.” you offer.
“this in’t an excuse, though,” he points to the scars on his wrist. “i chose to pour that hot shit out, not him.”
“that means you can choose not to, next time, also.”
“but nobody’s that patient. she’s so sweet to me, but i only got so many second chances.” he whimpers, seeming to forget he’s speaking to you. “i wouldn’t blame her if she ran out on me.”
“i think that so long as you keep opening up to her, like you did in the bath today, she’ll stick around.”
“mmh.” he hums, eyes drooping shut, but his hand remains firmly in yours. “i s’pose.”
“goodnight, Bo.” you have to peel his fingers off you and lay his hand against his chest to get him to let go.
“g’night.” you hear him sigh as you ease up the stairs once more.
you hear him tiptoe up the stairs a few hours later. you can only imagine it’s early-early morning, judging by the dusty purple sky out the window. he’s painfully slow about setting his boots down at the door. you can barely hear his breathing. his path to the bed is odd, until you realize he’s avoiding the loudest floorboards. he eases onto the bed slowly and presses his whole body against yours. you’re just as careful not to startle him, measuring your breaths, pretending to sleep. after much adjusting, tucking his chin over your shoulder, sighing, he tips his head close to your ear.
“i’ll get better. i promise. i’ll get better for you.” he whispers.
if only for tonight, you believe him.
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daisy-mooon · 1 year ago
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Spark
Whumptober 2023 Day 4: Cattle prod
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Apollo sprinted as fast as his legs could carry him, lunging for the griffins. Calypso sat upon the female, her arms locked reassuringly around her neck, and Meg was perched anxiously on the male, all but screeching at him to hurry up, when something struck his back and he fell cleanly onto the ground.
It took him a moment to realise what it was between the stabbing, sparks of pain that set his entire body alight in familiar agony. Something he’d only briefly glanced at, something that should have been kept in the shadowed corner of the enclosure, something that should have never been used on any of the furiously anxious animals locked behind the glass let alone be in sight of them - a cattle prod.
His head was achingly warm against the sandy ground, and his eyes watered as dust swept into his face. Distantly, Apollo was aware that Meg had broken out screaming. Calypso was yelling. He could see and hear nothing of Litreyses, but he could feel something cold and metallic prick carefully at his shoulder blades, pressing his limp form firmly into the floor, before electricity wept through his spine. 
The world around him turned into a haze - it wasn’t that Apollo couldn’t see it, it was that he was physically incapable of processing the world around him. With his face in the floor, there wasn’t a lot that he could see anyway.
There was one, particularly loud cry from Calypso before he heard something huge move, before he heard the footsteps of Germani, before he heard the flapping of wings, before Meg’s wails grew more and more distant before drifting into nothingness. In some far-removed part of his mind, he allowed himself to feel relieved that she had escaped. She’d been through enough already. But still, he'd just gotten her back, he'd just gotten to see her again-
His thoughts were cut off as the prod reignited - he’d been so dazed that he didn’t even realise that it had stopped in the first place. A fresh scream tore from his lips and he mustered up only a single twitch in defence. Out of all the weapons Lityerses could have used, he had chosen to weaponise electricity. He was a master swordsman with a sword, for the love of the gods, and chose the one thing-
It buzzed again. The sparks were thick and suffocating, like being skewered by a million arrows at once. It was burning, consuming-
A pause. A relief. His skull was numb against the floor, and he let it stay there.
“I thought we were going to kill him.” The Germani were arguing with Lityerses now, no doubt some wanting revenge for their wounds, others wanting to bring him back to Commodus and get their mission over with. Apollo tried to flex his hand to see if there was any way he could try and fight back against the next weapon. His fingers barely moved.
“Well, I was.” A boot made contact with his head, nudging it in a way that wasn’t really rough, but definitely wasn’t gentle. Even that managed to hurt. “But the other two escaped with the griffins, and Commodus was very insistent on having Apollo to start with. I’d rather bring him something than nothing at all.”
Commodus wanted him? That… could mean a whole plethora of things-
“No, I don’t know what he wants with Apollo beyond making sure that he stops messing with the Triumvirate. Something about bathtubs? I didn’t ask.”
…So it meant something that would probably result in his death. That was… that was great.
“Maybe Apollo knows.” One of the Germani suggested, before helpfully kicking him in the ribs. He coughed in a way that was dry and cracked and full of pain. Had he broken his ribs? It would certainly explain the horrific burst of pain that flooded through him-
The cattle prod stabbed back into him without warning. He screamed again, something that completely drowned out the sound around him. At any other time, he would have been grateful to receive a fraction of his voice back, but now? Surrounded by Imperial guards that were intent on capturing and torturing him? It did nothing but remind him of how utterly helpless he was. 
Tears beaded out into the corners of his eyes and he clenched them shut, determined not to give the Germani, determined not to give Lityerses, any more satisfaction in his suffering then he could help. That idea was lost to him as it lifted for an aching moment of relief, before pressing gently into the flesh of his neck.
None of the guards laughed at him for the sob that rattled through him. Or at least he didn't think they did. It was hard to hear when his entire being was racked with agony, had been even when he was a god. He felt himself begin to teeter on the edge of unconsciousness.
It stopped briefly as someone began to yank his arms behind his back and clamped something cold and hard around his wrists, then began again as his hands were dropped back onto them. Apollo couldn't cry out this time, throat too choked and strained to make out anything coherent, and he let out a thick, strangled gurgle. It stopped again as similar cold things- no, they were manacles of some sort- were locked around his ankles. He tried to push his leg, tried to kick whoever was restraining him, and his body went alight with pain in retaliation. No matter how many times sparks were forced into his veins for doing something wrong, he'd never get used too it.
"That's enough." Lityerses called from the side. It stopped. Had he not been the one electrocuting him? "We need to get him out of here before the zoo opens."
"One more?"
"Well, Apollo isn't stopping you."
He felt cool metal press against the top of his skull, and lost all connection to reality as the pain hit him.
His body hurt.
Someone was dragging him across the ground. 
Something metal poked him and he twitched in fear, terrified of the cattle prods return-
The light around him burnt into an intense, glowing fury. It wasn't the warn rays of his sun, or the cool shine of his sisters moon, but harsh and blunt and interrogative.
He swore he could hear laughter.
Apollo woke up, cold, sore and aching. 
Every part of him screamed as he opened his eyes, protesting the torture they had been through- what, hours before? Days? He wasn't sure. He didn't know if he had a clock, wherever he was, and he didn't know if he had the strength to look at it even if there was one.
Right... where was he?
His eyes had opened but he hadn't bothered to look, too distant from his own body to concentrate. As he forced himself to focus, his nerves protesting even louder as he became fully aware of his body, he saw the plainest of surroundings. Fluorescent lights. Uniform white walls. A polished marble floor. The room was adorned in a golden trim. He attempted to draw comfort in the colour, a similar colour to his bow, but it left him feeling hollow and empty. 
The room was plain, yet elegant. There were no shadows at all, no dark spaces to hide and retreat into, and the intensity of the brightness convinced his eyes to ache with the rest of him. It was with this exposure that Apollo then became acutely aware that he was lying down in a hollowed out section of the floor, the perfect space for a human to lie down in. The perfect size for a large, luxurious bathtub
Oh.
Oh.
Apollo writhed, attempting to pull himself out of it immediately, but the manacles that had been pressed against him earlier kept him immobile against the freezing stone. He started to notice things around him. The fact that the top of the bathtub-like mound was taller than his head could reach. One golden, tap-like pipe at each end. The concerning lack of a drain. And, perhaps most importantly, the opening of a door. 
From his point in the floor, he couldn't see who entered. But judging by the slow, dramatic pace, he had a rather good guess as to who.
Commodus walked all the way from the door behind his head, to the end of the bathtub where his feet were shackled. He looked- he wanted to say that he looked hideous, but he couldn't. He looked stunning, like every part of the New Hercules he claimed to be. And Apollo hated it.
"Hello, Apollo." His eyes glittered in the light. They were pretty, in the way a wolf's eyes were pretty before it leapt forward to rip your throat out. What he wouldn't do to be surrounded by his sacred animal right now. "It's been quite a while now, hasn't it?"
"...Commmodus." He hated how silky his voice was whilsy his own broke in anticipating terror. He hated how incomparably gorgeous he looked. He hated how he wanted to kiss him. These were not thoughts he should be having right as he was most likely about to kill him.
His head tilted to the side and drank the sight of him in, lingering at the parts he supposed were desirable. Apollo then became intensely aware that he was still very much in the body of a teenager, and any all of his attraction was replaced by the desire to throw up. Was Commodus seeing Apollo, the four thousand year old god, or was he seeing Lester, the sixteen year old boy? He hoped to every god in every pantheon that it was not the latter.
He was snapped outside his discomfort by laughter. Commodus' laughter. "Now, now Apollo. Don't you have anything else to say? After all, it has been a couple millenia since we've last spoken. No thanks to you murdering me."
Even after that enormous stretch of time, Apollo still had every detail of that day seared into his mind. Like a painful brand you could ignore, but never forget. He shivered through the fear and looked at him straight in the eyes. "And what do you want me to say, Commodus?"
"There are a variety of things I want you to say." Commodus leaned down, slowly, and swung his legs over the side of the bathtub. His sandals skimmed the tops of his shoes. "There are a variety of things I want you to do. There are far fewer, and much more important things that I simply want from you."
…sweat began to bead at the back of his neck. Apollo forced himself not to focus on Commodus' body, but even if he hadn't had the willpower, he wouldn't have been able to feel desire for him anyway. Had he been in any other circumstance, he may have struggled, but there was something deeply uncomfortable at having him say anything… implicative whilst he was restrained at his mercy. 
"And what kind of things do you want from me?" He asked, wrists twitching against the restraints. They did not give. 
Commodus let himself bask in silence for a moment, observing the small, animal-like signals of his fear, before moving until he was sat on the side of the bathtub, at such a position that he could easily reach down and touch his face and chest. Then, slowly, he turned around and gripped something that had been lying on the floor out of his sight.
Apollo twitched against his will as he fingered the cattle prod and began to slowly, slowly press against the dip in his collarbone, right the bottom of his throat. His eyes betrayed him, displaying a look of hoarse, vengeful delight.
"I want to hear you scream." Commodus said simply, before flicking the cattle prod on.
He clamped his mouth shut almost on instinct as electricity coarsed through him, and it took every bone in his body not to immediately start pleading for mercy. This was not his father. This was not a safe person to start begging too. Another crackle raced through him and he shook, biting down hard enough that his jaw began to ache. He was fucked.
It stabbed into that hollow once again, making his muscles seize and lock up in a cruel mirror of paralysis, and Apollo clutched his eyes closed equally as hard as his mouth as he felt the first beginnings of tears form in his eyes. He wasn't even sure why he was being defiant, why he was trying to hide himself from Commodus when he very clearly had intentions of murdering him the moment this was over. Maybe seeing Meg, maybe knowing Meg was safe had inspired him to act something like her. Maybe it was the humiliation that would come with giving in. He didn't know. Though really, with the pain ripping through him, he couldn't.
A question was said above him and he remembered shaking his head weakly, already feeling the skin under his eyes dampen in preparation for tears. Commodus moved away from that spot, having decided that he wanted to know what he looked like when he was writhing from pain in another location, and poked at the side of his neck.
Apollo didn't quite scream, but he did whimper as he attempted to jerk away from it. A peal of soft, dark laughter rang out from next to him he stabbed again at the same spot and held it there. It was beyond painful. The electricity seeped into every part of him just like his father's lightning - skin, muscle, nerves and bone, nothing could be hidden from it. He could feel his ears start to ring, but he was somehow able to make out that he was talking to him about something.
Another noise curled out of his mouth before he had the time to stop it, accompanied by a smooth, sliding tear. Commodus paused. He didn't know whether to feel grateful for the pause or disgusted at his touch as he slowly wiped the tear away, balancing its remnants on the pad of his finger. 
He tsked. "Now this is the kind of reaction I want, Apollo. Don't try and hide them now, there's nothing wrong with feeling the pain of electrocution."
Apollo's mouth opened stiffly and he inhaled a shaky breath. It was interrupted by the cattle prod being forced between his teeth and his eyes flew open in a panic. He'd made a mistake. He'd made a huge, massive mistake-
He wasn't sure if he stayed fully conscious through that round, but he was very confident in the fact that he screamed. Artemis liked to tease that his screams would scare every wild creature for miles, and the memory motivated him to scream louder, somehow, as if it was possible to scare Commodus away like he was nothing more and an animal. He couldn't move. Couldn't think. Couldn't comprehend the pain. He began to inhabit the air around him, began to inhabit the bright fluorescents and the chilling marble, completely detached from his body yet somehow wailing. He started outright sobbing, wanting to plead too his father to stop, whilst drowning in the knowledge that he could make nothing but cries with Commodus having shoved the cattle prod between his teeth-
It stopped and he sunk back into reality, slowly, one piece at a time. The cattle prod was gone, leaving a sensitive jaw and aching teeth. The buzzing of electricity seemed to have dispersed, apart from lingering throbs that wrecked him in every place at once. The emperor beside him was standing up, speaking to someone, not even looking at him.
Through the corners of his eyes, blurred by tears and exhaustion, he saw Commodus scowl. He heard rather than saw the cattleprod clatter onto the floor, and he turned back to him.
"I wouldn't worry, Apollo." His eyes glimmered cruelly. "I'll be back to have a proper reunion later."
Somehow, he got the idea that a 'proper reunion' included choking him in the bathtub shaped space he was trapped in. But Commodus didn't stop to explain himself, and he didn't have the energy nor the desire to ask, and he left him tied down and battered without a second thought. 
"Apollo?"
He startled, weakly straining at the cuffs to see who was there. They were, rather annoyingly, imperial gold, and pulling did nothing but cut bruises into his skin.
"Apollo." He knew that voice, but he couldn't place it. Why couldn't he place it?
Footsteps pattered towards him, and suddenly a small, grubby face was staring down at him with huge, watering eyes. She looked like she'd seen a ghost. She looked like she'd seen someone that she'd killed.
"Meg." Apollo croaked, his voice still quiet and heavy from the electrocution, mouth not fully recovered. He realised with a shock that it left marks. Marks that Meg could see. "Meg, what are you-"
In a second, her scimitars hard twirled into her hands and were slicing through the restraints like they were butter. In a second, tiny, chubby hands were yanking at the unhurt areas of his arms, pulling him upwards and out of the floor. In a second, all of the pain in the world didn't matter. Meg was there.
He then panicked, because Meg was there. Had Commodus captured her? His voice strained with panic. "What are you doing here?"
She sniffed and buried her face into his shoulder without second thought, arms wrapping around him both tight enough that she felt like she would never let go, and gentle enough that it felt like she was treating him like the most fragile sculpture in the world. The space around him seemed to dissolve as she cried, sobs racking her entire body. No shout, no scream, no death, not even the end of the world could have been enough to distract him from this moment.
"I left you." Meg whispered, curling into him. "I left you."
"Meg, what-" someone came running into the room and he tensed, wrapping his arms around her as tightly as possible, terrified of someone taking her away. "Oh my gods, Apollo-?"
He was distantly aware of Leo's face coming into view, joined quickly by two silver adorned girls, all three wearing faces of shock and horror. He must have looked like shit, and vainly, he allowed himself to feel just the smallest bit relieved that they were worried about him. But that wasn't important. What was important was that Meg was here, Meg was right here and he wasn't letting her go-
"We need to move. The rest of the Hunters are fighting Commodus' forces." One of the girls said quickly. He blinked. They were Hunters of Artemis. Apollo started crying just as hard as Meg. "Valdez, you grab one arm. Tana, you grab the other-"
She began cutting away at the restraints at his ankles, as Leo and the Hunter (Tana, he assumed) slowly tried to coax him and Meg apart. He, for the most part, ignored them and sobbed with her, burying his face into the top of her head and whispering reassurances into her ear.
"I'm not leaving you again." She protest as Leo slowly prised her off of him, displaying distraught, bloodshot eyes that matched in colour with the frames of her glasses. "I'm not-"
"You won't have too." He whispered back, hand firmly entwined in hers. "I promise."
His reunion with Commodus could wait. Apollo had one job, and one job alone - comforting Meg.
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comfort-person · 1 year ago
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Request: hi!! This is probably super weird but can you do more Jamie/ Henry/ Vecna/ Jamie characters.. like Jace too as well maybe? Idk if that’s your vibe but I’d adore it if you wrote more Jamie stuff pls! Tysm lovieee, have a good day!
A/N: thank you for the request!! Not weird at all lovely! I fucking love writing Jamie characters like AH so I’ll totally try doing some more, although I can’t promise that the characterisation will be great but hey ho. I hope this is okay! I’m attempting to not recycle ideas over and over so here’s a better version of something I’ve tried to write before… but shorter? Sorry LMAO, I’ve had like no motivation to write lately so that’s why it’s died down a lot… but… I hope this works? Much love, Amber xx
Trigger warnings: mention of blood, bodies, kinda fucked up things… it’s the laboratory we’re talking about so I’m sure you know how fucked up that place it… but still- just a warning- read at your own discretion!
“Come,”
The man’s voice echoed through the tunnels, slender fingers wrapped around your wrist as he practically dragged you with him. How did you get into this situation? Well… it was a lot to process. A massacre had occurred in Hawkins Laboratory. The few remaining doctors, and some orderlies, dressed in white scurried around- yelling at each other, whereas armed guards were searching the premise for the two escapees: Henry creel and Y/n Y/l/n or as everyone else knew you: 001 and 002. Two very dangerous individuals who were capable of mass murder. “One… we’re in danger.” Your shaky voice whispered out to him and his eyes flicked down to you, eyes dangerous pools of blue. The eyes that held so much trauma- hurt… absolute agony. Both of you had known such pain and it wasn’t fair. On either of you. Brenner had inflicted an impossibly cruel amount of pain onto you both… and to think he promised to take care of you. What a lie.
“Where are we supposed to-“ the man abruptly stopped, turning to look at you, you nearly plummeting straight into his chest but his large hands resting upon your shoulders forced you to come to an abrupt stop “two, do you trust me?” He stared deeply into your eyes his brows slightly furrowed but in the subtlest of ways the crease between both brows proving his concern for the situation but he wasn’t scared. He wasn’t worried. He was determined to get you both out of there… Brenner had stolen your lives away from you… ripping it away in such a cruel manner. Brainwashing you all. But that came to a stop now… Brenner wouldn’t be able to do that ever again. Or so henry hoped. You gawked at him unable to quite process his words “two I need an answer. Verbal. Do. You. Trust… me?” His eyes were intimidating, like a wild animal awaiting to pounce on its prey… but he just wanted to make sure he had made the right decision on you. Slowly your head began to nod, before a soft “yes.” Left your lips and the smallest and most subtlest of smiles tugged at his lips, the corners of his mouth quirking up, before he nodded “good.”
And then the both of your were off, once again, sprinting down the similar corridors. Over and over again. They were never ending… his long legs practically made it impossible for you to keep up, his grip on you tight so much so it stung slightly but it had nothing but good intentions: he wasn’t letting you fall behind. “We’re nearly there y/n. Nearly there.” The blonde assured and you nodded not uttering a word for your lungs were trying to focus on breathing all until that fear that once remained hidden started to creep up little by little, voices shouting, you made a split decision that you certainly regretted- you took a glance over your shoulder seeing about six guards, flashlights flicking up and down from how they were running and your eyes instantly widened in fear, your breath catching in your throat “come! We need to leave! Come!” Henry’s voice wavered slightly as he raised his voice at you, and you began sprinting, the guards yelling your names… or well- names was a joke- more like numbers. Because to them you were both nothing more than stupid numbers… how pathetically stupid. His breathing was heavy as he ran with you, his hand now on the middle of your back, forcing you to run faster- run in front of him so nothing could happen to you. It wasn’t something he showed often but it was care. Some type of care.
You both ran for your lives, running and running until eventually you both tumbled out of two double doors that lead to the darkness outside. The air was cold and winter-y, smelling of freshly fallen rain. “C’mon. We can’t stop.” He urged and you nodded immediately rushing in the direction of the woods that surrounded the laboratory. You wanted to try and take everything in but you physically couldn’t… it was all so much… your eyes were wide. Like a deer caught in headlights, you didn’t know how the hell to react. But then your eyes scanned along the grass and to multiple body bags that held one or more children… your stomach churned… they were already clearing out the bodies? Tears gleamed in your eyes and your breath hitched. Why did you care for them still? After all this time? You wished you knew… but you didn’t… it was uselessly pathetic. Your fearful eyes stared at the bodies of the lifeless children “two, we need to go.” His voice growled out clearly trying to stay quiet but you were stuck in a trance… they were only kids… they didn’t deserve it… Henry was desperate to leave but he also attempted to see why you were so effected. Sure it was traumatic… but they shouldn’t of mattered to you. He saw how they corrupted you. How they hurt you…. Why did you even give a damn? None of your tears should’ve been shed over them. You didn’t care for them, no, the care was simply all in your head. Nothing more nothing less. “They’re dead….” Your voice was strained, full of agony, “I know. Don’t look. They don’t matter.” His tone disregarded your emotions, there wasn’t any point in getting emotionally attached to dead people… they were gone. Time couldn’t be rewound. “Two,” his voice for your attention and you looked at him “you trust me… right?” There was that question again, even if he didn’t realise it, he was manipulating you. Manipulating you into going with him… into not caring. It was cruel. But he was saving you. He had saved you. He wasn’t letting you screw this up…
“I-“ “I know you do, 002. That’s why we’re leaving. Now. Come on.” He demanded guards shouting becoming clear and he nudged you forward as the two of you began rushing into the woods “where are we going to go?” You asked quietly but he didn’t respond, he just stayed quiet as you both tore through the woods attempting to find safety but safety didn’t exist. Safety was within the laboratory but Henry and you knew that wasn’t the truth… sure it had been beaten into your weary minds each and every day, suffering dark torture daily, but you both knew better than to trust the cruel man. Was this the beginning of the end? Was this finally when the pain would stop? You hoped so… and so the two fugitives walked for miles. Walking for minutes. Minutes that slowly turned into hours… and soon enough the darkness began to fade, the hue of the sunlight gleaming in the empty lifeless sky…. No birds flew… no nothing… it was simply a blue sky which reflected Henry’s eyes perfectly, his eyes were no longer a raging storm no…. His eyes were calm, empty, numb, peaceful… maybe his pain would stop now? But he knew that not to be true… they could pray and hope that everything would work out in the end but realistically it wouldn’t… because of one simple factor: two broken people couldn’t fix each other. If anything they made each other bleed further and that wasn’t good… but he had chosen to take you. To allow you to have freedom. Why he had spared your life he wasn’t sure… maybe it was for his own needs. Maybe he was greedy. Power hungry. Maybe he did want that power he never had. But now he had all the power in the world. He saw the courage in you. How capable you were. He wanted to use that… maybe it was ill intention but strength of two “freaks” so to speak was unmatchable. He wanted Brenner dead as much as you wanted him dead… and you both would kill him. Maybe not today… or tomorrow… or next week… but whenever it would happen it would be worth it.
Soon enough your legs were burning, your chest too, your lungs practically grasping on for dear life. “We’ve got to be careful. Cautious. Understood?” You nodded, following after him, as the both of you entered a rundown motel. It didn’t seem to be occupied at all. In fact it was completely empty. No one on the front desk… he had hit the jackpot but all at the same time that doubt haunted you both. What if it was nothing but a trap? You watched him grab a random key “second floor.” He muttered, and you nodded, you didn’t know why he had chosen the second floor but he did. He was being tactical. Clever… if they came searching they’d searching bottom to top. It would give you and Henry time to form an escape plan.
You wandered silently with him, until eventually coming to the room, watching him open the door- holding it open for you. There were two separate beds, small and tiny, but you didn’t care. You situated yourself on one of the beds before you laid down knowing you had to be rested… no words were spoken for a while. There wasn’t much to talk about. Sure you were overthinking and so was he but neither of you saw a reason to share that… “henry?” You muttered out… you didn’t hear any response yet you felt his piercing gaze on you, he was awaiting your next words, watching you “why didn’t you kill me?” The man was slightly taken aback by your words but his face barely flinched as he soon answered calmly “because you have potential.” Those words although good made your heart sink as you began to overthink his words… he hadn’t killed you simply because of your potential… your potential in killing. He knew what you could do… he wanted to see how much stronger you could get… but it left a bad taste in your mouth… was he using you? Was that it? He only made you leave with him just so he could use you? You stared at him eyes full of questions yet no question left your lips, instead a simple “okay” fell from your mouth before you turned over, back facing him and he found himself just staring at your back… the silence was comfortable yet a tension lingered in the air, like a thick thunder cloud… but you saw your worth. You were a number… simple… you were only still breathing just so you could be used… how dehumanising…
Part two coming soon x
Excuse how lame that ending was, it’s 2:26 in the morning and I need to be up at 5 so just take this… I hope it’s okay ahhaha, thank you for the request! Love you all x
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absolutesort · 2 years ago
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FRANKIE & MILES — DAY THIRTY-FIVE.
location :   gym.
time :  frankies asks abt miles date w eden and takes the news of him wanting to get to know charlene pretty badly.
featuring :   miles /  @heatwayve
𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨.
sweaty miles is her favourite miles. it prompts some instinctive, animal reaction in her that she can’t help but equate to the way that animals on the discovery channel give off a scent that attracts a mate. so when she’s hunting him down, it gives her a sick thrill to discover him in the gym, sprinting up to him with a leonine intent, lips fastening against the back of his neck and breathing him in when she kisses him there. “hey…” she sighs, head dropping against his shoulder, arms sliding to loop around his stomach in a backwards hug. “how was your date? before anyone says shit, i didn’t throw a drink in her face, by the way. the lid came off.” she wants to dispel that rumour before it can even land. “unless you find jealousy hot.... in which case, yeah, i threw a drink at her, bitch.”
miles o'sullivan
"somethin' to be said how you're always appearing right when i'm done at the gym," he laughs, reaching down to lift her up by the thighs, piggy-back so he can run her around. "not done yet, though," but he only manages about two squats, already tired, before he's retiring onto the grass with her behind him. "wait, no shit?" he laughs, and he's turning around to lift her chin up to meet his, practically hovering over her when he presses his lips against hers in a somewhat sweaty-but-affectionate kiss. "can't believe you threw a drink at her for me. so hot," this is said playfully, going along with the bit. though he does kind of wonder what frankie looks like when she's really fuming, figures it's mad sexy. there's a lopsided grin on his features – he thinks they've already established that she's pretty unbothered by this, though, that while they're honest with each other, they're still casual. "it was fun, yeah. 'm glad she chose me – did you know her dad's harrison foster? like, crikey, what's that out in the bush?" he puts on an aussie accent for jokes. he leans back on his hands a bit now, brow furrowing slightly, "it's cool with you, though? the date, and . . . me chatting with other people?"
𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨.
there’s a yelp of surprise when he hoists her up, arms locking around his shoulders, hands sliding beneath his armpits to anchor herself to him—and to tickle him in the process. “yeah, well it’s like bloody mary. if you say sweaty miles three times i’ll appear.” her grip on him only tightens when he sends them toppling into the grass, and for a second she’s back in that first day at casa, the adrenaline and excitement and nerves that came with that moment of mutual attraction. his lips meet hers and she’s yanking him down on top of her, kissing him the way she’d wanted to back when he’d tackled her, legs circling his waist. “obviously. i'd throw a drink at anyone for you. gimme a list of names and i'll kick their ass.” still feels like eden's playing a game there, kissing frankie in the challenge and then taking the guy she’s coupled up with on a date. the more miles talks about eden, the more frankie’s face falls. he’s glad she picked him? what’s that even supposed to mean? that there’s something lacking here? her dad’s harrison foster! gee whiz! and frankie’s dad’s a trucker who makes his own moonshine. “no shit,” frankie answers, attempting to summon humour into her tone, though it falls a little flat. miles leans back and frankie can’t help but do the same, the gesture and the fact that he’s asking if it’s cool feeling somehow linked into one obvious warning sign—that miles is pulling back. frankie’s silent for a moment, chewing on her lip, considering the prospect of him chatting to other people and what that might look like for them. she isn’t exactly thrilled by it. it’s only now that she’s realising this isn’t the way she’d expected the conversation to go ; she’d thought he’d come home from his date like yeah it was cool, but she’s not you. instead, he wants to chat with other people and for her to be cool about it. and she’d told eden she was pretty much closed off to miles.
“sure,” frankie eventually says, or rather huffs, getting to her knees, to her feet, and crossing over to the punching bag. “if that’s what you want. i mean… you were super cool about me still talking to callie, so i can’t really be mad.” she should probably tell her face that, jaw clenched, brow furrowed, a heat creeping up her neck. she picks up her boxing gloves, sliding them on one by one and snapping the velcro across her wrists. “other people as in eden?” she pulls her mitts up into a guard, adjusts her footing, and throws a hook against the side of the bag.
miles o'sullivan
there's no doubt that he's not thinking about anyone else when frankie's kissing him like that, and he's leaning over her, elbows in the grass in the heat. it feels like summer vacation or something, her lips are warm and soft and he desperately needs a shower, but he could stay there all afternoon if no one stopped him. the kiss is a little messy, open-mouthed and eager, side-effect of having missed her throughout the day. his brain's not even caught up with his body to have this conversation, and she's reeling back, pulling herself out from underneath him before he can say another word. immediately, miles feels like he's fucked up, suddenly colder in all the places she'd just been touching him. brow furrows at the way she says, if that's what you want, throwing a hit at the punching bag in front of her. "i was gonna chat to charlene some more," he says. he hardly knows charlene, which is kind of the point. he does want to know her better, finds it hard to keep his brain from going fuzzy when she's flirting in his vicinity. "but," miles gets to his feet, standing up dangerously close to the punching bag, "what do you want?" miles reaches out to steady the bag that swings beside him. he's not cool with the way she's just immediately shut down, and miles forces himself into frankie's line of sight – right in front of the punching bag. if she wants to hit him, he'd prefer that to the sudden coldness, the darkness in her eyes. "'cause it sure seems like you're mad, frankie."
𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨.
charlene. great. well there goes that budding friendship—not that charlene had ever seemed too into it anyway. it always felt like she was being a little standoffish with frankie, that the fun, energetic charlene she gave to everyone else was somehow lost in translation when it came to them, and maybe miles is the reason why. hadn’t he kissed charlene in the challenge? frankie’d assumed it was like, a friendship kiss, or just another part of the game, but maybe she’s willingly blinded herself to the idea that miles could want anyone else. “i want us to be able to talk about this stuff. and i want you to be happy. and if that means sucking face with charlene then… then i’ll just deal with that.” probably the same way she’s dealing with this—small acts of controlled violence against inanimate objects. she lands another hit against the heavy bag, turning, when miles steadies it, to look at him head on, flushed and a little frantic at the edges like a child’s drawing with pen marks scribbled outside of the lines. “i’m not mad, miles, i just need to work out.” if she were more childish, she might snap not everything’s about you, but she’s working on that. trying to, at least. and honestly, this mild frustration bubbling in her is about him, but it’s also at herself, for allowing herself to get wrapped up in something that was barely a few days old.  “but i’m not super stoked about it either.” she drops down to fiddle in the kit bag, pulls out a pair of boxing pads, and passes them to miles. “if you’re gonna stand there, you can at least catch my hits.” and she’ll try not to throw them too hard. “hands up, like this—” she demonstrates with her gloves. “hold them either side of your pretty face. if you flinch, i win.” always has to be some kind of game with her. maybe she can make the whole charlene situation into a game, too. 
miles o'sullivan
there's a small, frustrated exhale that escapes his lips. saying yes to charlene made perfect sense to him – he likes being around her, but he hardly knows a thing about her. seemed only fair that he give it a chance, if she was interested. but looking at frankie now, the way she seems to tense and wind up, it occurs to miles that he doesn't like this distance between them – that it might not be worth it. but if she's throwing her fists at him, at least she's still with him, and miles will take that. as much of her as he can get. "frankie, c'mon," he sighs, "you know that you're easier to read than that." and that this isn't about working out, that she's wearing every emotion plain on her face for him to read and . . . yeah, he really does love that about her. "i don't know what it means, okay? it's early and . . . we're still trying to figure things out and i'm just as confused as you are. will you just – will you please look at me?" he asks, voice cracks on his plea, throat feeling raw. mostly because he hadn't gotten a chance to reach for his waterbottle in the moments between finishing his workout and being tackled by frankie, but that's probably not the only reason his mouth is feeling dry. "you're gonna have to if you're aiming your fists at my face," and he holds up his hands for her. "and if i don't flinch, you've got to slow the fuck down. and talk to me." it's not a game if there's no stakes.
𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨.
guys often tell frankie she’s low-maintenance, which is usually synonymous with you let me fuck other people and don’t get mad about it. maybe she is easy to read—if she were a book, she wouldn’t be a very complex one ; the things she wants are simple, it’s knowing what she wants most that she struggles with—but no girl likes to be told they’re uncomplicated. sure, she likes the fact that miles gets her, but she wants him to get her because he earned it, not because she’s easy. “i told eden i was pretty much closed off to you. i thought that was what you wanted. for us to be focused on each other. no more triangles.” fists swing as she pulses forward on the balls of her feet, jab, cross, jab, hook, repeatedly making contact with the pads strapped to miles’ hands. she is looking at him—or more specifically at his hands, not exactly meeting his eyes—but when his voice cracks she feels something inside of her splinter like a wishbone, eyes snapping across to his with that twisting sucker punch feeling in her gut. it shouldn’t feel like this. if they were on the outside, she’d be all like sure, crack on, i’ve got seven other guys on tinder who want to rearrange my guts, but it’s not the outside. everything in here feels more intense. and after the fallout of her and callie, there’s part of her that’s scared to lose someone she really wants again. it’s a mindfuck and a half, that’s for sure. “we can be casual if you’re looking for casual. like, i know you’re not my boyfriend. i just assumed based on what you said yesterday that you wanted something more.”  she wanted something more. still wants it.
“i’ve done the whole open-relationship thing before.” you kind of have to when you spend half your days travelling around the med in a super yacht. “so if that’s what you want then we’ll make it work, but just… keep me in the loop about it.” because if she needs to start exploring her options, she wants to know before it's too late and she’s handed a one-way ticket back to florida. as it is, she feels like she's fucked it somehow by rushing into this to avoid another callie situation, but maybe the real fuck up is not saying how she feels. use your words, bitch!  “so when you say you wanna chat to her, is it just chatting? or is it kissing and chatting or is it fucking and chatting?” when she breathes out, her glove connects with the boxing pad strapped to miles hand with a hard smack.
miles o'sullivan
his brow furrows, "frankie, what i meant by that conversation was just . . . that i wanted us to be honest with each other, to be able to tell each other things. i never said i expected you to be over your ex or to be closed off, which . . . i didn't think you were. but hell, is that what you want?" he asks, "because i don't want you to just do it 'cause you think i want it or because . . ." miles swallows thickly, not wanting to say it, but he thinks it, because you don't want this to be a repeat of what happened with her. it feels a little like he's living in the shadow of that relationship sometimes, but he likes to think the sun's ahead for them. that there's still time. but does he fuck his chance to find out by not being patient? "can you just stop?" his voice comes out in a low growl, frustrated, "it's what i want this, i want that. stop assuming you know what i want from this and acting like that's what you're trying to be. tell me what you want," he says, shaking the pads off to catch her wrists, to keep them from flying in all directions so that maybe, just maybe she'll give this conversation her focus. because clearly it's escalating to a degree of seriousness that he hadn't expected. 
"i'm not looking for an open relationship, in here or on the outside," not to mention that sounds hella complicated to navigate with all these people from different countries. "but when i say you're easy to read, what i really mean is that . . . you're a shit liar. it is easy for me to get you when you're talking to me, i think, maybe just because i'm paying extra close attention, but all the stuff you don't say? i've got no fucking clue," he sighs. "it's just chatting, frankie. you're the only person i want to be kissing – i hardly know her," which is kind of the point, that he's been so focused on frankie that hearing about the callie stuff from angel kind of scared him, made him realize how little he'd been giving anyone else a chance. "you're still my priority frankie, i told her that," his gaze softens, leveling with hers, "but i need to know what's going on with you." as it is, he didn't expect her to say that she was closed off to the bombshells, his head's still reeling from that. though when he thinks back to how they could've ended that last conversation on different pages, he realizes (though fondly) that they'd gotten too distracted to really conclude what they'd been discussing.
𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨.
“you tell me what you want!” his frustration is palpable, enough that it’s feeding her own, words coming out frayed at the edge with the anger she tries so hard to water down into frantic enthusiasm and sweat out of her system. hands pull against his grip on her wrists, but it only seems to pull her closer to him, noses almost brushing, body tensing with the fizz of frustration and humiliation and desire all mixing together in a melting pot of feeling that bubbles up like pasta left to boil too long. “i know what i want, miles. okay? i want you. and i want you to want me back.” she yanks her wrist against the pull of his grip, attempting to loosen her boxing mits to free her hands and failing. her boxing glove turns to cup the side of his face, comically large against it, like some garish parody of that world where everyone has sausages for fingers. “it doesn’t have to be complicated, and we don’t have to try and nail it down into a box that it doesn’t fit into but… i want to give this a shot. you and me, in our own way. no other bullshit. and i know i can be exhausting to be with, it’s like having a fucking golden retriever who just constantly wants to play and have your attention or whatever, i get that. but i want you to decide that i’m worth it!”
she swallows, forehead pressing forward to bump against his like a cat nuzzling his shin. her lips purse, brows furrowing in the centre a little, a cute approximation of the very real anger she’d felt only seconds ago, filtered out now that she’s opened herself up like a puppet sliced across the stomach, belly stuffing spilling out of her seams. “so… go ahead and talk to charlene if you think you’ll have something better with her. but honestly, i don’t think you’re gonna. i’ll be very fucking surprised if you find someone who likes you more than i like you, because… jesus, this is fucking terrifying.” and embarrassing. but maybe all vulnerability is messy and a little humiliating when you’re asking somebody to see you, warts and all, and still want to stick around. yanking her hands back, she throws her gloves down, fingers pushing up into her hair and wicking it back from the sweat of her forehead. it’s mostly caused by the boxing. “i like you a lot, okay? like a fucking lot, miles. probably more than i should.” unsure of what to do with herself, she throws her shoulders up in a shrug.
miles o'sullivan
their relationship can be a little frankie-centric sometimes, miles waiting on her to choose him, frankie thrown into certain emotional turmoil by callie, miles trying to do things at her pace, not wanting to scare her, wanting this to work. it makes sense : she's kind of the main character, been the center of his entire villa experience in the way that he hasn't been for her – at least not yet, he thinks. if this were a movie, miles is way more of a fun best friend than a leading man type, and sometimes it seems a little surreal that he and frankie have had it this good, probably the kind of girl he'd have an earth-shattering date with only for her to never call him back. but there's something different about frankie that elevates her above that kind of pipe dream, an easy flow to their conversations, a natural energy to their closeness that he can feel now, even when she's fucking furious at him. it's hard not to pull her close by the waist and kiss the hell out of her. he's sure that she'd text him back. "fucking hell, frankie, i thought – i mean, i thought that it was obvious that i wanted you, from the start. it's always been you for me, but..." it hasn't always been me for you, is what he doesn't say. their faces are close, nearly touching, and it's hard to form a good argument with all of this pent-up energy and radiating body heat. "i don't know, i didn't want to rush into anything too soon or, christ, frankie, it's not about better." because obviously charlene is very different, probably couldn't be more different than frankie, but it seems cruel to compare them, to say one could be any better than the other when he's known these people about a week.
though he can't help but smile at the way she puts it, like it's a fucking competition and she's already got everyone else beat. truth is, she's probably right. all she has to say is that she wants him, that she likes him a lot, and it's inevitable that he's going to bend. "frankie," he grabs her by the shoulders lightly, "it's not just you, okay? you are not the only person that finds this scary." they're looking for love on a tv show, and god, despite all the complicated ex-girl shit, this is the first time miles has felt like he could actually lose her – when it'd be his fault. he swallows thickly and his head feels fuzzy, desperate, a little drunk on being this close to her with their emotions running so high. they're both clearly not people that dive into their feelings very often, probably for different reasons, but the impact is similar. "i like you, too, frankie. and . . . yeah, you know i want this to work. just this place can be fucking weird and confusing. but i more than want this to work, frankie, i do want you," he says with stern sincerity. "more than you should?" miles pauses, "feels like i should be insulted by that, by the way."
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lilith-of-rivia · 3 years ago
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Chapter 1: The Meeting
Summary: Ina of Cintra the Lioness's firstborn daughter has been a well-kept secret. her title as princess never leaving the castle walls, her abilities, abnormalities not being uttered without the blessing of the queen. She has her entire life planned and guided so she doesn't break the Crown's rules. She has been an outstanding model of good behavior, that's until she meets a certain witcher.
Word Count: 3.6K
Warnings: Blood and gore, swearing, mentions of death
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I
“Ma’am…” Knock, knock, knock. I had heard whoever it was coming to wake me up before they even got to my door.
“Yes?” I heard them hold their breath, they weren’t expecting me to be awake.
“Uh-uh yes ma’am, Druk is outside. He has sent for you.”
“Yes thank you. I’m awake.” I said as I rose from my bed. Folding at the hips my fingers gazed at the floor as I yawned in a stretch. My spins cracked along with my shoulders.
“Yes of course ma’am” There were no footsteps and the heartbeat was still there outside the door.
“You may leave now.”
“Right right, yes ma’am.” Scurried light footsteps filled the empty hall as they left.
With a heavy sigh, I contemplated the day I had ahead of myself. Mornings with Druk were never different. The day was was one full day of drills, day two was one different full day of drills than to day three, four, five, then repeat next week. Druk wasn’t like other witchers I had met. He wasn’t focused on the coin or glory. Maybe it’s because he saw his brothers and mentors be slaughtered when his Keep fell.
“Knock knock.” My eyes snapped to the door of my room, dragging attention away from the gauntlet on my. My mother stood at the door. She was still in her sleep clothes, a wool robe hugged her body as she smiled softly at me from the door.
“Morning mother,” I said looking back at my gauntlet, huffing in frustration as I struggled to get them tied.
Wordlessly my mother walked across the room, grabbing my arm as she sat in the chair across from the one I was in. her fingers delicately tied the strings tightly, the gauntlets tightening around my wrists. Once finished, she softly held one of my hands, her face was cold, stoic as always. But once she looked me in the eyes I saw the fear.
“You know, don’t you…” I nodded my head. Looking out the window of my room, breaking eye contact. I stood up walking from her to the armored cabinet in my room. I grabbed my two swords from their hooks looking over them and assessing their sharpness.
“I heard you and the court talking last night. Many in this castle forget I have super hearing.” I heard her sigh heavily, shakily.
“I’m so sorry, Ina…” I turned to her. Her gaze was on the floor, her chest rising and falling fast.
“Mum...don’t cry…” I crouched down by her side, my hands going to hers squeezing them. She looked back at me, one hand cupping my face. Her thumb softly brushed over the scar on my left cheek.
“I’m so sorry I brought you into this world...Into this life...I wish I had known your life would be so painful…” I leaned into her warm hand, my eyes closing as she spoke.
“Stop blaming yourself...everything happens for a reason...and no matter what happens after the meeting today...I will always love you.” Her hand moved from my face to my neck. She pulled me into her chest, hugging me tightly.
“I’m so sorry.” Hse sobbed into my hair, rocking us back and forth. I said nothing, just kept my arms around her, holding her while she sobbed. Her tears wetting the spot she laid on my shoulder.
“Don’t be…”
II
“You know princess, I do not normally wait. You are lucky the gold and wine your mother gives is so good.” Druk’s voice was below a whisper as we snuck through the damp dark woods. My hands felt the tree bark under us as we slowly tipped around the fallen trees, as to make as little noise as possible. Funny with Druk’s big mouth.
“My mother is very worried about the meeting tonight,” I whispered back, following him as he weaved in and around the thickly wooded forest. We were hot on the trails of a stray kikimore that had been terrorizing a southern village. Druk and I were sent to take care of it.
“Are you worried?” Druk asked, pausing to look back at me.
I stopped too for a moment, thinking about his question.
My eyes searched the forest around us while we sat in silence. The forest was no longer lush and green. Late Saovine meant the world was cold, covered in ice and snow. Nothing was awake. All the animals were in hibernation, birds had flown south for the winter. The only things still awake were the monsters.
“No. I’m not. Should I be?” Druk looks away from me, his amber eyes searching the forest around us.
“Tonight is the night a pannel of witchers, mages, and the royal court you belong to decide if you go through the trials...maybe a little of fear. It would be healthy.” I smirked and rolled my eyes.
“Fear isn’t necessary for my vocabulary.” Druk laughed softly, his head nodding as he looked me in the eyes again.
“Then don’t be afraid. Fuck em all. If any woman could survive the trials it’s you.” Once finished with his small sentiment, a cheesy grin spread across his face. He nodded his head in the direction of the kikimore and we both rook off after it again.
Our feet lept, ran, jumped, and sprinted across the fallen trees and rocks throughout the forest. The snow-covered ground would cause too much noise. Druk had gone to the Witcher school of the cat. He prides himself on his ability to remain stealthy and quiet, all while being just as lethal as witchers from other schools. He taught me to only put my feet on the ground when it really mattered. You’re much easier to be tracked and killed when you travel foot to the ground. But foot to a tree to rock is a different story.
Jumping from a rock onto a tree we scaled the side till we were above the tree line. Out heads stuck up and out of the dead branches. Our chests rising and falling heavily as we looked around, noses sniffing out the location of the kikimore. The high point giving us the advantage. Druk’s yellow eyes scanned the trees below while I sniffed the wind. He had better eyes than I. his mutations to thank for that. The wind blew softly and the thick smell of iron and rotting corpses seeped into my nostrils and filled my head.
“To the east,” I said quietly. Druk adjusted his direction eyes grazing the land elbow us. A small smirk graced his lips, he found it.
“It about four hundred yards northeast. Common princess no time to waste.” We quickly scaled our way down the tree till our feet were steady on the branches. He wasn’t wrong, we were already out way longer than we were intending. Meaning we were going to be late for the meeting.
Druk took the lead. His hand holding the hilt of his silver swords. His other hand out in front of him, his fingers gleaming with a soft blue tint. Aard was spoken in elder inaudible to the average human. He was prepared to blast the kikemore to give me more time to ambush it. Druk only ever took the lead, then he’d stand back and watch. He’d teach me a new skill by charging whatever beast. Whether it was a new sign manipulation, a new combat skill, or hell even how he wields his sword. He started, I’d then follow and clean up.
“Ready Ina?” There was a soft pop and a cork fell onto the ground below us with a soft thud. His head fell back the liquid pouring down his throat. He grimaced slightly before turning to me, his eyes were black as night, now white to be seen. The veins on his neck, face, and hands were dark black and bulging. The potion was vital for witchers, giving them heightened senses, and skills. Allowing their powers to increase.
“So fucking ready,” I said, a smile gracing my lips. He returned the smile, his more sinister with the help of his eyes.
My sword was in hand. The silver catching the few rays of sun peeking through the clouds above. We both moved silently through the brush. Out feet feather-light against the snow. We moved fast, never keeping pressure on one spot too long to not break the crust of the snow. Druk made it to the clearing first. The Kikimore was alerted to us as soon as we reached its small nest.
Druk’s hand thrust out in front of himself, a huge ball of blue light smacked into the kikimore, throwing it back and hard into the tree. Druk sheathed his sword and ducked behind me. The kikimore shook its head before it made eye contact with me. I crouched lower to the ground, eyeing the beast. It slowly started to move to its left, so I mimicked it. We slowly began circling one another. The Kikimore’s large gray limbs stabbed into the ground with every step. Its gross snarly face, red beady eyes looking me over, studying my every move. The only issue was I knew where and how it would be.
The kikimore pounced, its legs kicking up dirt as it tore after me. The short distance between us was gone in no time. I lunged out of the way. Diving and rolling away from the clumsy beast. I was much smaller, giving me an advantage.
“My my what an ugly fucker you are.” I mocked. The beast turned to me again, and let out a low grumbly growl. I was moving closer to its nest. I could smell the rotting bodies even worse as I moved slowly. My eyes never leaving the kikimore.
It charged again. I slashed my sword through the air, spinning around, splicing my sword up in the air. The kikimore squealed and screamed as its leg fell from its body. Spinning on my heels my sword slashed through the air again, making contact with its neck. The sword slashed through the beast’s thick, fat neck like butter. The screams stopped, the kikimore’s body falling limp on the ground, blood-spewing, and pooling on the ground and around my boots. I sighed heavily, a smile gracing my lips again as I whipped the dark black blood from my blade before sliding back into its sheath on my back.
Clap, clap, clap. “Very well done princess!! A full-grown warrior kikimore down in two strikes, no potions or magic!” Druk had a smile ear to ear, his potion still in effect. Seeing a laughing, happy smiling witcher with pure black eyes was a sight to see.
“Only as good as my mentor my dear friend,” I said with a laugh. Crouching to the ground, my hand gathering the small tuft of hair atop the kikimore’s head and lifted it so it was eye level with me. Blood dripped from its mouth, nose, and eyes. Its dark purple tongue hung out of its mangled mouth.
“Add another one to my list.”
III
“Common hurry Druk!!” I yelled through the rain as we ran up the cobblestone road towards the castle. The kikimore’s head swung over my shoulder. “We are already late they will have my head!!” Druk ran from the stables after me, quickly catching up with me right as I neared the doors.
The two guards opened them for us as we walked through. I breathed heavily, my lips blue as my teeth chattered. Despite my many abnormal traits I still got just as cold as the average human. The rain had come out of nowhere. The two of us speed walk down the corridor, our muddy boots squeaking against the marble floors as we got closer to the royal library. A place I’d only ever been when I was being threatened by the crown’s court. The doors appeared ahead of us as we both halted before we could be close enough to be heard. The floor below us was wet as we dripped head to toe.
Glancing at Druk I gulped, now that I was about to walk into the room, I was more than terrified. The prospect of the trials was so much closer than they had ever been my entire life. Druks hand went to my shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“You’ve got this.” He whispered, before giving me a soft push towards the door. I took a deep breath before shoving the door open, swallowing the fear and placing the stoic look of my mother back on my face.
The voices in the room stopped when I walked in. my boots stopping heavily on the floor. My eyes glanced around the room, everyone there were people I have known for many years. My mother stood in the center of the room by her throne, my sister who was not supposed to be here was next to her. They looked scared.
“Sorry, I’m late, had a prior arrangement.” I heaved the beast’s head over my shoulder and threw it on the floor. It flopped down and rolled a little its tongue falling out as its cold dead eyes stared up at Gadri, a member of the Crowns Court. His face scrunched in disgusts before he kicked it away from his shoes.
“You are nearly three hours late, Ina.” I rolled my eyes my attention going back to my mother and sister.
“What is she doing here?” I asked pointing to my sister.
“We think it’s important that the future queen gets to help make choices regarding her subjects.” Hazzez, a plump fat little man with a bald shiny head and large white mustache and beard said standing from his seat.
I huffed, the corner of my lip pulling into a sly smirk as I shook my head. Water falling on the floor.
“Yes, the future queen who passes her sister even tho her sister is the senior. Yes, and my sister needs to be in control of whether I will be subjected to the trials and if I’ll die or not.” Druks witcher attitude tended to rub off on me. Witchers are trained, to be honest, overly honest. Blunt and rude is what many present them as.
“Ina. enough.” my mother said sternly, her jaw tightening. I bite my tongue nodding my head. My fingers pulled at the buttons of my jacket, throwing it on the floor in a wet pile. The room was cold, making the wet clothes on my body send shivers down my spine.
I glanced around the room, eyeing the other members of the Crown’s Court. And then the other few people who were in the room. Tissaia, a mage from Aretuza smiled at me fondly as we made eye contact.
“Hello, princess, my how you’ve grown.” Her voice filled the empty room. I smiled back at her.
“Tissaia-” I bowed my head to her softly, “yes, it’s been a while hasn’t it? What 15 years?”
“17 years.” my mother chimed in behind me.
“Whos the mystery man next to you?” I asked her, she glanced over at the witcher who was perched next to her. Druk was seated next to him.
“Well get to that in a second. Please sit down.” Hazzez said, gesturing to a lone isolated chare in the middle of the room.
It was as if I was on trial, for simply being born.
IV
“Druk how has she been doing?” My mother asked, her eyes glaring daggers at the five men who were attempting to discredit the years of work and training I had done with Druk.
Durk rose from his seat next to the other witcher, a bored look on his face. “She is exceptional. Not only her physical talents in combat and swords but her book knowledge. I’ve trained three other witchers before her, and none of them come close to the skills she posses. She is a skilled alchemist, a skilled swordsman, she is skilled in nearly every talent she tries. I would trust her in a battle to have my back any day. It has been an honor training her for 15 years, your highness.” I smiled at him, a smirk covering his lips.
“With all due respect your highness we are not interested in what the witcher from a failed school has to say. The witcher to his right has been watching her and keeping track of her success. That’s who we care about.”
Before the witcher could address them, Tissaia stood up. “What is the problem here gentlemen. On her fifth birthday, you all made this a rule. You said her abnormalities would only ever benefit her if she was trained as an assassin or a witcher. She has been trained for 17 years by a witcher, as a witcher. She has proven time and time again she doesn’t need the trials and mutations to be as skilled as a witcher.”
“Thank you, Tissaia, but need I remind you that you are only here to as a stand-in for the mage in your court who can still perform the mutations. Please sit down and be quiet.” My mother shot Tissaia a look, making her shut her mouth and sit down. The witcher next to Druk stood up.
“I have been following her and her trainer. For months now. Even just today I followed them while they killed the stray Kikimore. She killed the Kikimore with two strikes something many of my boys have struggled with as fully mutated and trained witchers. She without a doubt has a talent and a heart of the witcher.” I heard my mother’s breath catch in her throat as she held my sister’s hand. My sister was stating at me, had been since I sat down. Her face was painfully still, her throat tight as she breathed heavily. She looked scared, so did my mother.
“Tissaia, you will take Ina to Kear Morhen. Along with the mages in your court. The mutations will be done by the end of the week.” My throat ran dry. Hazzez kept talking but my brain tuned him out. None of us thought they would go through with this. The chances of me surviving the trials and the mutations were nearly impossible. Less than 20% of the boys who face the trials died. And the mutations are designed for male genetics, not females. I was never supposed to be mutated, just trained.
“Hazzez you piece of shit!!” My mother screamed as she stood from her chair. Her hand reached for the dagger she kept strapped to her thigh.
Her hand came down quickly with the shinny dagger, flying towards Hazzez face. My hands quickly caught her arms and I pushed her back. Knowing if she killed one of her court members over me I would surely be sent away and killed, no chance of survival.
“Mother mother please stop it please,” I screamed into her red, tear-stained face as she attempted to fight me off. Her chest rose and fell heavily. She hissed through her gritted teeth, she was probably breaking teeth.
“Queen Calanthe-” Hazzez spoke. I turned to look at him, my back to my mother. Her dagger is in my hand. I threw it to the floor, kicking it away. “Do not forget the sympathy the crown, and your father gave you for your bastard daughter. She should have been killed out of the womb. But your father cared too much for you. Count your blessing that you got 20 years with her, and at least she will die with a little bit of dignity.” Hazzez stood up to leave, the four men ready to follow him, they gathered their belongings.
“Gentlemen.” My mother said, her voice harsh and cold like the wind outside. Her brows set in a low glair as she looked them up and down. “I am still your queen, you do not get to control everything. It’s clear you’ve made your choice, but when it happens. That is my choice. She is my daughter. I choose when she goes with the witcher. I do not know when that will be but it will be after her sister’s betrothal. If you have an issue with that, find a new court to control.” the five men looked at her, then each other before nodding and walking out of the room silently.
My mother’s hands held my arms as she dragged me into her chest. My sister came up to us both, her hands wrapping around both my mother and me I. her head resting on my shoulder. Wrapping one arm around her and one around my mother, I let my fear fall. My fear came out in silent sobs. My shoulders shook, my eyes clouding as I stared at the wall behind my sister. The tears pooled down my face.
My mother pulled back, one hand on each of my cheeks, her fingers brushing my tears away.
“You will be the first female witcher to ever be. You will make history.” my shoulders started to shake more violently as I cried more. The impending end of my life is on the horizon. My mother’s denial was just to help her cope, but we both knew how it would end.
“Mum...we both know what will happen to me...I won’t survive it.” my voice was broken as I spoke caving as I cried. Her fingers moved faster to wipe my tears as she shushed me. My sister’s hands are on my arms and back.
“Even if that’s the case, it won’t be for at least another month. Live your life for the next month the way you want to, no regrets,-”
“No hesitations.” I interrupted her, a small smile tugging at my lips. Her eyes softened at me. She leaned in placing a soft kiss on my forehead.
“You can do this Ina. You are the Lioness Cub. If anyone can do it, it’s you.”
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nctsworld · 4 years ago
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what you do to me
✩ yangyang x reader | fluff | friends to lovers | 1.1k 
SUMMARY ⇾ when you come over to check-up on a sick yangyang, he confesses his feelings for you. WARNINGS ⇾ swearing; usage, mentions, and jokes of prescription drugs and medicine; mentions of drinking, dejun is irresponsible and gives too many meds to yangyang RATING ⇾ teen+ TAGLIST ⇾ @infnteen​​ REQ BY ⇾ anonymous (informally) PROMPT ⇾ friends to lovers + yangyang is sick and clingy
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Gently opening the bedroom door open, you’re greeted by the sight of Yangyang bundled up under the covers beside his mountain of stuffed animals. He raises his head slightly from the pillow, blinking hazily with a goofy smile towards your direction.
“My lovely, awesome friends,” he says, voice grating. You cock an eyebrow at his unusual acknowledgement. “Hellooooo.”
Dejun, right on your heels, speaks up while he leans onto the door frame with folded arms. “He’s high as a kite.”
“Oh my, God,” you gasp, quickly sprinting towards your friend’s side and sitting on the side of his bed. “What did you give him?!”
Placing the back of your hand onto his perspired forehead, a heat, blatantly higher than normal, emits from his body. Yangyang’s smile widens at your close proximity. He’s muttering jumbles of words and most of them are indistinguishable.
His roommate shrugs. “Some NyQuil, some Benadryl, some—”
“Jesus Christ, you drugged him up,” you half-joke, shaking your head in disbelief. You can’t recall ever seeing Yangyang like this, even when he drank his head off. This Yangyang was an absolute goner.  
“He was whining about the fever and shit and I was freaking the fuck out, so I thought it’d be best to just give him a little bit of everything.”
“I pray to God you don’t have children one day, Jun.” After ordering him to bring you a bowl of cold water along with a rag, you say, “Leave this crime scene before you make him any worse.”
“He’s fine,” Dejun disputes, waving a hand. “Look how happy he is!”
You turn your head from your bed-ridden patient. Steeling your jaw with eyes full of wrath, Dejun leaves without another word.
“You didn’t have to come over, you know,” Yangyang mumbles. His voice pulls your attention back to him and you beam warmly, dragging the bowl closer to you and dunking the cloth.    
“Yeah, well, Ten’s busy, Kun’s working, and”—you jut your head towards the ajar door—”I don’t trust Dejun to properly watch over you!”
“Hey!” is faintly heard in the next room over and you stifle a snicker. The goofy smile is still attached to Yangyang’s face, except now, he tilts his head. Although his sight is cloudy, he’s completely laser-focused on you.
He moves his hand and lays it over your knee, rubbing you fondly with his thumb.
“You’re amazing.”  
You laugh at the excess tenderness in his putty-like voice and how touchy he’s being. Drunk Yangyang doesn’t touch Drugged Up Yangyang with a ten foot pole. You won’t admit it aloud, but you definitely don’t hate it one bit.
“And you’re drunk on medicine.”
You pull the rag out of the water and squeeze it above the bowl. There’s a beat as Yangyang’s gaze flickers, his inhibitions lost within this state of mind.   
“You know that I love you, right?” he asks, continuing to draw small circles in your skin.
“Yeah, yeah,” you reply absentmindedly.  
“No, I mean it,” your friend continues firmly, pouting cutely. “I’m in love with you.”
“Yeah, I know, I know—” Suddenly, you stop squeezing the rag and swivel your head. “Wait, what?”
However, Yangyang’s eyes are closed as he shudders under the sheets. You finish ridding of the excess water and carefully press the cool rag against his forehead. His face constricts at the immediate sensation.
“Shit, that’s fucking cold.”
Frowning at his discomfort, you attempt to ease him by swiping the stray hairs away from his sticky forehead. 
Whispering, you say, “It’s good to cool your fever down.”
Neither of you bring up what he just said moments ago, so you continue to hold the rag against other parts of his body in silence, including under his shirt and over his stomach. He seethes quietly, but his hand has moved from your knee and onto your arm. You melt into his touch, sinking deep in the unspoken intimacy. 
Once you drop the cloth back into the cold water, you hurry in a shuffle towards the door and shut it, wanting to nip the bud of this situation while he’s still awake. 
“Did you really just say that you’re in love with me, or am I crazy, Yangyang?” you puzzle in a whisper, back by his side. 
He gives his best attempt at a nod.
“And you’re telling me the truth? Not pulling my leg?” 
Another nod. 
“Then why did it take for you to be sick and drunk on, like, a billion meds to tell me?!” you scold softly. 
He chuckles weakly. “God, if I didn’t feel like shit, I’d kiss you to shut you up right now.”
He doesn’t need to though—the thought of him kissing you shocks you enough to clamp your mouth shut. Sparks burst under your cheeks as your gaze falls on his lips—albeit dry, but nevertheless still kissable. You exhale slowly through your nose and realize you shouldn’t delve further into this conversation when he’s disoriented.
“I’ll leave you to rest,” you say, standing up from the mattress. “But when you’re feeling better, we’ll talk more about this.”
You make your way towards the door when he calls your name.
“Wait.” He groans. You turn your head to look over your shoulder.
“Do you love me back?”
Your eyes burgeon at the question, then your lips fall inward, unsure of what you should say. In the end, you opt for honesty and hope Yangyang is sober enough to remember all of this when he wakes up next.
You’re quickly back by his side, except this time, you lean down and plant a kiss at the top of his head.  
“Of course, you cute idiot.”
The goofy smile shines once more. “You think I’m cute?”
“More so an idiot,” you joke. “But yeah, I guess you’re... sickeningly cute.”
Yangyang giggles at your pun and at you ruffling his hair.
“I’m so going to kiss you when I’m better.”
Puckering your mouth to one side, it takes all of your might to kiss his cheek instead of his infectious lips before you finally walk out of the room to let him rest.
“So, you gonna thank me?” Dejun asks, sitting on the living room couch and scrolling through his phone.  
“For what?” You plop onto the other end of the couch.  
“For Yangyang finally confessing to you.”
You face him with a hanging jaw, appalled, but not surprised, that he eavesdropped on everything. “I mean, if I didn’t give him all those meds—”
“Nu-uh,” you cut him off, holding a hand out. “You’re not getting any credit for this. Not in a million years.”
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The next day, Yangyang feels immensely better and you two do end up talking. A lot.  
But not before you two make out on his bed.
Unfortunately, but not shockingly, you become sick about a week or so later.
And of course, Yangyang takes the liberty to take care of you as you did for him. He endlessly apologizes for spreading it to you and showers you with all the love that he can give, making up for the lost time. 
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stoneworldsimp · 4 years ago
Text
the dying poet
senku x reader
warnings: angst, mentions of food/water deprivation, swearing
day seven.
fuck, fuck, FUCK!
it felt like you had been running for hours, trying to shake this wild animal off. you made sharp turns behind large bushes in hopes of losing it, you’d hold as still as possible behind large roots on the ground, but the animal kept finding you in one way or another.
“please go away,”you panted. “c’mon. you’ve been chasing me fucking forever, can’t you just give up?!”
you were tired; your legs were about to buckle in on themselves. dinner one night was suddenly ruined when you realized the fucker was watching you eat. in the beginning you thought it was only after your food, not you; you threw a random ration away from your camp in hopes to get it away from you. in hindsight, it only worked until you fell asleep.
you were lucky to wake up the next morning alive; your set up had been ripped to shreds, and footprints were on the ground around your body. it was painstakingly slow and nerve wracking to escape your position, but once you had everything you absolutely needed, you booked it.
sprinting for miles after miles proved to be very difficult for quite some time now.
the phone...it’s weighing me down. my bag of food isn’t even half as heavy as the phone.
looking down at the call button in your hand, you thought about tossing the phone. maybe i can fix it.. no, i don’t have any tools, the fucking animal chewed on them like dog bones. is there any way to put the wire back together...?
“FUCK my life!”
you took the phone off your back and threw it to you left, careful not to trip yourself in the process. immediately, you and your body felt the difference. with your new found energy, the run away was becoming easier, and helped you see a large cave just over the horizon. using the last of your energy, you took as large of steps as you can, and practically threw your body into the cave. the animal’s footsteps were nowhere to be heard, but you figured you didn’t want to take any chances and look behind you. you were finally breaking free from being chased, just a little deeper into this cave, and if i can find specific markings then i can backtrack—
a deep, loud rumble took you away from your thoughts. in no time, you were engulfed in dust and thick particles you didn’t know of.
the caved had closed in.
day one.
“i can do it.”
“are you sure? its a pretty perilous trip—“
“you should at least bring one other person with you—“
you sighed, exasperated that you had to defend your case once again. it had been days since the decision was made; you were going to make a trip to another part of the island in hopes to find extremely specific materials for one of senku’s projects... and it was far, far away.
quite frankly, you were the only one fit for the adventure. you were known to travel well on foot, had an exceptional sense of direction and you had a good eye for natural elements, as well as food; you also were unintentionally the least helpful when staying in the village. you didn’t have the crafting skills to successfully make glass or metal components for his experiments, and you never trusted your brain when helping senku with calculations and blueprints.
hearing senku and gen talk about this long trip to another part of the island was almost a dream come true. it was perfect for someone with your skillset, and kept you from being in the way of everybody else.
“it’ll be fine. c’mon, you guys have SOME faith in our traveler, right?”
you turned around, a smile on your face as you caught senku walking out of his lab. thank you, you mouthed.
once senku reached you and the group of villagers crowding near you, he spoke up again. “this trip is a straight shot from the bridge, the only problem would be that it’s going to take some time. possibly a month just to get there. but you,” he turned to face you,”have excellent outdoorsy-type skills that will make it really easy for you to spot what we need right away. everyone needs to stop worrying, because you’ll be there and back in no time. two months will pass like nothing.”
as the rest of the group walked away, mumbling their skepticisms, senku took your hand and tugged you back to the lab.
“what’re you taking me here for? oh wait,”you planted your feet at the front of the lab curtains, keeping the both of you from entering. “are you making me help you with your math again? because—”
“no, you’re pretty terrible at calculations,”he replied. “i have something for you.”
you puffed out your cheeks in embarrassment, but your expression completely changed once the curtain was opened.
on the table, there was a telephone. if was the size of a backpack, but it still had a speaker, a microphone, and a call button.
“i made it for you to take on the trip, in case you have any emergencies. i fully trust you in your own survival skills, but you never know if something extreme happens.”
you gave his hand a squeeze before letting go. as you walked closer to the table, you touched the outer fabric. you turned back to senku. “thank you.”
“you don’t have to thank me. i’m only making something that’s essential to your travels.”
“even still,” you trailed off. “i appreciate it.”
you turned back around and beamed at senku. “i’m not going to call you until i get there. i want to make sure that no enemies try to tail me if they hear me, as much as i’d want to give in right away and hear your voice. something like that...”
“how corny.” senku smiled and pulled you close while you laughed. you jumped a bit when his hands made their way around your waist.
“a bit touchy today,” you asked, grabbing hold of his shoulders. “but i’m not complaining.”
“i’m stockpiling the feeling of you for the weeks to come. we’ve never spent this much time apart before; it’s only logical.”
“i guess you’re right.”
he kissed you, multiple times; each one was deeper than the last.
day eleven.
he brought me a flower every morning, because i always slept in later than him. he’d wake up at the asscrack of dawn, just to have more time to jot ideas down. i used to try and pull him back to sleep with me, but he was so overflowing with plans, i didn’t want to stop him.
you turned on your side.
i remember he went to explore with chrome really early one morning, and apparently they found some huge meadow with a bunch of plants. ever since then, he would bring me a different kind; it was always a single flower, too. they were different colors and shapes, and some were enormous and some were smaller than my finger. he never woke me up for it, though. he would just leave it for me when i woke up on my own. it was always a surprise, almost startling when i’d open my eyes. it was my own pick-me-up for the day, in a sense.. no matter what happened the night before, waking up to a new type of flower would put me in a good mood every time. it was better than a coffee in the morning.
i wonder if he’s looking at the flowers with chrome everyday while i’m gone. man, i still wake up hoping to see a new one in front of me.
sure, reminiscing was fun and felt good, but what’s the point? you had eaten all of your food approximately two days ago, you only had about a teaspoon of water left, and there was no getting out of there. the way you came in had been covered in a dam of rocks. you couldn’t even dig yourself out.
you furiously wiped the tears that fell from your eyes. “senku...why did i think i could go alone?”
day fifteen.
poke, poke—
something was touching you. no, someone was touching you. your head bobbed side to side, in an attempt to shake them off.
damn, that’s persistent.
opening your eyes, you woke up to senku smiling. he was knelt beside your form. “wake up, sleeping beauty! it’s been almost three hours.”
it’s only been three hours?!
you sat up way too fast, and felt lightheaded as you tried to ask,”but...why didn’t you.. wake me up earlier? did everybody...did everyone eat already?”
he laughed. “yeah, sorry. we all thought you were out doing something with chrome. but,” he turned around, to grab something behind him,”i saved some in case you got hungry when you came back.”
you took the food in a dizzy haze. was it even food? you didn’t care too much, it felt like you hadn’t eaten for a long time. any food at this point was good food.
you couldn’t even swallow the first bite. “do you- is there..any water?”
“what?” senku pulled away from you, a look of disbelief painted across his face. it was clear as day.
you hesitated, feeling more lightheaded than before. “w- water?”
“don’t you remember?” he asked. he turned away from you. “there hasn’t been any water in days.”
it’s been days.
your body jolted from its spot, and harsh reality hit you square in the face.
yes, right. you shakily rubbed your eyes to make sure they weren’t cemented shut.
in the cave, finished your food, no water to be found. making yourself walk around was no use, either; without the fuel, your body was essentially just a trembling mess.
you scowled at yourself; unsure of what to do, what to even think.
day eighteen.
you remembered how he kissed you. the first kisses the most; you always had to tell him to not look so terrified. you also had to remind him to not stand like a statue when you kissed. pretty soon, after some reassurance, he got comfortable. there was nothing but confidence in the way he caressed your face in his hands. usually he was the one to pull away; you were so mesmerized, it felt as if the world completely stopped.
they were always quick and out of the way in public. usually, it was on your forehead or your one of your cheeks. the deep kisses you felt when you two were alone were incomparable. soft lips remained on yours for what felt like centuries. he tasted sweet, in his own way—
wait, who?
you licked your lips slowly, trying to think.
it was no use; you couldn’t even remember what he looked like. you lolled your head to the side and stared at the outline of a rock a couple of feet away.
once i get out of here, i’ll kiss him. whoever it was. it won’t matter if it’s just us, or more people. i’ll kiss him forever.
maybe if i go to sleep.. i can see him again.
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nalu4emily · 3 years ago
Text
Time To Heal
Summary:  'It was a marathon, not a sprint and with each day he spent with her, pretending to act like his normal self, the more he hoped she'd begin to loosen—only time would tell.' What can Natsu do to heal her aching heart? Especially when she's reluctant to tell him what happened. 
NALU friendship/ hurt/ comfort. 
Please be aware of the trigger warning. Do not read unless 18+. Contains sensitive content.
She was crying again; that much was certain. The sound of sniffles and wet droplets cascading down her cheeks, splattering across the desk she so often sat at, echoed deep into his ears. Her whimpers pulled at him the most. She tried so hard to keep them locked away, to defy her true feelings, but they managed to seep through every time.
It hurt him, to know that she was suffering so painfully, so inconsolably, and there was simply nothing he could do to stop it. He'd waited for her; to speak; to tell him what'd really happened that night, and relieve herself of the burden that weighed so heavily on her shoulders.
It haunted her every waking moment; he knew that. Even at night, she'd rouse so suddenly, coated in sweat, shivering, and desperate for his warm touch. It seemed to be the only thing that could soothe her frantic heart, especially when the tears started. Her behaviour wasn't all that different during the day either and Natsu had nearly given up hope that she'd ever tell him, making the guilt he felt for not being there all the more consuming.
The state he'd found her in the next morning, bloodied, clothes torn and completely broken, tormented his thoughts daily, and the way he'd reacted to it, even more so. Through the despair and anger at finding her so badly hurt, he'd raged through the streets of Magnolia, hunting down the bastard he could smell all over her apartment.
It wasn't hard to dissect what'd happened to her, the slayer just wasn't sure how far it'd gone. He'd learnt quickly not to ask questions though or risk losing her trust entirely. It was a marathon, not a sprint and with each day he spent with her, pretending to act like his normal self, the more he hoped she'd begin to loosen—only time would tell.
Having procrastinated long enough, the young mage jumped up to her window, and let himself in like always. Plastering the biggest smile he could muster onto his face, he greeted the girl hunched over her desk, right where he knew she'd be and tried to remain positive in such a ghastly situation.
"O-Oh, uh… Hi, Natsu! I didn't see you there." Her eyes locked onto his for barely a moment before turning away, wiping her cheeks to rid them of their wetness with her used, snot-laden tissue. She turned around to face him, her gaze never quite meeting his as a small, weak smile graced her lips, "Where's Happy?"
"Probably eating a fish somewhere… Or at the guild giving it to Carla, you know what he's like." He shrugged, his expression remained light and cheery, while his narrowed pupils latched onto her every movement, much like a predator stalking its prey, "I thought I'd come over and see if ya felt up to going on a mission soon. I snagged some pretty good ones for you to take a look at, if you're interested?"
"Sure… that sounds like fun. W-Why don't I make us some lunch? Then we can pick out a good one together." Lucy hopped up from her chair all too eagerly, desperate to remove herself from his watchful gaze.
She was avoiding him; but that was hardly new. He knew the reason why—the unshed tears in her eyes evidence of that, not that he cared what she looked like. She did it for a matter of pride, wanting him to see only the Lucy he knew so well, and not the damaged one she’d become. He, as much as anyone, wanted to see that smile light up her face once more, the brilliant one that shined as bright as the stars she wielded; what he wouldn’t give to see that again…
Gathering the request papers in his hand, he followed her into the kitchen and leaned himself up against the doorway, smiling as he watched her get to work, “Hey Luce, this one looks kinda good. I think we should definitely consider it.” But she didn’t answer, nor even look at him. If it weren’t for their close proximity, he would have assumed she hadn’t heard him. “Lucy, did you hear me?”
She remained silent, instead her body began to tremble, her face wet with tears once again and her hands drawn to cover them on instinct.
“Luce, I didn’t hear you.” He cautiously walked over to her shaking form, carefully reaching out to place his hand on her shoulder, while the other drew her body in and held her tight, “Lucy...”
"I...I-I can't do this any more…" The blonde spoke quietly, removing her hands from her face and placing them onto his chest.
"What do you mean?" He asked, his voice gentle as if speaking to a spooked animal.
"This." She gestured to the two of them, "Pretend, Natsu. I-I'm tired of pretending like everything's fine, when it's so obviously not." She felt his hand clasp at her cheek, wiping the tear droplets away with his thumb. His familiar warmth soothed her aching heart as she leaned into it, finding comfort there that only he could provide. "I-I'm sorry. You must be so sick of seeing me cry all the time!"
The tears flowed freely now, pulling at his heart strings as well as his own unshed tears, but he would never so selfishly let them show. He cradled her closely, wanting nothing more than for her to feel safe in that moment, like he would protect her from everything, should she so wish. It was the first time Lucy had addressed the very unfortunate situation they found themselves in, and he wasn’t about to ruin it all now by letting his own emotions take over.
She tucked herself into the crook of his neck and breathed in his familiar scent, calming her nerves as she relaxed into him. This is the way they'd always worked, one picking the other up in their time of need and carrying both of their weights should they need to, and Natsu was approaching this no differently.
Once she'd calmed down enough, he picked her up and carried her to her bed, perching them both down on it so that they could get comfortable. She was ready to finally tell him, he could see it in her eyes, and as apprehensive as he was about hearing it, all he needed to do was listen.
"I think you need to tell someone, Lucy. Whether that's me, or someone else, it's not good to keep it all bottled up." He explained, as she pulled away slightly, but not enough to fully let go of him.
"I-I know… It's just hard to relive something you spend every waking moment trying to forget." She sniffled once more, wiping her nose this time on her sleeve. "Can we at least lay back first?" Her voice was so timid and insecure, nothing like the Lucy he knew.
"Sure thing!" He laid himself back against the pillows, kicking his sandals off and placed one arm behind his head while the other was outstretched for her to lean upon. "Come lay here, Luce."
Doing what he said, she cuddled up to his side, laying her hand and cheek against his shoulder and felt his arm encircle her waist, "I… don't really know where to begin… It all seems such a blur, yet I remember every single bit of it."
He kept quiet, caressing his thumb against her hip as a way of encouraging her instead.
She began slowly, starting from where she'd left the guild hall that night, "It was kinda strange I guess… not having you there to walk me home like normal, it never feels right without you around…" She chuckled half-heartedly, before clearing her throat. "I remember walking along the canal when this bad feeling came over me… But, I just put it down to being alone in the dark and kept going.”
She shifted closer to him, subtly indicating that what she was about to say, made her uncomfortable at the very least.
"When I reached the apartment building, I noticed the window was slightly open, even though I knew I’d shut it. I must’ve just thought that you’d come home early from your mission, or something." She fidgeted again, this time her legs began to tangle with his, giving away her anxiety and fear. “It was only once I walked into the room, did my blood run cold. It was dark and empty, and you were no where to be seen. It felt… wrong.”
"You mean they were already in the house?" Natsu asked, feeling himself tense as he looked across the small room, imagining her words play out before him.
"Mm, and by the time I'd reached for my keys, it was too late." She shivered once again, the memories making it hard to concentrate. "H-He came out from behind, shoving me against the wall and pinning my arms above my head." A fresh set of tears began to cascade down her delicate cheeks, her breathing heavier than before and her fingers gripping at his jacket tightly. "I…I remember struggling a lot, trying to kick him away, but it was no use, he was just too strong. I felt so overpowered and small and weak, and all he did was laugh."
Natsu clenched his jaw, realising now that this was about to get a whole lot darker and he could barely keep himself from raging all over again, but he kept himself controlled this time, for Lucy's sake—that was the last thing she needed.
"That's when it started…" She gulped down a large breath, steadying herself as she divulged further, "His hands; his mouth; his… teeth. I-I can still feel them… on me, crawling across my skin."
Natsu's eyes widened, turning to the blonde who refused to look him, and gasped, "He touched you!? Where?" He asked, a little too forcefully in his own shock.
Unable to say with words, she nodded and used her finger to point at the areas on Natsu's body, starting from the top, "Here," she pointed to his mouth and chin. "Then here," she then grazed over his ear and jaw line, and the next one his neck. Her finger ventured down to Natsu's chest and stomach, where she pointed once more, "And then… there," she managed to wrangle out, pointing down towards his upper thigh.
"You mean… that bastard touched you down-"
"He didn't quite get that far. When I stopped struggling, I think he must've lost concentration, because I managed to pull one of my hands free and grab at his crotch."
She felt Natsu tense at that, having anyone grab hold and squeeze them tight was not a pleasant thought, "I hope you squeezed until your hand hurt, Lucy."
"Well, that was the plan… but he slapped me across the face before I could get any real grip and I landed face down on the floor." Jolting upwards, she ran a shaky hand through her hair, removing the blonde tresses away from her clammy forehead. "Sor- Sorry Natsu, the next bit, is where he… It's the bit, I-I struggle with most…"
Feeling alarmed by her reaction, he sat up too. Fearing the worst, he could only hope she wasn't about to tell him what he'd suspected all along, "It's alright, take your time." He reached his hand out to her, thankful she'd taken it and not pushed him away, "What did he do, Lucy?"
Trying to calm the overwhelming anxiety building within her, she swallowed down the longest breath of air, filling her lungs with much needed oxygen, "I remember smacking my head on the floor… A-And then, I felt his weight on top of me…"
Natsu's breath caught in his throat, snapping his head to the part on the floor Lucy had pointed to and could only imagine how frightened she must have been, "Then what, Luce?" He noticed her hesitancy, wishing he didn't have to ask.
"I-I remember his hand on the back of my head, holding me down, while his other hand lifted up my skirt. He was laughing at me, even as he slid down my underwear." She huddled herself back into a ball by the window, wiping continuously at her red and irritated eyes, "It was then that I realised that my struggle was in vain, that no matter what I did, he was going to… then he…" The tears turned to wails as she tried to continue, "And I've… I've never felt more disgusted! I felt helpless and so pathetic, so desperate for someone to come and save me that I stupidly called out your name, even though I knew you wouldn't hear me… That hope was still there."
Natsu had barely moved, so ashamed of himself for not being there in her time of need that he didn't know what to do with this new information. He felt angry beyond words that some bastard out there was walking free after doing such a horrific thing to his Lucy. But among the anger, there were other feelings; guilt; sadness; frustration; regret; all of them fighting for dominance in his tumultuous mind.
"Lucy…" Was all he could manage, unable to find the right words to tell her how truly sorry he was for not coming to her aid, sickened by the fact that while he wasn’t there, she’d suffered so greatly.
"I was so scared, Natsu!" She started, turning to look at his own sombre expression, "But I knew that if anyone were to come, it'd be you." Lucy's lips lifted in the corners, her smile full of sadness and sorrow, "When he finished, I couldn’t move, and all I remember feeling was coldness of the hard floor, wishing you'd come through that window and warm me up again…"
But that's not what happened, and he felt like the worst best friend in the world because of it. She'd needed a loving hand to lead her away from the pain, to comfort her and protect her from the monster that lurked in the dark, but he’d arrived too late.
He felt his heart sink and his stomach drop, his guilt and regret taking precedence, "I… I, I'm so sorry, Lucy… I never meant to… I didn't think-"
"Like I said, I don't blame you for not being there… It wouldn’t be fair of me to do that. How were you to know?” As much as it hurt her, she knew that had he been there, it would’ve been a totally different story, “I just… I need…”
She couldn’t say it with words, but he knew exactly what she was trying to tell him. She needed him, and that’s exactly what he was going to give her. Without saying a word, he reached forward and pulled the desperate girl back into his chest, enveloping her in that warmth she yearned for more than anything else, and held her as if his life depended on it. He wasn't letting go, not ever, and with every minute that passed with her in his arms, was another second towards healing her shattered heart.
“I’m always gonna be here, Lucy. I promise you.” He whispered into her hair, kissing the top of her head as if she was the most precious thing in the world. “You mean too much to me.”
She snuggled closer, wanting to be as near to him as she could and tightened her grip, “Thank you, Natsu.” With his warmth seeping deep into her cold body, warming her very soul, she relaxed against him, and felt her eyes slowly close, “Thank you...”
I know this was a sad one for nalu day, but I wanted to convey more the bond between them rather than the actual incident. I hope you liked it anyway! :) 
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jaskiersvalley · 3 years ago
Note
I just reached the bottom of your writings and felt the need to say that i appreciate you. You’re really cool and im happy I stumbled upon you.
You are far far too sweet. This has been sat in my inbox for so long because I don't think anyone has called me cool before and I wanted to bask in that. I really appreciate you too and I'm really happy you stumbled upon my blog. So I hope you're still in the fandom and enjoy this little bit of odd zombie AU.
CW: Zombies, apocalypse, Resdent Evil/Last of Us inspired AU.
Last Hope
Nobody expected the Continent to turn to shit. War had been on the horizon, Nilfgaard was advancing but not once did anyone expect them to have been experimenting with creating superior soldiers to fight for them. Allegedly the idea had been to harvest some of the Continent's monsters' attributes and imbue them into soldiers, creating a new class of warriors. It hadn't worked. But what Nilfgaard did manage to create was a virus like no other before. It turned humans and animals into mindless, violent creatures whose sole purpose was to feed, preferably on human flesh. The virus spread like no other, bringing the whole Continent to its knees.
Pockets of survivors remained, walled up in thick stone keeps. Kaer Morhen was one such sanctuary. Witchers, it turned out, weren't immune to the virus. Letho had watched Serrit and Auckes succumb to it, had put them down before setting light to where they'd been trying to stay safe and he set off to find somewhere, anywhere, that would accept him. The cold didn't impact much on the undead, they still moved just as deadly fast, unencumbered by things like fatigue, hunger or frostbite. Still, he made it up to the keep and was welcomed in. It was probably the most full Kaer Morhen had been in a long time. There were witchers, sorceresses, humans, dwarves, vampires and who knew what else, all coexisting and trying to make the best of their lives.
"I heard rumours," Letho said over dinner. "There's someone immune to this whole wretched thing down South."
"And I heard a rumour that taking a shit over the parapets cures piles," Lambert shot back with a snort. Being cooped up with so many people didn't exactly suit him, even when Aiden was there along with Eskel too.
Yennefer sat up straighter. "I've heard that rumour too. Sent word out that if it's true, we're probably best placed to try and find what makes the person so special. Maybe derive a cure from them."
Not long after, Gaetan arrived with Guxart. And with some news.
"There's a man and a girl travelling North. Allegedly with the hope of a cure."
The others exchanged looks, not wanting to believe rumours. Hope was a dangerous thing, but they could all use a dose of it. Things had been bleak to say the least.
Guxart picked up the story. "There's a lot of people gunning for them. So far they've evaded being captured, left quite a bloody trail too. We saw what remained of a tavern. Allegedly the group living there had been luring in weary travellers with the promise of safety, only to throw them into a fighting ring." Unfortunately such stories weren't unusual, humans had the most disdainful ideas of entertainment at times. Guxart pressed on, "If it was those two then I hope they're not headed here. They left no survivors, cleared out the place of humans and undead alike. It was a massacre."
There was nothing to do but wait. A week passed, then another. The hope they'd felt at the mention of a possible path to a cure dwindled and turned into bitter disappointment at the backs of their minds. It was almost three weeks later that there was a commotion on the path to the old keep. The undead who lurked in the trees were snarling and howling as two figures broke into a sprint on the last stretch of the path, pursued by quite a hoard of hungry zombies.
"Get the gate!" Vesemir bellowed and it was a mad dash to open the gates while armed. They weren't quick enough and a scuffle broke out as the two travellers were up against the gates, the undead descending upon them. A sharp scream went up from what sounded like a young girl. The gate opened and Eskel reached out, pulling her in first before Lambert gruffly yanked her protector in too. The others pushed to slam the gates shut, bolting it once more.
"Cahir! Are you okay?" The girl ignored them all in favour of checking over her guardian, wisps of blonde hair sticking to her sweaty face.
"I'm fine." A gruff answer and the so called Cahir looked up at them with an exhausted, hollow gaze. "This is Kaer Morhen, right? We were told this is where we had to come. She's Ciri, I'm Cahir."
Vesemir stepped forward with a brisk nod. "Welcome. Let's get you settled. From what I hear, you had quite the journey."
Yennefer ushered Ciri away and the others trailed after her, curious to see what someone immune to the virus looked like, acted like. The left Eskel to lead Cahir to a room of his own.
"Nilfgaard's quite a way," he said by way of conversation, ignoring the way Cahir rubbed his wrist under his cloak.
"Vicovaro is even further." The answer was a little prim and offended. "I'm not Nilfgaardian."
"My apologies. If you want to clean up, we have a communal bath in the lower levels. You're welcome to join us."
The offer seemed to go ignored as Cahir simply flopped on the bed and closed his eyes without even kicking off his worn boots. Eskel couldn't begrudge him, such a journey was long and tiring even before the world went to shit. To then have to cross the Continent while chased by who knew how many people wanting his precious charge and the unending masses of undead no doubt made the whole thing exhausting.
Dinner was bubbling away in a large cauldron over a fire and the chores for the day were done. It was quite common for most of the residents of Kaer Morhen to settle in the baths, one of the few remaining luxuries left for them. To everyone's surprise Cahir bumbled in a little while later, still sleep rumpled but without his cloak. It left his ragged and torn shirt in full view, including where one sleeve had been ripped off at the elbow. On his lower arm was a freshly applied bandage with blood that had seeped through in an all too telling pattern. Cries of alarm went up as they spotted the bite.
"You've been bitten!"
"How could you endanger us like this?"
"You idiot!"
It was a cacophony as various witchers jumped out of the baths, reaching for their swords and heedless of their nudity. There was a very real danger in their midst that needed to be taken care of. Cahir held up his hands in a placating manner, surrendering without a fight.
"If I may?" He pulled his shirt over his head and the others tried to make sense of what they were seeing. His body was littered with scars from bites. Some were healed, others still scabbed over. When the trousers slid down, Cahir's legs were no different.
"What the-?" Lambert scowled.
It was the exact moment Yennefer arrived, Ciri in tow. She gave Cahir a once over. "It would seem we made some assumptions. Cahir, when you're rested and fed, I'd like to take a sample of your blood and hair please."
Next to her, Ciri giggled and tucked a strand of hair out of her face. She walked up to Cahir and took his bandaged arm in hand, inspecting his handiwork.
"You're getting better at this," she announced. "Hopefully it's the last one you've taken for me or anyone else though."
Her words were followed by an eerie silence in the baths as the others mulled over everything.
"So-" Eskel rubbed the back of his neck with a small frown, "-is Ciri your daughter?"
A bright laugh bubbled out of Ciri at that. "If only I was so lucky. I was his escort and bodyguard. Our pursuers often assumed that me being so young looking meant I was the immune one and Cahir was protecting me. That deception worked well for us."
Guxart cleared his throat. "We saw a tavern that was a fighting ring."
Both Ciri's and Cahir's faces darkened at that. It was Cahir who answered.
"We survived. But barely." His hand rubbed over his shoulder where a large chunk had been torn out, leaving a visible dent. "Had to lay low and recover for a while after that. Ciri injured her throat."
"And you got a bitch of a fever. You're the worst patient ever, always fidgeting and poking. It's a miracle only that bite got infected so bad."
Cahir stuck his tongue out at Ciri and she poked him in the stomach. In turn Cahir ruffled her hair and danced away. Taking it as a challenge, she dashed after him and gave him a shove that sent him flying, landing with a big splash in one of the baths. Spluttering and laughing, he surfaced.
"Oh you little bitch!" He playfully splashed water in her direction but Ciri let out a scream and the water froze mid arc before dropping into a sad little puddle on the ground.
The others stared at her in awe and horror. She grinned at them with a shrug. "You didn't really think they'd send some random, helpless girl as a bodyguard, did you?"
A hand landed on Ciri's shoulder as Yennefer smiled down at her. "You and I have a lot to discuss. How would you feel about learning how to control your powers even better?"
For the first time since the news that there might be a solution to the virus, hope trickled back into the lives of the residents of Kaer Morhen. It wasn't going to be an overnight solution, they knew it wasn't going to be easy. But they were one small step closer to a safer, happier life and that was more than enough for them after years of despair.
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castthy-nightedcolour · 3 years ago
Text
One- Shot: A Different Side (written as part of my series ‘don’t worry about a thing’ on AO3, link can be found at the bottom of the post as it won’t let me embed it)
Fandom: Good Omens
Characters: GN Reader, Crowley, a very annoying mouse
Warnings and Tags: snakes, animal death/ harm, swearing, uh oh we have a pest control problem, snake crowley, comfort , are they aren’t they
Summary: mouse traps, a skip full of rubbish and a broken down bus. not exactly your dream day, but your favourite demonic entity has a trick up his sleeve and behind his glasses to help you.
Word Count: 2778
Link to original: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31055930/chapters/81050182
If there was one word to describe your mood, that word would be vile. Tiny little irritants throughout the day had built to a simmering anger:
-Firstly, your bus into town had broken down about ten minutes away from your stop, meaning that you were forced to trek your way to the shops.
-Secondly, your trip to said shops wasn’t for any kind of retail therapy, but was instead to buy mouse traps. Your usually serene flat had been taken over by a little grey rodent who despite any humane efforts, was refusing to leave. You weren’t usually one for violence towards any living thing, but the little shit was out staying its welcome and had most recently been seen taking a bite out of a loaf of bread.
-When you did eventually get into town, it seemed to be the day for the world’s slowest walkers to take to the streets. Everyone was moving at about two steps per minute and you, being naturally speedy, were constantly waiting for gaps on the pavement to overtake. When you did manage to do this, there would be a whole new couple walking side by side, plodding along at a snail’s pace. You weren’t getting anywhere quick.
All in all, not your finest hour. This all came to a head on Oxford Street, or as you liked to call it, hell.
Your brain felt as though it were made of jelly, your temperature was rising, and someone stopped right in the middle of the street to check their phone. Slamming right into the back of them, you immediately let out something resembling a howl before running to your side off down Old Cavendish Street, somewhere slightly quieter. You leaned against the nearest wall, hot anger bubbling within you for what at the time, seemed like a life or death scenario of you getting out of town with the mousetraps, but in retrospect was just the culmination of various shitty things.
The last thing which you wanted to hear was any sign that you were being perceived, but a teenage boy riding past you on a bike shouting an obnoxious ‘WAHEYYYY’ at you was enough to tip you over the edge. You bashed your head back on the wall, feeling acid tears of anger falling, pedalled down your face by your short temper. Then, another shout came towards you from across the street.
‘Y/N? Is that you?’
You were ready to push yourself off the wall to lunge at this person until your brain caught up with recognition. Tilting your head forwards, your suspicions were confirmed when you saw floppy, ginger hair bouncing over the street atop a leather-clad frame. The sunglasses perched on his nose brought you a feeling somewhere between relief and fear.
You and Crowley had a relationship which can only be described as ‘are they? Aren’t they?’
You sure as hell couldn’t tell if he had any romantic feelings for you, and he gave off vibes so mixed that they were jumbled by this point. People always commented on the electricity between the two of you whenever you were together, but you tried not to get your hopes up and usually just put this down to his magnetising nature.
He’d told you about himself, and you thought that he must have trusted you somewhat to be able to disclose that he was a demon to you.
Then again, maybe he was just overly confident.
In the state you were currently in, you couldn’t decide whether to run into his arms to scream, or run as quickly away from him as was physically possible.
Your body chose neither and just stood there, open mouthed and gawking as the tears continued to fall with no effort from your eyelids. Crowley examined you, peering over the top of his sunglasses to try and decipher the scene before him.
‘Don’t tell me someone’s upset you, because I will find them for you, Y/N’ he started, rearing himself up as he spoke. You jumped in.
‘No, no. Not upset. I swear. Just… pissed off. Massively, massively pissed off. Short fuse today, y’see.’
‘Oh. Well, I know all about that. I’m quick to anger at any given moment but then again, ‘s in my nature. What exactly are you doing down here?’
You looked to your side at the gigantic skip full of building waste, then down to your feet where someone’s puke sat. You looked back up to the demon.
‘It was a quick escape, one that was made before I slapped someone in the face.’
Crowley looked slightly taken aback, not expecting any expression of violence from you considering your usually placid nature.
‘Ooookay. Well, I won’t ask for details but, here.’ He leaned over slightly and brushed away some of the tears which were still running down your face. You could swear that you both stopped breathing for a moment as he touched you but then again, you weren’t in a fit state for rational thinking.
‘Thank you,’ you breathed out. ‘I’m all good, I promise. Just need to breathe.’ You gave a reassuring smile to the demon and noticed him looking down to your hand, holding a flimsy plastic bag containing the mouse traps.
‘What you got there? Looks interesting.’ He said, tilting his head to try and get a closer look. You brought the bag up to your chest.
‘Oh, mouse traps. There’s a little shit thinking that he owns my flat who’s probably currently in my bread bin. Thought I’d stop the problem while I could, considering there’s that saying about seeing mice. Y’know, for every mouse you see, there’s always another one somewhere. Can’t wait to clean that up!’ Your words had somewhat of a bite, being spat like venom.
‘Woah. You really are pissed, aren’t you?’ Crowley responded, half smirking. For some reason, this set you off again.
‘Yes. Yes, actually I am. Because y’know what? This day has been fucking horrific! I genuinely don’t think that I’ve had two consecutive minutes of peace since the second I woke up. I can’t relax because of the mouse, then there was the bus, and the walking, and the pain in my feet, and the twat who decided to check his phone in the middle of Oxford Street. Sorry, who the hell does that? I just feel like I’ve been left out of any plans that the universe had to let people go about their day without a care in the world. So yes, I’m fuming.’ You gave a huff before realising that you were now crying again. Crowley stood slightly dumbstruck, shifting his weight between his feet. You glanced off to the side, watching the shoppers propel themselves down Oxford Street.
The demon then spoke, his voice low and sincere.
‘Can I give you a lift?’
After what felt like a windswept journey in the Bentley, Crowley screeched to a halt outside your flat. Jolting forwards slightly, the plastic bag containing the mouse traps crinkled between your legs.
You’d calmed down quite significantly, but now felt a combination of complete embarrassment that you’d had such an outburst in front of the being that you completely adored, and absolute excitement that he’d even offered you a lift. This wasn’t helped when you heard him say,
‘Let me walk you upstairs. Check that you’re okay.’
You felt fizzy, and as the two of you trudged up to your flat, you felt as though you could lift off any second. As you unlocked your front door, Crowley leaned on the doorframe, peering in to the hallway as you threw your bag on the floor. You suddenly regretted this as when the bag hit the floor, there was a scuttle from under your bedroom door, and the little mouse took one giant sprint off towards the kitchen. You screamed in shock as the little bastard took itself away, and Crowley grabbed onto your arm. This made you jump for a second time.
‘Woah woah there, calm down. It’s just a little mouse, we’ll sort this,’ Crowley sweetly spoke, lulling your heart back to a slightly normal rate. You looked down to his arm resting on yours and couldn’t help but smile slightly.
Crowley had a look on his face which would have read from ten miles away as one with a scheme brewing.
‘Look Y/N, I’m going to do something here which I don’t do very often, and all I’m asking is that you don’t freak out,’ the demon announced.
You couldn’t help but make a sarcastic joke.
‘What’s that then, the housework?’ Smirking, you looked up at Crowley who glared at you through his sunglasses.
‘Fine, you don’t need my help!’ He huffed, obviously taking the piss but you couldn’t help but tease him back into good spirits.
‘No no, sorry Crowley. What have you got for me?’
‘Snake.’
You stood there for a second, trying to make any sense of what he just said and burning up slightly as you wondered if this was perhaps his way of flirting.
‘A… a snake? You have a snake?’
‘Yes. Well, no. Well… yes. Look it’s complicated, can I just show you?’
Uh oh. Maybe this was him flirting.
You thought for a second before hearing an almighty crash from the kitchen, and from down the hallway you saw an entire loaf of bread fall to the ground, followed by a small army of mice. Again, you let out a scream as Crowley slammed the door shut behind the both of you.
‘How fucking many are there now?!’ You exclaimed, turning to face Crowley who was now quickly shifting between his feet. He suddenly grabbed your shoulders.
‘Look Y/N, tell me quick, do you have a phobia?’
‘Of mice? I think that’s pretty evident Crow-‘
‘No, of snakes. Are you scared of snakes?’
‘What is it with you and these snakes?’ You laughed. The demon then stood dead still and stared right at you.
‘Stay still. Don’t freak out please. I promise this will help.’
Before you knew it, Crowley’s hands had disappeared off your shoulders and he seemed to disappear entirely from before you. Confused, you looked down at the floor.
What you saw took your breath away for what felt like forever.
Rows and rows of black scales suddenly lined your hallway, flowing from side to side as the form made its way towards the kitchen. This didn’t take long, considering the snake’s body seemed to run on forever, there must have been at least 10 metres of the creature occupying your apartment.
You’d never really considered Crowley’s powers before. While you were aware that he was a demon, this thought didn’t control your every interaction with him. He was just Crowley- your friend Crowley- your possibly more than a friend Crowley- your Crowley. Shapeshifting had never been part of the picture.
But it was so, so beautiful.
Moving.
And snakes were never your favourite but this was just something else.
Squeals of mouse terror came from the kitchen as a massive shadow rose up throughout the whole apartment. Crowley was sitting up on his body, his head pointed towards any mouse that he could detect and a razor sharp stare in his luminescent eyes.
Your favourite part of this whole scenario was laying on the floor in front of you- Crowley’s sunglasses, sans Crowley for the first time ever. You smiled as you bent down to pick them up, your feet planted to the spot due to the inherently overwhelming nature of what was happening. You ran your fingers over the frames feeling the heat that was stored in them.
There was something so human about the lingering warmth to the metal, but that thing that made it so distinctively Crowley was the fact that the heat never seemed to fade.
The floor seemed to move as the scales once again shifted, with Crowley turning round to come back towards you. Cold fear seized your entire body, despite the oddly comforting and protective energy of this gigantic creature. His yellow eyes were right in front of your face before you’d even managed to properly react to him moving towards you.
You blinked and the Crowley that you knew and … ahem… was standing in front you, a live mouse swinging from his hand by the tail.
‘Consider those rodents dispatched.’
The mouse in his hand was thrashing wildly from side to side and while you hated the little shits, you couldn’t help but feel sorry for it. You went to protest but no words came out of your mouth.
You’d just witnessed something- something that couldn’t exactly be described as a miracle but to you- maybe?
Crowley noticed the panic in your eyes directed towards the mouse and realised what he needed to do. The mouse disappeared in another of your blinks.
There were so many pressing questions on your mind, but you only managed to actually articulate one of them.
‘Please tell me you didn’t eat those mice, Crowley?’ Your tone was somewhere between intrigue and massive concern.
The demon scoffed, ‘I prefer oysters normally, Y/N. No, I didn’t eat them. I can assure you though, they won’t be back any time soon.’
Palpable silence hung between the two of you. You naturally seemed to hold out Crowley’s sunglasses to him, staring directly into the eyes which served as a reminder of his other form as you did so.
Crowley went to slowly take the glasses off you, but in a snap decision, you snatched them back. Crowley wasn’t exactly thrilled by this.
‘Hey, don’t play games with those. They’re my-‘
He didn’t stand a chance of finishing his sentence before you jumped in, with your subconscious mind taking a grasp on your mouth. Maybe this was a trick of Crowley’s, but at least some of it came from your heart.
‘Do it again. Turn back.’
The two of you stared at each other as a smirk took over the demon’s face.
‘Really? It seemed to terrify you, dearest.’
The cockiness in his voice only persuaded you to carry on pushing.
‘Not at all! No no, it was just... well it was a shock at first. Obviously. Like who the hell else can do that? But no, not terror. It’s intrigue. I swear.’
You made sure to assert yourself in your voice as your brain convinced you that you would never rest again unless Crowley turned back into a snake. It was almost like the sheer shock had morphed into utter obsession in a matter of seconds.
And maybe you just adored every part of Crowley and him being vulnerable in showing a new side to you? Well...
Again, you blinked and he was gone for a moment, before the black reptile rose up to meet your gaze. He hadn’t continued to question you.
The presence was unexplainable, physically so big in the space but even just the idea of him just seemed to fill up every corner of the place. Moving the sunglasses into your right hand, you tentatively raised up your left.
‘Can... may I? Can I touch?’ You softly asked, mimicking a petting action in the air. Somehow, Crowley let you know that it was okay, pulling your hand towards him with some kind of magnetising energy.
Your fingers lightly brushed the scales on his head and you took a breath so deep you almost triggered hiccups. The texture was confusing, it almost seemed like it was shifting forms by the second- smooth then rough, hard then feather soft, but still always cool as marble. You fully rested your hand down as you glanced along the entire body, once again filling up the entire hallway.
‘Crowley, this is beautiful. I mean that.’ You whispered, transfixed on what you were seeing.
Then, the unimaginable happened. Your hand which had ended up resting on the snake’s head suddenly felt warm.
Was... was he blushing? You decided to test the water slightly more.
‘I didn’t even imagine that anything could be so magnificent but, well. Here you are. So gorgeous.’
Sure enough, another flush felt through your hand.
‘Crowley, are you blushing?’ You giggled. The heat on his face then took another rise, this time enough to hurt you slightly. You drew your hand away instinctually, but with a smile still on your face.
This was now a day worth noting. The day that started with a mouse in a bread bin and some unfortunately placed anger, and ended as the day that you made a snake blush.
And of course, he made you blush too.
A new side of Crowley. One that you couldn’t help but adore.
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hoseokslefteyebrow · 3 years ago
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A Royal Love Story || K.NJ
Pairing : Kim Namjoon X Reader Genre : Fluff, a sprinkle of angst somewhere too Summary : Namjoon has often imagined being the prince in Cinderella, yet he never imagined that his version would have horses in it too. Wordcount: 9.3k [ A/N: Sorry for the shitty summary lol. Anyw, Enjoy!]
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You're a royal staff member of your country and you're head of the royal horse care.
Namjoon is the second born prince of South Korea. 
You two aren't really meant to meet, but accidentally do when Namjoon and his family come over for the coronation of the princess of your country, Jisoo.
Unlike the rest of the royal staff members who come to greet him and his family, you aren't there.
Not because you're sick or anything, but simply because you forgot and were busy with the horses.
Namjoon meets you when he walks off into the fields of the palace, where you let the horses graze.
The first thing that catches his eye is how good the horses look.
They look a lot more healthy than the horses in his palace, he realizes.
"Hello sir, are you lost?" 
It’s the first thing you say to him.
It takes Namjoon a moment to realize that you're talking to him and a moment longer to realize that you don't know that he's a royal.
" Ah, no. I went to take a walk around the palace for a bit of fresh air." Is what he finally answers.
He sees you nod and turn back to your own business, which appears to be cleaning up horse tack in the small building near the grazing fields.
He looks at you for a moment before one of the horses in the back of the graze field spots you, and starts neighing.
At first he thinks that the horse is about to charge at him as the animal heads his way in a calm gallop.
But then he's left perplexed as he watches the horse stop near where you are standing, dragging one of his legs over the ground to get your attention.
You complain in your own native language to the horse after a moment as you come out from the tack building, tough Namjoon doesn't know what you say.
He watches in admiration as he sees how you pet the horse and how the horse reacts to you, unlike the horses in his palace, this horse looks a lot happier.
" That's a lively horse." Namjoon comments, trying to start a conversation.
" Yes, he certainly is. His name is Winter." You smile at him.
" I assume you work here?" He smiles.
You nod.
" Yes, I'm the head caretaker of the stables. I assume that you work for one of the royal families who have arrived?" 
Namjoon's breath stutters for a moment, you really didn't know.
" Yes, I'm one of the prince's advisors." He ends up telling you.
" Cool. What country are you from? I don't think I've seen you before." 
" I'm from Korea." 
He watches as you nod along to his words before your expression looks like something akeen to having forgotten something.
" That's what I forgot this morning! The royals from Korea were arriving today! Wait, that means it's the 24th! Excuse me sir, I have to go. There's a new delivery of horse tack waiting and the delivery guy can't get in without a signed paper of mine. Bye!"
And then you're sprinting away.
Namjoon blinks as he looks after your form, that was quite a meeting.
You obviously didn't recognize him, and he's happy with how relaxed you are because you think that he's also part of the staff.
He ends up going to the stables a lot more often in his time off.
He ends up learning a lot about you, and unintentionally about your horse too.
For instance, your horse is a picky horse, and only lets you ride him with little to no trouble.
The black and gray arabian horse is happy to be pet by everyone, but doesn't allow everyone in his stable and certainly not everyone on his back.
He also almost loses his sanity when he gets chased by one of the chickens of the stables and you laugh as he comes running to you while being chased by a chicken, yelling that it wants to kill him.
You laugh and pick the chicken up as she tries to run past you.
" What did you do wrong to Nugget?"
" You named it?" Is Namjoon's only response as he turns to you when he realizes the chicken is now just complaining in your arms.
You smile and nod.
He smiles back evilly.
" The name suits her, she should become a few chicken nuggets."
Namjoon's social skills with women were never really good, but this was particularly terrible, he realizes as he doesn't see you laugh at his joke.
Instead you look at him with a deadpanned expression before putting the chicken down and letting it resume it's hunt.
He does miss the tiny smile that grows on your face as Namjoon is out of sight.
The time after that when Namjoon goes to visit you, he's surprised that Chaeyoung is there too, Jisoo's younger sister.
The both of you are just smiling and talking like normal teenage girls.
You both look like typical horse girls right now while you're both brushing your own horses.
Chaeyoung spots Namjoon before he can turn away.
" Prince Namjoon? Are you looking for something?"
And you look surprised, while Namjoon starts feeling nervous.
" Ah, no. Ehm, I'm just walking by and-"
" Prince?"  You ask, obviously confused.
" Oh, right. Y/N, this is prince Kim Namjoon the second born prince from South Korea, Prince Namjoon, this is L/N Y/N. She's our head caretaker of the stables. He's one of the princes you've missed the arrival of." Chaeyoung whispers the last part to you.
" Wait- you're a prince? You told me you're the prince's advisor." You say, now very confused.
Chaeyoung gulps and starts to feel awkward, so she decides to let her horse out in the meadow to give you two space.
" Why did you lie?" You ask, you don't sound hurt, just confused.
Cause' why would he lie over something like that? It's something you're bound to find out.
" I was planning on telling you at some point, but I like the way you treat me. I don't want that to change. I feel like a normal 25 year old. I knew you didn't know who I was as soon as you spotted me that day, so I decided to just lie." Namjoon gulps, feeling like a little kid caught stealing candy.
You nod before turning your back to him, carrying on with brushing your horse.
" So, am I still allowed to call you Namjoon or do you rather have me call you your majesty?" You ask him, and he can feel the teasing edge in your voice.
He smiles and relaxes.
" So, are you going to the ball?" Namjoon asks you a few days later while the two of you are sitting in the stables at night.
You shake your head.
" No, I'm not invited." 
" Oh, and if I'd manage to get you in, would you come?" He asks hopefully.
" Probably not, sorry. I have nothing to wear to an occasion like that and that's really outside of my comfort zone." You smile a little embarrassed.
Namjoon nods, unaffected.
" And if I get you a dress? A real pretty one. And I'll stay by your side the whole night, would you then come?" He tries.
You chuckle and shake your head.
" Nope. Why are you so set on getting me there anyway?"
He bites his lip, pondering if he should tell you the truth or tell you that it's a suprise and that you could only know if you show up.
He decides to go with the truth.
" All royals are attending the first dance during the ball for the coronation. I wanted you to be my dance partner." 
He doesn't look at you while he's telling you, instead staring at the mare who's just eating hay.
You blush, touched by his answer.
" I'm sorry, and although that does sound nice. I'll just end up feeling uncomfortable at the ball anyway. But we can have your first dance of the night right here if you want?" You smile at him as you get up, holding out your hand.
Namjoon usually isn't a dancer, but he doesn't see why not, and so he takes it.
That night he really feels like a guy his age, as he dances the most random and awkward dance moves with you.
One thing was sure, you both suck at dancing.
And even tough th both of you did, the moment was still very precious for Namjoon, and though you're not aware of it, the moment is precious for you too.
The day of the ball is boring for Namjoon.
His dad, the king, tries convincing him into dancing with the Italian princess who will be present tonight, but Namjoon really doesn't want to.
He goes to visit you in the early afternoon, but you're very busy, because there will be even more people than there already were, so you were supposed to have all your chores done by the time the first guests arrive.
He decides that he'll look for you later.
The main part of the afternoon is spend with dance practice, and him trying not to step on his dance partner's toes. 
Which he does several times, but he doesn't really find it in himself to care, she was getting paid to put up with him after all.
By the end of dance practice, his instructor Hoseok is thinking about just breaking one of his legs and using that as excuse to not dance at all.
When Namjoon looks in the mirror that evening, he realizes that he's not really happy.
He's not depressed either, just not happy. 
He doesn't want to be put under all these social standards of looking good and acting good and just being perfect.
He takes a deep breath before entering the ballroom.
He ends up dancing with a random princess from China.
She is pretty, he admits. And nice too, but she's not...... You.
His breath stops for a moment when he realizes he's got a crush on you.
After the dance he excuses himself saying that he isn't feeling too well.
That's all a lie however, and he's really just going to you.
He hopes that you're still at the stables, but he's feeling disappointed when he sees all the lights turned off.
At first he thinks you're already off to bed, but then he hears hooves and he knows that you never leave the horses outside at night.
He goes to the meadow meant for riding and he's surprised to see you riding your horse without any tack.
He ends up watching you ride for a while.
Until the moment the moment is ruined and someone else approaches the meadow.
In the most chaotic way possible.
Yelling while sipping wine and barely walking on his two legs.
Namjoon feels his heart stop for a moment as Winter raises his front hooves in the air, leaning heavily on his behind legs, the horse spooked by this new stranger
He calms down when Winter's front hooves touch the ground again, and you're still seated.
" Prince James, why are you here instead of enjoying the party?" You ask, not dismounting your horse.
" Realized the pretty girl wasn't there. Decides to come look for her. Aren't I cute?~" James, one of the two princes of England, must know you to talk to you like that.
Namjoon doesn't like it.
You cannot disrespect a woman like that, that's just, wrong.
" No, you're disgusting, honestly. Please go back to the ball." You ask him, and Namjoon sees that look in your eyes and knows the meaning, you're afraid of the prince.
" I don't think I want to-"
He spots a rope halter lying on one of the fences and decides to try and help you out.
" Hello, fancy seeing you here. I assume that there are no troubles?" Namjoon rolls in smoothly, wordlessly handing you the halter.
You seem relieved at his arrival and slip off your horse, gently putting the halter on Winter.
James seems a little less pleased with Namjoon's arrival.
He mumbles out an excuse before leaving, almost falling in the bushes as he walks off.
" I thought you went to the ball?" You asked once James was out of sight.
Namjoon shrugged with a dimpled smile.
" I was, but it was boring there. Decided to come here instead." 
You smiled at his answer.
The both of you went to lead Winter back in his box and walked a little bit around the stables, just talking.
" You know, it seemed as if you knew James. Have you met him before?" He asked at some point.
You shrugged and nodded.
" Sort of. My parents used to work for his stables until I was born, the court here was impressed by how good the horses look and promised my parents a finer stay on the royal grounds, they agreed to go here instead." 
" So, you're born in England?" Namjoon asked.
" Yeah. And I used to be friends with James, but he became too spoilt." You answered.
Namjoon nodded in understanding, he knew more royals like that.
" So, are you coming to the coronation?" Namjoon asked.
You nodded with a smile.
" Of course I am, everyone is invited." 
" That's great! Than I'll probably see you there tomorrow, right?" He asked with a shy smile.
You nodded.
" Definitely."
For the first time in what felt like forever, Namjoon cared about his outfit.
He wanted to look good in front of you.
He knew he had a bad taste when it came to clothing, but luckily his younger brother Taehyung didn't, and so he decided to bother him.
" Oh, what do I owe this pleasure too, your dear royal highness." Taehyung dramatically bowed as his older brother stood in front of his door opening. 
" Stop being so dramatic, drama queen. And I need your help with something." The elder rubbed his neck and looked at the ground, feeling shy.
" Let me guess, you found out that stable girl of yours is coming to the coronation and you want to look good?" Taehyung teased with a smile.
Namjoon looked at him in suprise.
" How do you know that?"
" Know what? Your little crush on her or the reason why you're here?" Taehyung smirked.
" Both."
" Well, I'm pretty sure everyone knows about your little crush because you spent more time with her than you ever did with me or anyone else, and I knew she was coming to the coronation too and my genius brain managed to get that all together and came to a conclusion." Taehyung said proudly.
" Wow, I didn't think your two brain cells could manage." Namjoon teased him.
Taehyung let out an offended 'hey' before getting to work and going to Namjoon's closet.
Because they weren't at home, they had a limited amount to choose from, but Taehyung was determined to let his brother look handsome.
He was supposed to look good after all, especially since he wanted to impress a woman.
Meanwhile you were in your little house trying to decide on what to wear.
You too wanted to look good, your crush was also coming to the coronation and last time you checked, you were kind of unofficial dating.
You two haven't spoken in a while as other royal families had stayed over and you were busy, but you hoped he didn't forget about you just yet. ( He also works in the palace, but he's a butler.)
For some reason, you also found yourself hoping to look good in front of Namjoon.
Whenever you thought of him, you felt shy and warm.
The gentleman has certainly charmed you for sure, but you did not know him well enough to consider him as a romantic interest.
You shook your head and focused back at the task at hand.
You decided to go with a simple red dress, with thin straps and off shoulder ruffles. 
It was innocent, but sexy.
The coronation was beautiful, and you couldn't believe how your best friend was now a real queen.
" Your majesty." You curtsy with a teasing smile as she approached you.
" Aish, stop it you." She smiled as you giggled in response and hugged.
" I can't believe you're a queen now." You told her proudly.
" I know, I can't either. I'm really afraid I'll mess something up." She said honestly.
" That's understandable. I don't know the feeling of standing in your shoes, but I'm sure you'll do great. Besides, even the greatest people make mistakes sometimes. They'll just have to learn to not stand still by it." You reassured her.
" Thank you for being my best friend." She smiled.
" Also, pretty butler at 5 o' clock." She winked before slipping away.
You bit your lip nervously and turned around, happy to see him after so long.
You smiled as you spotted him and approached him.
" Hey, long time no see, huh?" You greeted him.
" Yeah, hey. Certainly a long time yeah." He smiled awkwardly back.
Was something wrong?
" I assume it's been busy in the palace?" You try to start a conversation.
" Yeah, indeed. Not like you understand." He muttered the last part.
You raised your eyebrow at his attitude.
" Is something the matter?" You asked him.
" Yeah, no.- Look, I should apologize. I know we had something, but I have a girlfriend now. And I honestly don't want to deal with you." He huffed bluntly.
Ouch. Now that's a pang in your heart.
" Oh. I'll be go-"
" Hey baby, who's this?" A woman approached the two of you, most likely his girlfriend.
" Just a horse girl." He said it as if it's a bad thing.
You couldn't believe him right now, you felt the need to cry, but refused to cry in front of him.
" You're pathetic." You chuckled while shaking your head with glossy eyes before walking off.
" Spotted her yet?" Jin whispered in his younger brother's ear as he was still searching.
" Yah! Don't scare me like that." Namjoon huffed.
" Isn't that her?" Jin asked, ignoring his complaint, while pointing to a direction.
Namjoon followed his hyung's finger to see where he was pointing, and indeed there you were.
He watched as you chuckled while shaking your head before walking away from a couple.
You looked beautiful, he didn't know just how good you looked in a dress, and coincidentally, the dress was his style too.
" Y/N!" He called, hoping to catch up with you.
" Yah! No thank you for your hyung?" Jin complaint from behind him.
" Thanks hyung!" Namjoon yelled back over his shoulder.
Jin shook his head smiling, his brother was whipped.
" Y/N, wait up!" Namjoon yelled, hoping that you heard him, but you kept walking.
" Y/N?" He asked as he finally reached you, and put a hand on your shoulder.
You jumped at the contact and turned around, only now he noticed your glossy eyes.
" Oh, Namjoon. Hey. Sorry, my head was elsewhere." You  showed his a forced smile.
" Hey, are you okay? Your eyes are glossy." Namjoon asked.
" Sorry, it's not everyday you find out that your crush turns out to be a dick." You smile bitterly.
Namjoon didn't know how to feel when hearing that.
He was obviously not the person you were talking about, because he didn't ( and would never) break your heart, but now you were sad and he didn't like that. 
On the other side of it, he now knew that there would be a free spot in your heart, and he's willing to fight for it.
" Let's take a walk. I'm here for you." He said as he wiped a tear that fell from your eye, moved a lock of your hair behind your ear before eventually taking your hand and leading you through the market whitin the palace grounds.
You told him everything.
From the part where you started gaining feelings for him, to where you two kind of had something, to where he turned out to be a dick. 
And Namjoon listened patiently to all of it.
" Honestly, I just wish that I could leave this place but I have no guarantee that I will ever get a job half this good ever again." You groaned at the end of it.
An idea clicked in his mind.
" But what if you can?" He whispered, stopping with walking.
" What?" You asked confused.
" Come with me. We have stables too, and the horses back at home don't look as happy as they are here. So I'm sure my parents will be fine with it." He suggests.
" I don't know." You think.
" Just think it through for a few days, the pay won't be as great as here and instead of a house on the castle grounds, we've got an apartment building for staff, but if you really want to leave, just come with me. I know my stables need improvement anyway."  He smiles.
" I will." You smile back at him.
After another moment of walking peacefully in silence, the two of you resume walking in the market.
You spent the next few days without Namjoon, and end up thinking a lot about what he said.
By the end of the third day, you made up your mind.
You will go with him.
Not because you're not on good terms with your ex crush anymore, but because you want to.
You want to work somewhere different, somewhere with a challenge.
And you want to stay with Namjoon.
Going with him is easier than you had expected, sure you'll have to learn the language, but finding a replacement was pretty easy as you had all the routines written down for when you were on a day off. One of your most trusted employees will take over your work, while you'll take the same position in Korea.
Your goodbyes were a little teary, but you knew that this wasn't the last time when you'd see your friends.
Your ex-crush's face was incredibly amusing to see too.
According to Namjoon, you were just as important as he is, and so you ended up in a seat on his private jet to Korea.
Winter was on another plane, but will arrive as the same time as you. ( You had to admit that you were a little unhappy with having your horse on a plane, but the drive to Korea was much longer and would be likely less comfortable for the animal anyway.)
During the plane ride, you were sat beside Namjoon in a luxe plane chair, treated as if you were royalty yourself.
Namjoon was all too happy with how you easily got along with his parents and brothers.
Once you're there, you're instantly out exploring, for the first few hours with Namjoon, and a few hours without.
You note on how bad the horses look. They look a little underfed, and unhappy too.
You're happy to know that you'll be properly taking care of them now.
The next day is directly off to work.
Where you talk with the head caretaker who's apparently very inexperienced in taking care of horses.
You're surprised that he even managed to land a job here, this high up.
Namjoon doesn't manage to talk with you for the next two weeks, as you're both pretty busy.
He's busy with classes and formal stuff, while you're busy with creating a different diets for all horses in the stables.
Some horses had too little power food, and some too much.
You have to replace a lot of horse tack too, and some horses actually need some medical treatment.
For instance, the crown prince's horse, RJ, needed quite some medical assistance. ( Which is obviously scandalous, considering it's a royal horse.)
Some of the horses the King and Queen have for guests are already too old to be riding, yet they're very high spirited, and so you choose to send them off to a horse pension.
After the second week, Namjoon tries to visit you in some of his breaks and free time, but you're still very busy.
It's around another two weeks later when things have finally calmed down for you and you visit him in his office.
The stables aren't too far off, and so you manage to locate yourself in the castle.
Though you don't really know how to go from there.
After 20 minutes of walking around aimlessly, you turn around to find someone who's able to lead the way.
" Y/N dear? Is that you?" The voice of the queen sounds from behind you.
You turn around in surprise, quickly bowing in respect before properly greeting her.
" Your majesty, how good to see you." You smile at her, talking to her as if she's an aunt of you.
" My dear, it's good to see you too. I haven't seen you in a while. Is there too much work on your shoulders to be able to breath?" She asks as she starts to stride alongside of you.
" No your majesty, things were just a bit messy but now that everything's sorted out, I can breathe again." You tell her calmly.
" Ah, I see." She smiles gently.
" How are you your majesty?  Had it busy yourself too?" You ask her.
She glances at you before answering.
" Ah, it's been a little stressful. But nothing I can't handle." She tells you honestly.
You nod along to her words.
" I can only imagine." You tell her.
" Are you busy right now?" She asks you as the two of you stop in front of a door.
" No your majesty, is there something I can do for you?" You ask her.
" Would you fancy talking to me over tea? You don't have to of course." She asks, obviously curious.
You smile and nod.
" Sure your majesty."
And so the two of you chat for another 30 minutes. Sure, you were originally going to Namjoon, but talking with his mother is certainly not bad either. Unlike the queen of your home country, Namjoon's mother is a high spirited and curious woman.
" Mother." Someone walks in and nods in greeting to the woman across from you.
"Y/N?" The same voice asks with a surprised, but gentle tone.
" Hey Joon, I was actually on my way to you before I bumped into your mother. " You smile at him.
Namjoon takes in the pleasant sight in front of him with a surprised smile. One that reaches all the way to his dimples.
It's the first time he has ever seen his mother so comfortable to be talking with another woman, not even a princess could bring her in this deep of a comfort zone.
" I assume you want to steal her away from me?" His mother smiles at him before he can actually think of a reply.
He nods.
" Yes, but I can wait if you're having fun together." He tells her.
She shakes her head with a happy smile and shoos the both of you out of the room.
" Nonsense. Have fun together."
You and Namjoon look at each other before the both of you start chuckling.
" I don't think I've ever seen my mother this comfortable around other people." He tells you with a smile.
" How so? She's a pretty fun woman." You tell him honestly.
Namjoon shrugs and holds his elbow out for you to take as he starts walking towards his office, not that you know what it means, as you are a non royal.
You walk alongside him, oblivious to the look he's giving you by not linking your arm in his.
" Not sure." He takes it upon himself to link your arm trough his.
You blush at the contact, and look puzzled at his action.
" It's a way royals usually walk together. You might've seen my parents do so before." He smiles nervously, hoping you get the hint.
He was already crushing on you, hard. But now that he sees how you get along with his family, he's sure of it. He doesn't need a princess to be happy, he needs you.
" Oh, so like this is how you'd walk with princesses and noble women?" You ask.
Namjoon wants to facepalm at your response.
" No, no- Royals walk like this with they're- You know what, nevermind, I just like to walk with you like this. Also, I don't walk like this with a lot of people." He ends up getting flustered at his own answer.
" So, how's the work at the stables going?" He asks, changing topic before you can say something about his behavior.
It works, and the two of you end up talking for the rest of the day in his office, snacking away at his secret snack stash and at some point actually having dinner there too.
" Damn, you're whipped." Are Hoseok's words the next evening.
Namjoon is currently sat with his friends ( his brothers Jin and Taehyung, the royal advisors Jimin, Yoongi and Jackson, dance teacher Hoseok and stable boy Jungkook who they grew up with)
" Yeah I know. But she only just got off an unofficial relationship, I think I need to wait before I can ask her out." Namjoon tells the rest.
" Woah, hold up, my last braincell can't understand this. Unofficial relationship?" Jungkook asks.
Namjoon nods.
" Yes, her crush turned put to be a dick-"
" Joon, I'm sorry to point it out but I get paid for it- don't cuss-" Jackson butts in.
" - they were her exact words tough." Namjoon mumbles.
" If those were her words than she'll move on pretty fast right? I mean girls cuss out their ex when they're officially done with them do they not?" Jimin wonders out loud.
" I think Joon's right, he should be patient-"
" Yoongi, do you actually know stuff about romance?-"
" Shut it brat." Yoongi cuts off Taehyung with a good natured glare.
" I can't wait to see if she stands out to the public." Jin says randomly.
All eyes turn to him, confused by his words.
" The parade is in a two weeks. Considering she's head of the stables, she'll probably be there too right. " Jin points out.
The parade which Jin was talking about is once a year every year, it's a parade in traditional style meant to not forget where the country's origin lies.
Usually Namjoon didn't really like the parade due to the old traditional music and having to sit still for hours, but if it meant that you were there too, it might be a little more bearable.
The rest of the week goes by in a wink. Everyone is mostly busy with preparations and stuff alike. You and Namjoon only have little moments in between to talk and meet up, despite living on a two minute distance. 
It isn't until two days before the parade that he has a free spot in his schedule to meet up with you. You don't have a spot free, but he's bothered you enough to know that you're usually able to talk while working.
" Hey Kook' seen Y/N around?" Namjoon asks Jungkook who's cleaning up one of the horses' their stable.
" I think we just had some stuff for the decorations on the tack in, so I think she's working with it in the tack room." He tells the elder with a smug smile before turning back to work.
And so Namjoon walks towards the tack room. While he walks by the stables, he can see the change of the horses. They look healthier, and his very own horse Koya was actually happy to see him for once ( the mare was usually in a bad mood). Winter recognized him too, and happily greeted him and both horses happily accepted the treat he had brought for them.
" Hey. Things look better here." Namjoon greets you as he walks into the tack room.
You look up from the mess you've made on the table, where an array of white, yellow, black, blue and red decorations are spread out. 
" Hey. Long time no see." You smile as you greet him with a hug.
He returns it all too easy, his nose greeted by your gentle body mist.
" So, what's this all about?" He asks, motioning to the huge amount of traditional styled tack decorations lying about.
" Decorations for the horse tack. I'm currently sorting everything out." You smile at him.
He blinks at the mess on the table.
" This is sorted out?" He asks.
" Some of it. There's the stuff for Koya by the way, the only thing missing is her norigae but I've heard that she's supposed to wear the same one as you. I was planning to go by your office to ask you for it later, but since you're here anyway...?" You tell him, pointing to the white and red tack.
" Yeah of course. Is this winter's tack?" He asks you, motioning to the yellow and black tack which is lying beside Koya's.
" Yes. I'm only missing a norigae, so I might go to the market later today." You tell him.
Namjoon's eyes shine with an idea as he hears that. Maybe he can sneakily get you to wear his custom norigae too? That way you'd both be matching in a way too.
" Hey, if you want, we can go and get the norigae right now?" He asks you, bringing his idea to life.
You look at your work in tough before nodded.
" Sure, that way Koya's tack is all complete." You smile at him as he holds out his arm to you.
This time you don't look confused, you take it.
You miss the way Jungkook's eyes widen when the two of you walk by him, you also miss the vibrant smile on Namjoon's face as he looks at Jungkook.
Instead of leading you to his office like usual, he leads you to a different part of the castle, where the royal' family's personal chambers are.
" Hey, um, are you sure that I'm allowed in here? I don't want to cause trouble." You tell him.
He nods, unlocking his door and stepping aside to let you in first.
" Yeah, it's me who you're with, so it's all cool. Also, you're allowed here always. I'll give the guards a heads up so they'll know it too. If I'm not at my office, you'll most probably find me here." He tells you as he lets go of you arm and instead laces his fingers with yours, leading the way with a gentle smile.
His quarters are bigger than your apartment in the staff building, there's a hallway, a door to the bedroom, a door to his walk in closet, a door to the bathroom and an opening to the livingroom.
" Quite a big apartment you have Joonie." You tell him as you look all over the place.
He doesn't even realize what you're saying, the only thing that reaches his ears is the nickname you've just called him by.
" Joonie?" He asks with pink ears.
You smile with a blush.
" Oh, I'm sorry, your royal highness." You tease him.
He laughs with you, and shakes his head.
" I think I like Joonie better." He winks at you before opening the door to the walk in closet, pulling you in with him.
In the room there are rows upon rows of clothing, each sectioned. There's casual, nightwear, outdoor activities, formal and traditional.
He opens one of the doors of ( what you geuss to be) a closet full with accessories.
You're not wrong, and he pulls out a wooden box with elegant carvings, putting it down on one of the dressers and opening it.
" Pick which one you think looks best by Koyas'." He tells you as he motions to the norigae in the box. Unlike the rest, there isn't a lot of it.
Koya's accessories are white and red themed, like all royal horses' are, and just to your luck, Namjoon owns one which would suit it, the design actually much the same as the Koya's actual tack.
" This one looks nice." You tell him as you point to the white and red one.
" You can take it with you, I know you're a neat person anyway." He smiles, nervous for his own question.
" Anything which you like?" He asks you, the tips of his ears turning pink once again.
You turn to look at him with wide eyes.
" What? I'm not allowed, you know?" You tell him, your eyes holding a sadness he can't explain and turning your head away from him.
" They don't need to know." He tells you softly, lifting your chin up gently.
You blush. Hard. At his actions.
You don't make a move to look at the norigae either, and so he takes it upon himself to do so.
He takes a yellow and black one and shows it to you, the decorative accessory more of an art work.
" What about this one?" He asks you.
You shake your head.
" It's too extravagant.... If you're really okay with it, can I borrow this one?" You ask him, motioning to a minimum decorated yellow one.
" Of course." He smiles as he takes that one off and the same one in black, handing both to you.
" One for your horse, and one for you." He smiles cheekily, not looking into you eyes, but instead putting both of them into your palm.
When he looks up at you again, there's a soft look in your eyes, filled with something he can't explain.
Suddenly the room's a little hot, and his hands start to feel clammy.
Were you two going to kiss?
However, he's left a little disappointed when you clear your throat, clearing the tension with it.
" I should get back to work." You say.
He snaps out of his trance and nods.
" Yeah. Same." He responds lamely.
You look at him again before making your next move.
" Thank you." You say softly as you kiss his cheek before walking away.
The small kiss on his cheek is all Namjoon can think about for the next few days, up until the day of the parade.
The day of the parade starts off hectic as per usual. 
There's Jimin and Taehyung being serious for once ( which makes them very suspicious.) There's Yoongi looking for Seokjin every five minutes, the royal advisor tired of chasing after the future king every day. And then there's Jackson who let Namjoon sleep in for a bit.
Jackson ( Namjoon's advisor) has always been able to balance everything perfectly. Today is no different. Though Namjoon wakes up fairly early, and therefore decides to start the day by himself, he does inform Jackson of where he is and what he's doing.
He knows in the back of his mind that he doesn't really need to, about everyone knows that he's at the stables if he's not in his office or private chambers.
The stables are a mess and very busy. In fact, it's so chaotic that Jungkook doesn't even realize that Namjoon's standing there, who's standing outside and readying the carriages.
It takes around 10 minutes before Jungkook actually notices the prince, who's leaning against a stable wall.
" Oh. Morning hyung. How long have you been standing there?" Jungkook greets him, bowing his head.
" Not too long. An-" 
" Y/N's at the main stables, she's was working on getting Mangs' mane braided last time I checked." Jungkook smiles at his hyung who's speechless.
" Thanks." He says puzzled.
A few minutes later he's at Mang's stable, and you appear to be working on Chimmy's braids now. There's a Bluetooth box in the corner of the stables, playing one of the many songs you've let him hear before.
In comparison to the rest of the stables, it's pretty chill here. It's just you, and a few of your coworkers, who're preparing the tack of the royal horses. Namjoon can spot the norigae you've picked out for Koya standing proud on his bearing strap.
" It seems you've got the situation under your control." Namjoon tells you, making you turn around.
At the sound of his voice, your coworkers immediately greet him with respect, and Namjoon nods his head back to each of them.
You smile and greet him with a hug.
" Yeah, we've been preparing for a week now so we didn't have to do everything last minute for a reason. How're things going in the castle?" You ask him as you move back to Chimmy, going back to braiding.
" Pretty good actually-" He's cut off by the vibrations of his own phone, and he barely excuses himself as he takes it.
" Namjoon, Where are you? I have called you six times already. Your stylist arrived ten minutes ago. Hurry up to your closet!" Jackson's voice screams trough the phone.
" Oh, um, it appears I have to go. I'll see you at the parade?" He asks.
You nod at him, and as he leaves, one of your coworkers turns to you with a silly smirk.
" So, you and prince Namjoon, huh?" He hears her teasing voice, which causes him to leave with pink ears.
The rest of the time passes by in a heartbeat, and before he knows it, he's standing in front of the castle, waving at the press and citizens.
Soon after he's with the rest of the royal family in the royal carriage, and he can see you on Winter on the side, ready to ride off with him.
He secretly wishes that you're seated right beside him, though he knows that that's for now a lot to ask.
Winter's norigae is also proudly displayed, as is yours. He's surprised at how neat Winter's posture is. The horse's head is usually held high with his ears forward, ready to explore the world. Right now his head is bent like the dressage horse he's supposed to be.
Then everyone is setting off as scheduled.
Taehyung's eyes catch someone looking rather suspicious to the side after about an hour or two.
The male was wearing all black, standing out from the colourful festive. He wasn't smiling or cheering, just stood completely still.
He looked at the figure more carefully, not wanting to create drama out of nothing.
He changed his mind as the suspicious male catches his eyes, and smirks at the prince.
He turns to Jin, who's sitting beside him, but before he's even fully turned, there's suddenly a loud bomb going off.
Everyone sets into panic, especially the horses.
Namjoon is worried about not only his people now, but especially his staff and more important to him, you.
He can only watch as the person who's driving the carriage sets the horses loose, and is left perplexed when you run after it with Winter.
And then he's demanding to get off the damn carriage because he wants to help you.
There's the distinct yelling of his title trough his mind, but he doesn't pay any mind to it. All he can focus on is helping you.
" Prince Kim Namjoon! Listen to your king and-" His father's sentence is cut off as he closes the carriage door behind him and walks off into the forest he's seen you disappear into.
He doesn't make it far into the forest before one of the guards is pulling him back to his family, who're now sitting in a bulletproof car.
"Namjoon, what are you thinking?! You've not only put yourself in danger by stepping out of the carriage but us too! Not to mention the citizens. What's wrong with you?!" His father screams at him in anger.
Seokjin and Taehyung are worried upon looking at the panicked look on their brother's face.
"She's out there."
His mother understands what's happening by hearing that sentence.
He's in love with you.
His father gets it too, and sighs before looking at his wife, both of them sharing worried glances.
His father panics, and decides that Namjoon is to stay in his chambers for the rest of the night.
Instead Namjoon sneaks out, making his way to the staff dorms. He halts at the door, not sure on which number to ring.
After all, he's never been at your place.
Luckily for him, one of the maids who just finished her shift spotted him, and asks him if she can help him.
" Any idea what Y/N L/N's house number is?" He asks her sheepishly.
She smiles and nods.
" Yes, but if you're looking for her, She's still at the stables, inspecting the horses." She tells him.
He blinks at her before thanking her and running off.
It's around 23' at night now, and the incident was around 17' in the afternoon.
Worry fills his eyes as he spots you in the stables.
You're now talking with the horses' vet, but your clothes have blood on them.
He's got no idea if it's yours or the horses, but he just hopes that it's neither.
He hears you and the vet greet each other a goodbye and rushes to your side.
" Hey, are you okay?" Is the first thing that he asks you.
You jump as you turn around, your tired eyes making contact with his.
" Woah, you scared me there. And yeah, I'm fine, just a few scratches." You wave him off, though the blood on your shirt tells him another story.
It's not seeping through dramatically, it's mostly dry, but Namjoon can't help but worry as your undershirt is matted with dirt and there's lines of blood on it too, as tough You've been cut.
" Are you sure that it doesn't hurt? We can take you to the doctor in the castle? I'm sure he won't mind-" 
" I'm fine Joon, honestly. The cuts aren't something I can't treat myself." You smile at him tiredly yet in a reassuring way, something that touches his heart.
" Thank god. Also, why're you still here? Are the horses injured?" He asks you.
You sigh and nod, walking over to Rj's stable.
" Some yeah. Especially Rj, he's always been a bad jumper, especially today when he ended up stuck on a fallen tree trunk. And it was about 19' when I had managed to get all the horses with the rest of the staff. I dismissed them all after that and decided to help the vet myself." You tell Joon as you look at the white horse who's leaning heavily on three of his legs, the fourth being stitched and bandaged.
" You didn't even eat dinner yet?" He asks, eyes wide.
You shrug and nod.
" Yeah, but it's fine, don't worry about it. Now if you don't mind, I really want to go home. So I'll be locking up the stables, if you still want to talk, feel free to come with me to my humble home." You tell him as you collect your stuff and turn towards the entrance.
He's quick to catch up to you, wordlessly taking your stuff for you.
Moments later he's stood in the kitchen, exploring your cabinets on what to make you while you're in the shower.
You've told him to make himself comfortable while you'd freshen up, but he wants to make you something so you didn't have to make yourself dinner.
However, Joon can't cook, as he has never been taught. From the three princes, only the eldest knows how to.
And so he ends up following a recipe, which doesn't turn out great either.
And so when you step out of the shower, you hurry to the kitchen due to the smell of fire.
You're very surprised to see the prince just standing there, in front of the stove, looking more confused than panicked.
He's scratching the back of his head and you hear him mumbling "Is it supposed to smell like this?"
His question is quickly answered by you hastily turning off the stove and turning on the extractor.
" You don't cook very often do you?" You ask him dryly, folding your arms over one another.
He's lowkey disappointed by his failure of being husband material, and it shows on his face.
" Sorry. I wanted to make you dinner so you wouldn't have to after such a long day." He tells you guiltily with a small pout, which turns you soft.
You smile at him due to his antics.
" That's real sweet, but I was planning on simple ramen." You tell him.
And so the two of you end up making ramen together ( as he's very set on letting you do as little as possible.)
About thirty minutes later, the two of you are seated on the sofa, each a bowl of ramen in your grasp as he's looking for a good movie, and a blanket thrown over your laps. 
The distance between you two is smaller than it's appropriate for a prince and his staff member, and you both love it.
Moments later, the two of you are done with dinner, and Namjoon watches worriedly as you sleepily blink at the screen and keep switching positions, unable to find a comfortable one.
" You know, if you're uncomfortable, you can lean on me, I don't mind."
The words leave his mouth before he can think about it twice.
No words leave your mouth before you're snuggling against him, legs thrown over the couch, folded sideways, blanket pulled up to your chin and your head resting on his shoulder.
He's only too happy with your reaction, and wraps an arm around you in response, pulling you even closer.
The two of you watch most of the unimportant movie in silence, until Namjoon hears your light snores.
The sight that greets him makes him just realize how deep in he is once again.
You're literally drooling on his shirt, yet he still finds your visuals pleasing to the eye.
He's whipped and he knows it.
He turns off the tv before moving you to the bedroom.
He really didn't plan to sleep over, but once he's dropped you off on your bed, ( literally, almost falling on top of you himself) you don't let go of him.
And so he just sleeps over, and he's happy he came in sweats and a sweater.
The next morning, you wake up without an alarm, you wake up in the prince's arms.
Which leaves you very flustered.
Because as far as you're concerned, you're supposed to take the morning shift at the stables today.
The first thing you do is check your phone, something you haven't done since you called the vet for the horses.
You're greeted by kind messages of the other staff from the stables, and they let you have a day off as you were working from 6 am to 11 pm yesterday.
And so you set on making breakfast.
Meanwhile Namjoon's slowly waking up in your room.
Luckily for him, he's off duty until around 15', and it's now about 10'.
Pleased with the time, he reaches out for you, only to realize that you're not there.
He's not really in the mood to stay lazy in bed, and so he comes to join you in the kitchen.
The sight that greets him there makes him feel fuzzy, again.
You're not even doing anything specific, just flipping pancakes while you're wearing this huge shirt and sweats, your hair pulled up in the most unorganized bun he's ever seen.
But he loves it. He really does.
" Morning." He murmurs lowly in your ear as he hugs you from behind in greeting.
You jump, but relax soon after.
" Morning sleepyhead. Slept well?" You ask him.
He smiles.
" I did but when I woke up you weren't there anymore." He pouts.
Meanwhile his parents were figuring out on what to do.
" Well, what do you suggest? Our boy is in love. And what's wrong with that? She's a nice woman." The queen tells her husband as they're talking in one of the yards, enjoying the weather.
"Of course there's nothing wrong with that, but she's a peasant. He'd be breaking tradition, and I don't want anyone using that against him, nor do I want someone to use the woman's former title against her." The king tells her.
His wife looks at him in surprise.
"You don't have anything against her?"
" Of course not honey, why would I?" The king asks her.
" You didn't really seem to like her in the carriage ride." She tells him pointedly.
"  I admit, I had to think about it, but she's indeed nice. and Namjoon's obviously in love with her." The king said with a small smile.
" Then I suggest we let it be up to him."
When Joon came back home, a fortunate surprise was waiting for him, the 'okay' of his parents.
When he heard so, he was shook, but happy out of his mind.
Soon his group of friends knew it, and not too long after, his staff too (though they lowkey were already).
Next up he started planning everything out, and with everything, I mean like too much.
He's starting to think about on how to ask you, and on what to wear, whenether to take you on a date or straight up ask you out.
It's not until a few days later that he admits his feelings.
The two of you are simply cuddled up together, doing absolutely nothing, simply talking about life and complaining about Yoongi's horse riding skills.
It's already late at night, and it only settles the mood.
It doesn't go according to plan though, instead of being cute and asking you out with a fancy sign and everything, the two are laid on the couch, you in his arms as the two of you lay saggedly against one another. And he literally goes;
" Did you know that I have the biggest crush on you?"
It's not planned, he didn't even mean to say it.
It just happened.
All you did was laugh at a really bad joke he made, and it just came out.
He blushed hard, as you now get up to face him.
" Wait, are you serious?" You ask him, eyes wide.
He swallows, and stays silent, not entirely sure on what to say. It takes him a moment before he answers.
" I, uhm, yeah. I do."
He says it so cutely you have to keep yourself from chuckling at him.
He adjusts his position, now sitting up too, except he's leaning his back against the couch.
You don't take too long to respond, instead being pretty quick.
" You mean, I could've asked you out a whole while earlier, and you would've said yes?" You ask him.
He nods, at first normally, softly, then suddenly vigorously.
" Of course I would! Have you seen yourself? You're one heck of a woman!" He exclaims.
Now it's your turn to blush.
" Okay, uhm, wait- I know this pick up line and- I think you got your pronouns wrong, instead of he/him it should be you're/mine." You pop suddenly adding to the moment.
Joon laughs at that, throwing his head back.
He bites his lip once he's calmed down again.
" I mean, I guess you're right. In a way.- Mind if I kiss you?" 
The two of you are suddenly moving fast, very fast, but neither of you are bothered.
The two of you have been good friends since a while back anyway, and this really didn't bother either of you.
You've simply waited way too long for each other either way, it appeared.
" Oh, yes. Please do-" 
You can barely finish, before he's pressing his lips to yours.
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yes-another-obey-me-blog · 4 years ago
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Can I request MC being overwhelmed by the brothers fighitng and slowly trying to sink under the table when Solomon comes in like a prince to whisk them away, effectively pissing off the brothers as well
Shure thing!  
TW: Panic attack.
GN reader/MC.
A/N The Mc doesn't have pacts with the bros yet.  Also a little different from your request, sorry.
It was too loud, all voices bounced around the meeting hall echoing and a defining anthem of accusations, frustration, and threats effectively gluing you to your seat.  Diavolo had to step out for just a moment to retrieve some papers left in his office and when that door closed all hell broke loose.
"I still don't see why I have' ta be some damn baby sitter!"  Mammon slammed his hands on the table.  "If you want the human protected so bad why don't you just do it your self!"  He pointed his finger at Lucifer who was somehow still keeping his cool but his aura was suffocating.
"I'm far to busy helping Diavolo to be bothered to watch them, that's why it's your job."  Lucifer seethed crossing his arms and shooting a glare at Mammon.   Of course, they're talking about you as if you're not present, as if your bother that was shoved onto them.  Well, now that you think about it that's not too far off.  You're a magicless human in a world full of demons that could kill you in seconds, of course, no one wants to deal with that kind of burden.
"Levi is a shut-in that can't take care of himself!  The human would die in his care!  Asmo is a party animal that only thinks of getting his dick wet!"
Mammon snarled "If its a job then why ain't I gettin paid!"
"I'm your brother, I don't need to pay you." Lucifer hissed.  But, Mammon still persisted.
"Why not Levi or Asmo!"  he screamed, "How about Satan, what about Beel?  Fuck if Belphie was here I'd even ask him!"  It was at this point Lucifer lost his temper and shifted to demon form.  His hands slamed on the table as he stood, the flare of his wings knocking you to the side. If the eldest noticed he didn't show it.  You scooted away from the raging demon and whimpered, looking for a place to hide, anywhere that would make you feel safe.
"I know I'm a shut-in but you don't need to scream about how pathetic and gross I am!  Levi had now shifted, his tail thrashing wildly knocking chairs over.  Luckily you evaded the flying chair and made it under the table.
"How rude!  Are you trying to slut-shame me Lucifer!"  Asmo now shifted his nails digging into the table "I'll have you know my lifestyle is none of your business!"
"YOU TWO BE SILENT!" Lucifer roared.  You covered your ears and whimpered, where was Diavolo?
"Satan would end up losing his temper and killing them!" The fourth brother cut in his tail unraveled from his leg.
-Meanwhile with Solomon-  
Solomon was halfway back to purgatory dorm when he felt Asmo's pact flare-up.  There were a few things that made the seal light up, one he was horny, two Asmo was horny, he was giving Asmo power or Asmo was pissed.  With a sigh, he looked at the pact expecting to see that Asmo was in the mood but was shocked when he saw the pact.  The mark was a bloody pink and glowed with a fury Asmo was pissed about something and if it was bad enough for his demon form to come out it must be pretty bad.  Solomon let out a sigh and continued to walk to his dorm, already giving up his night to lessen to the demon vent about it later tonight unless he vents to Mc.  He smirked at the thought, poor Mc, stuck listening to a blubbering angry Asmo poor, poor Mc.  Where is Mc any way?  They normally walk this way so he normally sees them except when they have student council meet- Solomon's stomach dropped and he froze in place.  Asmo's on the student council, and if he pissed then that means- "Oh fuck." Solomon dropped his back and sprinted back towards RAD.
-Back to Mc-    
"Your one to talk about losing your temper!"  You heard the crash of a chair being smashed to pieces.  Your breathing started to pick up when Beel knelt down and was trying to get you out from under the table.  The only one still in human form.  You just curled up in a tighter ball, seeing that you wouldn't move on your own Beel reached out and grabbed you pulling you up.  You let out a small screech and Beel mumbled quick apologizes even in the mists of chaos still trying to be kind.
"Beel would eat them if he had the chance!"  You flinched at Lucifer's words but Beel didn't seem fazed he only shook his head at you letting you know he wouldn't.  Beel started to drag you to the door you couldn't hear what Lucifer screamed out about the final brother but that seemed to bring Beel to his boiling point.  He let go of your arm and shifted you started to back up agest the wall slowly sinking down.
"You know I could just eat you instead and be done with this!"  Beel bellowed his wings on full display in a challenging position.  Lucifer seethed even more approaching Beel with a growl.  
You couldn't hear what they were saying, Levi and Mammon were yelling and holding Beel back.  Asmo was trying to calm Lucifer down but was failing miserably and Satan was trying to pull Mammon and Levi off Beel so he could attack Lucifer.  You were sobbing violently at this point you wanted to go home, you wanted to get away from these demons, this was all too much!  You jumped when you felt someone grab your arm and screamed and started hitting them until you saw it was Solomon panting, red in the face his RAD jacket gone, and hair a mess.  You reached out for him and he pulled you close.
Seconds felt like minutes and minutes felt like hours and the brothers raged on until the council door slammed open.  Diavolo flanked by Barbados walked in both wearing a look of utter disappointment.  The brothers froze and fell silent, the only thing heard in the room was your sobbing and breathing.  Diavolo walked slowly towards you both but was stopped by the barrier.  "Solomon could you take this down please."  Diavolo's normally echoing voice was a whisper.
"Can you make them stop?!" You wailed.  Solomon tucked your head under his chin and shook his head.
"I only have a Pact with Asmo if I try to stop him now things could get worse between Lucifer and Beel."  You sobbed harder and he pulled you closer and put up a defensive barrier.  He wanted to do more but he couldn't carry you out, he'd just spritted the whole way here.  There was no way he could walk you out with the way objects are being thrown, it's a medical none of them hit you.  This was all he could do, hold you, and keep a barrier up and speak words of comfort.
Solomon shook his head.   "Not till they switch back."  Solomon's voice was firm and unyielding.  Diavolo waited for a second then snapped.
"What are you seven waiting for you heard him."  His voice was level but he was close to losing control of himself.  The brothers shifted back and Solomon dropped the barrier, your sobs could be heard at full force.  Solomon took to rubbing your back and sushing you trying to get your breathing steady.  "Solomon," he looked at Diavolo, "Take Mc to purgatory dorm and notify Simeon on what has happened.  They will be in your care until further notice."  Solomon nodded and helped you to your shakey legs and started to walk you out of the destroyed room, Barbados following close behind.  Before you, both left Solomon looked over his shoulder and saw that Diavolo had shifted and was breathing quickly.  His own rage rolling off him in waves.
"It's best if you both get to dorm quickly,"  Solomon looked at Barbados, "My lord is trying very hard to hold back his rage until your both out of RAD, his yells can cause humans to lose their hearing.  So, Solomon, I give you this before you go."  Barbados's pact lit up and Solomon felt power flow into him all his strength and energy returned.  "Do hurry now, My Lord is about to blow."  With that Barbados shut and locked the door and, with Solomon's newly replenished energy and strength he quickly carried you out of RAD and to Purgatory dorm.
He passed Simeon and Luke and took you to his room and set you on the bed.  He really wasn't sure what to do, its been a long time since he's comforted, someone.   He looked so lost, you opened your arms and looked at him, hoping to get your message across.  With a small smile, he climbed in bed and held you till you fell asleep.  With you nuzzled up to his chest he made a promise to protect you and with a kiss to your forehead he sealed that promise.        
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nerevar-quote-and-star · 3 years ago
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do you think the companions have a closet of like. flea and tick preventing stuff/medicine somewhere
Imagine someone opens that closet and they don’t know about the werewolf thing and they ask someone “hey why do we have all this dog stuff??? Where are the dogs???”
Hey, not only do I think that, I think it's entirely possible that they have their own mini veterinary closet, including the dog treats. The dog treats are the most important.
I'd like to thank you, though, because as soon as I read this ask, my mind start buzzing, or yipping, as the little dogs, might, and, well. . .
Chasing Tails, or Why is the Circle Like This?
Lucia's sure taking a long time . . .
Lars fidgeted in his seat at the end of the table, casting his eyes once again to the stairwell that led down to the Companions' living quarters. It wasn't the first time he'd sat around their hearth to wait on his best friend and it definitely wouldn't be the last, he was sure, but he always felt a little nervous sitting by himself as large warriors with huge blades went about their business around him. Eating, drinking, laughing . . . wrestling. The first time he'd seen Lucia's papa and uncle get into an all out brawl there on the hearth stones, he'd had the shakes until long after his grandma tucked him into bed.
A thud on the table startled the boy from his thoughts. "Here, kid, watch this for me, will you?" Lars stared wide-eyed as Ria, who was generally the nicest out of all the Companions — aside from Lucia, who insisted she was one despite only being ten — darted back up the steps and out the double doors to the Winds District. Not a moment later, the doors from the training yard banged open as Njada Stonearm — who was definitely the meanest Companion — barged in, eyes aflame like the hearth. Lars shrank back in his seat.
"Ria!" her voice echoed above the crack of the fire and the murmur of a few others talking across the room.
"Not here," called Athis, snickering.
"Jus' missed 'er," slurred Torvar.
A growl left the Nord woman's throat as her eyes swivelled round and landed on Lars, who was peaking out from behind the large satchel Ria'd left on the table. The boy's eyes bulged in horror as she took three long strides and arrived beside him, arms crossed under a face painted with a harsh scowl.
(Sometimes, a lot of times, Lars wished he was brave enough to ask Njada Stonearm to beat up Braith, but he had the feeling she'd either laugh him off — or worse, encourage the Redguard girl to redouble her efforts to kick his—)
"—dumped this here, huh?"
"W-wha—"
A hand, large and strong enough to crush his skull, shook the bag in front of him. "Ria left this here, didn't she?"
"Ye-yeah—"
"Quit mumbling!"
"Y-yes sir, I, I mean ma'am!"
If anyone ever looked absolutely done with the world, it was Njada Stonearm in that moment. Lars squirmed under her glare, but said no more, and the Nord woman grumbled under her breath. "I've gotta hunt down that rabbit brained . . ." she trailed off, eyeing Lars with a cold interest. "You. Take this downstairs and put it in the Circles' supply closet."
Lars tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry, and he let out a strangled cough instead. He choked a gasp when Njada Stonearm thumped him on the back. "Get going, kid," she said as she turned on her heel and marched out the same doors Ria fled through earlier.
With shaking legs, Lars got to his feet and hefted the satchel into his arms. There was a faint clink! clink! of glass, and he wondered if it was some kind of fancy reserve just for the Circle. He knew Lucia's mama was fond of Imperial brandies, so maybe that was it?
He crossed the hall, an easy task as Athis and Torvar promptly went back into their cups once Njada Stonearm had redirected her ire to Lars and so they didn't bother him. It was when he got to the stairs that the wobble in his knees became a full shake. Braith often told him he was infected with the Rattles and no one bothered telling him because it was more fun to watch him convulse like a half dead draugr. Sometimes, like right now for instance, he almost believed her.
One of the men barked a laugh, Lars wasn't sure which, but it jarred his limbs into motion; he eased his way down the wooden stairs, scared every moment that he'd trip, fall, and anger not only Njada Stonearm, but the whole Circle as well. His heart lodged in his throat. If he broke the bottles and made a mess of their contents, would he ever be allowed back in Jorrvaskr? Would he ever get to play with Lucia again?
The heavy door into the basement quarters was an almost reassuring barrier to the boy as he aligned his back with it, arms full of the satchel's awkward bulk. With a grunt, he thrust back, and the door creaked slowly open. When it was wide enough, he slipped around the dense oak, and once again hesitated. Now where? He didn't actually know where the Circles' supply closet was. Though, he thought, shifting from foot to foot with the wide hall empty before him, it might be down near the Circles' private quarters.
The supply closet wasn't really the difficult to find, being one of the few closed doors at the end. The other was the door to the Harbinger's room, but that'd been shut for months since . . . Lars swallowed, coughed again, and with the bag balanced precariously in one arm under his chin, he opened the door.
"What're you doing?"
"Gah!" Lars teetered forward, and if it weren't for Lucia's hand clenching the back of his shirt, he'd have fallen face first into—
"Um, better question: why do your parents' have a closet full of pet care products?" Lars asked, once he was steady on his feet and able to take in the concents of the supply closet.
Beside him, Lucia's face scrunched in clear confusion. Shelves on shelves of bottles, bright yellow and each marked with a label depicting some kind of nasty insect underneath a vivid red X, filled the majority of their vision. Lars' arms almost went slack under the weight of the bag. Was he carrying more of that stuff? Flea and tick repellent? Below the shelves was a stack of huge sacks that smelled a little too strongly of dried meat. Was that—?
"What's all this for?"
Lars gaped at Lucia. "You mean, you don't know?"
She shook her head, teeth gnawing her lip.
"Lucia? Lass, what are you doing in the closet?"
The two kids whirled around to find Lucia's uncle striding down the hall toward them. In a blur, Lucia sprinted to him, and, grabbing at his gauntlet clad arm, hung on for dear life. "Uncle Vilkas! Uncle Vilkas! Did you know about the pet medicine? Are those bags full of doggy treats? Oh! Is Mama getting me a puppy? Is that why she left for Markarth yesterday? Is she getting me a war dog so I can take him with me when I'm doing contracts? I've always wanted a puppy! The Circle always goes and visits the Jarl's kennels and I never get to go!"
"What—"
"I mean, why else do Mama and Papa always smell like they've been rolling around in a dog bed whenever they come back in before breakfast? Or when they're sneaking in during the middle of the night? Or when—"
"Lucia! What are you talking about, lass?" Vilkas, at last, cut in.
"Oh! Well, I was consalt— consulk—"
"Consulting," her uncle supplied.
"Yeah, consulting my beasty, beast, uh, animal guide before I came looking for Lars 'cause we're gonna go hunt goblins in his mom's vegetable garden when I found him in the Circles' closet, which I thought was weird because I thought this was where Papa was hiding Mama's New Life present — so maybe Papa is getting Mama the puppy? — but I didn't get to ask Lars why 'cause he was about to crash into the shelves, and then I'd have had to help him clean up the mess, and I'd rather go hunt the goblins than do chores, so . . ." Lucia rambled on, fast as a dartwing. All the while Vilkas nodded along to what she said, before at length raising a hand to hush her, his pale eyes resting on Lars. The young boy felt his knees start to wobble again.
"What's this, then?" Vilkas gestured to the bag.
"Uh, Njada Stonearm sent me down with it, sir. She um, she said to bring it to the Circles' supply closet . . ." By the end, Lars could barely hear his own voice, but whatever he heard seemed to placate Vilkas. The man took the satchel from Lars', the boy's thin arms falling limp with relief.
"I'll take care of this, Battle-Born. Lucia, you two run along," he said, holding the bag as easy in one hand as one might hold an apple. Lars couldn't help but feel a little envy at the dark warrior's ease and strength.
"Wait," Lucia's fingers twisted together around the hilt of her wooden sword. Lars hadn't even noticed she'd brought it. "I don't understand though! Is it a puppy? Is it Mama's? Will she share him? Uncle—"
Vilkas laughed. Lars never really heard the man laugh before. It was different from his brother's: deeper, richer, almost wolfish, whereas Farkas' laughter was a booming bark. The boy's brow creased at the comparisons, his eyes traveling to the inside of the closet again. There was more in there beside pet medicine and dog food, but before he could read anymore labels, Lucia's uncle shut the door and was ushering them down the hall a moment later.
"You'll know soon enough, lass. One day, when you're in the Circle yourself," he was saying.
"In the Circle? Myself?" Lucia's eyes glittered.
"Aye," Vilkas nodded. He pulled the basement door open and waved them up the stairs. "Then, and not a moment before. And lass?"
"Yes, Uncle?"
"While you're out hunting goblins, keep the little Battle-Born out of too much trouble, will you? Lad needs someone looking out for him." Lucia was already halfway up the stairs, but Vilkas could still reach to ruffle her dark ashy hair, and the girl preened under the attention.
Lars shifted about in embarrassment, but the Companion ignored him.
The two were halfway to his mother's garden, Lucia delivering a flash lecture on the nature of goblins, when a thought struck Lars, hitting him right between the eyes like Braith often did.
If the Companions didn't have any dogs, then why did he hear howling echo from Jorrvaskr at night?
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