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phantomphangphucker · 7 months ago

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Phic Phight - The Little Toaster Who Could, Is An Asshole

@lovelyunknown @princessfanonanona @fangirlwriting-stories @fentoaster @axion-labs @turtlesnails @littlebadger

Toaster powers go! Terrorise the half-dead teen that hates toast! He deserves it! According to Wes at least.

Wes glares at Danny, Danny stares back in unbridled glee.

Wes flips him off, Danny flips him off right back… before doing double finger guns and sticking out his tongue.

Wes slams down the notebook he’d been using in an attempt to ‘write down’ his ‘proof’, not that written shit counted for shit with any of this shit, pointing aggressively at Danny; Danny points at himself too just very mockingly.

“Would you two stop making all my staff laugh? They have jobs to do and you’re half way to me just kicking you out”.

Wes rounds on the manager or owner lady, “but he is dead! He threw eggs at me! Invisible eggs!”.

Danny’s grin from the front doorway is a bit manic, “where would I even get invisible eggs! Huh Wes! Ever think about that one!”.

“Fuck you!”.

“Fuck yourself!”.

“You dated a damn harpy!”.

“Are you saying I unalived my own eggs!”.

“Why are you censoring yourself!”.

“Because you’re a weak little baby boy bitch!”.

“We are the SAME AGE!”.

“Say that to time daddy’s face! I dare you!”.

The owner lady throws her hands up, snapping, “out! Get out!”, at Wes.

Wes looks afronted, because he is, “what? Just me?!”, gesturing at Danny aggressively, “him????”.

She sighs, “he’s not actually inside my store, you are. Out”. She’s thankfully when Wes actually leaves, even if the teen hurls his ‘research’ at the Fenton boy first and runs after the Fenton kid when said Fenton starts sticking the notebook in his mouth and shaking his head back and forth like a feral dog.

There was something very wrong with both of those boys. Something very very wrong. The Fenton boy was definitely not dead though, that would be far too normal for a Fenton so unhinged.

Wes grabs the end of his notebook, Danny does not stop shaking his head though, resulting in Wes’s lanky ass getting flung and smacked around. Danny intentionally makes his mouth frothy for added rabies effect. Making Wes have to shake off, and pull a tooth out of, his notebook once he does successfully rip it out of Danny’s mouth. “Your existence is a crime and affront to god”.

Danny open mouth grins cheerily, “I thought I already established that the day I was reborn into death”.

Wes immediately writes that ‘quote’ down in his book.

Danny stares judgingly, “are you writing all my word weavy bullshit down? Really? That’s kinda sad, man”.

Wes scowls back, “that’s the thirty-second different way you’ve described being dead, one day that will add up and people won’t be able to deny me”.

“You’re gonna be great for my Wikipedia article one day, when you work for me as my maid”.

“Fuck you”.

“It’s still easier for you to fuck yourself you know”.

Wes tackles him, “oh how I wish someone else had to see you and your bullshit!”.

Danny scowls with feeling, slapping Wes a couple of times as they roll around on the ground getting muddy as fuck since it was raining out, “why would you say that! The curs-ed word! Banishment to the sinner! Boo!”.

“BOO YOURSELF!”.

“HOW DARE YOU! THAT’S MY LINE!”.

“YOU STARTED IT, I’LL FINISH IT!”.

“YOU CAN’T FINISH THE EXISTENCE OF A PHRASE YOU DIPSHIT!”.

“JUST LIKE YOU COULDN'T FINISH OFF YOURSELF PROPERLY!”.

Danny snarls, “I’m going to break you like a toothpick”, and pins Wes down using more arms than humanly possible.

Wes wishes he had his camera.

Wes does not have his camera.

At least Danny’s stupid ass ain’t heavy enough to break his ribs. “You weigh less than a bag of potatoes, go ahead and try”.

Now if Wes was a ghost, and thus could just reform a torn off limb, Danny would actually break his arm. But Wes is human and thus can’t do that. Meaning Danny can’t do that to him. Oh the woes of being morally in the right. If Wes were Vlad and a billionaire then Danny’d just burn down his house in recompense. Is he mentally using the word wildly wrong? Mostly likely, shut up Jazz.

Besides, Vlad would take the arson as a compliment and praise him.

Wes huffs, tired, “are you going to clean me off or not?”. Danny smirks and turns the teen intangible, all the muck falling through the teen… as well as all of his clothing except his underwear. Danny running off immediately while sticking his tongue out and cackling; all while Wes is scrambling up off the ground, wadding his re-soaked muddy clothes up, and hurling them after Danny.

They nail Danny in the head, making the stupid half-ghost face-plant into a streetlight. Wes shouting, “HA!”.

But Danny scrambles up himself, grabs the clothing, and holds them above his head, “mine now bitch! THE SPOILS OF WAR BELONG TO THE VICTOR!”.

Leaving Wes huffing, panting, by himself, slowly realizing that now he has to walk home muddy and practically naked… “Zone DAMN IT PHANTOM!”.

Danny, in distance, can be heard shouting, “GET WRECKED!”, by more than a handful of people. Everyone and their mother knowing that means the Fenton and Weston kids had gone at it again.

Danny floats down through the rarely used ‘attic’ grinning to himself, he felt like he accomplished a lot today. Looking around for an empty box, he is absolutely packaging up Wes’s clothes -without washing them- and mailing them through the post back to him. They were gonna be rank when the guy opened it up. Ha! What fun!

Transforming back as he finds a suitable box and some packing tape; dropping the clothing in unceremoniously with a feral grin.

Unfortunately it looks like today’s tomfuckery wasn’t quite done with him, as a voice he’s never heard (he thinks) shouts, “oh what the freshy fruity fuck!”.

Danny jumping up and spinning around, right, fuck, Wes saying a stupid wish. Fucking asshole! He should know better! And of course Danny would have been too distracted tormenting Wes to have noticed his ghost sense going off. Ancients end him entirely.

Thing is though? There’s no one. Like, actually no one, “what the?”. Oh is someone spying on him again? Someone who’s not Vlad?

And whom probably doesn’t have positive-ish motives for it?

That would be his luck after all.

The voice pipes back up again, “how the Hell do I! Me! Find this massive crap out! Are you always so pissy wissy with your shitty shit!”.

Danny starts pushing stuff around to figure out where the Zone the Voice is coming from.

It’s…

It’s a fucking toaster???

A TOASTER?????

The toaster seems disgruntled, the toaster flings itself at Danny’s face.

Danny promptly swats it into a wall.

Why is a toaster talking to him? How is a toaster talking to him? It attacked him! Sure that last part wasn’t super weird since Technus assaulted him with random appliances all the time, but still.

“Oh cool, a wall, as if being a toaster wasn’t hard enough”.

“Why are you talking?! How!”.

The toaster flops from side to side in a weird version of walking at Danny vaguely aggressively, “oh you know, only your happy pappy toasterifying me for the fuckin’ lolly lols or some somersault shit”, it uses its cord to throw a picture frame vaguely in Danny’s direction. Apparently the toaster had some pent up rage.

Fair.

So did Danny.

Danny side steps the picture frame, “and when did he do this? How even? You are like a whole ass person in there?”.

The toaster seems infuriated, slapping its cord around, “of course I am, numbnuts! I wasn’t born as no tinker toy bullshit! Who the fuck would give birth to a toaster!”, the toaster spits toast at him.

Danny is highly offended. He really hates toast.

Like if the universe had created one true evil it would be in the form of toast and only toast. Always toast. “Don’t spit toast at me! You absolute heathen!”.

“I’ll spit what I diddly darn wanna! Fuck you! I’m your upperclassman any ways, Fenton! So deally wheelly!”.

Oh ancients his dad turned one of his classmates into a fucking toaster. A toaster that’s spitting more roasted toast at him likely out of spite. Danny impales a piece into the wall with an ice spear.

The toaster snares, “don’t abuse my creations!”.

“Like Hell I won’t! Fuck toast!”, Danny tries tackling the toaster, it uses its cord to grab on to a lamp and effectively flee from Danny’s would be constrictive grasp. Danny shouting, “do you want to be detoasted or not!”.

“Oh it’s too late for that, you douchey canoey! Your poopy poppy sold that ‘ish to a Cullen Family wannabe actor with rich sauce for flavouring!”

Fucking Vlad! Ancients. Danny swears that, the sometimes vaguely evil, ‘mentor’/‘uncle’ of his gets into more weird shit than Danny did. And Danny’s the one who more or less infected an entire town with death, so that’s a feat and a half. Danny grinning, “I know that cash money bitch, I can take you there if you!”, another piece of toast is fired off, “just!”, more toast spit, “stop!”, again! Toast!, “assaulting!”, more toast, “me!”, you guessed it! Toast, “with!”, annnnnnd TOAST, “toast!”.

The toaster growls, it sounds like the metal shit inside it is clanging around violently, but Danny does manage to tackle it and walk through the attic wall all while holding it at arms length like it’s a bomb.

More than a couple people see the Fenton boy just… walking down the street screaming shrieking practically incoherently at a toaster he’s holding as far away from himself as possible; the toaster is firing toast haphazardly into the air and shaking wildly every so often… as if there’s some kind of demonic possession fuelled conversation going on.

Absolutely no one approaches to ask. And that was only partly because a random construction worker got thrown by the toaster cord at one point.

One person did shout, “watcha got there?!?”, at the teen though. Who had just responded with, “A SMOOTHIE! AN ANGRY TOAST SMOOTHIE!”.

Wes saw a video of it, Wes cackled meanly. He might have had an embarrassing walk home but at least he had a new phone background photo.

Danny hurls the toaster at the door in lieu of knocking, at least his coordination does not suck and he catches the toaster as it bounces back at him. The toaster shrieking, “I will bake you like a crispy spaghetti bolognese!”.

“Are you a fucking toaster or an oven!”.

“I’m a McHeaty McMaddy bitch either way!”.

Vlad opens the door with, “‘Maddie’?”, he is clearly extremely confused.

Danny grumbling, figures, “of course you heard the ‘maddy’ part and no not mom, this thing just speaks like a fucking lunatic”, and practically shoves the toaster at Vlad’s chest, “here, I… I need your help. I have a sentient toaster, that knows I’m vaguely dead-ish, ‘cause I do not look out for fucking toasters when transforming and shit”.

The toaster vibrates against Vlad’s chest and fancy suit, “then you’re a stupidy stopidy bibidy bopidy fool!”. Vlad looks offended.

Fucking good, honestly. Danny huffing and continuing like he hadn’t been interrupted, “and apparently Jack toasterified this toaster that used to not be a toaster and instead be a person, and apparently mailed a ‘Cullen Family actor wannabe with rich sauce for flavouring’ -which must be you- the invention dad did this with because he no longer, and I quote, ‘trusty-wustied him selfie-welfie’. Please tell me you have more tolerance for toaster spit than I do”.

Vlad sighs heavily, it’s both fond and annoyed. The man lets him and the toaster in at least.

Of course then the toaster instantly flees from his grasp. Like a dick.

Both him and Vlad just watch the thing fling itself around the mansion with its cord and ‘feet’. Vlad blinking, “this is somehow the strangest thing I’ve ever had to help you with”.

“I know right?”.

…”why is it a toaster?”, the toaster attempts to toast some of Vlad‘s paperwork, it unfortunately works. “I’ll admit to not believing that odd letter Jack sent about making a teenage toaster, I regret that decision deeply”.

“That’s fair”.

They both have to rush to put out the fire the toaster’s started, Danny shouting, “there is something seriously wrong with you!”.

“I’VE BEEN A TOASTER FOR A YEAR! HOW WOULD YOU FUCKY WHUCKY FEELY ABOUT THAT!”.

Danny nods acceptingly while chasing the thing, “I’d cry”. It’s true. He would.

Vlad actually laughs while helping with the chase, “yes the horror of being something that near exclusively creates your one true hate and fear”.

“Says the alcoholic!”.

“I thought you liked drinking with me?”.

Danny stops and shrugs at the man, “I mean yeah, but you kinda got a bit of an issue that we should probably sort out some day”, eyeing the toaster sucking in one of the portraits Vlad had done of them together. Vlad was going to kill this toaster at this rate, and fuck Danny might let him. “Preferably not now though, Sweet Ancients”.

Vlad hits the toaster with a broom, “bad! No! You spit that out right now!”.

“It’s not a cat, Vlad”.

“Well then it should not behave like one”.

The toaster escapes from the broom, knocking over a fancy glass top table shaped like a jaguar.

Danny grumbling and slipping on some glass, “at least it can’t vomit a painting up like a fucking hairball!”.

“I would absolutely make you clean that up, consider it a lesson on responsibility”.

“I do enough chores at home, Vladdie!”.

“And how many times have I offered to come and help?”.

“And how many times have I told you the labs too dangerous?”. Danny glares at the toaster as it bounces up and down on a fancy keurig, “hey! Leave the superior appliance alone!”. The coffee machine blows up.

“Die coffeefee!”

Oh yeah, fuck this toaster majorly. It spits more toast at Danny as if hearing his mental insult.

Vlad rolls up his sleeves, hands glowing some and stalking ominous after the feral machine. Danny throwing a pillow at him and at the toaster, a couple cat toys going sailing as well; one goes right into the toaster even. “Don’t actually kill it! That’s a person! Unfortunately!”.

“Y’all couldn’t killy billy me even if ya tried anyway!”.

“Do you want to die!”.

Vlad frowns at Danny, “somethings do, in fact, deserve to die. This is one of them”.

“No!”.

Ah say hello to the one thing neither of them can ever actually agree upon. Meanwhile the fucking toaster jingles, cat toy must have had a bell on it then.

Maddie the cat comes out of nowhere and bodily tackles the toaster, batting at it wildly.

She desires her toy. It has her toy. It will now be her toy!

The toaster shrieks and waddles away on its ‘feet’ rapidly, Maddie the cat smacking the ground after it trying to attack its cord, butt wiggling and paws flailing.

Vlad looks incredibly proud, “atta girl, Maddie”. Hell, even Danny’s incredibly proud, what a good cat. Fluffy and ferocious.

Vlad absolutely punts the toaster into the corner of wall mounted oil candle when it tries to shoot Maddie the cat with toast. Snarling, “I will end you”. Unfortunately he’s not quick enough with the ecto-blast to even singe the thing. It was one fast toaster.

Danny putting his hands on his knees and wheezing, toaster assaulting the chandelier, “how, how are we, getting the runaround, by a, by a fucking, toaster?”.

Vlad huffing with his hands on his hips, “when is anything your father messes with easy to resolve?”.

“Never?”.

“That’s what I thought”.

“Fuck, you”.

“I love you too Daniel”.

“Ancients you are, a weird uncle”.

“And you’re a weird godson”.

Which was probably the only reason this mentorship shit even worked at all. Both of them were way too fucking weird. Everything around them was always way too fucking weird.

Case and point?

The toaster managed to unhook the chandelier, which has now crashed down to the ground in a hail of tiny expensive diamonds.

But Maddie the cat is on a mission. A mission that shall not be deterred by any mess or wonton destruction. She bites the toasters cord and flings it around wildly like it’s a mouse she’s playing with.

A mouse she will keep playing with until it dies and stops moving.

She flings it up in the air and catches it by the cord again, regardless of the toaster trying to avoid that. “MAKE THE BATTY’S CATTY STOP!”.

“No”.

“Naw”.

To be fair, it was kind of hilarious. And Vlad and Danny were telekinetically moving anything sharp out of Maddie the cat’s way so she wouldn’t get hurt while she had her fun.

“Maybe I like being a toaster! Ever think about that!”

Both Vlad and Danny give simultaneous deadpanned, “why?”’s.

Maddie the cat flops herself on the toaster body, its cord still in her mouth, as she purrs happily and swishes her tail around lazily. She doesn’t look like she has any intention of releasing the toaster.

So the two halfa’s walk over and stare down at the toaster. The toaster pipes up dejectedly, “okay maybe that was a lie. I am angry and touch starved”.

“Fuckin’ mood”.

“That I can understand, to a degree”.

Danny and Vlad eye each other before both chuckling fondly.

“…help?”.

Maddie the cat purrs loudly.

Vlad smirks down at the thing, “oh I don’t know about that, Maddie looks quite content were she is”.

“I concur”.

Vlad blinks and grins wide, “glad to see your vocabularies improved”.

“You hired me a tutor, how couldn’t it?”.

“Money well spent, then”.

“HELLO! You CUCKY DUCKY’S gonna HELP!”.

Vlad makes a face, “I think you’d benefit from a tutor as well”, straightening his suit, and huffing, “but very well, I suppose”.

Danny chuckling, “I’ll keep an eye on murder mittens and her prey”. More so for Maddie the cat’s well being and not the toaster from Satan’s asshole’s well being.

…

Vlad gets the thing Jack mailed him, he never threw out anything Daniel’s parents sent him, in case he one day needed to use it to prove their neglect to outright abuse in a court of law. Someday CPS was going to have a field day with the case of a lifetime and then some.

Danny glances at the… rubber duck? As Vlad comes back over. “What?”.

Vlad rubs his forehead, “I was confused as well. It actually gets worse, some how”. Vlad bops the things on the head, causing it to inflate into a twenty foot tall rubber duck.

The toaster snarls, “damn you, ducky fucky! Damn you!”.

Danny picks Maddie the cat up off of the toaster while making ‘I’m watching you’ motions with his free hand at the toaster.

The toaster, knowing it’s beat and fearing the cat, does not move.

Vlad picks up the massive duck and drops it on the toaster, it absorbs the toaster and promptly spits a teenager out of its beak. The teenager landing on his back in a crumbled heap.

Danny blinks, “what the fuck dad? I have way too many questions”. The teen coughs up a jingly ball cat toy and Maddie the cat launches herself out of Danny’s arm at the ball as it rolls away; fluffy legs trying to carry her faster than she can go.

The teen stands up, hunched over with his limbs all spread apart like he’s attempting to take a fighting pose while also being extremely grossed out.

Danny blinks, “sooooo, you gonna tell anyone?”. Vlad sighs in exasperation.

The teen slowly looks to Danny, who gives him a hopeful look. “Fucking why? I got turned into a toaster, accosted two deady teddy’s, beat up by a cat, and vomited out of a duck. Ain’t no one believing shit dick all”.

Danny chuckles, “that’s fair. Wes tries but everyone thinks he’s crazy and he ain’t claiming shit that weird”.

The teen raises an eyebrow at him, still having not moved any other part of him a single inch, “ya got another fucker who found out and is now trying to exposey woosey you? Ha! You suck”.

“Fuck you”.

Vlad ruffles Danny’s hair, “and my offer to sue the boy into silence or provide hush money still stands”.

“I’m kinda having fun with it honestly”.

“I’ve noticed, and support you terrorizing him entirely”.

The teen spits out a toast on to the floor, looks down and stares at it, then does it again. More toast flopping onto the floor, “huh. Yeah no. Fuck this shit I’m out”, and waddles back and forth out the front door like he still can’t move his legs.

…

Danny sighs slowly, “dad is so going to have to write an apology letter to that kid”.

Vlad rolls his eyes, “that man couldn’t be bothered to send me a single generic ‘get well soon’ card, you know he won’t do that”.

“Ugh”.

Danny absolutely has to get Jazz to write the apology letter, because Danny’s still to miffed about the toast assault to not come off as incredibly snide. Danny also collects as many toasts from Vlad’s place as he could and promptly dumped them on Wes in his sleep; he also finally mailed the box of muddy clothes.

The teen, meanwhile, absolutely spits toast at Jack the next time he sees the elder Fenton, it is absolutely caught on video. Said teen also turned out to be on the football team, which in typical Casper-high fashion, accepted him back on the team immediately. The Raven’s opponents were not prepared for the feral ex-toaster or his toast-related cruelty. Dash also later high-fived Danny, in the face, with a slice of toast as ‘gift’; Danny bit him without hesitation.

End.

PRompts: Danny's identity is found out in the funniest way possible. "Whatch'a got there?" "A smoothie" An unexpected person finds out Danny’s identity. (By unexpected I mean less his parents or Mr Lancer and more like, Star. Or Aunt Alicia. The more out there the better.) "I..I need your help." BadgerCereal Maybe Danny had been having a bit too much fun taunting Wes and even transforming in front of him. It was definitely coming back to bite him now…To be fair though, no one knew Desiree was right there. Maddie (the cat) saves the day Anything Badger Cereal (Vlad and Danny platonic father/son , mentor/apprentice )

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dyrewrites · 2 months ago

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Order In! Questionnaire tag game

Cooked up by @dearunreliablenarrator over here

I am leaving this one OPEN because I am curious about everyone's answers...so if you see this, do it. =P

This is a fun one I had to be specifically picky about, on account of so many of my characters not eating 'food'.

We'll be using 'Pale Blood' characters, wherein two of them absolutely eat normal things.

Delmas, Den, Odea and Ron...take it away.

Oh man did they take it--got long so under a cut.

what is one comfort meal that'll change your whole mood for the day?

"You feed this big, hot piece of--"

"Den."

"I can't help it, he's--fine. You feed him, what was it called? The stuff with the noodles and meat and mushrooms."

"Min throws one fit and the whole pack's gotta shame my shrooms..."

"Stroganoff, Den, that's the name."

"Yeah, that. Give my sweet fang here some of that and he's putty the whole day."

"Is that why you hugged me yesterday?"

"Nah, that was all you, Ron. You're very huggable."

"Who invited the ghoulfriend..."

"Aw, look at the arm candy, thinking he gets a say in where I go."

"Aw, and look at the abomination, thinking it can contribute to a discussion about food. Eat any good dead people lately?"

"Plenty, precious. In fact, just this morning I ate your mo--"

"Nope. Nuh-uh. Not doin' this. Question over."

what is an experience (good or bad) that has turned you off or on to a food completely?

"Ever see a witch fish synth-beef out of a sink drain...and eat it?"

"Once. I did that once, and if you two hadn't been crashing on my fucking couch you wouldn't have seen shit!"

"What about something you saw him eat, hon, maybe go there instead of shrieking."

"Oh, we can't discuss what I've seen Den eat or this little interview will get decidedly more explicit."

"Wait, what was the question?"

"Speak of the entree."

"What I miss. Why's my boyfriend laughin'...Odea, did you break my wolf?"

if you could eliminate one piece of produce, meat, dairy or sweets off the earth what would it be?

"I would like to eliminate dairy, for the sole purpose of making my dear, sweet coworker here less--"

"Ron, if you finish that sentence I'm feeding you to my cats."

"Does the witch not do dairy? Del, Del, why didn't you tell me she can't handle dairy. Even synth? I need ice cream. Or just cream, can we get heavy cream?"

"Den, no."

"But maybe it would loosen her up to be horribly embarrassed and it would please me. Don't you want to please me?"

"I'm not answerin' that. But I will answer the question; brussel sprouts. Even the real thing is like eatin' an old shoe."

and dessert is normally saved for last, but if you could what would you order for your entree at a restaurant?

"Cheesecake."

"Hon, no."

"Hon, yes, get this witch some cheesecake!"

"Three tiered chocolate brownie cake..."

"Oh and I'm being unreasonable with my fantasy dessert?"

"You know you'd be eating it alone, babe."

"I'm aware and I want it."

"I'd eat it with you, Del."

"Thank you, Ron...but no, it's all mine."

and if you'd like a refill on your drinks or a to go box, here are some extras...

what are some food fusions that should never be mixed? "Blood and citrus...it clings." "What, did you have a bloodbag with an OJ chaser, how do you know that?" "Kinda. Whoever I drank left a bad taste, so I grabbed an orange to wash it out. It did not."

Cooking is a life skill, why haven't you started learning yet!? "Oh, but I have." "No, please, don't get him started. You'll be here all night with the 'oh, woe is me a halfie what needs foods and bloods, having to learn to cook just to survive...'" "The fuck, Odea." "What, I've heard it so many times. I can't again. Please." "Fine, maybe I won't cook you that lasagna you've been beggin' me for all week. See how you enjoy my stories then." "No, no, I'm sorry. I love your story! Tell it again, please, please?" "Nope, blood's been spilled and I ain't cookin' you shit. The chef is off duty." "Wait, does that mean I get no omelette tomorrow with all the bits of heart meat cut into cute little heart shapes?" "Mm, of course you get your breakfast, sweetness...you didn't mock my cookin'." "I didn't either! I mocked the reason. C'mon, Del, please?" "Nope." Is there a smell that reminds you of something you never want to remember? "Salt and citrus and no, I ain't sayin' why." "Fucking glittershit's why." "Den." "Right, right, not saying."

->blank for you below!<-

what is one comfort meal that'll change your whole mood for the day?

what is an experience (good or bad) that has turned you off or on to a food completely?

if you could eliminate one piece of produce, meat, dairy or sweets off the earth what would it be?

and dessert is normally saved for last, but if you could what would you order for your entree at a restaurant?

and if you'd like a refill on your drinks or a to go box, here are some extras...

what are some food fusions that should never be mixed? what food spot are you gatekeeping and why? Cooking is a life skill, why haven't you started learning yet!? Is there a smell that reminds you of something you never want to remember?

->Taglist for Pale Blood<-

~lemme know if you want on/off~

@rowanmgrey-author @lychhiker-writes

#writeblr #pale blood #tag games #questionnaire #order in #thems the queues #open tag #i wish they could have had more moments together #just being themselves #but they were pretty busy through most of the book #maybe side stories...

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casliveblog · 1 year ago

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Custom Toonami Block Week 133 Rundown

Spy X Family: Yor Briar is an extremely socially awkward young woman who just happens to professionally murder people in her free time. Because this is a weird 40sish police state where people can be excluded from school for not having two parents, Yor is getting looks for being Christmas Cake and having legit threats of being thrown in jail as a spy because she dares to be unmarried because that’s just how paranoid the government is even though you’d think Spies could just as easily make a family pair to fly under suspicions and in fact Loid says they very easily could do that if so many female spies weren’t being arrested for being single which is like five layers of ironic and weird. But yeah they meet up by chance and Anya’s able to read their minds to give enough of a ‘oh woe is me for being the child of a single parent with my dad so utterly attractive and available’ that any normal person would assume was him giving his daughter creepy coaching but Yor is the right level of gullible and intense to not think anything of it. Loid agrees to the The Wedding Date plot to pretend to be her bf so she doesn’t get fucking thrown in prison and also more importantly so her brother doesn’t feel bad but he has a thing on the night of the thing because drama and shows up late. Yor feels like she’s been stood up but the chad Loid just comes to the party dripping with blood like ‘Yeah I’m Yor’s hus-boyfriend’ in a scene that actually kinda laugh and clap out loud as well as standing up for her when her coworkers imply she was a sex worker and he’s just like ‘life’s rough bro so what?’ in like the chaddiest thing I’ve ever seen. Now that Yor’s got legit feelings for him as well as still having the whole prison/brother thing hanging over her head she proposes to him in the middle of a high speed car chase, as you do. Yor’s just hilariously oblivious to the whole situation like even when they’re fucking being shot at and blowing people up she’s like ‘wow doctoring is bloody’ like she’s an assassin so I guess this is just what she thinks life is like, we’re not exactly dealing with the most well-adjusted people in either case and it’s funny as fuck so it’s fine.

Inuyasha: It’s the epic conclusion of the Sesshomaru’s fanfic waifu filler arc. Sara gives Sesshomaru Tessaiga and he’s just like ‘bitch did I ask for your help?’ and bolts while Kagome shatters Sara’s jewel that was turning everyone into glass so that’s not a problem anymore. Sara tells her backstory again and turns out right after Sesshomaru got his arm cut off he was kinda not feeling great on account of bleeding out and getting beat up by your brother, both of those will do a number on you. Her dad was like ‘fuck if my daughter’s gonna be a furry’ and sends the whole kingdom to kill Sesshomaru but it’s basically like that ‘1 billion corgis versus the sun’ fight, no matter how many you throw it’s not gonna do shit. So yeah Sara’s dad goes crazy since his whole army was killed by a one armed bishie and burns the whole castle down. Sara for some reason is still in love with Sesshomaru because he saved them the first time even though he murdered them all the second time because I mean look at the guy what’s a few murders between fangirls. Sesshomaru and Sara meet up in the woods and she explains how she’s Naraku’d herself, Inuyasha and Co. show up a bit later and turns out the demons possessing her have hijacked her to kill Sesshomaru instead and for some reason Tokijin doesn’t work because it’s like a hate curse so a sword of demonic hatred only lets them multiply more which sounds like bullshit especially when Kagome’s Sacred Arrow doesn’t work. but it does result in Sesshomaru getting to use the Wind Scar for the sake of putting a human soul to rest so that’s pretty cool and we get a fittingly ‘whatever’ ending from Sesshomaru so it’s fine.

Yu Yu Hakusho: Yusuke’s still fighting Sniper while the rest of the gang use Seaman to get a lock on Sensui’s cave. Yusuke’s still running from knives and bullshit until Sniper throws a fucking fuel truck at him which is weird because it’s not like it’s a bullet skidding down the street after him it’s actually physically driving towards him with nobody manning the pedals put still steering and shit so idk how that works exactly. Eventually Sniper says ‘fuck it’ and grabs a straight up gun to shoot the tanker and explode it right behind Yusuke but we’ve hit the contractual amount of time since Hiei’s last appearance so he’s able to step in and save the day dramatically. Since Sniper doesn’t have targets on Hiei and the man is literally faster than a speeding bullet it’s a piece of cake for him to take Sniper out which is kind of a shame because I like Sniper’s powerset and wanted to see Yusuke overcome it but seems like he just got a bad matchup. Yusuke wants to go rush off against Sensui but Hiei’s like ‘bro an oil truck just exploded on you and you have no plan’ so he takes his shirt off off-screen and they have a good old fashioned knuckleduster DBZ fight without any named techniques just a lot of auras and punching, it’s pretty cool ngl. Hiei says that’s enough and he’s glad Yusuke hasn’t lost his edge but to remember that Sensui isn’t like Toguro and isn’t gonna be all Goku ‘lemme fight you at your best’ and let him suffer enough emotional damage to power up so he needs to be able to pull enough strength to win without it being orchestrated. Yusuke and Hiei haggle for a bit with Yusuke being like ‘come on let’s go save Kuwabara’ and Hiei’s like ‘but I don’t LIKE Kuwabara’ like yeah if it was literally anyone else you’d have a better chance of recruiting Hiei but Yusuke manages to bribe him with a potential copy of the Chapter Black tape and/or destroying all the annoying fodder demons that are gonna come bother Hiei if shit hits the fan so the gang’s all back together agin.

Jujutsu Kaisen: We pick up roughly where we left off and Gojo shows up to beat Evil Yuji up and apparently his superpowered evil side isn’t that big a deal because Yuji’s just the right level of yin for Sukuna’s yang and all of his yelling and shit amounts to what’s basically intrusive thoughts so he can let him out but doesn’t have much problem putting a leash back on him. Gojo gives him the deal that he’s gotta die for eating the cursed finger but in the meantime they plan to use him as a human garbage disposal and get rid of as many of the fingers as they can before he turns evil and dies or they execute him whatever comes first. Yuji agrees and eats a second finger and packs up to go to magical high school because it’s not a shonen without magical high school, though in this case that mostly seems to be window dressing where ‘high school’ means ‘magical military base that houses teenagers and sometimes has classes I guess’ which is good for me because honestly I kinda find school settings really boring at this point. He interviews with the principal who beats the shit out of him with some Cursed Hello Kitty dolls until he gives him a proper shonen protagonist motivation. And it’s a pretty cool philosophy because yeah if Yuji was just doing an Uncle Ben thing and only fighting because he promised someone else that’s how you end up as Batman and become a fucked up loner crucifying yourself on the duty you promised someone else and as an anti-curse school they kinda wanna put a cap on building more magical resentment across Japan. Yuji admits that it’s kind of enlightened self-interest because while he is fighting to save people he wouldn’t be able to live with himself knowing bad things were happening and he was the only one that could’ve stopped it so he won’t regret giving it a shot even if he fucks up major because trying is better than wondering what could’ve been. Luckily Yuji’s class is only three people big so we’re like if Naruto’s graduating class was ONLY Team 7, speaking of which Nobara is here and I love her already.

Chainsaw Man: We’re just slowly excavating Denji’s standards from ten feet under the floor now they’re only like seven feet under the floor since he can actually eat and shit now. Makima takes him in and gives her whole kinky pet speech and Denji’s like ‘well dog’s better than trash and there’s boobs involved so sure’. This episode is honestly really briskly paced, I get this was probably like five chapters in the manga but I feel like we would’ve gotten separate episodes for all of this if this was ten years ago before seasonal anime was a thing. Denji settles in and is introduced to his Sasuke analogue which I guess every anime needs a generic-looking Sasuke guy given Jujutsu Kaisen also has one. Speaking of which this part of the episode is a lot like the second episode of that one since it involves Denji getting his ass kicked with the whole ‘if you’re not ready for this fuck off because the rest of us have tragic backstories to develop’ and whereas Yuji gave a small twist on the standard ‘I’mma help and that’s never wrong’ shonen protagonist deal, Denji’s just ‘fuck off bro’ and kicks him in the balls which I feel like Naruto would be a lot shorter if more people gave Sasuke a kick in the balls when he needed it. Then Makima sends them off on a REAL mission to beat the dumb minor antagonist that’s in the second episode of every anime after the first episode blew the budget making a cool-looking but weak villain for the protagonist to unlock their powers on. And there’s a whole big long speech about how Aki wants to murder everything because devils killed his family and Makima gives him boners and Denji doesn’t have a vengeful bone in his body but is also less altruistic than he seems since he just wants the porn and resolves to making touching boobs his shonen protagonist resolve thing, slowly excavating those standards, like we’re still six feet below the floor at this point but he’s in the mindset of wanting to have a goal at least. Anyway the last bit is getting introduced to our third girl member of Team Seven (this really is just like JJK) but unlike JJK we actually get to see her in action this time as she uses Suitengu’s Blood Sephiroth powers from Speed Grapher to smash the… Sea Cucumber Devil… because apparently people are afraid of that, idk every time I hear a random Devil I just think of the Sock Puppets scene from the Simpsons and wonder when we’re getting the Sock Puppet Devil. Anyway Power is basically all the worst parts of all the Konosuba girls put together and people are here for it.

Ranking of Kings: The lion’s share of the episode is devoted to Kage’s backstory to explain why he’s so drawn to Bojji’s soft boi routine. Kage was a victim of your standard anime family genocide and saw his mom’s corpse dragged around in front of him while being protected by a foreign noble and making a b-line for presumably the kingdom the series takes place in. Given he’s less than half a foot tall and got no money he’s kinda SoL until this big thief dude comes and gives him some food and gives him the ol’ Cinderella treatment which is still better than what he had and that even escalates to actively participating in robberies given he’s a living shadow. He desperately latches on to the like 0.0001% of kindness the dude shows him (seems to be a common theme carried over from this week’s Chainsaw Man) and even after the dude has sold him out for an amount of gold that looks like way less than what he was helping him steal so I guess he just did it to be a dick, Kage still literally shadows him until he dies in a barroom brawl and seems like the dude has the smallest amount of regret for how he treated Kage before he dies. Back with Bojji he’s still kicking his little brother’s ass but everyone’s like ‘DODGING!? WHAT THE FUCK BEAT HIS ASS BRO’ because apparently the people are more viking meatheads than in Vinland Saga and they don’t understand any form of combat that isn’t big swords smashing into people. Kage puts together that Bojji having to be observant enough to read lips because like one guy in the whole kingdom bothered to learn sign language means that he’s really good at predicting movements and reacting. His instructor’s like ‘yo you can’t be king unless you face him head on’ and Bojji tries and gets absolutely fucked up because apparently dodging is cowardly but continuing to smack someone until you’ve broken every bone in their body after they already fell down is chad work I guess. Bojji’s got the full Anakin Skywalker treatment and only has one working limb atm but wants to keep training and Kage’s like ‘bro you’re fine just how you are everyone else can fuck off you fight your own way’ which isn’t at all a metaphor for how education systems streamline divergent people into a standardized method and then shit on them for not being a fish that learned how to fly.

Vinland Saga: The English are dicks (shocker) and attack a Viking colony on Bath Day because Vikings are just like ‘let’s all drop our weapons and get naked one day a week what could possibly go wrong anyone who’d abuse that is an asshole’ and turns out they killed the King of Denmark’s sister and Vikings love an excuse to fight so they come to recruit Thors to fight for Denmark because fuck England (I think ‘Fuck England’ is probably one of the least controversial things a historical period piece can say so we’re good even though the Vikings are kinda dicks too). But yeah turns out Thors was a deserter from the Denmarkian Viking army because he was like ‘you know what I think people don’t like being murdered’ and these guys are like ‘well if we’re gonna go fuck England up we better go get that guy that faked his death and ran away because he was really good at killing people’ and they make it clear that if he refuses they’re just gonna go kill the whole village. So Thors agrees to go to war with one ship from the village and Thorfinn is being a whiny little pissbaby about not getting to go because he’s like eight and Thors is just like ‘bro war is just a made up thing countries manufacture to grow their power, you personally don’t have any reason to kill anybody and killing people is awful anyway’ which is pretty enlightened for an old timey Viking. Still the Street Fighter lookin’ dude that came to recruit Thors is rocking up to Askeladd to go kill Thors after he sets sail which idk why they didn’t just jump him in the village and kill him there where they have hostages but idk maybe they want him to kill a few Englishmen first.

#ooc #Toonami #Custom Toonami Block #Spy X Family #Inuyasha #Yu Yu Hakusho #Jujutsu Kaisen #Chainsaw Man #Ranking of Kings #Vinland Saga

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lonnieslaments · 8 months ago

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"He is demanding your ear once again, my queen."

"Has it been 5 years already? Shame. Bring him in."

Two guards hold the old man by his shoulders and throw him in front of the queen, on his knees.

"Ah, hello Princess."

"Queen. You know that you old fool. Don't you dare dishonor me again, you're already wasting my time."

"But of course, your majesty." He looks up, face more wrinkle than man. Matted and dirty gray hair clinging to him like threads about to rip, and a long, thinning beard to match. But his eyes. Though sunken, they are a piercing blue. "How have you been, my Queen?"

"I was well until I realized what today was."

"And yet you let me stand before you still."

"Funny. I don't believe you could rise to your feet this moment if you tried."

"You look well." His voice was dry and raspy, but he still spoke clearly, staring directly at her, intent on his tongue and his eyes. And she did look well. Though they were both 55, she looked as if she could be in her early forties, and he in his late 60s. Her brown hair was on the lighter side, with mere hints of gray sneaking into her roots. Her face was small, but held, of course, a royal beauty that could make the most powerful man obey her. The old fool had once considered himself a powerful man, but time had stripped that title from him.

"I wish I could say the same. Oh, you poor fool, how I pity you." She rested her head on her hand, turning away from the old man.

"Fool?" He smirked, what teeth weren't missing were stained, "Your words betray you madam. Even now, of all the words that could be used on my sorry self, you jump to what I once was in your eyes."

"No, you bat. I don't mean a court fool. A fool fool. That's all you are."

"Look at me." He growled, force in his voice now.

She obeyed this demand. She looked upon his sorry figure, and remembered the boy from long ago. A boy who sang and danced for her family, a boy who had claimed her laughter, and claimed her heart. This man before her now shared very few features anymore to that boy, the lines to be drawn ending at his long hair, sleek jawbone, and most of all, those eyes. Electric. Piercing. Powerful.

"Just who in the Hell do you think you're speaking to? I could have your head on a stake in 30 seconds for talking to me like that." She matched his gaze, just as fierce. Many times over many years they had fought with their powerful gazes, his eyes always being the pair to lower first. Her eyes, also a piercing blue, but with hints of golden flames on the rim of her iris. This time he would not break away from her eyes, finally forcing her to drop her stare. For a moment, this angered her further, but her temper lowered when she saw he was smiling. Or rather, it wasn't lowering, but being replaced by curiosity.

"Just hear my woes, old friend. That's all I need this visit." He finally said.

He thought back to the last time he was here, 5 years ago. He was much more put together, beard and hair both braided, still some light brown left on the very ends. He was well dressed, and well mannered. Leaving his days of jesting for the royal family behind, he thought to be a cook for a while, and enjoyed that period of his life thoroughly. Of course, he enjoyed it more because that was when his love of the princess reached it's highest peaks. Her pink, yellow, and sky blue flames of passion and fury had struck him, struck him dead. But when her flames had decided it was time to burn him no longer, he was left cold. Not even the flames of a bustling kitchen could counteract the cold that consumed him. So, as time when on, he cooked less and wrote more, eventually becoming a popular poet among the kingdom. This was his goal. Not for fame or money, which he squandered most of anyway, but simply for the hope that his princess would see it, read what his heart had to say. Even decades after she had said goodbye, every line he had ever written was for her. Every 5 years he had payed the royal family a visit, but only to see her. And 5 years ago she had become Queen, and so, wearing a poet's best, he came, quite cordially, to pay his old lover a visit. It ended not as poorly as it could have, but certainly not as he had hoped. He left, heart still broken, and soul still cold.

"I am dying." He finally said. "I have been for some time."

She stared for a while. A very long while. Finally, she wiped off the face of shock and replaced it with once of pompous superiority, "Is this supposed to explain your tattered clothes and greasy hair? Have you stopped caring about common decency as a dying man?"

"Drop the act, Noe—"

"Don't you dare call me that!" She gasped, feigned superiority replaced with a returning anger, "you lost the right to call me that long ago."

He sighed, "But of course, my Queen."

"Now, why do you feel it so important to let me know this?"

"Do you remember the night we first danced, my dear? 30 years ago now. The night I first held you, kissed you on your head before I departed?"

"Quite hard to when you come back every half decade on the day to beg me to love you again."

To this, the guards in the room squirmed with discomfort. Their queen was quite a closed off, often ruthless leader. The idea of a man once holding her heart was rather foreign. The thought of her still holding his seemed impossible.

"Do you recall what I said when I left?"

"It's fuzzy, you said many things. You're quite a talker."

"Heh. Maybe so. But I told you I shan't die lest it be in your arms."

She blinked. The slightest hint of a tear beginning to form on her eye. She blinked several times, until it went away.

"I... I remember."

"Well, I'm ready. These bones are failing, and I may very well have many tumors by this point."

"We are not very old at all. How are things so bad for you already?"

"You know this my queen. Though my mind ages slowly, my body ages rather fast. It always has." He outstretched his arms and looked at himself, smiling.

The Queen was not. "So, you want me to, what, hold you so you can die? Do you realize how shameful it would be to touch you, not to mention what mental turmoil I would go through holding a dead man?"

"Ah, as always you are able to see what I cannot. I suppose it's always your choice."

"I don't think that is a good idea."

"Enough of the thinking. What do you feel?"

"Nothing at all. I don't think I'd like to continue this conversation."

He frowned, feeling his heart break once again. Not even his dying wish she would let him have. "I... Did have a backup idea."

"And what's that?" She looked at him, head tilted up as to not let tears stream out her eyes.

"Lock me up, my dear. In the dungeon. To rot. That way, if you change your mind, you can come down to me and release me from my bodily prison."

"I don't want to do that either."

"Those are your only two choices."

"You seem to forget I could throw you out the door with the flick of a hand."

"And yet you won't. Now what will it be?"

She sits for a very long while. "Take him to the dungeon." As he leaves her view, she breaks down into sobs for the first time in many years.

And so to the dungeon he was brought. The door never locked, yet he stayed. 3 square meals were brought to him in a timely manner each day. Free to leave whenever he wished, yet he chose to stay. 5 more years passed, and he was brought out to share a meal with her.

Another 5 years, they do the same. The guards realize that he is not requesting these dinners, it is a direct order from the queen. The man is clearly not fit to live, but seems to choose not to die so he can see her again.

5 more years, he cannot walk any longer, but has to be helped to his seat, facing the queen on the other end of the long rectangular table. She is not very well anymore either, her grip on the kingdom weakening as her grip on her dinner fork weakens as well, her nephew now ruling the nation. And yet, she does not hold the man across from her. She cannot bare to be the means he releases himself from this life, so she patiently waits for him to let go of her and die on his own accord. Yet he does not.

5 final years. Guards are in a panic. They are shouting, running about, looking for the former queen. After many hours, they find her. A single dungeon door lies open. In it, sitting on the cold, dirty stone floor, a beautiful old woman, and a raggedy old man. The man held in her arms, both seemingly smiling, propped against the wall facing the door. No breath is visible in the cold dungeon air. And so, on May 26th, the former queen was declared dead.

5 hours earlier:

"I always told you I'd wait for you"

"I'm sorry it took so long for me to accept that."

"I'm just grateful you did, my princess. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, my clown boy."

Lonnie Latimore, March 1st, 2024.

#short story #mideval #queen #jester #beginner writer

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lonely-lost-soul · 4 years ago

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Poff Poff

(Platonic C!Schlatt x Niece Reader)

Request 7: Can I request an Uncle Jschlatt and Niece reader? (Platonic ye) maybe Jschlatt could be out taking his niece to a late-night convenience store so they could late-night snack because both he and his niece had a bad day?

Requested by: Anonymous

AU where Puffy is Schlatt’s sister :)

~~~

Schlatt had, had a rough day, to say the least. He once again almost got banned for another scheme gone wrong. His election plans were set in motion but due to the statistics, it looked like he was losing and he was pissed off beyond belief. He had no plans for the rest of the day, all he wanted to do was relax with a drink and a cigarette, maybe watch a movie, just something to help him through the rest of this shitty ass day.

So, When Puffy had shown up on his doorstep and dropped you off to watch you while she went out his immediate response was no. He already smells like cigarette smoke and whiskey he shouldn’t be anywhere near a child. But one harsh glare from his sister made him shut his trap, he looked down at you and you looked just as unhappy to be there.

“Mom do I have to stay here, I’m old enough to stay on my own. Or even with Dream?” The angsty teen groaned tilting her head to the side, her little horns hitting her on the shoulder. Puffy let out a pinched huff pressing her fingers to her nose,

“You know Dreams out with George and Sapnap, plus you’re still too young to be left alone. So you’re staying with Uncle Schlatt until I get back from my date with Niki.”

“But-”

“Hush no butts. Now you.” She pointed a finger at Schlatt, “no smoking or drinking in front of my little Poff got it?” Schlatt rolled his eyes snarling over at his sister,

“Have a little faith in me, sis.” She shot him a look, and he wilted a little bit,

“Be good.”

“I will.” You groaned,

“Not talking to you.”

“I will.” The goat-man grumbled under his breath, finally seeming satisfied his sister departed leaving her equally hotheaded daughter by his side. “So...you smoke?”

“No Uncle Schlatt I don’t smoke,” You sighed a frown on your face usually that comment got a least a snort.

Oh no, not teenage angst.

You walked past him into his humble abode and plopped down on his couch, it also smelled like smoke, “How’s Quackity?”

“You mean Flatty Patty?” He smirked plopping down beside you scratching at his ear absentmindedly. You snickered, there it was,

“No I don’t, you know he hates when you call him that.” You nudged him gently, Schlatt ruffled your hair minding your horns. You huffed at him moving to fix your tousled hair,

“Alright, kid you got me. Now, what’s up with you?”

“Nothings wrong.” You muttered crossing your arms over your chest defensively, he shrugged his shoulders not bothering to push you. “Okay fine!” You blurted throwing your hands in the air, the man raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t say anything-”

“It’s just Dream’s not been home lately and Mom’s not taking it well. Instead of trying to watch out for him n’ shit, she’s going on dates with Niki.” You groaned falling back against the couch, “When he does come home it’s just for food and to pet, his cat then leave. He barely even says hi to us anymore...we used to be so close. Now he just doesn’t care.” Your face fell and he frowned, Schlatt winced a little he was never known to be very good with comforting people let alone comforting women. He placed a hand on your shoulder and squeezed,

“He’ll come around kid, family’s, family you know?” He watched you shrug sadly and he rubbed his chin with his other hand.

He needed another cigarette right now.

You looked up at him and saw him tense, “You can smoke I don’t care.” You gave a little shrug, “either way I’m leaving here smelling like smoke Mom won’t be able to tell the difference.”

“Heh.” He chuckled roughly rubbing the back of his neck, “thank’s kid, I owe you one.” You nodded and watched as Schlatt pulled out his package of cigarettes and frowned seeing it was empty, “Ah fuck me.”

“You out?”

“Yeah. Would you be opposed to a quick drugstore run?” You shrugged your shoulders, indifferent.

“Sure could be fun. Could I get a snack?”

“You could get whatever you want, not payin’ for it.” You snorted loudly covering your mouth to hide your snort. “What? If you can steal it you can get whatever you want.”

“I’m not stealing anything Uncle Schlatt, that’s wrong.”

“Ugh. What’s my goody-two-shoes sister been teaching you?” His nose scrunched up in displeasure. “As long as you don’t get caught anything is legal kid. Stick with me and you’ll learn way more tips than that. I'm a professional.”

“Right cause doing that hasn’t gotten banned before.” You smirked and he glared at you pulling on your horn. The movement caused you to yelp in pain. “Joke! I was joking! Ow!” He muttered a ‘you better be’ before standing up from his couch. You followed him from the couch as he made his way to the door, he held it open for you and you snickered “What a gentlemen.”

“Don’t slander my name like that again.” He scoffed, “Follow me, don’t wander off.” Schlatt commanded as you followed him down to the nearest convenience store, “Go get something you like.” He shooed you off and requested the pack of cigarettes he needed making small talk with the store clerk while you wandered around. “Hurry up kid or you get nothing!”

“I’m coming!” You yelled back in your arms was a pack of sour patch watermelons, a chocolate bar, and some chips, “I got you chips.” Schlatt tried to bite back a smile but it came through anyway and it only made you smile in tandem. He paid for your goodies and you both headed out to go sit outside on a nearby bench. As you sat down you turned to stare at him dead in the eyes, he felt a little unsettled and watched as you slowly pulled out a little bag of popcorn. “I stole it.”

“Holy fuck kid you did it!” He burst into laughter ruffling your hair once again, “I’m proud of you.” You beamed brightly sitting up straighter on the bench, you opened the bag and popped a piece into your mouth. Schlatt reached forward and stole a handful from you, you ripped the bag away defensively and he snickered.

“Soo…” You trailed off softly and he raised an eyebrow at you, “You seemed to have a bad day too. You wanna talk about it?” His eyes widened in surprise, he didn’t take you to be so observant, then again you were Puffy’s child.

“Alright Poff,” he clicked his tongue distastefully and began to recount his woes to his child niece. Halfway through he pulled out a freshly bought cigarette and stuck it between his teeth. He pulled out a lighter flicking it a few times before lighting the cancer stick in his mouth and taking a long drag. You nodded your head in response and seemed to be listening intently to him, as he talked he felt his facade crumbling. The goat man slumped across the bench and was openly ranting to you at this point. “So yeah, that’s how my days going. Guess we both are doing pretty shitily huh?” You pursed your lips,

“Why don’t you ask Quackity to combine both of your votes the day of the election?” He looked at you with a raised eyebrow, you flushed nervously under his stern gaze. “Then you can be the President and he can be your Vice President or something...that way you both win in a way, ya know?”

“Kid…” Schlatt murmured thoughtfully rubbing his chin, “you’re a genius!” He wrapped you up in a hug, “this kid! I love ya! You’re too smart for your good!” You beamed letting out a happy laugh in response, “I’m contacting him immediately. Wilbur and Tommy don’t stand a fucking chance against me now.”

“I’m glad I can make you happy.” You snuggled into his arms but recoiled a little bit at the overwhelming scent of fresh smoke on his clothes, “you deserve it.” Schlatt felt his heart shutter a little at the inclination that he deserves to be happy, he was about to respond with a joke but you started talking again. “You’re a good guy Uncle. You don’t let people see it often but you’re an okay dude,” he watched you fiddle with your fingers as his eyebrows furrowed. He chuckled a little,

“Most people would disagree with you kid.”

“Well most people don’t know like mom and I do,” You pointed out, “Plus if you weren’t a nice guy you wouldn’t have tried to cheer me up.”

“I needed smokes.” He pointed out motioning to the stick in his mouth and you frowned a little.

Good, things were getting too mushy for his liking.

He was about to smirk in triumph but you turned towards him a determined look on your face. “My point still stands, for example, if you weren’t that great of a guy you wouldn’t have watched me today. You would’ve shut the door in Puffy’s face or you wouldn’t have listened and tried to comfort me. Therefore, my point still stands,” You shoved your finger in his face and he grumbled in displeasure. You smirked instead of him, getting the signature family smirk on your face it only made him frown deeper.

“Alright fine, but you tell anyone I’m slightly nice you’re cut off.”

“Cut off from what? You’re inheritance? You’re broke as shit.”

“You’re way too much like your mother.”

“Aw, you think so?” You flushed fondly, “Thanks!” You chirped proudly, puffing out your chest a little bit. He scoffed tugging on your horns once more and smirked as you yelped, “Would you stop doing that!”

“Nah I don’t think I will. Especially because I know it’s bothering you.”

“Asshole.”

“That’s more like it.”

You leaned back against the back of the bench with a loud groan throwing some popcorn at him. He snickered loudly, watching you closely all in all Schlatt did enjoy today. He kissed his teeth a little, you were way smarter than everyone seemingly gave you credit for, especially Dream. When Schlatt wins this election maybe he’d give you a position in his cabinet. He thinks you would like that, finally being able to show people who’s boss and what you’re capable of, yeah that’s what he’ll do. Reluctantly Schlatt pulled you close so your head rested against his shoulder, you smiled up at him softly, all in all, it was a good end to his day.

#c!schlatt x reader #platonic schlatt x reader #Platonic Schlatt x niece reader #c!jschlatt x reader #platonic jschlatt x reader #dreamsmp x you #dreamsmp x reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #platonic x reader #platonic relationships #platonic mcyt x reader #minecraft fanfiction #minecraft x reader #minecraft x you #x reader #x you #x y/n

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freddie-weaselbee · 3 years ago

Text

Real//F.W.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language, mentions of sex, I think that’s it ?

Summary: One small favor. A trade. That was all it was. Mutually beneficial! Until things between Fred and Y/N and their new relationship get a little more complicated and cause too many prying eyes.

Prompts: Fake Dating with dialogue prompts “we could have prevented this!” and “did you know you talk in your sleep?”

Word Count: 4.7k

A/N: Day 3 of @theweasleyslut‘s 2k writing challenge

“I’ve made my list of rules which you will abide by and under no circumstances will be broken. Number 1: this ruse does not leave the shop. I don’t want random people on the street questioning me because you couldn’t keep your huge mouth shut. Number 2: I will allow you to kiss me on the cheek and forehead as often as you like, within reason of course, and you can give me a peck on the lips 3 times in total. I will keep track. And Number 3: Don’t take up the entire bed any more or I will be forced to push you onto the floor. Sound good?”

“Bloody hell, you are crazy aren’t you?”

“Just a little bit.”

Fred was starting to regret his previous decision of making this arrangement with you, but a jingle of his shop bell and glance at who was walking in quickly made those feelings disappear.

“Deal,” he said, eyes not leaving the woman who had just entered. “But we start right now and I want one of those kisses.”

You looked up at your friend, confused at his sudden nerves before you followed his line of sight and understood immediately. You sighed and ruffled your hair a bit, looking for a mirror to fix your makeup. “I’m on it, give me a few minutes.”

Fred nodded, still watching his target walk slowly through the aisles of his store. As she turned a corner you ducked into the back office, waiting for a good time to reemerge.

“Freddie!” A high pitched voice pierced through the ear, equal parts flirtatious and absolutely unbearable. Fred glanced up, pretending not to have noticed the girl before. Putting on a fake smile, he set down the product he was pretending to tinker with and placed his hands on the counter table.

“Brooklyn, hi! How are you?” he asked, hoping his fake politeness would pass as genuine.

“Ugh I am so good. So SO good actually,” she said, twisting a finger through her hair. “It’s been ages since I’ve seen you! I’m so glad you received my letter, I was hoping we could catch up, maybe over dinner sometime? I’ve had so many fine young men ask me out over the last few months, but none of them seemed to compare to you, my little Freddie Bear.”

He winced at the nickname, it bringing an onslaught of unwanted memories that he had desperately tried to forget. Brooklyn bit her lip and placed a hand on top of Fred’s, leaning in to accentuate her breasts and make sure Fred got a good whiff of her new perfume.

Very calmly, Fred placed his other hand on top of hers, now sandwiched in between his strong grip. “Brooklyn,” he said, faking sympathy, “you’re a lovely girl, and I’m sure any guy would be lucky to have you, but--”

“Hey, love!”

A voice interrupted Fred’s rejection, making a very surprised Brooklyn become absolutely enraged as she witnessed you come up and place a chaste kiss on Fred’s lips, smiling into him. Fred pulled his hands from Brooklyn’s grip and placed it instead on your hip, pulling you into him and placing another peck on your forehead. You both stared lovingly into each other’s eyes before a harsh cough stole your attention.

“And who is this?” Brooklyn asked, arms crossed angrily. She was glaring daggers at you, not even trying to fake sweetness for Fred’s sake.

Keeping his hand on your waist, Fred turned back to the girl who seemed as though she was about to explode. “That’s what I was trying to tell you Brooklyn,” he said, trying to keep his smile as pitiful as he could without it drawing suspicion. “This is Y/N, we’ve been seeing each other for a while now.”

You nuzzled into Fred’s chest for half a second before reaching a hand out to Brooklyn. “It’s so nice to meet you! Brooklyn, was it? I don’t think Fred’s ever mentioned you before, are you one of his childhood friends. Cousin, maybe?”

That had done it and you and Fred both knew it. He subtly fist bumped you under the counter as you watched the girl’s face become redder than Fred’s hair.

She opened her mouth before taking a huge breath and stepping back. “No, actually,” she said through gritted teeth. “I’m his ex-girlfriend. I left him to move on to much better things. Speaking of which--” she flipped her hair and smoothed out her skirt, straightening her posture to try to keep what little dignity she had left, “--I actually have a date. With a dragon trainer no less, and a very renowned one.”

“Oh really?” Fred asked. “That’s amazing. My brother, Charlie, is a dragon trainer as well, and he’s very well known in the community. May I ask the name of the lucky young man? Maybe Charlie knows him.”

Caught very off guard, Brooklyn rolled her eyes and turned to face the door. “That’s none of your business. I better be going, before we’re late to dinner at a very nice place, somewhere the likes of you most likely couldn’t afford.”

You felt Fred stiffen next to you and you squeezed his hand gently. “Have a nice time! It was lovely to meet you Bridget.”

“It’s Brooklyn,” she seethed.

“Oh right, silly me,” you said, shaking your head. “Bye!”

As Brooklyn sauntered out of the store, you turned to Fred and whispered seductively, just loud enough for the exiting girl to hear. “How about we have a nice night in tonight? I got something the other day that I’d love for you to see. Maybe after seeing it you’ll make me scream even louder than last night.” Fred’s face began to grow red and he had to discreetly adjust his pants, hoping you didn’t notice exactly what your words were doing to him.

Brooklyn slammed the door and practically ran down the cobbled streets, only screaming when she thought she was far enough away to not be heard. You and Fred both waited a few seconds before cheering and hugging each other, him patting you on the back for a great performance.

“Y/N! That was incredible! I knew I could count on you.”

“Yeah yeah,” you said, “I’m amazing, I know.” You smiled up at him completing the high five he was waiting on. “When you told me you needed help with a crazy ex I didn’t know you meant like actually crazy. She’s insane! How did you put up with her for so long?”

Fred shrugged, jumping up onto the counter. “She was hot and I was horny. Not much else to it.”

You rolled your eyes, jumping up to join him. A few days ago you wouldn’t have been nearly comfortable enough to lounge out on the shop’s counters like you were now, but that was before you were a permanent resident of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. Before you and Fred had made the deal.

“You want me to do what?”

“Please, Y/N, it would only be for a little while until this all dies down, I swear!”

You groaned and rubbed your temple, wondering how in the world a friendly visit to your friend’s shop would turn into something with much more commitment.

“You’re telling me that you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend? Why on earth would you need that?”

You were pacing around the shop, trying to avoid customers as to not involve them in this very personal conversation. Fred followed you, pleading for you to help him like the great friend you were.

“I told you,” he said, “after The Daily Prophet did that expo on the shop and made me and George out to be rich sexy businessmen, and I mean where’s the lie, all of my crazy exes have been sending me letters and trying to get back with me. I can’t stand it, there’s so many!”

“Yeah, you were never one for long-term relationships, were you?”

Fred hmphed but quickly picked up with his pleading once again. “You don’t understand, Y/N, it’s absolutely unbearable. It’s common knowledge that George and Angie have been going steady for years now, so he’s got pretty much no one after him. But me? I can’t handle it.”

He dramatically threw himself on one of the empty product tables, causing a couple kids to glance in your direction before quickly becoming distracted by one of the exploding jokes across the shop.

“Oh, woe is me, I have too many beautiful women throwing themselves at me, whatever am I to do?” you mocked, earning a nasty glare from your friend.

“I wouldn’t ask this of you if it wasn’t of upmost importance,” he said, straightening his tie and assuming a more business-like manner. “Those girls are crazy. Hot, yes, but crazy. And all you have to do is pretend to be dating me for a few weeks, a month at best! What do you say?”

“And what do I get out of this?” you asked. Usually, you’d never say no to helping a friend, especially Fred, but pretending to date him and having him practically use you to make other girls mad? You didn’t like the idea in the slightest. Well, maybe seeing the mad girls would be a bonus. You never cared much for most of the girls Fred went out with.

Fred’s face turned into an upward grin as he rolled his sleeves up and leaned forward. “I was hoping you’d say that. I hear that you’re looking for a place to stay, is that right?”

You nodded hesitantly, having an idea of where he was going.

“Well,” he said, pacing back and forth, “to keep up this charade we’ll need to convince everyone, including George and Angelina. You see, Angie’s friends with Alicia, one of the girls who’s been constantly OWLing me, and if she knew this was fake then she’d blow our cover for sure. Which means…”

You gulped.

“You’d have the pleasure of sharing the loft with me. You’d get a room, shared with me, and a nice living space all rent-free, and all you have to do is act all lovey-dovey and occasionally snog me. That sounds like an offer you can’t refuse.”

Unfortunately, he was right. You were tight on money at the moment and really had no other options. It was a deal you had to make if you wanted to stay afloat, no matter how much annoyance and embarrassment it would cost you.

Sighing, you let your shoulders slump, a sign of defeat. “You do know how to negotiate, don’t you?”

“Well I am a businessman.” Fred stuck out his hand, and with a slow, drawn out motion, you shook it.

It was the 4th night of living with the Weasley twins, or maybe 5th? The nights all seemed to blend together as you’d been having more fun than you had since Hogwarts. George and Angelina didn’t seem surprised at all when you and Fred told them your made up story about how you and Fred started seeing each other. In fact, they both said they always knew it would happen. You and Fred shared a laugh about that in bed that night, before he decided to take up all of the space on the small piece of furniture, prompting you to write your third rule.

Overall, it had been a great experience. Couples game night, movie marathons, gossip sessions with Angelina about you and Fred’s sex life (which you didn’t have to fabricate too much, you already knew too much from the incredible amounts of detail he used to provide about his dates with other girls). It was like being thrown back into a dorm room, and your old teenage self was starting to shine through again.

You stared at yourself in Fred’s bathroom mirror, very proud of how you handled Brooklyn earlier that day. She was one of the few girlfriends of Fred’s you never got to meet, probably because they only dated for a short period of time before she left him for the first rich snob to bat an eye at her. Out of everyone you could think of that he dated, she was by far the worst, which meant the next few days would probably be more difficult. It was easy making that bitch angry with smoke coming from her ears, but you didn’t know how good you’d feel about lying to someone a lot nicer than she was.

After brushing your teeth and donning your pajamas, your Hogwarts house colors of course, you crawled into bed and joined Fred, who was reading one of the novels you had recommended to him. “You like it so far?” you asked.

Fred took off his reading glasses and nodded, setting a bookmark in the book before placing it on his nightstand. “Surprisingly, yes. I didn’t think it would be my thing, but so far it’s actually really good.”

“Told ya,” you said as you laid down beside him. You and Fred were comfortable enough to share a bed with few problems except for his stupid long legs. You’d been friends for years and had grown way too comfortable with each other, so squeezing together each night wasn’t too out of the ordinary.

As you snuggled into the covers, Fred following suit, you mentally went over the schedule for the week.

“How many girls are there again?”

Fred paused for a moment, trying to remember what he had sent to each girl. “A few I was able to ward off via letter, the more sane ones, but there are still two more girls who insisted they pay me a visit. Addison’s coming tomorrow and Alicia the day after that.”

You nodded, although you ducted Fred could see it from his position. “Got it. Addison’s sweet, I liked her.”

Fred scoffed, wrapping an arm around your waist as he had started doing while you two slept. It was nothing more than platonic, Fred was just a touchy person. You told yourself he would do this with any semi-attractive girl laying in his bed.

“Yeah, sweet girl all right, until you come home to your entire apartment torn apart cuz she thought you were cheating on her because apparently you ‘took an extra 12 minutes of lunch break and it seemed awfully suspicious.’”

Your body reverberated with a small giggle, remembering how Fred had to crash with you at your old place while he was trying to replace all the furniture she had literally torn up. “That’s right, she’s almost as crazy as I am.”

“Almost.”

You wouldn’t have a hard time lying to Addison, you decided. It was actually kind of fun when you did it with Brooklyn. You could get really creative with this one.

You released a deep breath and closed your eyes, nestling back into Fred as he spooned you, claiming it was the only way he wouldn’t sprawl out and kick you in your sleep, which you knew was a lie. He’d find a way to kick you somehow. The git always did.

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

“That was surprisingly better than expected!”

You nodded gleefully, handing Fred a scone and coffee that you had picked up from a nearby bakery. Scaring off Addison had been even more fun than Brooklyn, you and Fred really getting into character and being as lovey dovey as possible. She seemed to take it well, but you wouldn’t be surprised if she triggered the security system tonight trying to break in and destroy the shop.

“And if I’m being honest it was actually kind of fun,” you told him, settling in behind the counter.

You raised your muffin to your mouth to take a bite but Fred’s huge mouth snagged a taste before you could, bending down and taking a chunk out before you could have any. “That’s disgusting,” but you had no disgust lingering in your tone.

“I agree,” he said through mouthfuls of muffin. “It was an excellent way to spend the morning. Bloody hell she would not leave!”

“At least she was nice about it.”

Fred reluctantly agreed before making another move to your muffin, one that this time you anticipated and you swatted his nose with a nearby newspaper. “You have your own, you greedy pig.”

He yanked the paper from your hand, using it as a napkin before the front page caught his eye. He quickly crumpled up the paper and tossed it into a nearby waste bin, something you wouldn’t have been suspicious of had he not done it so nervously.

“Fred, what’s in the paper today?”

He shifted to put himself in between you and the wastebin, his tall figure looming over you. “Not important, just more junk that no one cares about.”

You didn’t believe him for a second. “Frederick Weasley you move this instant.” You tried pushing him out of the way but it was like moving an annoying ginger stone wall. Trying another approach, you darted to the left before doubling back and running right, but before you made it two steps he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder. “Fred!”

You wiggled with all your might and finally made it out of his grasp, snatching the paper and unfolding it to read the headline.

Diagon Alley Playboy Finally Settling Down? Or Is Y/N L/N Just Another of Fred Weasley’s One Night Stands?

The color drained from your face and you slowly lowered the paper, reading the front page again and again. Attached was a blurry picture of you and Fred from the day before with you tucked into the side. The buggers at The Daily Prophet must’ve caught it through the store window.

“I’m sorry,” Fred said softly, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I tried to keep things quiet, but I guess the press always finds a way in.”

You rubbed your temple slowly, trying to ignore the dread in your stomach. After seeing Harry Potter be brutally torn apart by the press for years, the last thing you wanted was rumors about you going around.

"We could have prevented this!” you exclaimed, slamming the paper onto the desk. “This is complete bullshit. We’re not even dating! I swear I’m going to march straight to their office and--”

“Don’t bother,” Fred said, completely exasperated by the constant coverage of his family. “It does absolutely nothing, trust me. As a close relative to a professional Quidditch player, The Chosen One himself, and his two best friends who literally saved the world, we’ve learned that nothing will keep them away. Especially since they pinned me as the player of the Weasley family.”

“But you’re not!” you said, getting angrier by the second. “So your relationships don’t last long, so what? You’re not some womanizing piece of shit that the papers say you are!”

Chuckling, Fred replied. “I know that, and you know that. But the rest of the world wants drama, so if they want to think I have a new girl in my bed every night I’ll let them.” He shrugged. “You get used to it after a while.”

“Well you shouldn’t have to,” you grumbled. “You’re one of the best people I know, and the world should know it too.”

Catching you off guard, you felt a pair of arms wrap around your torso and a head lay on your shoulder. “It’s ok, love, just one more day and then you can stay out of the papers forever, I promise.”

Sighing, you turned to face him and let a small smile shine through. “Thanks. But I still think it’s absolute rubbish what they’re doing to your character.”

“Me too, but at least you know what a charming and caring gentleman I am and that’s all that matters to me.”

“Aww,” you coed, “you love me don’t you?”

“Shh, don’t let the press hear! It’ll ruin the image they worked so hard to create.”

You hit your head against Fred’s chest. “Only one more day of this. One more to go.”

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

“Do you know you talk in your sleep?”

“What?” You were so busy trying to find something to wear that you had barely heard what Fred said.

“Last night, when you fell asleep. You said something funny.” He was sitting on the bed, adjusting his work tie and pulling on his socks and shoes. He looked...confused. Like he was trying to solve a complicated problem and he just couldn’t git the pieces together.

“Oh?” you said, growing nervous. Had you dreamt last night? You were racking your brain, hoping you hadn’t said something embarrassing.

You definitely had a dream, and Fred was there. You were at the shop...and Alicia came in! And…

“You were saying ‘Alicia, no, Fred’s mine not yours, I love Fred,” and umm, other stuff like that.” His face was heating up by the second, as was yours.

“Really?” you said through awkward laughs. “Must’ve been preparing for today, huh?”

Fred said nothing, instead choosing to focus on retying his shoes.

“Well,” you said, finally picking out your outfit, “I’m going to change, I’ll meet you down there later, ok?”

He nodded, still confused, and you rushed to use his bathroom before things could get more awkward.

You decided to take a nice, long shower to cool down, hoping that you could somehow wash away the embarrassment. So maybe you had a slight crush on Fred. Who could blame you? You’d been spending the last week cuddled up with him and spending so much time at the shop, not to mention acting like a couple in front of everyone. Who wouldn’t develop feelings?

But for some weird reason you had a feeling that this wasn’t a recent crush, rather something that’s been lurking right beneath the surface for a while. You groaned, hitting your head against the shower wall. This was not the time for this. You had a job to do, and Alicia would be here in 30 minutes so you had to hurry up.

Scampering down the steps 15 minutes later after using a drying spell and getting dressed, you stopped in your tracks when you saw what was happening across the shop. Alicia was here early.

From the looks of it, she had already made herself comfortable, leaning in to talk to Fred, who wasn’t doing anything to discourage the behavior. Instead, he was leaning in as well, laughing at a joke she just made.

Fury burned inside you as you watched the scene unfold. You knew from the beginning that Alicia would be the hardest ex to deal with. Not only had she been Fred’s longest and most intimate relationship to date, but she was also a really nice person, meaning you had no reason to hate her. But at this moment you did.

Alicia leaned closer, her nose almost touching Fred. What should you do? Did he want your help getting rid of her? Was he still harboring feelings and actually looking to reconnect? You saw him slowly lean in toward her, which you took as a sign to continue with your plan.

You were almost running when you reached Fred, who turned and seemed happy to see you. “Just in time,” he said the Alicia, “Alicia, you remember--”

You cut him off with a kiss, the third kiss you’d promised him. Except this one wasn’t one of the pecks you described on your terms and conditions. You pulled Fred down into one of if not the most passionate kiss you’d ever had, wrapping your arms around his neck and drawing him closer to you.

Almost immediately he pulled off of you, looking more bewildered than you had ever seen him. “I…”

“Well that was quite the spectacle.”

You looked over to where Alicia was standing, smirking at the two of you. Contrary to what you had expected, she actually seemed rather calm and actually amused at what she had just seen.

“S-sorry,” you said. Fred tried to say something but he was too dumbstruck to even get a word out. He just stood there, eyes wide and mouth twitching.

“Is this a bad time?” she asked. “I’m supposed to be meeting my fiancé for breakfast later so I can just come back another time if that works for you.”

“Your...fiancé?”

“Yeah!” Alicia beamed as she showed you her left hand, her ring finger adorned with the most beautiful engagement ring you’d ever seen. “Actually, the reason I’m here is because I just asked Fred if he wanted to be in the wedding as a groomsman. Or bridesmaid. Whatever works for him. Thankfully the big oaf said yes before you laid that on him, or else I think I’d be waiting a lot longer for an answer.”

Fred was still as frozen as ever, making you and Alicia chuckle. “Hey, it’s been forever since we’ve caught up, how about you and Fred go on a double date with me and Lee sometime?”

It took you a second to understand why Lee would be there, until it dawned on you. “You’re marrying Lee Jordan?!”

She couldn’t hold back her laughter at this, loving to see your reaction. “That I am! You’re obviously invited, I’m sending invitations out soon. I’ll hope to see you there, and don’t be afraid to reach out, alright?”

“Y-yeah, will do,” you said. Alicia looked up at Fred and then to you and winked, before waving goodbye and leaving the shop.

You refused to make eye contact with Fred, too embarrassed to even begin to talk to him. Maybe you’d just take 5 and take a walk down the street? That would help distract your brain from whatever just happened.

“Real?”

You turned around to the source of the voice, a now more interactive Fred. “What?”

“Real,” he repeated. He shook his head a few times, blinking rapidly. “Sorry, I just mean, that kiss was umm, it was real.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. The fact that you had kissed Fred, and an actual kiss at that, was finally hitting you. “Yeah, it was real, I guess.”

He took a step closer, his face assuming the puzzled look from the bedroom earlier. “Was...was what you said real too? From the dream, I mean?”

Now it was you who was frozen, feet stuck to the ground with no way out. What should you say? Confess your feelings and hope for the best? Or deny everything and try to work your way around this mess? You didn’t have time to think nor ration. Just act.

“Yeah. It was real.”

Fred nodded, pursing his lips and shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Cool.” He hesitated. “Would it be super crazy out of the blue if I asked you to maybe go out with me sometime. For real?”

A smile rose to your face, hoping that this wasn’t a joke. Slowly, almost shyly, you nodded. “Yeah, it would be a little crazy. But I’d say yes.”

Fred smiled too, a big toothy grin that only made you smile wider, before pulling you into a side hug. “Good, because you’re a little crazy too, so we’ll match on our date.”

“You’re a big dork,” you said, returning the hug. “What will the paper say when they see you with the same girl? They’ll probably explode!”

“I hope so,” he replied as he gave you a loving squeeze. “What I’m worried about is how we’re supposed to explain to George and Angelina that we’ve been faking this whole time and it’s only now getting real.”

“Eh, that’s a problem for another time. Right now, we’ve got some more pressing matters.” You gestured to the front window where a reporter was holding a huge camera, trying to snap a good picture of the two of you.

“I’ll handle it, grab me the dungbombs.”

“Yes, sir!”

You ran to assist Fred, head rushing with thoughts of first dates and future ones down the road. Of attending Lee and Alicia’s wedding together and getting completely wasted with each other. Of sleeping together each night, holding each other in an embrace that was now true and deep and caring. In a relationship that was now real.

Tag List:

@famdomhideout @amourtentiaa

#theweasleyslut's 2k writing challenge #fredweasleyimagine #fredweasley #fred #fred x reader #fred weasley x reader #fake dating #fake dating au #freddie

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opheliawillowbrook · 3 years ago

Text

How the Cookie Crumbles

To say his brothers fought would be an understatement: They warred. That. That was the better word. However, it was Dick who was the peacemaker among them. The mediator extraordinaire, translating all his brothers’ woes and misunderstandings into less doom-pending transgressions. But to say this unofficial, yet very necessary part he played was tasking was yet another understatement of unspeakable proportions. It was a FUCKING LOT.

“I swear to God, Drake. You and Brown are a special kind of stupid.”

“Shut up, Damian! It’s a good idea!” Tim grumbled in reply.

“Yeah! You’re just mad you didn’t think of it first!”

Dick’s face fell upon hearing the argument and considered turning the other way, but he’d learned the hard way that his lack of interference could result in bloodshed. Damian did have a history of stabbing Tim, and Robin had an impressive body count, according to Jason. I’d better make sure he doesn’t add two more.

“Well, fuck me and my entire life,” Dick droned in frustration. “What are you three bitching about now?”

“Damian keeps saying our idea is stupid,” Stephanie tattled.

“Yeah!” Tim added with crossed arms. “He says we lack the fortitude for good ideas!”

“You do!” the current robin exclaimed.

“Damian?”

The youngest batboy rolled his eyes and reasoned, “Listen, I know these two brain donors barely have two brain cells to rub between them—”

“That’s not the only thing they rub!” Jason called from the other room.

Damian again rolled his eyes in contempt and continued, “And I’ve accepted, as a member of this family, that everyone gets to act a little stupid from time to time. However, as much as I would like to respect their commitment to their shared stupidity, I feel as if they are abusing the privilege and it needs to stop before one of them gets hurt.”

“Wow, he actually cares,” Jason added from still in another room.

“Have you been sitting there listening the whole time?” Dick asked, near facepalm.

“Affirmative,” Jason confirmed, entering from the hall.

“And you did nothing to stop them fighting?”

“It’s funnier this way.”

“Do I always have to be the responsible one?”

“Affirmative,” all four said with little thought.

“Okay then,” Dick sighed with reluctance. “Damian, I know you find it hard to accept the choices of others, but you need to understand that free choice and expression is about accepting that others may not make the same choices as you, and that’s okay. It’s the same as you choosing not to take my dating advice and ask Raven out because you’re afraid of rejection—”

“Shut up, Grayson! This isn’t about me!!!” Damian spat.

“Damian has the hots for Raven?” Jason teased. “You have good taste, Mighty Mouse. She got a great—”

“Don’t even finish that sentence, Todd!” Dick and Damian ordered in unison.

“I was gonna say personality,” Jason droned. “Get your minds out of the gutter. I mean for fuck’ sake.”

“Sure you were,” Tim replied with a glower.

“Yeah Tim, cause you never stare at her tits while you talk to her,” Jason added, throwing him doubly under the bus.

“Dude, are you trying to get me killed?” Tim said, shooting an elbow into his brother’s ribs as Damian and Stephanie both glared. Spurring Dick into a further mood for murder.

“My point being is, just because you don’t like other peoples’ ideas, doesn’t mean they’re stupid.”

“Tell them the idea, guys!” Jason urged, stirring the pot.

Stephanie and Tim looked at each other and nodded, as though they’d discovered the holy grail itself. “We’re gonna write a series of YA novels and sell them on the web!” Steph sang optimistically.

“Yeah, it’s a huge and diverse market,” Tim added.

“And with established characters, we’ll make a killing.”

Dick’s brow furrowed. “That sounds like fanfiction?”

“It sounds like utter bullshit,” Damian sneered, not single fuck given.

“It’s not bullshit,” Tim snapped. “YA novels make up a huge portion of the market. People love those things.”

“Then name one YA novel that has sold more than a manga in the last 10 years?”

Tim shrugged. “I can’t think of one at the top of my head, but there they definitely exist and sell.”

“Yeah, so does my fanfiction based on this family,” Jason added under his breath.

“What?” Everyone asked.

“Nothing. Continue.”

“So anyway, I told Damian it’s a foolproof plan.”

Dick rolled his eyes with a bit of doubt, but who was he to judge or discourage their creativity. I mean, he dropped out of college after all? “I’m not saying I believe it’s bulletproof, because frankly, nothing is. But I’m curious why you would consider telling Damian? I mean, he hates most things.”

“And Drake. I hate Drake.”

“We’re all very aware, Dami,” Dick drawled in annoyance. “But yeah, why would you tell him anything important to you? Especially that?”

“Well, we kinda needed a loan. I knew Bruce would undoubtedly say no and, well, Damian has money.”

“Because I make good business decisions.”

“I don’t know why I thought of asking you?”

“You didn’t, Jason told you to,” Stephanie confessed, recalling an earlier conversation.

“Jason, really?” Dick tsked.

“Hey, Damian does make good business decisions. Who do you think cleans and invests money? It’s certainly not Alfred.”

“Because Alfred would have nothing to do with your blood money, Jason. And Damian, I’m very disappointed in you!”

“Grayson, I don’t know what high horse you are riding on today, but you better come off it. Father told me if I wanted money, that I needed to earn it and that I should get a job. So I got one.”

“Laundering money for Red Hood’s criminal Enterprise is not a job!”

“Actually it is. Mighty Mouse made us an LLC and everything. I own several Wash & Folds, all legitimate! Thanks to Hell Spawn here! I’m actually considering making him a partner.”

“So will your LLC fund our YA Novels?”

“Oh fuck no!”

“Come on, Jay! We have a solid business plan,” Stephanie pleased.

“You’re business plan is a bunch of meaningless numbers written on the back of a napkin and poorly illustrated versions of us,” Damian said, holding up the napkin in question.

“Okay, so it’s not the final draft, but we’re working on it!” Tim said pointedly.

“Yeah, as tempting as this all sounds, I didn’t make my money making half baked business decisions,” Jason reasoned

“No, you made it by taking over Gotham’s drug trade,” Dick clarified with disapproval.

“Which was a solid business decision.”

“Why do I even talk to you?”

“I don’t know why I talk to any of you,” Damian scowled, arms crossed, grateful there was no shared genetics between him and his adoptive kin. “I don’t understand what father saw in any of you.

“I can’t answer that,” Jason replied. “However, I can tell you, from personal experience, what he saw in your mom.”

“Do you wanna die, Todd?”

“Do you wanna not have a job?” Jason wanted. “Also, been there done that. But hey, if I died twice then I’d have buffy status so don’t threaten me with a good time, kid.”

“On that note, I’m leaving,” Damian grimaced. “I have to meet Raven, anyway.”

“Oh,” Dick sang. “You have a date!”

“It’s not a date.”

“Bet you wish it was a date,” Stephanie teased. “Y’know, if you just stopped acting like a dick all the time, I bet she’d go out with you.”

“Shut up, Brown.”

“Oh no,” Dick smiled. “I know it’s hard to believe, but he’s nice to Raven.”

“Hey keep that shit up,” Jason added. “If you’re nice to her, she’d be nice to you!”

“I hate all of you,” Damian proclaimed and stormed away.

“Fuck you too! See you at work Monday! Jason called, earning a tiger middle finger.

“He might be an asshole, but he’s a good kid,” Jason nodded with a sense of pride, causing to Dick to silently scoff. “Still needs to get laid though.”

“Bruce is gonna be so pissed when he finds out you pulled Dami into your bullshit.”

“You’re using Raven’s pet name for him now?” Jason mocked. “And fucker’s gonna have to prove it first; there’s a reason I hired ‘Dami’ for that job.”

“Dude, fuck you; dig your grave,” Dick lamented. “And don’t come at me with one of your tired ass death jokes, they’re getting old.”

“Suit yourself,” the Outlaw glowered as silence set in.

“So Dick,” Tim dared sheepishly. “You, um, wanna invest in--”

“Absolutely not,” the elder hero replied.

Leaving Jason to chuckle. “And that’s the way the cookie crumbled.”

If you enjoyed that feel free to leave me kudos 👉 here on Ao3 lol. If you have any remdom prompts send them my way; maybe I’ll feel inspired 😘

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thatharringrovehoe · 3 years ago

Text

Part 1

Dear Steve

Bambi

Princess

Harrington. I know I'm never going to give you this. So I guess I can write whatever the fuck I want. It's not gunna matter when I leave anyway so. I'm really fucking sorry I kicked the shit out of you. There was a lot of shit I was dealing with that night and you happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. The plate was to much. Now that I know you a little better I know you weren't doing any perv shit with Max. She won't tell me what happened that night, but she kept a copy of one of the NDA's she signed. So whatever the fuck it was I know you protected her. After I beat the shit out of you. Fuck. I'm sorry I'm a coward and you're never going to read this. But I just can't. I knew I was gunna get stupid over you as soon as I pulled up that first day at school. Saw you standing with Wheeler by you fancy ass car and wanted to throw you into the back of the Camaro, treat you right. But I couldn't. I can't. My dad would kill me. And I mean literally. It's the reason we moved to this bum fuck nowhere town. He caught me sucking off some cute twink by the boardwalk and kicked my ass all the way to Sunday. I was in the hospital for a week and by the time they discharged me we were moving the next day. Guess he figured Hawkins was gunna set me straight. Which jokes on him cuz I met the prettiest boy I had ever fuckin seen. Fell halfway in love with him when he punched me in the face that November. Fell the rest of the way when he let me stay at his place after my dad laid into me real bad three months later. Told me I didn't deserve it. Broke out his dads fancy scotch and we got black out drunk at 3 in the morning on a Tuesday. Fuck I wish I could tell you. Because I'm gunna miss you so goddamn much when I go back to Cali. You don't know how many times I almost asked you to come with me. I could teach you to surf and we'd both get crappy jobs. Rent a shoebox apartment. But I then I think of that family you talk about. The kids and the dog and the white picket fence. I can't give you those things. I can't ask you to give up those things. Hell you don't even like men so even if I could it wouldn't matter. It's why I can't give you this letter. It's why I gotta high tail it back to Cali the day I graduate without telling you. Because I know if I see you I won't be able to. I can't say goodbye to you Bambi. I'd end up staying in this shit town just to be near you. Live the rest of my life dying inside while you fall in love with some pretty rich girl and raise those kids you want so bad in your nice big house. I gotta leave for the both of us. Because I love you.

Steve crumples up the note after reading it for what must be the 500th time. Twists it gently in his hands as he waits on the stoop of what is hopefully Billy's apartment complex. God this was a stupid idea. It's been six whole months since Billy up and left without a fucking word. He's probably over Steve. Hell he probably has a boyfriend. Looking the way Billy does Steve wouldn't be surprised. Gutted but not surprised. The California sun beats down on him as he waits for Billy to get home. Whenever that is. It's December and Steve's body is used to frigid Indiana winters. Not this sunny sea breeze heat. He twists the note a little harder, bounces his leg as he waits and waits and waits. God he's drawing some looks. Probably. He's been sitting here for going on two hours now and is starting to realize packing up his BMW with a bag of essentials with nothing but a note and a maybe address to go confront the love of his life was probably not a very well thought out plan. God what was he even gunna say?

Hey Billy, Max found your note while taking out the trash and gave it to me because she knew I was fucking heartbroken when you up and ditched me without a word. And I just thought I would drive for three whole days just to see if you still mean it even though it's been half a year and you've probably forgotten all about me and I'm sorry I never told you that I lo-

"Steve?"

Steve's head whips up and his heart fucking skips what must be 10 whole beats. That can't be healthy. Because there stands Billy fucking Hargrove carrying a paper bag of what is probably groceries. God he looks good. His hair is longer, dirty blonde curls reaching just past his shoulders. His skin is a deeper shade of tan under his white wife beater and denim shorts. And beyond all that he looks, relaxed. Carries himself with an ease he didn't have back in Hawkins. California has been good to him.

"What are you doing here?"

What the fuck is Steve doing here? When Max gave him the note he hadn't even thought about not going to see Billy. Had begged her for the address Billy had given her before he left just in case shit with Neil ever got bad. In case she needed to leave. But they hadn't spoken since and there was no guarantee that Billy hadn't moved. That he'd even made it to California at all. Just packed his car and drove. He feels kind of stupid now. Kind of wishes he had thought of something to say before hand instead of just flying by the seat of his pants.

"Hello Earth to Harrington?"

Right. Fuck. He's just been staring at Billy like a fucking freak.

"I- uh. Hi Billy."

Wow Steven real smooth. Great Job. Very natural.

"I just um. I...got your letter."

Billy looks confused. Fuck, he did forget. You're an idiot Steve Harrington.

"You know what I'm starting to realize I may have jumped the gun here and uh.. I'm gunna go."

He stands up from the cement steps and feels the stretch of his sore muscles. He hadn't really moved once he sat down to wait. Billy puts down his groceries.

"Woe woe hey you don't have to-.. Oh shit."

When Steve looks over at Billy he's gone a little pale despite the tan. Is staring with wide eyes at the crumpled stationary clutched in Steve's fist.

"Steve. I can..Fuck I can explain."

And you know what? Fuck this. Steve doesn't need to hear this when he already feels like the worlds biggest fucking loser. Drove all the way across the country just to see a boy who had moved on. Had left Steve behind. Just like everyone else.

#the hoe writes #harringrove #billy hargrove/steve harrington #billy hargrove #Part 1

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flowercrown-bard · 3 years ago

Note

35 for Geraskier? :3

thank you so much for the prompt! And also, I would like to apologise. I had the most cursed thought about how to end this and I wasn't going to actually write that, but you know sometimes you have an idea so bad that you just know you would forever regret it if you didn't do it

prompt: Bets/teasing with increasing physical stakes makes character confront their feelings

word count: 5k

kind of inspired by the song "anything you can do I can do better"

content warning: brief mention of injury (no detailed description)

Anything you can do, I can do better

“You know you could help me, right?” Jaskier’s tongue peeked through his lips in concentration. “All you need is a little magic-“ he wiggled his fingers through the air uselessly, letting the sticks he had been holding before fall to the forest floor. “-and we would have a fire. Easy as that. So why, oh, why do you insist on torturing me thus?”

Geralt had to bite back his grin when Jaskier turned his big pleading eyes on him. “I thought you said you were ‘perfectly fit to travel through the wilderness’.”

Jaskier abandoned his fruitless attempt at making a fire for good and his puppy eyes turned into a glare. “I am! Just because you decided to be a prick about it, doesn’t mean I’m useless.”

“You almost stepped into the snare I had set up to hunt our dinner.”

Jaskier crossed his arms in front of his chest and lifted his chin in defiance. “Your point?”

“My point is that you wouldn’t survive a day without me out here.”

“Well, good thing I don’t want –“ Jaskier broke off and his eyes narrowed. “Wait. Are you…” he came closer to Geralt, who barely could keep his shoulders from shaking. “Are you laughing at me? Geralt, how dare you!”

A snorting laugh slipped past Geralt’s lips and he no longer fought back the grin. “I would never dare do such a thing.”

“Oh, no. That’s it.” Jaskier jabbed a finger at Geralt’s chest in outrage. “I am going to prove to you that I am just as good as you are at surviving out here. No, I am better.”

For a long moment Geralt only stared at him. “I am a witcher. I am enhanced and trained specifically to survive out in the wild. You are a bard.”

“And I am stubborn and pissed off. And I know that I can do anything better than you.”

Geralt threw a pointed look at the sad attempt at making a camp fire. Jaskier cringed and shrugged his shoulders. “Magic doesn’t count.”

“Alright then,” Geralt sighed, but his lips twitched up when Jaskier’s eyes lit up with determination. “How about you prove how good you are by setting up the tent?”

“Psh, that’s easy.” When Geralt sceptically lifted a brow, Jaskier added, “I am a travelling bard. Do have some trust in me.”

Geralt watched in amusement as Jaskier strode off to go about his task. At least for the time being the bard would be distracted. Geralt knew there wasn’t a chance that Jaskier would actually succeed in setting up the tent, but it was strangely endearing to watch him bite back frustrated curses as he got tangled up in the fabric. And maybe, just maybe Geralt was preparing his ‘I told you so’ for when Jaskier finally admitted defeat and asked Geralt for help.

Except, that didn’t happen. Against all expectations, Jaskier managed to build the tent and it didn’t even take him too long.

Geralt stared at him, taken aback. Clearly Jaskier noticed Geralt’s surprise, for the smug grin he wore only got wider and he put one hand on his hips, gesturing towards the tent with the other.

“There you have it. I dare you to tell me again that I’m not as good as you are.”

“You are not,” Geralt said, more to watch Jaskier splutter in indignation than anything else.

He wasn’t disappointed.

“I am able to prepare us dinner,” Geralt said, taking out his knife.

“Oh please, now you’re just being ridiculous.” Jaskier rolled his eyes with a huff. “We both know that before I came along, you only used salt and pepper to spice your food. If even that much.”

Geralt shrugged. “I never said it tasted good. I just said I was able to prepare it.”

Jaskier’s eyes crinkled as his grin became triumphant. “Aha! So you admit it. I am better at cooking than you.”

“If you think so, then I’m sure you’ll have no problem preparing these.” Geralt did his best to keep his expression carefully neutral as he held the rabbit he had caught out to Jaskier.

Jaskier blanched at the sight. A hint of guilt battled with the satisfaction of seeing Jaskier give up on his stubbornness and he was just about to take the rabbit back and skin it himself, when Jaskier took it away from him, though he held it in the same way a lordling might hold a wet frog.

Over the next days, Geralt started having more and more fun with this. No matter what he told Jaskier to do, he jumped at the opportunity to prove himself. At this point, Geralt wasn’t really sure anymore what exactly Jaskier was trying to prove.

It was obvious that Geralt’s increasingly ridiculous bets were nothing that would prove anything to Geralt other than that Jaskier was a stubborn idiot who would rather attempt to chop down a small tree than give up, though he had done that particular task while throwing glares at Geralt every other second. It had been fun to watch Jaskier grit his teeth and try to succeed in this utterly useless task.

It had become slightly less fun when Jaskier had become so exhausted that he had to shrug off his chemise, revealing his skin that glistened with sweat.

Seeing Jaskier like this – seeing the muscles in his shoulders and arms flex as he swung the axe – was strange. It felt wrong. At least that was the only explanation Geralt had for the strange twist in his guts as he watched his friend. And the only reason why his mouth went dry when he later massaged Jaskier’s sore back to get the tension he was responsible for, was because he felt guilty.

He should have stopped then.

He didn’t. Not when they were making camp and not now that Jaskier was walking beside Roach, humming the same melody for the umpteenth time.

Just to see Jaskier’s reaction, Geralt now said, “I bet you can’t stay silent for longer than I can.”

He threw a glance at Jaskier out of the corner of his eye. Jaskier had stopped walking and was opening his mouth to protest. Geralt lifted his brows and cocked his head to the side, the corners of his lips twitching.

Jaskier narrowed his eyes, but no sound left him. Instead, he mouthed something at Geralt that he was sure must be some sort of insult, before hurrying after Geralt.

It became clear quickly that this might just be the hardest task for Jaskier. Chopping wood and skinning rabbits was one thing. Evidently, Jaskier’s stubbornness gave him extra strength and the ability to swallow his disgust. But staying quiet? He looked as if he was ready to through the towel right then and there, and not even a full minute had passed.

Geralt was almost fully convinced that the only reason Jaskier remained silent was that every time his fidgeting got worse and he looked like he was about to open his mouth to say something, he caught Geralt’s eyes. Within a heartbeat that determination was back in his eyes and he snapped his mouth shut.

Geralt was almost impressed. He should have known that Jaskier would play dirty.

He started to poke Geralt’s legs, pull at his boots and open their straps.

Any glare of Geralt’s was only answered with a shit eating grin and a shrug that screamed ‘You said nothing about me getting you to talk first.’

Too bad that Jaskier wasn’t the only stubborn one between the two of them.

Geralt remained stoic, no matter what Jaskier tried to grate on his nerves. He was content to ignore him. After all, Geralt had plenty of practice tuning out Jaskier’s singing, he would have no problem ignoring the way Jaskier –

Eyes wide and mouth opened into a silent cry, Jaskier stumbled. He fell forward, his arms flailing to protect his lute.

Without needing to think about what he was doing, Geralt reached down and grabbed Jaskier by the scruff of the neck, steadying him.

“Careful,” he growled.

And Jaskier…Jaskier turned to him with the most self-satisfied expression Geralt had ever seen on him.

“Told you,” Jaskier said cheerily. “I anything you can do-“

“Jaskier,” Geralt warned, but he failed to keep the amusement out of his voice. There was too much joy in Jaskier’s eyes to dampen his mood with Geralt’s broodiness.

“Which makes me think,” Jaskier tilted his head in contemplation. “Not that we’ve determined that I can keep quiet for longer –“

“Because you cheated.”

“Because I can keep quiet for longer,” Jaskier repeated, emphatically ignoring Geralt’s protest, “We should see if you can talk for longer than me.”

“No we shouldn’t.”

Jaskier skipped a couple of steps ahead, until he was walking right before Roach, turning around so he was walking still facing Geralt as he walked. “Whyever not?”

“Because this thing we’re doing isn’t about me,” Geralt replied with a huff. “And talking is no valuable life skill.”

The gasp Jaskier let out could put any actor delivering their final monologue to shame in how theatrical it was. Jaskier clutched a hand over his chest and pointed an accusatory finger at Geralt.

“The audacity!” Jaskier gave Roach a long-suffering look, as if she would understand his woe and agree with him. “Geralt. My dearest friend. You can be such a smart man, but what you said just now? That was the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Ever heard yourself talking?”

“Don’t try to distract me with insults. I have lived at court, trading insults is a battle you won’t win. Speaking of which, talking might not be important in the woods, but it sure is invaluable when you want rich people to pay you, which – oh! Wait. That is exactly what you want.”

Geralt grunted. “Your point?”

Jaskier’s lips stretched into a grin. He lowered his voice into a very bad imitation of Geralt’s growl, when he said, “My point is that you wouldn’t survive at court without me out here.” His voice jumped back to its normal pitch. “In other words, you need me.”

Geralt scoffed, though for some reason he liked the certainty with which Jaskier said those words.

“I really don’t.”

“Prove it then.”

“What?”

Jaskier stopped, forcing Roach to come to a halt as well.

“I said prove it. I don’t see why I’m the only one that needs to prove that I’m a worthy travel companion – “

“It was your idea,” Geralt grumbled.

“-so, how about this: I continue to do everything you think I need to be able to do out here and you prove to me that you could survive at court.”

“I don’t want to survive at court. And I don’t have to prove anything.”

Jaskier’s brows rose and he lifted his chin in a challenge. “Sounds to me like you’re scared.”

Geralt glowered at Jaskier. He could just guide Roach to walk around Jaskier. He could just ignore that stupid challenge.

But Jaskier had that look on his face. It was infuriating. Geralt never stood a chance against that look.

He jumped off Roach and walked over to Jaskier, trying to make himself look as menacing as possible, until they stood almost chest to chest.

He could see Jaskier’s throat bob as he swallowed. Geralt leaned in until their noses were almost touching.

“You’re on,” he growled, before he turned away from Jaskier and made to get onto Roach.

He was stopped by Jaskier clearing his throat.

“Actually,” Jaskier drawled. “At court it’s considered very impolite to ride on a horse while your companion is walking.”

Geralt’s brows drew together. “I’m not letting you ride Roach.”

Jaskier let out a short laugh. “Oh, don’t you worry, I am out of practice anyway.” He stepped to the side to make space for Geralt to walk next to him while leading Roach. “But I bet you can’t walk for hours as you make me do.”

It became clear quite quickly that Geralt had underestimated Jaskier’s ability to be petty. Obviously most of what Jaskier made him do now was revenge for the ridiculous tasks Geralt had given Jaskier.

Well, two could play this game. And oh, how they did. For weeks they went back and forth, Geralt giving Jaskier a task that he performed with gritted teeth and Jaskier enacting his revenge by making Geralt do all sorts of ridiculous things. One would think that sooner or later one of them would run out of ideas, but Geralt had been walking the Path long enough to know that there were never enough skills to have and whatever could be said about Jaskier, no one could deny that he was creative.

And of course neither one of them was willing to back down from a challenge.

Which was the reason why Geralt disguised his obligatory protest at Jaskier’s newest demand as a clever explanation for why he can’t possibly do what Jaskier dared him to.

“How on earth am I supposed to ‘dress appropriately for court’ when I don’t have any fancy clothes with me.”

Jaskier put his hands on his hips. “You would have, if you had listened to me when I had asked you to come to the tailor with me.”

Geralt pinched the bridge of his nose. “That was back in Touissant. Months ago.” He gestured to the trees surrounding them. “I don’t think there’s a tailor anywhere close.”

Jaskier opened his mouth before letting it snap shut again.

“What?” Geralt demanded.

A blush crept across Jaskier’s cheeks and he averted his eyes. “Nothing it’s just…There are courtly clothes here. Myclothes.”

Geralt’s mouth went dry. “You want…” His eyes drifted to the doublet Jaskier was wearing. Without wanting to, he imagined Jaskier opening the buttons one by one and giving Geralt his own doublet.

When Geralt didn’t resume talking, Jaskier’s eyes darted back to him. For a moment he looked confused before his expression morphed into one of panic. “Oh, gods, no, that’s not what I – no. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t make you…” Jaskier cut himself off and went over to his bags, rummaging through them for long enough that Geralt began to wonder if maybe he was just trying to avoid looking at Geralt. Finally, Jaskier came back with a triumphant sound that didn’t bode well for Geralt and a deep purple doublet.

“No,” Geralt said firmly, as he eyed the garment in distaste. “I am not wearing that.”

“So are you saying that you give up?”

Geralt held Jaskier’s gaze for a tense moment, before snatching the doublet out of his hands.

“Fine,” he growled. “Don’t complain if it tears. This was your idea.”

Geralt felt awkward as he shrugged off his own shirt and donned the doublet. The fabric felt nice enough against his skin, but for some reason, the knowledge that Geralt was wearing Jaskier’s clothes set his chest ablaze. The sensation was so distracting that he fumbled with the buttons, unable to close them on his own.

“Here, let me,” Jaskier offered and suddenly he was right in Geralt’s space. His head was lowered so that he could see what he was doing as he buttoned up the doublet with practiced movements.

Without meaning to, Geralt leaned forward, just a bit. Just enough to catch more of the lavender-scent that clung to Jaskier’s hair.

“There, all done,” Jaskier said and looked back up. His eyes widened when he saw just how close he was to Geralt who sucked in a sharp breath. Their faces were only inches apart and Jaskier’s hands that had come to rest on Geralt’s chest were burning his skin through the fabric.

“Jaskier…” He didn’t know why he said it, why suddenly this name was all he could think about.

His skin was burning and the doublet felt too tight, too hot.

Geralt squirmed and as if he had been shook out of a stupor, Jaskier took a step back. Geralt pretended not to notice the way the loss of the touch left him strangely cold.

“Yeah, no, you were right,” Jaskier blurted, his face burning in a furious red. “That’s not your colour. At all. Just-“ he gestured to all of Geralt, his eyes lingering on the buttons threatening to pop over Geralt’s chest and the way the fabric stretched over his arms, “that looks just utterly unacceptable. You need to get that off right now.”

Geralt barely had the chance to nod, before Jaskier was on him again, practically tearing the doublet off of him.

He turned back as soon as Geralt was free of the garment again. Geralt should have been relieved to be rid of the atrocious thing, but as he watched Jaskier stuff it into the bottom of his pack as if he wanted to never see it again - as if the sight of Geralt wearing it had been so terrible that he wanted to ban it from memory forever - he felt a strange pang in his chest.

After that, Geralt wasn’t sure how to proceed. Usually, he wouldn’t have waited a day to give Jaskier the next challenge, but ever since the incidence, as Geralt had come to think of it, Jaskier had been strangely tense.

Geralt wracked his brain, trying to figure out what he had done wrong. Maybe the doublet had ripped after all without Geralt noticing. And who could blame him? It had been distracting having Jaskier so close, touching him.

Then again, nothing had happened. It didn’t even deserve to be called an incident. Still, Geralt couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed that day, that they had come dangerously close to having something happen.

Whatever it had been, it couldn’t happen again.

And so Geralt refrained from challenging Jaskier.

At least he did, until Jaskier looked at him a couple of days later with an unreadable expression on his face.

“I am sorry,” Jaskier said quietly.

Geralt’s brows furrowed as he searched Jaskier’s face. “What are you sorry for?”

Jaskier shrugged and turned his face away. “You are cross with me. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Geralt’s throat grew tight at the way Jaskier’s voice wavered. “You didn’t. And I’m not.”

“No?” Jaskier looked so hopeful, so relieved. “I just thought…you didn’t give me a new challenge and I was worried I had ruined it.”

Geralt’s chest clenched uncomfortably. “So eager to get your ass kicked?” He said as carefree as he could and nudged Jaskier in the ribs with his elbow. “I just needed time to come up with a good challenge.”

“Did you find one?”

“Hmm.” Geralt looked around camp as subtly as possible, frantically trying to find something he could make into a new challenge. As always, his eyes landed back on Jaskier. More specifically on his exposed forearms, where he had rolled up his sleeves.

“Arms,” he blurted out. When Jaskier gave him a confused look, he cleared his throat and gestured between himself and Jaskier. “We should do arm wrestling. As a test of strength.”

Jaskier get out an incredulous laugh. “You want me to test my strength against a witcher?”

Geralt shrugged, a pointless attempt to hide his sheepishness. “You are the one who said you could do anything better than me.”

Jaskier’s arms drifted down to Geralt’s arms, assessing. Eventually he nodded.

“Alright.” Jaskier’s voice was uncharacteristically hoarse. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

And oh, how he did. He stood no chance, of course, even as Geralt held back. Jaskier put all of his strength into it. He used both hands. He stood up and tried to use his body weight.

He let out a noise of frustration and his face scrunched up in an expression that could only be described as adorable.

Geralt didn’t even realise how lost he had gotten looking at Jaskier until he heard a low thud and Jaskier’s face twisted in disappointment.

Geralt forced himself to look away from Jaskier’s face and saw the obvious. He had Jaskier’s hand pinned down.

“I guess you won,” Jaskier said and made a face. “You have found something I can’t do.”

Geralt hesitated. This would have been the perfect moment to gloat, to declare this silly game over. What left his mouth instead was, “We’re even now. I couldn’t wear the clothes and you can’t beat me. I’d say that means we still don’t know which one of us is better.”

Though Geralt knew. When Jaskier’s eyes lit up at Geralt’s words, he knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that Jaskier was better – he might even be the best man Geralt knew.

After that, the fight was fully on again. Jaskier didn’t hold back. Not an hour later, when the moon had just begun to creep across the sky, Jaskier stood up and offered Geralt his hand.

“I bet you can’t dance.”

He was right, of course, but not once did he mention how Geralt kept stepping on his feet or how his posture was all wrong.

Geralt wouldn’t have cared if he had. He didn’t think his defeat would have even registered. He was too occupied fighting and failing to keep his heartbeat slow as Jaskier pulled him ever closer and let him through the motions of the dance while humming a soft melody.

In this moment, he couldn’t have cared less if he lost a bet or not.

And it appeared that Jaskier cared just as little about winning the bet, just this once.

Neither of them said a word about it and when they finally let go of each other, Jaskier just looked at him with that same unreadable expression he had shown more and more often lately.

“Your turn to make a move,” was the only thing he said, before disappearing inside the tent.

Geralt was hurt. It wasn’t a deep or particularly painful wound. Not that one would be able to tell from the way Jaskier fussed over him with worry etched into his face.

“I bet,” Geralt pressed through his teeth, “that you don’t know how to clean a wound.”

Jaskier stared at him in disbelieve. “You’re absolutely right I don’t.”

“Don’t you want to try?”

Jaskier’s brows drew together like storm clouds and his voice was thunder. “Really, Geralt? You’re bleeding. Do you really think this is the right time for this? If I mess this up-“

“Jaskier,” Geralt interrupted him and put his hand soothingly on Jaskier’s wrist. He could feel his pulse pump beneath his fingers and he rubbed a small circle into his soft skin. “You won’t hurt me. This is just a scratch. The drowner barely got me.”

“It wouldn’t have gotten you at all if I hadn’t been in the way,” Jaskier said bitterly.

Geralt’s chest clenched and he squeezes Jaskier’s arm gently, making him look at him. “That doesn’t matter. The important thing is that you didn’t get hurt. And that you know what to do if you ever do get hurt.”

There were implications in Geralt’s words that he didn’t want to think too hard about. He didn’t get the chance to anyway. Jaskier looked at him with wide eyes, before he nodded and set to work.

His hands were gentle and he hummed soothing melodies as he cleaned and stitched Geralt’s wound under his instructions. Geralt wouldn’t have been able to think of anything but Jaskier’s closeness if he had wanted to.

“Why on earth would I need to know how to do that?” Geralt said scowling, to the utter annoyance of Jaskier how groaned in exasperation.

“No, no no, don’t do that! That’s the exact opposite of what I told you to do. You should be smiling.”

“But why? Who cares if I smile?”

“I do. I-I mean, people at court do. You need to look pleasant and approachable if you want to charm anyone.”

“I don’t want to charm anyone.”

“Too late for that,” Jaskier muttered, quietly enough that Geralt was certain the words hadn’t been meant for him.

Still, Geralt scowled even harder, just to spite Jaskier and maybe, just maybe to make his own frown turn into a laugh.

“Geralt! Stop that this instant! Truly, sometimes I think you enjoy riling me up.” He threw his hands up in defeat. “This is it. You are a hopeless student. I’d have better luck teaching Roach how to behave at court. She definitely is more charming.”

Geralt couldn’t help it. His lips twitched up. “You’d have to bribe her.”

Jaskier snorted. “I’m already working on it. One day I’ll get her to eat that dreadful old cloak you insist on keeping.”

Jaskier looked dead serious and a by now familiar warmth spread through Geralt’s chest at Jaskier’s unconvincing scowl.

A snort of laughter left his mouth and in the blink of an eye Jaskier’s face softened.

“There it is,” he said in a tone Geralt couldn’t place. If he dared to let himself imagine, he would have called it fond. “You may never again say that you aren’t charming.”

“What on earth does this prove?” Jaskier panted as he tried to dodge yet another swing of Geralt’s fist aimed at his face.

“It should prove that you’d be able to defend yourself against bandits or at least hold your own in a bar fight.”

“Why would I -“ Jaskier ducked under a ridiculously slow punch that would have been truly embarrassing to get hit by, “need to do that?” He jumped backwards. “I can always talk myself out of trouble or – careful Geralt! – or you’d be there to save me. I don’t know why –“ his rant ended in a sharp cry as he stumbled over his own feet.

He let out an exaggerated grown when he hit the ground. Geralt was on him within a second, pinning his hands to the ground.

Jaskier huffed, his breath ghosting over Geralt’s face. He went still.

Geralt’s brows furrowed. “At least try to get out of my hold,” Geralt growled. “You need to be able to protect yourself. What if I’m not around?”

“Why wouldn’t you be?” Jaskier’s voice was strangely breathless. “Why would I go anywhere without you?”

Geralt froze.

For the first time it hit him just how close they were, with Geralt’s body practically pressing Jaskier’s into the ground. At some point, Geralt’s hair band had loosened and some strands of his hair had come free, framing his face and tickling Jaskier’s cheeks.

“Geralt?”

Geralt’s eyes followed the movement of Jaskier’s lips. The was so close. It would be so easy to just lean down and brush his lips against Jaskier’s. The feel of Jaskier’s body pressing up against him wasn’t enough anymore. Geralt’s heart was pounding in his chest and he wanted, he needed–

He had no time to think. No time to voice what he couldn’t even comprehend.

Because before he had the chance to do any of that, Jaskier leaned forward and breached the gap between them. He let out a soft noise that sounded almost like a sigh when they lips finally met.

Jaskier’s lips were soft and eager and they moved against Geralt’s as if he had been waiting to do this for a long time.

It took Geralt a moment to respond, but once the shock left him, he returned the kiss with just as much fervour. A low growl rose in his chest as he pressed impossibly closer against Jaskier.

His hands let go of Jaskier’s wrists, instead finding his hands and intertwining them.

Gently, Geralt bit into the softness of Jaskier’s lips, eliciting the sweetest sound from him. He felt Jaskier tug his hands free and Geralt let him, eager to feel Jaskier bury his fingers in his hair.

Instead, they pushed against him. Geralt let out a strangled groan when Jaskier broke the kiss and used Geralt’s surprise to throw his leg over Geralt and switch their positions.

Now he was leaning above Geralt, caging him in with his arms and giving him the biggest and smuggest look Geralt could imagine.

“Why…Jaskier, what…” He was unable to finish the sentence, wasn’t even sure what exactly it was that he wanted to ask. All he knew is that he needed to know. He needed this to not have been only a distraction.

“This, my dearest witcher,” Jaskier announced, leaning in close to Geralt; close enough that their breaths mingled and Jaskier’s fringe brushed Geralt’s skin. “Is a technique I am sure wasn’t taught in Kaer Morhen. The one type of battle you won’t be able to win against me.”

Geralt swallowed thickly. “What kind of battle?”

“Why, it’s called battling for dominance. With our tongues.”

“What?”

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “Kissing, Geralt. I’m obviously talking about kissing.”

“For a bard you have a terrible way of describing that.”

Jaskier huffed and Geralt could almost feel his smile against his lips. “Are you saying you’d be a better poet than me? Want to prove it to me?”

Geralt shook his head, his throat tight. One of his hands wandered up to Jaskier’s face, caressing his cheek. “I am much more interested which one of our tongues has won the battle.”

“Mine, obviously.” Jaskier grinned. “I have you pinned down, don’t I?”

“Hmm.” A smile stretched across Geralt’s face and he tilted his head just enough that his lips brushed against Jaskier’s with his next words. “Any yet I feel like I have won.”

Jaskier’s breath hitched. “I guess we’ll have to do it some more then. To determine which one is the winner.”

“Yeah,” Geralt agreed, his voice but a breath. “We should.”

As Geralt captured Jaskier’s lips with his own once more, he knew with a fierce certainty that neither of them would be proven a loser in this.

#i am so sorry #two things i never wanted to write:#detailed descriptions of kisses #and /that/ phrase #and yet here we are #geraskier #geraltxjaskier #geralt x jaskier #my writing #fic #fanfic #prompt #pining #witcher #witcher fic #i once again am too tired to edit this #writing>sleep>editing #geralt #jaskier

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slashingdisneypasta · 3 years ago

Text

Sylvester the Cat x Toon!Reader || Drabble

Plot: I'm just experimenting with the Looney Tune idea so possibly enjoy some cute Sylvester Jr wanting you to be his new other parent.

Warnings: Toon violence?

You're just tying up the ends of Wile E's bandages into a tight little knot, prompting a wince from the coyote and a little board sign saying 'Ouch!'. Immediately you wince, stepping back. "Ohh... sorry, Wile E... I'm not exactly certified... " Daffy made you do this job, seeing as you're worse at sports then any of them- and that's saying something.

His head falls forward slightly and his ears wilt as you step back.

"Okay! Who's nex- " Turning around - picking up some more bandages and band aids in one fist, and an industrial sized tube of Acme branded antiseptic cream tucked under your other arm, - you look about for your next patient.

- And droop as soon as you see what kind if work load is waiting for you. It looks like every toon you know is lined up for medical attention!

The bandages and band aids slip out of your hands and scatter across the floor. "Oh boy." Quickly taking a deep breath to refresh yourself, you perk right up in order to get to it. Okay! "Sly! You're first, what's wro- Uh, hah. Nevermind."

Looking at him... maybe you don't have to ask...

Tweety flies through the giant gaping hole in Sylvester's tummy and the cat gives great sigh, slumping forward. "Why are the only times he's in there are when he can get out!!"

"I know, I know, woe is you. Sit down." You have no time for sympathies right now, you can allocate Sly only 2 minutes- and that's because you like him. The other patients coming get only one. "Okay, Sly!... um... " Oh brother you're stuck. Why do you do with an ailment like this?? Sylvester patiently sits, waiting for you to finish as you set your paws on your hips with a huff... wondering where exactly to go from here. Hm. "Do you maybe... know where your insides... are? Like, presently?"

"Uhh, they were... disintegrated... "

You two share a concerned look. "Maybe... spackle?- "

Just as Sylvester is gulping down his fear at your crazy suggestion, a certain black and white kitten comes speeding out of the crowd at the two of you. "FATHER!" Sylvester Junior stops at his fathers side, eyes wide with worry. "Father! Is he okay, Y/N??"

As you start rifling through your medical kit for something actually useful, you waive a dismissive paw at the kitten. "Oh, don't worry SJ. Your dad has recovered from worse- you know that."

Oh- that gives you an idea! It may not be strictly medical... or orthodox in the least, but its worth a try! Come on- you guys are toons. Straightening up, you look to the court; Searching for the little yellow speck you know is flying around somewhere.

Sylvester Jr nods slowly, pouting. His eyes are big, and round, and adorably full of worry. "Do you think I can sit on his lap safely, Y/N?"

Oh he's just the cutest. You turn back to your patient and raise your brows at him. "Can he?"

Sly perks up at the chance to get some much needed affection - rather then shameful berating, - from his rugrat. "Of course he can- come on, son- oww... " Unfortunately Sylvester Junior throws caution to the wind, and launches his little body at his father- almost going all the way through and causing you to seriously wince, but luckily Sylvester has a good grip on him and sets him in his lap rather then inside the cavern that was his belly. "Aghhh... thanks, son... I feel a lot better now... oof!- "

Sylvester Junior has thrown his arms around his father, and your heart leaps at the adorable scene...

Except- you wouldn't have, if you had heard what was really going on in that hug.

Sylvester's eyes widen and he deadpans at his son, hearing the words that come out in a rushed, hoarse whisper as soon as the hug he thought was genuine closes around his neck. Of course... this is his son, after all...

"How am I doing, Father?? Is Y/N looking?? I've been told that other cats become more inclined to date a cat who's good with children!, and since you're hopeless at that, I've elected myself, your darling baby son, to help you! So, are they looking father??"

"Junior!"

"Yes father???"

"I do not need your help to woo anyone, and I'm working on Y/N... " Sly tries to assure Jr, not sounding totally sure as his eyes fall downcast. "Its, uh, just a slow process, is all... " After a moment, he proudly lifts his chin, and he would puff out his chest, if... you know.. it was there... "I got your mother on my own, didn't I??"

Sylvester's proud moment is cut off quickly as his son pulls away from him to give a very deadpanned, sassy expression at the mention of his absentee mother cat. "And where is she, may I ask, father??"

A loud 'Aha!' comes from you a few feet away as you jump up, and grab something right out of the air.

Deeply rolling his eyes, irritation flickering inside him at the antics of his son, Sylvester Sr plonks him down on the bench beside him, angrily crossing his arms. Jr follows suit, looking like an exact replica of his father... except, smaller.

Blinking blankly around to see the two, with Tweety now wriggling around in your paws, you giggle at the sight. "What happened to you two? You were having such a heart warming father-son moment a second ago!"

"I'm full of shame, Y/N. Oh woe... "Sylvester Jr sighs, shaking his head as Sr turns his head slowly to look at him. "How am I to face my friends at the playground... My father- a loser!"

Sylvester pointedly looks away, angry eyes pointing towards the court. "My son... a spoiled brat. How am I ever to show my face in society, again?" An even heavier sigh comes out of Sylvester Jr at that remark, and Sylvester Sr immediately jumps up from the bench, pointing a stern finger at his son. "Oh no ya don't- Don't you dare get out that bag!!"

"But Father! I'm full of shame!" Sylvester Jr whines, holding the paper bag in his lap as you watch the two in wonderment. How they can bicker like this, and still have such an adorable, open relationship you have no clue - some kids are too scared to talk back to their fathers, - but the state of these two's relationship is truly, really endearing to you.

Oh how you love Sly... You catch yourself swooning at the thought of him, and immediately stop yourself. Stop it, Y/N! This is not the time for that. Taking a deep breath, you shake yourself. Okay, back to the task at hand.

Meanwhile, Sylvester snatches the paper bag away from Jr. "Oh, cut that out, wouldja?!"

While there's a pause in the argument, you jump and take your chance to hold up Tweety in front of Sylvester's face- his pupils shrinking at the sight and his teeth growing sharper, somehow.

"Oh no oh no- You mean old puddy tads- using me like this!" Tweety exclaims, wings pressed firmly to your paws and pushing, struggling to wiggle up and out of your tight grip. Yeah yeah, you think. Tell it to the choir.

Hopefully when I let Tweety go, Sly will give chase... and be all better!

Heh... isn't that how it works? It is, right? He'll 'perk right up'! you could say.

"Alright... here goes nothing!" You squeak, closing your eyes and letting Tweety go, hoping to god that Sylvester doesn't trample you in his endeavour to snatch his favourite little yellow bird.

Feeling a wind blow against you side and ruffling your fur as Sylvester springs to action, you slowly crack your eyes open again- first seeing Sylvester Jr as he still sits on the bench in front of you swinging his legs over the side of the bench, before peaking over your shoulder, and... "Yes!" You cry out as soon as your keen feline eyes catch sight of Sylvester looking good as new again on the court, chasing Tweety through the still-roaring basketball game. Clasping your hands together, your tail wiggles excitedly behind your back. "It worked!"

"What?" Sylvester hears your cheering and immediately halts in his tracks, looking at you then down at himself- a big, toothy smile spreading across his face when he see's he's all better. "Y/N! You did it! Thanks!"

"Of course!" You call back, then point at the scoreboard and wink. "Now kick those Monstar's butts for me!"

The green Monstar turns a squinty looking evil eye on you at hearing your words but you don't care- you're far too busy burning the image of Sly giving you a thumbs up into your mind.

"Heheh, no problem... " That trademark evil grin slips across Sly's face again as he rubs his paws together, turning his attention back to the game as you sigh, paws on your hips; Happy with your job well done.

"Uh, hello??" Someone speaks up from behind you, and you jump, suddenly remembering the mile long line of toons that still need medical attention.

Ohhh... great. You slowly turn around, seeing Elmer giving you angry eyes and quickly look extremely apologetic, paws awkwardly behind your back and spine as straight as a plank. Oops!

You might seem help... you think you tilting your head to see the rest of the long... long, l o n g line. "Uhh... SJ? You wanna help me play nurse, maybe?"

"Oh, yes Y/N!" He exclaims enthusiastically, hopping off the bench and taking up your medical kit in his short little arms- which is way too big for him. You giggle and take it from the kitten, patting his head. "I'll be happy to be your assistant!"

Fist bumping each other, you wink. "That's the kinda attitude I like to see! Lets go."

A couple hours and countless injuries later and the game is coming to a nail chewing close. Truly, this is a new level of anxiety you're feeling as you leave Sylvester Junior, now exhausted and up past his bedtime, curled in Granny's lap with a blanket strewn over him. Then you sit back down to watch the game beside a very injured Sly, as Witch Hazel defibrillates Taz.

If Michael doesn't make this shot - with but seven seconds to go, - he has to move to Moron Mountain in your place. You all dragged him here for help and now h's the one with everything on the line.

You cant help but feel a massive load of guilt.

"Oh I cant watch!" You squeak suddenly amongst the thunderous sounds of the audience at 4 seconds, and cover your eyes. "Tell me when its over!"

3 seconds later, the buzzer screeches and you hear the toons around you cheering, and peak out nervously from beyond your paws. ... What happened?

Your gaze flickers to the score board.

Oh my god. A deep, relieved breath comes out of you. "We won!?"

"We won!" Sylvester concurs, jumping up from the bench and throwing a fist into the air. Then he puts his paws on your arms and beams down at you. "We're not gonna be slaves!!"

You wonder what you could say in response, but the one thing your body is telling to you to do is throw your arms around him- so you do. And he doesn't think twice before squeezing you back, picking you up and swinging you around.

Then the world comes crashing down around Sly, as his son opens his eyes to see the scene- and gasps. The kitten sits up quickly in Granny's lap and points. "Oh, father! You did it! I knew you could do it!"

Immediately Sylvester puts you down, his paws retreating from you and a definite sense of nervousness - and maybe embarrassment? - settles over him. You raise your brows, confused, but still swimming in the joy of the game being won and just tilt your head as you confusedly smile. "What did he do??"

Sly Jr doesn't even think a second before gleefully elaborating- despite his father very nearly shaking his soul free waving his hands at him in a doomed endeavour to shut his son up. "No- stop, Junior!- "

"Asked you out! Didn't he?" As the wide eyed bewilderment on your face and the utter horror on Sylvester's dawns on Jr, his shoulders drop and he turns disappointedly at his dad. "Didn't you?"

"No!"

"Oh, father!- "

Sylvester Sr's tail, shoulders, and head slump forward as he turns his kitten around so he faces away from the two of you, embarrassment replaced by exasperation. "You're tired, son. Go to sleep. Night night, sleep tight, sweet dreams, don't let the bed bugs bite and we'll talk in the morning." Then he slowly, meekly turns back to you.

And you're practically glowing. "Sly... what's he talking about?"

"Father likes you!- " Sylvester Jr tries to speak up again, turning his head but Sr twists his head carefully back, a reprimanding tone in his voice.

"Sleep! Hah hah... " Sylvester (Sr) turns back to you, arms held carefully behind his back as he chuckles nervously. "My son is... troubled... a little- "He point at his head and swirls his finger; A gesture reading 'Loopy'. As soon as the meaning behind that word and his gesture occurs to you, you visibly droop. Oh. Okay... I guess SJ was just messing with us... Sly watches this reaction, and his ears perk up quickly; Sensing some dissappintment. "I mean, uh... unless you liked the i-idea?"

You peak up at him again from the floor, seeing his face slowly going red. "... D-do you?"

"Wha- I asked first! You answer the question."

"Hey." Setting your fists to your hips, you look stubbornly at him. "You were just taking it all back! So you tell the truth. Which is it??"

"Yeah- but I asked the question first!"

"Sylvester James Pussycat Senior!"

"Pfft... if you think pulling full name on me is going to change anything... " He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms. "You've got another thing comin'!"

Your eyes narrow, and so do his, before suddenly Taz jumps up from the bench he was resting on and ZOOMS past Sly so fast and so hazardously, that he's caught off guard and jumps forward with a yelp- accidentally knocking you.

"Oh!-"

"H-hold on, I got ya!!" Sylvester's eyes widen to the size of dinner plates and he grabs you just before gravity manages to drag you down to the ground; Pulling you back up to your feet- which just so happens to bring you two extremely close together.

Two sets of eyes widen and faces go red.

Everything seems to go a little quieter around you, the deafening sounds of the auditorium seeming to get plunged under water as the crazy all just slows down for just a moment. Enough for you to enjoy the few seconds you foreseeably get before he jumps back like someone sprayed him.

But to your surprise, he doesn't move. Just stands there and looks shocked... but does not move even an inch away from you. Doesn't even let go of you.

Finally, after a few good moments, you sigh and give in. "... Sly, would you like to go out sometime with me?"

"Ah... " His ears flatten against his head as he looks bashful, with a cute little smile that makes your stomach do backflips as he curls his tail around yours. "Yes, I'd like that very much."

You lean up and give him a feather light kiss on the cheeks- and he goes even redder.

#(faintly you two can hear a loud 'YES FATHER!!' from sj XDD )#Looney Tunes #The Looney Tunes #Sylvester x Reader #Sylvester the Cat x Reader #Drabble #Sylvester The Cat x Reader Drabble #Space Jam

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bokutoslittlebird · 4 years ago

Text

In Your Eyes

Bokuto Kōtarō x Chubby!Reader

Author’s Note : There are some dark things in here and if you feel suicidal please do not keep it bottled in. It’s not healthy and needs to be addressed. The really bad stuff isn’t until the middle (right before the smut, basically), so be warned! That’s where the suicidal stuff is and like I said, if you do any of this or feel suicidal please seek professional help because it’s not worth keeping unhealthy feelings inside ; If you are wondering why Bokuto’s obsessed with licking and biting in this, I have been rereading a doujin where Bokuto does that and, well, it’s hot ; I swear this would not have taken me so long if I didn’t keep crying while writing it omg I would be dead if I had a shot every time I had to stop writing so I could wipe my tears and snot. This is why I don’t like to read or write angst but wow was that therapeutic.

Warnings: angst, fat shaming, use of the word “pig”, body dysmorphia (inability to look in a mirror), vomit, suicidal tendencies/intention (via overdose) + implied past actions alcohol, soft!dom Bokuto, choking, creampie(s), mating press+doggy style, licking and biting, facesitting

The cheers of the crowd erupted as the whistle blew. Once again, the MSBY Black Jackals had won. This match was against the Red Falcons, another team in the V.1 division. It was a close call, but Hinata managed to break the deuce with his monstrous quick attack and seal the set with their victory.

The team was jumping and bouncing, giving out high fives as they did. Of course, they had to shake hands with the Adlers, bowing to the audience and thanking them for their support. When Bokuto did his classic ‘Bokuto Beam’ move towards the audience, you could hear the girls squealing and giggling. It isn’t like they didn’t do the same when Atsumu or Hinata waved to them, but it hit you different. After all, they were beautiful in your eyes, slim and flawless.

Oh, yes. You’re the MSBY Black Jackal’s manager, being a classmate of Hinata in his second and third year (as in you tutored him and helped manage the volleyball club with Yachi). Hinata was your first friend, which kind of sounds pathetic. It was, if you were being honest with yourself. Being heavier than the average girl at your school subjected you to bullying and pranks that ended with you crying until you threw up. Hinata never made you feel like that, though. He always made sure you were comfortable and every member of the club at Karasuno treated you like an angel. You ended up applying to be the MSBY manager when Hinata asked, saying they needed a manager and wondered if you could apply. Well, it was either that or finding a job at the circus, as your family would sneer at you. Truly, Hinata was the first to accept you.

Once you got the job, it was like being back at Karasuno, honestly. Everyone was friendly and treated you no differently than they would treat others. However, you wished one of them would treat you differently.

Bokuto.

He was the ace of the team, a goofy fella that could make anyone smile. Including you. Aside from Hinata, he made you feel accepted and made you forget about any woes and horrid thoughts you were facing. He didn’t know about them like Hinata did, but you were sure he’d treat you different if he knew.

Once everything was packed up, you and the coach headed out, the team not too far behind you.

“Shōyō-kun, that was one of yer best sets yet!” Atsumu cheerily piped up, walking behind Hinata. Hinata was right beside you, as he always was.

“I’m glad you think so! I don’t know if we can surprise the Adlers next time, though. Kageyama still knows my tricks,” he huffed as he finished his statement, putting his hair down so he could mock Kageyama. You giggled at his antics.

“Alright, change up and meet at the bus in 10 minutes, let’s go!” Coach commanded. Each member voiced their acquiescence. You decided to use this opportunity to go to the bathroom. After all, their match lasted almost an hour, if not more.

In the restrooms, you were almost done when you heard a bunch of girls giggling as they entered. Instead of leaving, you stayed in place, waiting for them to go.

You wish you hadn’t.

“Gosh, those boys are so attractive!” One of them said. Two voices agreed.

“Have you seen Atsumu and Kageyama? They’re both so hot!”

“I was too focused on that number 12,” oh no, “Bokuto, I think? He’s a good looking man, bet he has the stamina of a god, too,”

“Yeah, it’s a shame their brand is ruined by that mascot of theirs.” What?

“Mascot? Oh! You mean the pig? Yeah, she does put a damper on everything, doesn’t she? Imagine being that attractive and having that thing follow you around!” The girl cackled, her friends following suit. You felt your stomach drop, tears springing in the corner of your eyes as you listened to them.

It was easy to forget you were different when you with the team since they made you feel normal, but that didn’t mean others wouldn’t notice you.

The girls eventually left, the door slamming shut behind them. Whether they came in there to do makeup or just talk shit about you knowing you were in there didn’t matter. Not when you were crumpled up on the floor as sobs wracked your frame. Life sucks.

It’s not like you didn’t try! That’s the other thing! You try to lose weight and nothing happens, exercising doesn’t do much and diets are practically useless. You used to go to the gym, but stopped when you kept getting stares. You also used to run with Hinata in the mornings, but since he was so much faster than you, you stopped. What’s the point if you’re panting and breathless after a minute while he’s still going strong after 30 minutes? It felt like nothing would ever help.

A buzzing interrupted your crying fest, you sniffling as you wipe away the tears and look at the screen. It’s from the groupchat, Hinata asking if you’re okay and they were all at the bus. You typed back a quick ‘K’ and got up. The best you could hope for was nobody would point out the red eyes and the sniffling.

Hinata knew of your troubles, being there for you when you broke down in school more often than not. When you confided that he was the first person you felt comfortable with, it broke him. Seeing you had bottled up your emotions because nobody bothered to listen or care, it made him want to include you in his life. He would invite you over for dinner and his sister would excitedly talk to you, never making you feel uncomfortable. When he heard that you were in Osaka, he immediately called you up about being the MSBY manager.

He also knew of your crush on Bokuto. It was obvious to him, with how you looked at the ace with longing. Hinata even encouraged you to confess, but that was quickly dismissed when you told Hinata how you felt like Bokuto deserved better than someone like you. Bokuto was muscular, attractive, and charming — in your eyes, he deserved to be with someone his equal. That did not mean you. Hinata knew of your troubles, but he also knew of Bokuto’s. Bokuto has a crush on you, too, finding himself more accepted with you around. Contrary to the ace’s personality, he was insecure in a lot of things. He wasn’t very smart, which was often pointed out by others. He knew when someone was upset, though, so he always knew he needed to make you feel better.

Once you arrived at the bus, Hinata greeted you as everyone else had boarded. “What’s wrong?”

“The same old thing, you know,” you sniffle, your voice cracking as you remember the hateful words. Hinata’s face soured as you said those words. Back in high school, he would sit down and cry with you. Now, he was tired of you still being picked on as an adult.

“Immature, that’s what they are. Come on, we’re gonna stop by that restaurant you love.” Oh great, food. You may have been starving when the match ended, but after the incident, you just wanted to go home and cry. You numbly nodded and followed Hinata onto the bus. The coach didn’t bother pointing out anything, but he sent you a sad look when he noticed the red eyes on you. You sadly smiled and continued to your seat, behind the coach as the bus started to move. Curling into your jacket, you tried to think of something else.

The restaurant was a disaster. Everyone had been excited and gotten off the bus when a bunch of fangirls came up to them. You had just smiled and shook your head, feeling better already. At least, you had been until the girls noticed you and gave you looks of disgust. It was short lived, their attention turning back to the boys, so you briskly walked off, into the restaurant, away from the crowd. It took almost 5 minutes for the girls to leave, but you refused to eat anything other than a salad and drink water. Even then, you excused yourself to the restroom to take a break, crying and attempting to force yourself to throw up. Once home, you locked the front door and let your emotions spill out. Crying and screaming was common, so that’s what you did. Then came the process — getting rid of any reflective surface. Turning off the lights, turning on the tv, covering the mirrors with sheets, closing the blinds, shutting out any possibility of looking at yourself. Even with nobody around, those words and looks stuck and struck deep, you eventually curling into yourself on your bed as you cried yourself to sleep.

The next day came, your alarm ringing and the sound bouncing off the walls. You turned it off, completely turning off your phone. Instead of dealing with alarms and people, you’d suffer alone behind the comfort of your home.

The team was worried, you were never late. Bokuto was more pouty than normal, your cheerful greeting missing from his morning and his bear hug. Atsumu also missed your cheerful greeting, asking Hinata if he knew of anything. When Hinata said he did not, he texted and called you, receiving no answer.

Okay, then he’d go to you.

Hinata had stayed at your apartment before, spending the night or just to hang out. Sometimes he brings you food and snacks when you need it, or he just checks on you. He has a spare key in case of anything and he’s glad he does when the door’s locked with no answer. He calls you once more time, knocking until he hears something. It’s faint, but it sounds like movement. So, you’re awake. But not answering the door. Sighing, he unlocks the door.

The apartment is not surprising to him, the windows covered and reflective surfaces covered. He was afraid of this, but he continues on. When he reaches your room, he hears more sniffling and crying. “[Y/N]?”

“Leave me be, Shōyō,”

“[Y/N], please. The team misses you,”

“Fuck off. I’m a charity case to them, I know it. Why else would they keep me around? I should just wallow away,” your voice sounds tired, the thought of the boys sticking with you out of pity a common thought you’ve had.

A thought that isn’t true, but breaks Hinata’s heart. “You know that’s not true. Everyone loves you! Even Bokuto,”

“Shōyō, shut up. Empty words do nothing. Maybe it’d be better if I just... stayed here. Maybe I should just end the misery,”

“Do not. Talk like that. Please.” Hinata’s voice cracks with each word. He knew you were bad, but you could pretend like everything was fine. He should’ve known the harsh treatment yesterday would affect you like this. He should’ve spent the night with you when you ordered a salad and a water. He should’ve told the coach or Meian when you went to the bathroom for 10 minutes that you were trying to throw up. Your lie of there being a line was obvious, a common excuse after a long time away. Hinata felt his chest tighten as he realized you didn’t answer him. “I’m getting Bokuto.”

“Shōyō! Don’t you dare!” Your screams do nothing as he basically runs out your apartment, you flinging the door open to see him gone. You start crying more, afraid that Bokuto will see just how pathetic you are. If he ever looked at you with disgust, the way everyone else does, you don’t know if you could continue on with your life.

Maybe it’d be better that way.

Bokuto doesn’t really know what’s going on, one moment he’s stretching and the next he’s running to the train station with Hinata’s words repeating over and over again.

‘[Y/N] needs you’

Bokuto’s first thought immediately went into the gutters, a blush coating his cheeks until Hinata continued.

‘I think she’s in trouble’

With those two sentences, Bokuto ran off, forgetting his bag and just taking his phone with him. He only needed his phone, really. Strange stares from the public didn’t bother him, he knows he’s still wearing his practice clothes and his knee pads, the material looking like leggings. He made it to the train station before it left, getting on and calling Hinata back.

“Bokuto?”

“I’m on the train, is everything okay?” He was panting, the train station being a bit away from the practice gym. He didn’t even bother sitting, just standing beside the doors.

“I don’t know. She’s.. She’s in a bad place. She won’t listen to me, but she’ll listen to you,” Hinata’s words are slightly muffled, sniffling accompanying his sentence. The words make Bokuto’s chest tighten.

“I don’t know what I can do, you’re her best friend. What could I do?”

“She’s in love with you. Has been for a while, actually. I know you can help her where I can’t. Just — I’ll give you her apartment key when you get to the station. Once I do, please go to her. Please,”

“I—“ Bokuto’s eyes are wide, his face definitely pink now. He’s still worried about you, but the idea of you actually liking him — no, loving him the same way he loves you, it makes him giddy. It gives him the push he needs to make it to you.

As soon as the doors open, there’s Hinata, holding a key ring for him to take. Bokuto doesn’t hesitate, a quick nod in Hinata’s direction before he rushes off to your apartment complex. All of the boys have been to your apartment before, but Bokuto and Hinata are the only ones who know the way to the place. Bokuto has gotten a bit drunk before and ended up crashing at your place, as well as just staying there when practices run late since his place is the farthest away from their practice gym.

Arriving at the apartment, he slides the key in and turns the knob, momentarily confused at the sheets covering your glass coffee table and the TV, but he continues in. He knocks on your bedroom door. “[Y/N]? Are you in here?” When he gets no response, he freaks out. Turning the knob, he notices you’re not in there, but there are more sheets covering things, as well as the blinds being shut. Even more confused, he turns back to the hallway and notices the bathroom door is closed. Fear strikes him as he thinks he knows why you’re not answering — he hopes he’s wrong.

When he opens the door, he realizes he was partially right. With a bottle of wine pressed to your lips, an empty pill bottle in one hand, your eyes wide as Bokuto’s golden eyes met yours. A brief moment of anger flashed across his face before you were forced over the toilet, his thick fingers going down your throat.

“Shtap!” Your muffled voice comes out, gagging around his fingers as he attempts to activate your gag reflex. He doesn’t stop, your squirming easily quelled against his strong grip on your arms pinning them back. You feel the bile rise and then you’re expelling the contents of your stomach into the toilet, coughing and sputtering as the painkillers you just took are now emptied into the porcelain bowl. Bokuto doesn’t let go of you as you cry, trying to get out of his hold.

He doesn’t know what he should bring up first, the fact Hinata called him over or the fact he caught you in the middle of a suicide attempt. You’re screaming and telling him to get off of you, but he instead holds you closer, your sobs fading as tears spill out of his own eyes, staining the hoodie you’re in. “Why would you do that?” He whispers.

You don’t know how to respond to that, instead choosing the phrase, “why not?” His face scrunches up and you don’t know if he’s in pain or angry as he shakes you.

“Why would you do that?! Don’t you know how many people would be distraught over you? Hinata would be inconsolable! Who would TsumTsum and I joke with? Did you even think about that? Did you think about me?” His voice is loud and it makes you cry harder, the weight of his words hitting deep. Bokuto’s been there for you through a lot and you’ve been facing all your problems on your own. “You can’t just do that! That’s selfish!”

“Why would it matter, Bo? What’s the point? I can’t face myself let alone face my feelings! Why not just stop hurting?” You’re both crying, him holding onto you tightly as you dry heave a bit, a stinging in the back of your throat and an arrow in your heart.

“Why can’t you face your feelings? You have Hinata and me!” Before you can tell him something else, he presses his lips to your forehead. You freeze. “I don’t know what I’d do if you left me. I don’t think I could live without you,” He dryly chuckles, tears still streaking down his face. You hiccup and look down, afraid to face him.

“You don’t mean that. You’re trying to make me feel better, I know. Just be honest with your feelings. I’m already low enough, no reason to keep up appearances,” more tears come out as you try to not break into another fit. Bokuto would never look at you the same you looked at him, especially not after seeing you like this. You couldn’t blame him, you look like a mess in your old sweatpants and the old hoodie that felt too tight even if it was one of the largest sizes you could find. Your hair is no better, hasn’t been brushed and you’ve been in bed for a while.

“Hinata said you loved me—“

“Stop,”

“So I came because he said he was worried—“

“You don’t need to say it,”

“If I had been a second later—“

“Stop it, please,”

“I wouldn’t have been able to tell you my feelings—“

“Please, don’t,” you cover your face, tears blurring your vision anyways. Bokuto removes your hands, looking into your eyes. His own are full of warmth and love, not disgust or regret. It makes you cry more, a horrible wail as you dive into his chest. He laughs as his arms wrap around you, comforting in these dark moments.

“I love you, you know? I have for a while,”

“Why? What do you see in me? What could I possibly have to attract you? I’m not—“

“Don’t say it. Don’t say ‘I’m not like other girls’, because everyone’s different. You make me want to be a better man, you make me excited for each new day. Nobody can compare to you,”

“I can’t.. I’m sorry, I can’t trust you. I’ve— I’ve been made fun of for too long, I want to trust you, I want to love you, I want to be with you, but I don’t know if my heart can take another one,”

“Another— what?”

“It’s a long story, I don’t want to bore you,”

“Baby, I’m not going anywhere,” he nuzzles your cheek, more tears spilling out as your chest tightens with love.

You decided to explain to him what happened in the past and how you trusted Hinata. Bokuto brought you to your room and made you some tea, brought a bottle of water, and also made you a snack. The thought of eating made you feel sick, but a pouty buff man had you slowly nibbling on the piece of toast. You hadn’t eaten since dinner the previous day, so you wanted to inhale it, but you didn’t think you could stomach it.

After explaining everything to Bokuto, you tried to laugh it off, saying it wasn’t a big deal, but he refused to accept that. A quick call to Hinata to let him know you were okay and that Bokuto would be taking a day off was the next step, letting Bokuto stay with you for the rest of the day. He didn’t want to leave you alone, the fear of almost losing you still making his heart race in a bad way. Even as you just scrolled through InstaGram on your phone, he worried if he left you’d go back to the dark headspace. He couldn’t stop it, but he figured he could prevent it.

The first thing to change your mood is get you in the shower.

When he bounced back into your room, you looked at him from your position. You looked exhausted, the toast only half eaten but the glass was empty. Bokuto shook his head and clicked his tongue. “You need to refresh yourself. Time to take a shower!”

“What are you, my dad? If you want me to do it then make me,” You muttered, snuggling back under the covers. Bokuto closed his eyes and sighed, trying to not say anything sexual.

“I will throw you over my shoulder and into the bathroom. Don’t underestimate me, [Y/N],” the bed dips as he sits on the edge. “I’ll strip you down and wash you if I have to,”

“Why are you so forceful? Damn,” you made it sound like a bad thing, but you were smiling. “Fine, I’ll shower. You don’t gotta wash me, I’m not a baby,”

“But you’re my baby?” He sounded so confused, you freezing half out of the bed. Clearing your throat, you continued.

“Uh, sure. Are you planning on leaving soon? Or..”

“Nope! I’m staying over. I’ll change the sheets while you shower, too!”

“Oh, okay,” you say, numbly getting up to get clothes. With the lack of clean clothes, you have a few shirts and some pajama pants, but your stomach twists as you realize why they’re clean. They don’t fit as nicely as the other clothes, so you face two options: reuse the hoodie you’re wearing or face the humiliation of putting on a tight shirt. Thinking of the restriction, you decide the hoodie would be best. A large pair of pajama pants and a pair of panties is all you take, but Bokuto notices the lack of clothes.

“Are you just changing your pants? You’re showering, right?” Hes rifling through his bag, planning on changing out his practice clothes while you’re in the shower. He doesn’t want to get your clean sheets dirty, after all.

“Um, I’m out of shirts, so.. I’ll just reuse the hoodie,” you shrug, not seeing a problem. His eyes light up as he holds a finger up, digging through his bag once more. Apparently, Hinata dropped it off while you were taking a nap, all that crying had exhausted you. Bokuto smiles brightly as he pulls out his own hoodie, the black hoodie with the golden MSBY brand and the Black Jackal claws. “I don’t think—“

“I’ve been dreaming of you in my hoodie for some time, so this is a perfect opportunity! I’d prefer you to wear this,”

“Uh, I’m pretty big, Bokuto. I don’t think it’ll fit, if I’m being honest,” you look down at the ground, the disgust from earlier rising in your chest. Bokuto just tilts his head to the side.

“I think it’ll fit. It’s pretty big on me, so it’ll fit. If it doesn’t, let me know. I’ll get you something else,” he just shrugs, holding out the hoodie. His name is on the back and in a way, it feels like he’s marking his territory. You take it, thanking him as you head towards the bathroom. If it didn’t fit, you didn’t know what you’d do.

When you finished washing up, you put on the clothes. As big as Bokuto was, you still didn’t expect the hoodie to fit. When it slid on easily, you were highly surprised, but also it took you a moment to collect yourself. Seeing you in his hoodie was something out of your wildest dreams, him even telling you he’s fantasized about it making your body hotter than it should be. You had to calm yourself down before exiting the bathroom, entering the bedroom to see him lying on the bed in sweatpants. That’s it.

“Where the hell are your clothes?!” You cover your face, spreading your fingers a bit to see him stand up excitedly.

“You look so good in my hoodie!” He hugged you tightly, lifting you up a bit.

“Don’t pick me up, put on a shirt!” The only thing separating your skin from his was the hoodie which, well, wasn’t very thick. The zipper itself was as high as it could go but still felt too low.

“Why? Don’t I look good? Are you uncomfortable?”

“Yes, you look good and I’m uncomfortable. This is just a weird situation,” you try to explain... as if you had a shred of dignity left. The laptop propped open with the opening of your favorite movie caught your attention. “Are you gonna watch a movie?”

“We’re gonna watch it! To make you feel better, of course!” He seemed so proud of himself, standing with his fists on his hips as he smiled. You shook your head, rolling your eyes.

“Okay, then. Do you want snacks?”

“Snacks?!”

After getting snacks for the movie, to which he fed you some while you fed him, you ended up falling asleep as you watched the movie. It was nice and warm under the covers and Bokuto’s body heat right next to you helped to lull you to sleep. He didn’t seem to notice you falling asleep until your head hit his shoulder, eyes closed as you peacefully slept. After pressing a kiss to your forehead, he closed to laptop and got comfortable under the sheets. The worry of him losing you was still there, but he kept his arms around you tightly in case it was a dream. Like you, he hoped it wasn’t.

Waking up wasn’t that bad, an urge to quench your dry throat a common thing to wake up to. What wasn’t common, however, was the thing poking your butt. Now fully awake, you tried to shoot up in bed to see what was going on but Bokuto’s arms held you down. It was then you realized what was poking you. Attempting to get his arms off of you was a hard feat, trying to squeeze out of the grip when he moaned. You froze and looked at his face, still asleep. Attempting to move again, he let out another one. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out.

He was having a wet dream. In your bed. Beside you.

Your immediate thought was who? Your next thought was me? You dismissed that idea, rolling your eyes as if that could happen. Well, until your name came past his lips. You were surprised to hear it, even if he showed and attempted to prove his feelings for you. Him dreaming of you subconsciously? It gave you confidence.

Enough confidence to wake him up and let him continue his dream in reality? No.

But, you didn’t think you’d have another dark episode anytime soon. He didn’t seem to relent his grip on your body, so you dealt with it, staring at the wall in the dark as he continued his noises. Well, at least until he bucked his hips. You gasped as he did, him waking up to your noise. “You ‘kay? Somethin’ wrong?”

Wide eyes looked at him, before glancing down and flickering back up. He follows your eyes and his face goes red. It’s hard to tell in the dark, but the moonlight coming in from the uncovered window illuminates enough. “I am so sorry, I’ll le—“

“Why?” You can’t stop yourself from asking, immediately smacking your forehead. He’s a bit confused from your actions, but you continue. “Um, I’d, uh- I’d like to know what you dreaming about.” Confidence? Yeah, right. You’re practically shaking from the fear of his answer. Of course, it was your name but you could’ve heard wrong, right? Yeah, you—

“My boner speaks for itself, doesn’t it?” Does he have shame? You just look at him so exasperated as he just stares at you, not too sure what you were expecting. “Or do you not know?”

“I— Okay. Was it me?”

“Who... who else would it be?”

“Oh, okay. Why?” You’re both so confused, you not understanding the appeal while he’s not understanding why it’s so weird. Or confusing.

“Why not? I’m in the bed with my girlfriend, longtime crush, who I find extremely attractive? Is this too much? Is it wrong for me to, um, wanna do that? Or dream about it?” No shame!

“I’m still having problems seeing things from your perspective, but okay. Still cannot see the appealing side of me, so it’s just... it’s weird for me to actually realize you like that. You actually,” you gulp, “like me,”

“I’ll say it as many times as I need to, [Y/N]. You’re perfect in my eyes. I want you to see that in your eyes, too,”

“I cannot, if ever, do that. Sorry,” you just shrug, going back to lay down. It isn’t long until he’s straddling you. “What are you doing?”

“I want to make you see things how I do. You gave me this,” he gestured to the bulge in his sweatpants. Looking at it too long scares you, the size scaring you more. “I want you,”

“Oh my god, I’m being dead serious now: you are not gonna like what you see. I’m not attractive, Bo,”

“Let me be the judge of that, hm?” It’s the only thing he says, but you hesitantly nod. He smiles and as much as you want to enjoy it, you’re still shaking. You have no idea what’s coming next, you don’t know what he’s gonna do once he sees what’s underneath and it scares you. So badly. His hands go underneath your—his hoodie, running over your skin. “If you’re scared, I can stop. I don’t want to push you into anything,”

“It’s not that, I just can’t see what you see. But I want to. I want to see myself in your eyes, if you can do that,”

“All you gotta do is give me a signal if you want me to stop. I’ll try my best but you’re gonna have to relax, baby,” he has no idea what his words are doing to you. You just nod as he smiles, leaning down to kiss your forehead. He isn’t rough and excited, but rather gentle and soothing. Hands running under the hoodie eventually go up to the zipper, slowly pulling it down. It’s a small thing, but you notice his eyes flickering to your face for any sign of distress. Evening your breathing, you let him completely pull the zipper down as your skin is completely bare to him. You hide your face in shame, ready to apologize and have a million excuses lined up, but he doesn’t let that happen when he starts licking your chest.

“Oh!” Your hands thread through his hair, softer than you expected as it barely brushes against your skin. His eyes are still on you, your fingers moving his strands away so he could clearly see you and you, him. The way his predatory gaze latches onto your face has heat pooling between your legs, rubbing them together to create some kind of friction. Keeping his tongue connected to your skin, his eyes on yours, he moves onto one of your breasts. Popping your nipple into his mouth, he swirls the perked nipple in his mouth as his hand tweaks your other nipple. You’re panting, your head is thrown back as he continues. Soon enough, just rolling your nipples in between his fingers is not enough.

Gathering spit in his mouth, he lets it dribble onto your skin. It’s warm and slick, when he smears it across your other breast as goes back to tweaking your nipples. You look down at what he’s doing only to find him grinning devilishly at you. He then goes down to your stomach, biting into the flesh there. “Bokuto!”

“What? I just wanna taste you,” he shrugs, before licking the area he bit. He has a lot of spit, too, sucking into your flesh and leaving behind a bite mark and his saliva. It’s.. kind of gross, but hot. When he comes back up to your face, he pushes his lips against yours so forcefully that you’re reeling back, mouth opening as he slips his tongue in. It’s a deep, passionate kiss as he runs his hands over your body, squeezing anything he can as he slips his fingers into your pants. “May I?”

“Of course.” Once he has the okay, he moves back down, occasionally leaving love bites as he does. Pulling down your pants, he finds himself face to face with your damp panties. You don’t have time to get embarrassed, however, when he sticks his nose into your crotch and licks the fabric. “What is up with you and licking?” You giggle, finding humor in it. He just pops back up, shrugging. You giggle again, throwing your head back in the pillows. He goes to pull down your panties, sliding them down your legs until they’re completely off. Except for his hoodie, you’re completely naked.

Now if only you could have his cum in you, then would his wet dream be complete. However, there was one more thing he’s always wanted to try, but he’s worried you’ll be against it. “Babe?”

“Is something wrong?”

“No! No! Nothing’s wrong!” He hates how your mind immediately goes negative. Your shoulders relax and your wide eyes slowly lessen as you realize nothing wrong, yet. “Um, can you sit on my face?”

“Bokuto, I don’t-“

“C’mon, please? I’ve always wanted to try it! Especially between them delicious thick thighs of yours,” he then licked his lips with a resounding moan. Although embarrassed, you roll your eyes.

“If I’m too heavy, let me know. I’ll— I’ll get off,” you prop yourself up on your hands, feeling his spit ooze down your body. “You have a lot of spit. Reminds me of how much you sweat,”

“I produce a lot of liquids, y’know?” If it wasn’t for his wiggling eyebrows as he widely grins, you would not know he meant it to be sexual.

“Lay down!”

“Yes, ma’am,” he excitedly gets on his back, his bulge much more prominent than before now that it’s just there. You can see it. You’re still hesitant, but eventually move to straddle his face. He helps you, easily maneuvering your dripping cunt over his mouth. With his strong hands, he forces you down on top of him to the point where your legs can’t keep you up. You attempt to get up, afraid you’re crushing him but he keeps you firmly planted on his face.

A growl erupts from his throat when he gets tired of your squirming, you halting your movements as you try to calm down. His thumbs run over the skin of your thighs to try and soothe you. And it works. You’re feeling lightheaded as he sucks and licks your cunt and probably makes it messier than it is. He brushes his teeth over your clit, sending shivers down your spine as you moan from the feeling. With a grin, you can tell, he gets to work on tongue fucking you as well as sucking on your clit. It isn’t long until your fingernails are digging into his abdomen as you let out a high moan as you come undone on his face. He moans himself, using his thick tongue to gather up every ounce you produced. He also makes a loud slurping noise as he cleans it up.

You move off of him, panting as you look at him. He looks absolutely blissed out, like he saw Nirvana and Heaven all at once. You smile at him, his own smile wide and proud. He immediately gets up, pushing hips lips against yours once more as he licks the corners of your mouth. He is quickly moving to pull down his sweatpants and boxers, but hesitates. “You sure you want this?”

“You aren’t allowed to stop now,” you giggle as he glows, pulling down his pants. Your eyes go wide as you realize how big he actually is. The bulge in his pants was nothing. It is scary, you wondering if it’ll fit.

“Everything okay? Do you— Do you not want it?” He sounds so sad, you immediately coo at him, forgetting the third leg he has.

“No, no, no baby! It’s just— you’re very big. I did not expect that. Just be gentle, yeah?”

“Of course!” Another kiss to your lips, this one more of a peck than a passionate open mouthed kiss. “Can you get on your hands and knees?” You listen to him, rolling over on your stomach before getting in position. This way, you don’t have to worry about seeing him and can focus on what he’s doing, so it’s better in a way. Really, Bokuto just wants to end the night with you on your back and he plans on having you shaking from multiple orgasms before it’s over. He guides his cock to your entrance, a shaky breath leave him as his tip brushes against your folds. You shiver yourself, feeling yourself about to cry, but you wait.

Once he pushes into you, the tears come out for a different reason. “I’m sorry, it’ll feel better in a moment,” he licks your cheek, nuzzling you. You nod as you try to relax, him continuing to push into you. It isn’t until he nudged against your cervix does he stop. Even then, he is still not completely in you. He focuses on evening his breathing, inhaling your shampooed hair. It’s hard to not blow his load so quickly, you squeezing him so tightly. You’re nice and snug, though, your walls eventually relaxing as he stays inside.

“You can— you can move, Bo,”

“Fuck yeah,” he grunts, pulling out only to roughly thrust into you. You lurch forward from the thrust, immediately dropping your mouth open to moan as he sets a steady pace. It’s not fast or slow, but he’s definitely rough with his thrusts. It’s the grunts that really do you in, the way his hands grab at your ass and hips, sounds of pleasure coming from his as sinks his cock into your cunt that has you tightening around him. With a mewl, you have another orgasm and he curses, a low “shit” coming out as he struggles to pull out. He leans down to put his mouth next to your ear, biting the shell as he continues. He doesn’t even break a sweat as he does, stilling himself deep inside you as he lets out a low groan, your eyes scrunch together as you whimper. His cum fills you up to the brim, his hips swiveling to make sure he’s all done.

Well, for that round.

You’re panting heavily as he leaves you, leaning back as he watches your legs shake. His cum oozes out of you, your cunt clenching as it makes more pour out. It’s a beautiful reality, but he wants more. You’re soon flipped onto your back as he is over you again, his hands on the back of your knees, pushing them up. It’s not uncomfortable, but it’s not a very comfortable position, either. Confusion is etched in your face as he does, but his lidded eyes as he licks his lips tell you he’s not done. You’re exhausted, but he’s not.

He wastes no time in sinking himself back into you, his eyes focused on your face as you moan. His grin is almost evil, the way his lips stretch as he bottoms out inside you before roughly thrusting into you. It didn’t take long for another orgasm to start to buildup in you, your head thrown back as your back arches, your head turned to the side as he leans down to lick and bite your collarbone, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh. His hands find yours, intertwining his fingers with yours as he brings them up to your head. You focus on the way his arms flex, the muscles bulging with each thrusts as he puts every ounce of effort into the action. It really shows to how much he loves you and your body.

Even with all the marks on your body, even with all the places he’s touched and licked, that gnawing thought of you worrying nags him. The thought that you’ll still not know just how much he loves you. The thought that you’ll think it was a one time thing. He needs to know you know. He needs to know you’re seeing things in his perspective now. One hand leaves yours, it finding itself around your throat.

“Say my name,” he grunts, alternating his gaze between your face and his cock disappearing inside you. It’s something he’ll never get over. Maybe next time, he can record you two.

“B-Bo—“

“No, my given name. I want you to scream it,” his grip on your neck gets tighter, your walls tightening at the same time. He groans as he throws his head back, his thrusts slowing down as he drags his cock against your walls. “I want your neighbors to know who’s fucking you,”

“You, Kōtarō!” You loudly moan, humming in pleasure as he picks up the pace.

“Who’s making you feel this good? Who does your little cunt belong to?”

“God, you! It belongs to Kōtarō!” You scream, your eyes rolling back as his hands go back to under your knees, pushing them up to your chest. It’s hard to breathe, but you’re clamping down on his cock as a sheen of white forms around it, your slick dripping down your ass and down his balls. The last urge he needed to fuck you like an animal was that, you screaming his name. Your ands wrap around his neck, the material of his jacket rubbing against his thick neck as your nails take down his back. Hissing, he fucks you faster and harder, determination set to get you to one more orgasm. It doesn’t take long, your mouth hanging open as you come undone for one last time, him burying himself as far as he can as he spills another load into you. It’s heavy and fulfilling, but it’s wonderful. A wonderful feeling of being loved.

As you both come down from your highs, he gives you another sloppy kiss. Instead of pulling out, he released your legs and lays on his side, taking you with him.

“Shouldn’t we clean up?”

“That can wait. I don’t wanna leave quite yet,” he pants out, another sloppy kiss. Like he can’t get enough.

Really though, he can’t. He loves you too much

#haikyuu x reader #bokuto x reader #Mr. Kōtarō #bokuto smut #BB.Kinky #BB.Angst #Bokuto.Angst #Bokuto.Spice #tw.alcohol #tw.suicide mention #tw.blood #cw.food #tw.fat shaming #cw.razors #body dysmorphia #body dysmorphic disorder #tw.overdose #haikyuu smut

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vore-scientist · 3 years ago

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Return of the Dragon King pt 1: Prison Break

[A non-sexual high fantasy GT/vore story with both hard/fatal+ other fantasy violence and safe/soft]

This story is a prose adaptation of an RP between @vixen525 and I. It takes place in one of her worlds and features mostly her characters.

Summary/Pitch: Separated from Sophia by the evil (and illegitimate) Prince Nero, Yonah must rescue his princess from Nero's devious clutches. With a collection of quirky fantasy characters as allies, Yonah aims to bring an end to Nero's reign and return the rightful heir to the throne.

But before that, he must escape from one of Nero’s prisons.

Story General Warnings: Return of the Dragon King overall will contain hard/fatal vore (in an intense fantasy violence style) along with soft/safe (the good stuff). Themes of abuse and torture as well. (There may be one instance of soft fatal that if I ever get that far I’ll warn for that specifically but it’s so far off from this it may never get written down)

Chapter Specific Warnings: This chapter contains all the story general warnings. This is NOT the chapter with soft/fatal. It’s hard only. It very much treads the line between hard vore and just standard fantasy violence. This part contains a very brief mention of attempted (and failed) sexual assault.

Onto the story:

----

For the 20th night in a row Yonah was replaying the moment in his mind, and like the 19 times before, this time was slightly worse than before.

It started with merriment, feasting, dancing, joking. Then transitioned to screaming, to blood, to Sophia being dragged away and him unable to stop it. And finally ended with waking up here, on a hard stone floor, in a room with no windows, with cold metal around his ankles and a chain attached to a back corner. With a terrible pounding in his head and an indescribable weight upon his core.

While he wondered why it had happened. Why this diplomatic mission to another world had been under false pretenses, however it wasn’t really worth dwelling on. He wasn't going to get answers here. All that he knew was he had failed. He had failed to protect Sophia. His charge. His friend. His princess. She was taken and he had let it happen!

After his 5th day in the prison cell he had given up trying to escape. Whatever that pressure was, pushing on his core, it stopped his magic. He had woken up without his robe, staff, and hat. For a normal wizard that would be a problem, but Yonah HaEsh was half FireWitch in addition to half giant. He had his own natural magic! Surely he could melt the cuffs and bars.

Nope. He could see the air shimmer with heat around his hands. He was generating magic, but it seemed to be… negated as soon as he tried to release it. All it succeeded in doing was make him tired. And hungry.

He was so hungry. The prison guards were giving him just enough food and water to stay alive for reasons that were beyond him. So he spent most of his time laying on the floor. Conserving his energy. For what purpose? For what event? None at all. He just hoped. And cried. Or at least tried to. His tears had long since dried up.

The screech of the prison bars sliding open grated upon his ears and he drew a harsh breath but did not give the guards the satisfaction of interacting with him. He had tried to rush at them a few times, just to have a little fun. But the chains weren’t long enough to let him reach the bars. All his antics got him was humiliation.

“Oy! Halfbreed Thing, you’re in luck,” came the voice of a nameless guard, “the warden decided to give you a treat tonight!”

Yonah didn’t respond. It was clearly sarcasm.

“He also said if you don’t eat up, you get nothing for a week!” And the door was closed again.

He still did not look. He had decided he wasn’t going to even touch what they had assumedly given him. It was probably poisoned, or drugged. Or both. He drew another breath.

That smell.

He finally looked. His heart racing. They wouldn’t… would they?

Standing with her back against the bars was a young woman with straight black hair, wearing a similar tattered outfit as himself. She must have been cold, and scared, but she was not shaking. Instead she stared right into his eyes. The fear in them was evident.

Now that his ears were no longer ringing he could hear her breathing. She was trying to calm down.

Apparently she succeeded. As she talked first.

"So... I guess they put you in here because you use magic too?" her voice was weak, and her accent thick upon his ears but he understood her well enough.

Yonah did not respond right away. Carefully he sat up, leaning against the back wall where his chains were connected, rattling them as they piled up.

“Well they certainly didn’t throw you in here so you could be my pet.” he snorted steam with his words, happy he could still do that much, and pleased him to see her concern at this display. So perhaps he could have some fun, even as her scent started to permeate his cell, leading his thoughts in another direction.

“No…” she answered, not moving any closer. “I doubt they’ve been feeding you well. I suspect they threw me in here in hope that you’d eat me.”

Yeah no shit. Had she heard the guard? Or was she too scared to listen. He had listened, even if he pretended otherwise.

“Being tossed a person to eat. How barbaric. Do they think I am some sort of feral animal?” His voice was hoarse with dehydration, and conflict. For he was considering eating her. Yonah HaEsh, despite being half giant, was not above eating smallfolk, if necessary. And she certainly smelled…delectable.

She shook her head “Many giants wouldn't hesitate if hungry enough… They may be normally polite to smaller folk but when half starved? All bets are off”

Yonah nodded, “I suppose so… Though I am only half giant.” He couldn't do more than suppose, as he did not know anything about giants of this world, though he remembered seeing one at Prince Nero’s castle. A little less than twice as tall as his own mother, and his mother was over 40ft tall! What he did know was that giants in his world would be tempted just like him, and while they were also normally polite… ish… their own survival was more important than the life of someone they did not know.

So why was he holding back? Well for one thing, she was out of reach. For another… He did not like the idea of being fed a person, it was insulting. The idea was nearly offensive enough to scare his hunger away. Nearly.

“Why you?” he hissed. Trying to chase away the remaining offensive thoughts. The mental images of grabbing her, sinking his fangs into her soft tasty flesh, and using his jaws and hands to rip her apart. The thoughts of how delicious it would be to finally satiate his hunger properly for the first time in weeks.

It took her a long minute to answer “I… keep escaping. I got out the door this time, nearly made it to the outer wall.”

“Ohhhh, curious” he breathed out, glad his ‘treat’ turned out to be interesting enough to distract his thoughts with. “You do not look like an escape artist. Or are you of hidden talents?”

She shook her head “The magic they use to… nullify the magic of others… doesn’t work on me. And my own magic doesnt like that im captive and kept… helping me escape”

Ohhhhh fascinating. He did not say out loud this time. “Sounds like you are a handful. Though perhaps you are rather, a mouthful. Or two in my case.” he smiled with all his fangs.

She swallowed nervously “Y-yes”

“Why don’t they just kill you? Are you important?”

She shook her head again “They are waiting for the execution order. That’s… why I’m here.”

“What do you mean by that?”

She took a breath. “If another prisoner kills me… they don’t lose their capital funding for executing a prisoner without the proper paperwork…”

“That’s where I come in” and he snarled “I don’t like being used as a tool. And I don't really want to eat you”

She nodded “That’s… good”

“But I am hungry.”

“Oh…”

“Why are you in this prison?”

She looked away. “I… killed someone. With magic.”

More fascinating by the second. “Why, would you do that.”

It was an obvious struggle for her to answer “It wasn’t… it wasn’t intentional. He pinned me up against a wall and started tearing off my clothes. My magic just... reacted. The next thing I knew he was dead”

Yonah snorted again “Should have been intentional!”

“I haven't had any formal training! My magic just happens!”

“Shame” he sighed. “Do you know why I am here?” he asked, changing the subject.

“You’re… a mage. A rogue one. Like I am.”

That was new to him, “A rogue mage?”

“Practicing magic is highly regulated, don’t you know?”

“No.” Yonah saw that made her very confused “I am not of this world”

She seemed to accept this easily. This world seemed to be more comfortable with the idea of other worlds than his own, which had only started to make contact with new realities. He had also decided she didnt need to know his story yet. For he had not made up his mind on keeping her alive, or eating her. If he ate her, then it would have been a waste of breath to tell his own tale of woe.

He tugged on his chains to pile them up and keep them from getting tangled. And for the next few minutes he occupied himself with this task.

“They stop-”

Yonah looked at her so fast his neck cricked. She started again.

“They stopped using shackles on me because the chains kept breaking. Perhaps I could” she took a single step forward, and seeing that Yonah did not react, took another. “I’m sure you would appreciate more freedom of movement.” She took another step.

“Well not all of us are so damn talented now are we?!” he growled. She took two steps back.

“Im trying to help you! Maybe I can figure out how to get it to work on you too!”

“A self proclaimed untrained mage!” he spat “and why would you help a monster like me?”

For as much as he wanted to be civil, he was also a monster. And as much as he tried to fight the temptation to be monstrous, he did not know if he could succeed.

“It wasn’t being a monster that got you in trouble! It was magic.”

She sounded very sure of that.

Yonah snorted “That is your own assumption”, and turned around to lay his head on the chains, facing the corner.

After a few minutes he heard her soft footsteps, and he craned his neck to look. She had gotten a lot closer than he expected and was reaching for his chains. She was clearly in the mood to help him. Unfortunately he was in a mood to play with his would be treat instead, and he did not have any confidence that she could help, so why not have fun.

“Are you sure that’s wise little morsel?” he sighed with a fanged smile.

Amazingly she did not back up but touched chains by his ankles.

“No. But sooner or later they will get the execution order signed. So my odds of survival are shit. But they are better if I free you.”

Yonah made his eyes glow with what fire he had left “Are they better? You said you were untrained.”

She looked embarrassed, “I’m hoping I can practice on these chains of yours. My magic does disable the nullification. We can work together to get out.”

“Untested magic is dangerous” yonah growled “Maybe I should just eat you!” he snapped his teeth.

Still she did not leave. Instead she stood up and glared at him “So what? I die and you survive another week until the next council meeting and your execution is approved?”

Yonah narrowed his eyes “Maybe I dont care about that anymore.” but he does not move either. “You dont know why im truly here. Maybe I deserve this!”

His fiery eyes still on hers, she retaliated “I dont care if you do! I need to get free, and I cant on my own. You want to be free to dont you? If I can use my magic, I can break these chains, disable the anti-magic on this room, save us both!”

Yonah rolled his eyes, losing their staring contest. He did not stop her from continuing her investigations of the chains. But his mind wandered, until he exclaimed.

“Maybe you’re a plant! Instead of using me to kill you, you’re here to kill me!” he jerked the chains away from her.

“I’m unarmed!” she insisted and scrambled forwards to maintain contact with the metal.

“You said they cannot chain you, that their anti-magic shit doesnt work on you, so yours does work, and it’s killed someone before!” He knew that this new panic was not helping him in the slightest, and yet he did not care.

“Most of my magic isn’t working! I just somehow break chains and disable the magic nullification! I don’t know how it works or how to activate it! But the fact I can means they want me dead so they stop having to catch me! And magic isn’t allowed and I definitely don’t have the indicator that I have special permission, those are super obvious.”

Yonah blinked “Could be lies! You could be spitting lies! Permission to use magic. How ridiculous”

“Everyone knows that the few legal mages have face tattoos to make them obvious”

Yonah breathed steam again and finally she backed away from the painful heat. “I dont! I don’t know anything about this world! You could say anything and I wouldn’t know if it was truth or lies!”

“Oh… right” she looked at her feet “You aren't from this world. That must suck as much as my own problems with my memory…”

She rambled a little more about how she was definitely a prisoner, it was obvious from her malnutrition, and that despite not being able to be kept in chains she had marks on her wrists and ankles from the failed attempts.

But Yonah was not listening anymore. Once again he turned away and was trying to cry himself to sleep.

So she took the opportunity to touch the chains near his ankles again.

“Careful now!” he hissed without looking at her. “You don’t want to get burned” Hearing her yelp as she touched the chains, which he had put his mind to pumping his fire into. Maybe he couldn’t melt them, but he could make them painful to touch.

He heard her curse, and then the chains rustled again as she grit her teeth and grasped the half giant sized links, whining in pain and holding back tears. 3 seconds were all she could manage before she had to stumble back, sitting on the ground and blowing on her burnt hands.

Yonah sat up and looked at the chains. He did not let his face show any surprise as he found rust and cracks that had not been there before.

“Wow. It didnt work. Big fucking surprise, some help you were, but I guess you were telling the truth about being being put here for me to eat.” he lay back down. “Maybe I’ll do that in the morning.”

Suddenly the pain in her hands was not as important as what the half giant had said.

“It started to work! But I couldnt hold on long enough!” she wailed, “I tried! I really tried, to help you’re sorry ass!”

“And you FAILED” he snorted back.

“Only temporarily!” she insisted

“And look where it got me. Nowhere. I’m going to sleep”

“If the chains were just a little cooler! Then maybe-”

“I told you to be careful. You have only yourself to blame for your failures and your injuries” he stated, fully aware it was his fault. And that he was sabotaging himself. And yet he couldn't stop himself.

“I was trying to help you. You don’t have to be so rude. We are stuck in the same situation and I am trying to make a difference.”

“I dont have to be polite either. Now you’re the one being rude, keeping me awake”

She crossed her arms in defiance of her own fear “You’re kind of an asshole. I thought maybe we could work together to escape but apparently you’d rather stay and be executed.” She stood up, glancing at her hands, “Guess I’ll just try to figure out how to disable the nullification and escape without you if you really are that opposed to working together.” She turned and walked back to the cell bars before sitting down again.

Yonah looked away, no longer amused by her company, for he was too tired, and too hungry, too angry. Mostly at himself for heating up the chains.

Of course, he couldn't sleep, even though he wanted to do so. After about 10 minutes he glanced at the human, who was making hand motions at the bars. He could just barely feel the sparks of magic failing to become embers at her will.

That got boring really quickly, and he noticed that, unlike earlier, she was shivering. Not with fear…

“You’re wasting your time, little one”

She gasped and jumped from her sitting position, nearly toppling over. He was not asleep like she had assumed. And now he was staring at her with those glowing eyes again, full of fire and hunger.

“I am not giving up” she yawned and shook even worse, “I have no desire to be executed, not by the prince, and not by you!”

Yonah’s eyes dimmed with compassion, “You can try again in the morning. You keep this up and you’re going to freeze to death”

To his surprise she snarled at him, “What do you care!? You obviously arent worried about execution, and I dont have much else to do at the moment!”

Yonah rolled his eyes “Do you want a warm place to sleep or not? I’m only offering once. Can’t imagine you’ve had a warm bed in a while”

“I- what?” she paused, processing what he said, “Warmth… sounds wonderful… But you talked about eating me in the morning!” so she did not step near him.

“I said maybe. So you don't have to worry about it until then” He considers for a moment “I’m still making up my mind. I dont want to be used as an execution method, but I am starving. However” he yawned, his fangs looking larger than before, “I promise not to eat you tonight, and I am very warm if you want to sleep in my arms.”

“This room is absolutely freezing…” she admitted, “But I dont like the idea of you waking up before me to have a snack!”

She still looked hesitant so he added “Tiddles won’t be able to bring anything with you still visibly uneaten”

Now her fear was replaced almost entirely with confusion “Tiddles?”

“One of the little guards who did this to us. Sneaks me food most nights. If he comes tonight, I promise that I will let you try again, in the morning, to break the chains, before I resume considering whether or not to eat you. How does that sound?”

“How… likely is this Tiddles to show up?”

“He appears most nights, but not the last, and he never skips more than one night in a row.”

“How about you promise to let me try again, regardless of if Tiddles shows up!” she was not about to take such a chance.

Yonah scrunched up his face “Fine.”

“Alright, that’s much better.” she took a step towards him again “It means you have to let me go, and you wont think about eating me until after I get to genuinely try to free us”

“If you’re not tucked out of sight soon, I dont get fed, and I’ll have have a much harder time not thinking about it” he threatened “Tiddles can’t claim he thought I ate you if you’re standing alive at the front of the cage!”

A few more steps, she was almost within reach… “Fine… I guess… I just want to try a couple more times, it will be quick”

His patience waring thin he made his eyes flash “but I want to sleep, and to get fed”

“It will only take a moment!” she stopped just out of reach.

“Tiddles often manages to get me an entire barrel of crap! I’ll be willing to share” his mind now on the food, he couldnt think of much else.

“Im starting to figure it out though”

Why was she so insistent! This was not the time! “You’re tired, and cold, and hungry. You try any more magic and you’ll just pass out.”

He had gotten to his knees but he deflated a bit, lowering down into a position not unlike a crouching dragon “So I offer one more time than I said I would. A warm place to sleep. A proper meal. Or you refuse, and I get angrier, I get hungrier, and you stay cold and my only option for dinner”

She hesitated and finally sighs, “You are probably right... I just got so close to escaping today... I was gonna use a wind spell to blast open all the doors when one of them tackled me...” She took the step forward that got her within reach, and Yonah slowly reached around her, stopping her rambles. “But maybe after a rest I’ll have better success”

Having held back long enough, yonah scooped her up and returned to his corner to curl around his new teddy bear, thin and cold as it was. In contrast, his own embrace is soft, pillow-like even. And warm. So very very warm. She tensed in his grip for only a moment before calming down and closing her eyes with a deep sigh.

“By the way, I didnt introduce myself. My name is Savina”

Not resisting the urge, Yonah nuzzled her with his face, his normally neatly trimed facial hair overgrown and tangled and in need of a wash. He was drinking in her scent, even if he was resisting getting a taste, “I didn’t introduce myself either. Now shut up or I’ll put your head in my mouth to shut you up. I hear Tiddles”

As he was facing the back wall, it appeared as if he was alone in his cell, as the footsteps got closer, along with scraping noise and soon, a jingling of keys. Unlike earlier, the screech of the door opening was not so bad, knowing what it meant.

“You awake big guy? Damn this thing is so heavy… I managed to get a lot of scraps so it’s not mostly water this time! Probably tastes just as bad as all the rest, worse since I couldn’t sneak any salt in... but better than nothing right?”

The only response Tiddles got was a slight movement of Yonah’s head. His bushy mane of unkempt black hair shifting. Then two orange lights appeared. The giant's eyes locked on him with anticipation and hatred.

The guard, Tiddles, who couldn't have been older than 20, dragged a barrel within reach of Yonah, though the prisoner did not make any move.

“The others were laughing earlier about how you got a decent meal tonight… but I dont see any plate. Not surprised it was a lie. Im sorry again that this is not seasoned. But…” He left and returned before Yonah could investigate the food. Holding a large sack, the smell coming from which made yonah take a very intense breath.

“I did bring these… They were going to be used to torture other prisoners. Tested them on me. Just one bite and I thought my tongue would burn up in my own mouth, I drank so much water I thought I would throw up. But maybe it’s not as intense for giants!”

Through his dehydration Yonah started to drool, the spicy smell of the hot peppers filling his half FireWitch brain.

The display of hunger caused Tiddles to freeze up a moment “Um… I’ll take that as a yes to these. Great Goddess they make my eyes water!” he set the sack down and went to the other back corner where an empty barrel was on it’s side.

“I’ll take this one, yes?” Tiddles didn’t wait for an answer but said “you’re… not as talkative tonight. Usually you threaten-joke about eating me along with the slop. You alright?”

As soon as Tiddles had moved away from the full Barrel and sack of peppers, Yonah Sat up and scooted over with one hand. Revealing the reason he was not talking. Savina was tucked into his elbow, having fallen asleep.

Tiddles seemed briefly transfixed by the woman. If yonah had to describe the expression the closest would be reverence. Before cringing away.

“That’s what they meant by a good meal!?” He shook off his surprise “what a load of dragon crap. You’re not some feral animal”

Yonah didnt respond to this continued attempt to bond with him as he dragged the barrel back to his corner and stuck his finger in, building up his fire to warm up the cold scraps and water. Tiddles made no more small talk and left him to his pitiful “meal”.

Once the contents of the barrel started to steam, Yonah nudged Savina awake. She was not happy about that.

“I was actually sleeping well, what the fuck”

Yonah set her on his lap, the barrel in front of them both. “If you dont eat some of this now, I’ll eat all of it. You wont get a single drop, but if you eat now, you wont make a dent in it noticeable to me”

She nodded, understanding, and put her hands into the barrel. Yelping in pain as the hot slop made contact with her burnt hands.

Grumbling about how she was an idiot, yonah rummaged around in his chain pile for a flat piece of metal. It was a band from a previous barrel that he had broken. That was the only time he had gotten an earful from Tiddles about how if he continued to do that, Tiddles wouldnt be able to sneak him more food. He was able, with some effort, to heat it, pinch it, and bite it into a sort of ladle, which he used to scoop up the scrap soup and hold it to Savina who was very grateful.

Even with his encouragement she ate very little. Yonah had no idea how long she’d been here, but it was likely longer than himself, and it was very probable that her stomach had shrunken, so he eventually gave into his own hunger and stopped trying to get her to eat more and let her slump against his middle and fall back to sleep.

But before he ate any of it he took the peppers out of the sack and crushed them into the prison soup. It took all his self control not to just eat the peppers straight up. So he rewarded himself by licking the juice from his fingers.

He would have downed the contents of the barrel like a shot but resisted as it would have wasted all his patience preparing it for better taste. And even if it was literal scraps in unsalted water, hunger was the best seasoning. And the peppers, made this the best thing he’d tasted in the time since he woke up in this cell.

It made it much easier to not think about eating the woman in his lap as he too lay down to fall asleep.

---

He woke first, and during the hours of the night his stomach had become rather empty again. Though he kept his promise and resisted thinking about eating her. He did not, however, resist tasting her; he never made a promise involving tasting.

“NO!” she yelped and sputtered as he licked her face like a very large dog waking up it’s owner, clearly convinced he was going to eat her, panicking.

He stopped licking her, But he was not listening to her protests. The moment she yelled the world felt lighter. He felt… no, no time to dwell. He tossed Savina aside and focused on generating a lot of fire into his ankle cuffs. It wasnt enough to melt them, but it was enough to make them soft. Soft enough that he could pull and stretch them and get free.

And then the feeling was gone. Back to that soul crushing feeling that had been ever present, as if it was never gone.

“What did you DO?” he snarled as he rubbed his freed ankles, which were red and raw from the previously tight metal cuffs.

Savina got up, looking frazzled with one side of her hair sticking up and out at odd angles due to half-giant spit. “What I was trying to do last night! Hey!”

Yonah crawled to her and picked her up, putting his face close to hers to demand, rather loudly “Do it AGAIN”

Defiantly she took his gaze and his rank breath “I wish I could! Like I said before, and like you just saw, I can’t do this on purpose! It just happens!”

In a rage his eyes flash and he bares his teeth “Fucking useless!”. His urge to throw her against the wall lost out to his being touch starved and instead he sat back down to hold her just a little too tight.

He did not fail to notice that a small hint of the relief of pressure occurred when she gasped at his moment of rage.

“So. Did that count as your morning try? Should I start considering whether or not to eat you again?”

She stiffened in his grasp “that wasn’t intentional! But doesn’t it prove what I was saying, that I am too useful to consider eating, that with practice I can succeed?”

“I already got my legs free. I can reach the bars now. Reckon i can try smashing them… and if I eat you i may have the strength to do it” he huffed. With a small amount of food and a night’s sleep, what he had was the energy to be a massive dickhead again. “So you would be helping me.”

“Those bars are heavily reinforced with the prison magic! They’ve kept giants bigger than you in this prison!”

“I’d still like to try, so you’re lucky I want company more than a proper meal right now,” he chuckled against her. She was so skinny she wouldn't even be a proper meal, maybe half of one.

“Please let me try again later to disable the nullification. Then we can both get out and get decent food” she sounded both desperate and angry.

“I know exactly what I’m eating if I get out” his eyes flashed again and he licked his lips.

Savina shuddered but did not sound disgusted when she said “i think i have an idea of what… or who… that might be”

“So, are you going to try again or what?” Yonah was getting impatient.

“Will you be ready to break down the bars when the magic reinforcement is gone?” she asked.

Yonah backed up against the wall, bracing himself so he could charge. If she succeeded.

Savina went to the front of the cell, grasped the bars and closed her eyes, muttering. Occasionally she let go and made hand gestures.

Nothing.

Maybe she needed encouragement. Yonah growled at her. Low and threatening. Savina stiffened and he felt the pressure lift, very slightly, very briefly.

“Get on with it!” he hissed.

“I’m trying!” she shot back, walking to the center of the cell, it didnt seem to matter where she was.

Then she screamed, her whole body hitting the ground as suddenly Yonah was on top of her, having pinned her under a hand. He snarled in her face “Maybe I should just eat you then! At least my last meal will be a tasty one!”

This succeeded in having the desired effect. Whatever the nullification was, it lifted. However he could feel it coming back.

“NO! I’m trying, give me one more chance, I know I can do it!”

He was not listening to her. He had confirmed his theory. Without hesitation he took her left arm in his jaws. She started crying and screaming, Pushing at his face to pull away. “Stop Stop! You’re hurting me!” Her voice was shrill.

/That’s the idea/ he thought.

With a sickening CRUNCH and a shriek, it was Yonah’s turn to be thrown, against the wall.

Not that he cared. Not one bit.

The magical nullification was gone.

From the entire prison. With no signs of coming back.

Keeping his promise not to eat her, and extending that promise to any part of her, Yonah crawled over to Savina and opened his jaws to release the nearly severed arm, along with at least a gallon of bloody drool. Savina just sobbed. Hmmm she could bleed out. That would also be counter to his promise, in spirit, if not in word. He rubbed a thumb and finger together until they were red hot and pressed the tip of the finger to her shoulder.

The scent of burning flesh filled the air as he cauterized her wound. But there were more important things to take care of now.

Fueled by adrenaline, hunger, and literal fire in his veins, yonah gripped his prison bars, making them red hot. In a few moments he wrenched them apart and he was out. He barely noticed the flash of light behind him as he stepped out of his cage.

The alarms hadn't even started ringing by the time he ran into the first unfortunate guard.

----

It was the alarm bells that brought Savina back to earth. She sat up, and blanched as a sticky arm rolled off her chest and into her lap. She was still covered in blood but the wound had sealed. For all her lost memory she did recall something very important. She should keep her arm. Holding it kept her from trying to touch her shoulder. She had never experienced anything so painful in her life-

No… wait. She had experienced something more painful… Now her head throbbed too! Nevermind any of this! She had to find the half giant mage, he was her ticket out. Even with the magic nullification gone, she wouldn’t get far drained of her own magic and severely injured.

It wasn’t hard to find him. All she had to do was follow the trail of carnage and busted cell doors.

The first guard she found had no head, and a chunk of a shoulder missing. Blood pooled on the ground from the massive bite. Hmmmm. He had a nice sword. Putting her arm down momentarily, She took the sword and a belt to sheath it. It was a bit tricky to get the belt off the person and onto herself but she managed. Before she took her arm off the ground and continued on, not caring to avoid stepping in the blood. .

More dead guards lined the halls as she progressed. Most of them were missing their heads, some of them burned to a crisp. But many were only missing their limbs, or had a bite taken out of the side. Some of those were still living. One in particular had been bitten from the hips down, their guts spilling out onto the floor. She decided not to use her sword to put them out of their misery. Her excuse being that it would be too much effort to put her arm down every time.

Finally she caught up to the large mage. He was in one of the storage rooms where the more dangerous items confiscated from mages were kept. He was ransacking it, shoveling items into something, but finished as she entered and stood up, putting a hat on his head. If he wasn’t so large and didn’t have such a distinct physique, she might not have recognized him.

Dressed in a stunning outfit of mostly blues and golds, with a massive wide brimmed pointed hat to match, his hair now shining and tied back in a segmented pony tail, standing up to his full height and holding a majestic wooden staff, the once brutish creature from the cell was looking more like a person. Except for the fire in his eyes and blood and viscera hanging from his jaws.

With misplaced confidence she walked right up to Yonah and holding the shoulder end of the severed arm she swung to smack him in the ankle. He had on boots now and she wasnt sure he felt that until he looked down at her.

“You FUCKING ASSHOLE!” She bellowed “You TORE my arm off! Why would you do that?!”

He looked at her angry and quizzically “The anti-magic field is gone. It worked.”

She did not back away from his gaze, since he was not currently trying to eat her she figured he wasn’t going to. Clearly he had not hesitated with the guards. She waved the arm around in frustration "you didnt have to BITE IT OFF"

Yonah crouched down to snarl “Clearly I did. You weren’t in enough… danger to disable the field. I’m rather clever you know.” Without asking he scooped her up to hold her up to his face with a cheeky, blood stained grin, “After you told the story of your assault, I started to put the pieces together. Mortal peril seems to do the trick nicely”

“I still dont think you needed TO BITE MY ARM OFF,” she repeated.

Once again she used the severed arm to slap him, now in the face.

He blinked in a kind of shock and then bared his teeth “I think you’ve lost your arm privileges”

His first instinct was to get the wrist between his teeth and gulp the arm down. But… he still felt like he should keep his promise. And now that his belly was half filled with chunks of prison guard he could think clearer.

“WHAT THE FUCK YOU BASTARD!”

Savina shrieked as the giant man pinched her arm, the severed arm, plucking it from her weak grasp. His eyes flashed and it was lit up like a match.

Lost for words she watched as her arm burned into ash before her very eyes, the giant man grinning once again.

Now she was shaking with rage “I COULD HAVE RE-ATTACHED THAT”

His grin became a scowl “How in this reality was I supposed to know that?”

“Weren't you listening, you didnt even need to bite it off in the first place! My magic was starting to work!”

He talked as he placed her onto his shoulder, securing her to the harness he had found with his belongings.

“Didn’t I? We dont know that. Guess we will have to experiment later” he smiled wickedly, marching out of the room “But right now, I’m still hungry and there’s still more guards left alive.”

As he said this a guard rushed around the corner with a crossbow and fired. Yonah, having heard the footsteps just jerked his staff and the bolt exploded. He snatched up the guard, put the poor fucker’s head in his mouth and bit down, while pulling the body away. The sound was similar to when he’d bitten her arm, and blood spurted from the neck onto his face, and Savina’s entire person.

Yonah swallowed the head and tossed the body aside “I can’t eat them all at my size even if I only eat pieces. I can burn them, or crush them” he explained as yet another guard appeared which he simply squashed by slamming his staff down upon, “but I think we need some help. The human prisoners do not seem so eager to get back at their tormentors as I had thought.”

“They are running away from you. If you weren’t on a massacre they would probably be taking the advantage to riot and get revenge.”

“So we need more monsters.”

As he continued through the prison he broke every occupied cell, letting the prisoners run, and killing every guard with an intense savagery. But the most horrific thing, in Savina’s opinion, was when he picked up whole and alive guards and tossed them into his hat.

Eventually he broke into a cell and the prisoner inside did not immediately cower or run, but stood up, eyes reflecting in the darkness. A tall pale man with dark hair smiled with sharp fangs.

“That’s a vampire!” Savina informed him. The vampire bowed.

“A very blood starved vampire, and I could smell the flood coming from the other side of the prison, yet I was too weak to break myself free once I felt the magic nullification just, go away. Was that you?” he stared at Savina, not Yonah.

Savina gingerly touched the raw, burned flesh of her shoulder and looked very annoyed, “Yes. it was me.”

“I’m going to feast now, as I see you have been doing, mysteriously small giant”

“Don’t fill up on the ones I’ve killed, take out the ones still alive” Yonah instructed.

“Wise words,” said the vampire, “though I will take a little of this one, just to gain back my strength.”

Before leaving yonah sniffed at the vampire. Then reached up into his hat and pulled out a fancy, though sadly wrinkled and dirtied, suit. And tossed it at the vampire.

“Smells like you”

The vampire stood up from taking a drink of blood from the guard who Yonah had decided to merely kick against a wall.

“My clothes! You are a gentleman monster!” And with a snap of his fingers swapped out his prison outfit for his old one. “I feel more like myself already!”

Done with the small talk, Yonah moved on. It was time to get out of this place, with hopefully minimal distractions. He would still make a snack, a charred corpse, or a bloody pulp out of any guard he came across.

But it was only a few cells later that again, the prisoner did not immediately scream or flee. Yonah could sense a very eerie magical aura from her, she was pale like the vampire but he suspected she was not one. She smiled at him like the vampire but her teeth were flat.

“My dear emancipator, did you come across a spider necklace during your rampage? I would very much like to have it back.”

That was odd enough that Yonah decided not to ignore it and instead reach into his hat. He did not recall a spider necklace so he could only think the words. An object indeed fell into his hand. Which he tossed to the woman who squealed like a giddy teenager as she caught it.

Putting it on she rubbed the shining black thorax of the obsidian spider inlaid on the silver medallion.

That eerie aura from before increased 100 fold, followed by the chittering, skittering, buzzing of millions of tiny legs and wings. Unlike Yonah’s cell, this woman’s had a window. And through it marched or flew an unimaginable number of insects and arachnids.

Yonah took a step back. But the plaque of bugs was swarming into the prison from every window, every crevice, every crack in the wall, every broken pipe.

“My children will clean out this place” she giggled, though it was closer to a witch’s cackle.

Yonah backed away from her. Deciding that it was now time to leave this wretched place, confident the bugs could take care of the rest. It was by her merciful magic that the bugs avoided him entirely, and seemed to be able to scramble away from his footsteps even as he started down the corridor.

Ah, another guard, coming out of a nearby door, a good distraction from the creepy crawlies. He rushed and shoved the guard up to their torso into his mouth and got ready to bite down. As the ribs started to crack between his teeth the taste of this guard matched up to a familiar smell.

Releasing his jaws he held a gasping, screaming Tiddles.

“If you dont want that one, my babies will happily take him!” The bug witch called from behind him.

Ignoring the creepy aura yonah wheeled around snarling “He’s MINE” and he secured the flailing young man to his shoulder.

“Suit yourself” said the witch, “but he seems to not like you very much, and I am not overly fond of him myself”

Tiddles was indeed trying to free himself, earning him a swift flick to the head. “Probably hurts with those broken ribs to struggle like that, little one. I will keep you safe.”

Without another word Yonah turned back. Enough of this. He pointed his staff at the wall and blasted a hole through, stepping outside. Still in the walled compound he did not take a fresh breath of freedom just yet. He ran for the walls.

Arrows and crossbow bolts rained down at him. Fine. It was time for some big magic. Yonah stopped and took his staff, raising it into the air he found in it the perfect spell. He swirled it around and chanted. The morning sky, which was clear, crackled, and a swirling storm cloud gathered overhead.

The guards on the ramparts screamed as bolts of lightning struck them, leaving Yonah free to take down a section of wall and flee into the forested mountains.

It was after he had been half running half jogging for 15 minutes that he stopped and sat down against a cool boulder shaded by the trees. Or rather he nearly collapsed. One big gorey feast after weeks of starvation would not immediately restore him. That would take time. He had been running on the reserves of his magic, adrenaline, and a bloodlust.

The moment he closed his eyes to rest however, he felt Tiddles renew his struggling.

“Why do you keep this up” Yonah mumbled, not looking at Tiddles, but feeling him freeze.

“I dont want to die!” the young man squeaked. “I saw you eat the other guards!”

“Well then aren’t you in luck that I filled up on them? I had enough to be satisfied for a while.”

That did not calm Tiddles down any more, the struggling was back “You kept me as leftovers!” he shrieked.

“Naw” Yonah said and reached into his hat to draw out an intact, but dead, guard, “I already did that.”

He felt Tiddles faint at that declaration. This did not bring Yonah any joy, as Tiddles’ terror had done before. Being so full Yonah just returned the corpse to the pocket space that was his wizard hat.

“So, where to now?” Savina said after five minutes “We need to get going, surely someone will try to follow! There is more than one shift of guards and they will be looking for all the escaped prisoners, especially you, who was responsible!”

“I think the bug witch will make sure no one does” yonah said, though it was more likely that at least one idiot would manage to slip away. “But I am tired, We need to find a cave or something to hide out in to recoup my… I mean our strength”

“I can help with that”

As if on cue the bug witch stepped out from behind a tree. Yonah eyed her suspiciously. Savina was too hurt and too exhausted to do the same.

“Oh really? And why would you?”

She just laughed “You saved me? And you returned my amulet to me! I owe you big time. By the way, you look just awful. Would you like my children to clean you up?”

“What do you mean?”

Before she answered there was more buzzing in the air as wasps swarmed around her “these little gals are very efficient! I promise they will not sting”

“They cannot hurt my humans either!” he said, nervous about what was about to happen.

“Of course”

He still held his breath as the wasped charged at him and his companions. Savina screamed as well before she smartly held her breath too. Tiddles was the luckiest, unconscious for the whole thing.

It was over in just a minute, thank the gods, as Yonah would have to take a breath. Still, he sneezed and a few bugs flew out. Savina was breathing heavily.

“So, bug witch,”

“Cait!”

“Cait… What’s a nearby place for a big monster to get some rest?”

The woman considered “Hmm… The woods that way are decent. Bears will be scared off by you. Humans should leave you alone. There’s a cave in those woods if you want extra shelter. I want to get back to my home but I can have one of my babies guide you there”

“That would be much appreciated” Yonah focused and gathered up more strength to stand up. And then froze in place as the largest drider he had ever seen came into sight.

“Babe!” he called, ignoring yonah and scooping up the witch into a hug that transitioned into messy kisses.

“I got out of the prison!” she declared, “this nice big fellow helped me! Got my amulet!”

The Drider was a full head taller than Yonah and eyed him over with all 8 eyes before nodding. From between all of his feet a smaller, but large dog sized tarantula, scampered up to Yonah.

“Charlie here will lead you to shelter!” said Cait, “Now I haven't been home in a long time”

And with that, the witch and the drider left.

Charlie made a hissing sound while scraping her feet on a rock to get Yonah’s attention. She led Yonah to a large rocky incline and eventually to the mouth of a cave.It was large enough that if he crawled, he could get in. Which he did without hesitating.

The cave was larger in the inside and he probably could have stood up but he stayed sitting.

The spider stayed at the entrance of the cave, made a little dance, and then disappeared.

“Seems safe enough…” Yonah said. He unharnessed Savina so she could sit in his lap. “Guess what, I was lucid enough during my rampage that I picked up food that wasn’t dead guards!” and from his hat he got out some bread and cheese, and even a barrel of water.

“Um… no thanks” she said.

“You must eat, Savina”

“Im too nauseated from the pain.”

She did look a little green now that she said it.

“I have a healing potion… it should numb the pain a bit.” This he took from a sleeve. A small vial. Just a single ounce. It was like a grain of rice in his palm “It will even help with your shoulder, to at least regrow the flesh around it and stop infection”

She took it, and still looking like putting anything in her mouth would make her vomit, she downed it like a shot.

30 seconds later she felt much better. Or at least, felt less pain… She still felt like complete shit. But took the food with her good arm and started eating.

“I dont know why you brought him along…” she said, referring to Tiddles through a mouthful of bread.

“I doubt someone as kind as him works at an evil prison if he has a happy home to return to. Plus if i had let him go.. The other prisoners might not have been so kind to him. He was still a guard.” Yonah yawned, “Fuck. Im tired. Didnt we just wake up like, an hour ago?” he asked.

“Sure but you just broke a prison” Savina pointed out.

“I did… didn’t I…” Yonah tried to lay down but found that didn’t work with Tiddles on his shoulder. So he resigned himself to sleeping upright for now.

Still half starved, Savina did not manage to eat much. So yonah put the food back. He found a outcrop of rock that he could lean against and put an arm protectively in front of Savina. She put her own remaining arm over his. And they both fell asleep at the same time.

Even through the exhaustion of his over half a month in prison, and the torpor his kind got from a full belly, Yonah HaEsh heard the quiet footsteps of someone entering the cave.

Yet his brain was still slow to react. He opened his eyes and stared down.

Kneeling in his lap, holding Savina’s arm to his fanged mouth, moments away from biting down, was the vampire.

----

[FIN]

UHHHH thanks for reading. If you liked this please let me know. If this fits your blog theme please reblog it!

I hope you enjoyed this. and I hope to have more of it for you in the future. lots more adventure to come!

#sfw vore #hard vore #fatal vore #nonsexual vore #ROTDK #sfw does not mean NON FATAL #there is nothing here that wouldnt be in LOTR #well maybe it's a little more intense than LOTR #I work on a sliding scale of LOTR to GoT and this leans more LOTR

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