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danicadenniss · 11 months ago

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DreamWorks Trolls

Branch: Troll Of The Wildglade

Chapter 3: Branch Meet Poppy

In the Trolls Brotherhood AU, the brothers grew up, Spruce became a blacksmith and a father who got married and had 11 children, his wife is pregnant, Poppy as the village grump, Branch became a strong adult.

-20 Years Later-

Years had passed since then and Branch grew up into fine, handsome and strong adult. He wore a brown patched up pants, he wear a leafy green vest with it, a blue dragon scales bracelet and necklace on it, given to him by his dragon friend named Sky. It has been 20 years since his father's sacrifice and now Branch had reached the age of 20 and has become more mature, responsible, cautious, but as usual, he still have some faults. He can still be quite naive and his curiosity can get the best of him. But he's loved by everyone by the clan for his heart and fairness.

John Dory became a second captain, his hair got shaved in the back and the sides, he wear a brown leather jacket with a white and dark brown spotted fur collar, green pants that go to his knee and signature green skiing goggles with a pink lenses.

Spruce became a blacksmith, he wear a necklace around his neck, black loose shirt, and white pants with styled back hair, he is the second taller and he has a plump face and body, and his lost physical fitness and still attractive. He got married with his wife Brandy who is a Vacay Islander, as she is pregnant with her baby. He has a daughter and 11 sons.

Floyd became a swordsmen, his became dark magenta pink, and twisted around his head partly covers his face. He is shirtless, as he wore a black ripped shorts with a black belt around his waist and a black stud earring, he have a black tattoo of his father Thorn on his upper back, he having shy and meek personality.

Over the years, Ivy and Rosiepuff have grown as well. Ivy's had a light grayish pink streaks and some wrinkles, but she is a grandmother of Spruce's 11 kids but Alder help watch over the clan. Rosiepuff grew wiser and also gain various white streaks, but she's young at heart, at least that's what Branch like to says. Ivy proudly decided to step down and gave their father's leaders to Branch.

Branch: Let's go, bud! Sky took up, spreading his wings gallantly. As they headed towards some trees, Branch saw several of his handmade targets that he had set of arrows. Pulling back his bowstring, he fired and hit a perfect bullseye. Branch hit perfect bullseyes on each and every one. Sometimes he would hit one target with two arrows after another just for the fun of it.

Branch: Great work, Sky. Now let's pick up some speed!

Sky didn't hesitate and the two of them flew like a rocket. Flying across the valley, they passed mountains, and even some creeks on the way. Branch held on to his friend tightly but would let go of hold, spreads his arms out and shouts of joy as he felt the breeze through the air. It wasn't long when the two of them reached whooped happily.

Branch: That was great, my friend. Never cease to amaze me. (Floyd walked to them and saw taught, he smiled proudly)

Floyd: Bro! This is amazing! How did you do this?

Branch: Floyd, like our father before me, I'll becoming a leader of the Glade Clan and with that honor, came responsibility. (A sudden growl had alarmed them, they turned and saw John Dory running in horror)

John Dory: Bros! Come quick!

Floyd: What is it, John?

John Dory: A purma is gonna to kill the trollings. But we got to warn the whole clan, right now.

They look and saw a Purma creeping into the bushes. Purma are feline creatures that resembles a mountain lion, only they have purple fur with red spots, white underbelly and long tails. They are dangerous considering they are ambush predators, taking their prey when they least expect it. Branch set his eyes onto three trollings playing on the soft grassy away from the clan that were located on top of a hill having picnics and fun together. The clan was too far and busy the danger the children were in. Ignacio Carapax became older, he wear a khaki hat, a black collared button up shirt, dark brown cargo pants with gray belt around his waist and tan combat boots, he patting it's head, as smells.

Ignacio Carapax: (smiled evilly) Ahh, trollings I got to tell Reyes about we'll hunting today, now my pet! I want you to grabbed the trolls and bring them to me. (Purma run to the grass, with an evil laugh)

Bounty Troll Hunters #4: We almost got them now!

Taking action, the brothers quickly warned their clan and the trollings.

Branch: BOUNTY HUNTERS! PURMA! RUN!

The clan raised their heads in alarm, including Ivy, Alder and Rosiepuff who became alert of the situation. A few seconds later, Purma jumped out of bushes, heading towards to the children. The three kid gasped and ran away with the Purma chasing after them. Ignacio walked out of the tent with the other hunters are watching them, as they ran, Harper suddenly tripped and fell. The Purma pounced towards her, Arthur Slugworth walked toward her with a butterfly net.

Arthur Slugworth: Little trolling is scared of my butterfly net, and you can't escape from the hunters.

He looked at an arrow suddenly landed between them, preventing him and the beast from hunting Harper. At the moment, Floyd jumps in to save Harper from getting caught by him.

Floyd: Run, Harper!

Spruce: John, what is your plan (threw a rope at Arthur Slugworth's feet as tripped and fell down to the grass and his butterfly net, the Purma whipped it's tail at them) Ow!

John Dory: Ow!

She didn't hesitate to quickly got back on her feet and safely run towards the clan as the Purma focused on Branch. Branch stood definitely with a loaded arrows at the Purma. John and Spruce got up, they got his dagger and his spear. Floyd got his sword fighting against the Purma. The animal attacks with it claws, but Branch rolled away and shot an arrow at it, grazing the cheek. It started to ran off. Thinking he had scared off. The brothers relaxed a little, only to hear warning shouts from the clan.

Ivy and Rosiepuff: Boys, look out!

Brandy: Behind you four!

The brothers heard him and looked back. The Purma pounced behind them pinning him down John, Spruce, Floyd and Branch immediately started to started to try to shove him, using his bow to prevent its fangs and claws from getting to him. Nothing a big stone near them, Branch then thought of an idea. The brothers stretching their hairs, they grabs the Purma's tail, twirled him around and threw it against the stone, hard towards Arthur Slugworth's lap.

Arthur Slugworth: Oof! Don't just stand there! Gets those little creatures! Not me! Not me! Why!

John slashed it tail back, Spruce and Floyd stabbed it's underbelly and pulled out, the beast roared in pain and panicked when Arthur got up and ran away from them, when Branch loaded an arrow at his face for the finishing blow, only for it to fire near its face, giving it a warning to stay away.

Branch: Never come back! (Glared and the Purma rose and ran away with Branch in pursuit. Shouted) Get out of here! Nobody gets hunt on our watch. (Snort and then he and the brothers smiled victoriously.)

The Purma screeched and disappeared into the woods.

Ignacio Carapax: What! NOOOOOOOO! (growled angrily)

Bounty Troll Hunters #4: It's no use, we most go back to the village now. Madame, we explained to ourselves.

They turned back and the whole clan ran to them happily.

Alder: You boys, were amazing! (Rosiepuff and Ivy ran to hug them)

Rosiepuff: (checked all over them) are you boys alright? No scratches or bruises?

Branch: (chuckled) We're fine, Grandma,

John Dory: We're heroes!

Rusty: That was amazing!

The purple trolling: We are now!

Harper came to them and hugged them gratefully.

Harper: Thank you for saving us, my heroes!

Floyd: My pleasure, Harper!

John Dory and Spruce: You're welcome!

Branch: Anytime, Harper.

They looked around, being surrounded by their trolls, all of them cheering and congratulating them on their heroic rescue. The brothers felt proud of themselves. Including a grayish pink troll clapped to them. She was walking in the village carrying sticks with her bare hands, she looked around the forest, and she met Branch. She rarely ever sing again because of her sister's disappearance, she's always depressed with emotions, excluding happiness.

Grayish pink troll: Bravo, Branch, what do you want? That's cat is looked scary. Huh? In my bunker, it wrote Your NOT welcome here. The hunters almost captured my sister, 20 years ago.

Branch: Poppy! We defeat the Purma, Alder want to keep the villagers safe from bounty hunters.

Poppy: What's the hell, are you talking about? But thank you, Branch. My mother died from her natural cause of illness, 10 years ago, since I was 10 years old and I miss her so much.

Branch: Sorry to hear about this, (sobbing) I kept having nightmare, since Clay's disappearance along with your sister during the fire cause explosion, in the forest, since father sacrifice himself to stop the hunter's leader as he burned to ashes, heard his last words until he died, since I was six months old. I will take his place as a new leader of Glade Clan. (Wiped his eyes trying stop his tears from flowing) He is in my heart.

Poppy: One day, you're going to be leader, I'm going back to my bunker. (She walked away from him and going back to her bunker.)

After finally reaching their home, They saw Rosiepuff serving some tea for herself and Ivy whom tell to Spruce's kids a story about her husband's sacrifice himself to save them from hunters during the fire cause explosion in the forest. When she saw the br, they walked towards them as they shared a hug together.

Branch: We love you, Mom, we love Grandma.

Ivy: We love you boys too! Sweeties. Your father would be so proud of you boys and so are we forever. (Made a candlelight vegil for her husband's sacrifice in the picture frame) I hope Clay will be okay.

Branch: Good night, brothers. Good night, mother.

Ivy: Good night, boys.

Floyd: Good night, bro.

Spruce: Night, brothers. (Yawned)

John Dory: G' Night, brothers. (As they watched Branch leave)

He walked out the pod and climbed towards a branch where he not only could see the Wildglades, but also the clear, starry night sky. Clutching his necklace, he stared at the night sky.

Branch: Dad, I know you're out there somewhere watching over us. I never knew that someone like me could be a hero as well as a leader until today. My brothers and I are heroes, even though I'm doing fine, I still miss you a lot. You must be so proud of me and my brothers, but I have a feeling that you always will be. I see a grayish pink troll who's live in her bunker, she looked very depressed without her happiness. I will always remember you and love you for all time. (wiped his eyes, trying to stop his tears from flowing.)

He smiled as much as a troll could as he watched a shooting star streaming across the sky above him.

Fun Fact: The Purma was inspiration for the cougar scene. Poppy as an over cautious, unpleasant and cynical princess who hates singing, dancing, hugging and music, after she turned gray due to her mother's death just like Branch in the first movie. Protect The Wildlife from hunting them, then I donate for Night To Shine next month.

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taeswolfie · 1 year ago

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𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝑭𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 : 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑺𝒊𝒙

☽︎𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑴𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒐𝒓☾︎

Ch.05 - Ch.07

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x fem!Reader

Word count: 5.5k

Y/n sits next to Stiles in class. He's been mad at Scott since parent/teacher conference day because, while people were running around in the school parking lot in a panic to get away from an actual mountain lion (which was gunned down by Allison's dad, Chris Argent), Noah had gotten hit by a car. He wasn't seriously injured but he was hurt nonetheless. Now, as Scott makes his way into class and behind Stiles, he ignores their werewolf friend.

"Still not talking to me?" Scott asks. He sighs when Stiles doesn't answer. "Can you at least tell me if your dad's okay? I mean, it's just a bruise, right? Some soft tissue damage. Nothing... That big."

"Not helping." Y/n spoke under her breath knowing Scott would hear her.

He hangs his head for a moment before trying again. "You know I feel really bad about it, right?" Still no answer from Stiles. "Okay." He sighs again. "What if I told you that I'm trying to figure this whole thing out, and... That I went to Derek for help?"

Stiles rolls his eyes in disbelief before looking at Y/n who was looking at her notebook. "Y/n, can you please-"

"No." She cut off, not even glancing away from her paper. "You're not gonna drag me into this. It's between you two."

Stiles sighs and faces forward again. "If I was talking to you, I'd say that you're an idiot for trusting him. But obviously I'm not talking to you." The bell rings for the start of class and Scott pulls his books from his bag.

Y/n can feel Stiles' growing intrest and his feeble attempts to stop his curiosity in favor of continuing to ignore Scott, but she knows it won't work. She smirks and whispers to herself. "3...2...1..."

Stiles whips around to face Scott. "What did he say?"

"Bingo." Y/n smiles in amusement.

"Wh- he wants you to tap into your animal side and get angry?" Stiles confirms as he, Scott and Y/n leave the classroom, Scott having told them what happened with the Hale.

"Yeah." Scott nods.

"All right, well, correct me if I'm wrong, but every time you do that, you try to kill someone, and that someone's usually us." He gestures between himself and Y/n.

"I know. That's what he means when he says he doesn't know if he can teach me. I have to be able to control it."

"It seems more like you need anger manegment than tapping into it." Y/n mused.

"How's he gonna teach you?" Stiles continued his questioning.

"I don't know. I don't think he does either."

"Okay. When are you seeing him again?"

"He told me not to talk about it. Just act normal and get through the day."

Stiles stops walking making Scott and Y/n stop too. "When?"

"He's picking me up at the Animal Clinic after work."

"After work. All right, well, that gives us to the end of the school day then."

"To do what?"

"To teach you ourselves." Stiles grabs Y/n's wrist as they continue to walk and she gives him a confused look.

"How are we gonna teach him?" She asked.

"I'm still thinking of that."

...

Y/n listens in to Allison and Lydia as she sits in the cafeteria with Stiles and Scott, the latter hiding behind a World History book. Allison is reading from an older book to Lydia about the Beast of Gévaudan. Y/n's heard of La Bête before. Her mother would tell her stories when she was younger, one of them being about the Maid of Gévaudan. A woman who killed the Beast with a deadly spear head, a witch's charm, and the help of a man of Silver. Most people would think that the Beast's death was a triumphant story, but the story her mother told was one laced with sadness.

Lydia left after a bit and Stiles looked at Scott. "I think the book's making it more obvious. Besides, she's reading anyway."

"So did you come up with a plan yet?" Scott peeked around the book at his friends.

"I think so."

"Does that mean you don't hate me now?"

"No. But your crap has infiltrated my life, so now I have to do something about it. Plus I'm definitely a better Yoda than Derek."

"Okay, yeah, you teach me."

"Yeah, I'll be your Yoda."

"Yeah, you... Be my Yoda."

"Your Yoda I will be." Stiles chuckles at his not-so-great Yoda impression and Y/n huffs a laugh while Scott had no reaction. "I said it backwards."

"Yeah, I-I know."

"Have you still not watched Star Wars?" Y/n asked. "I mean, I haven't seen them fully but even I know who Yoda is."

Scott gives her a helpless shrug. "All right, you know what? I definitely still hate you. Uh-huh. Oh, yeah." Stiles gets up with his things, grabs Scott's 'cover', and pulls Y/n along with him as he leaves the cafeteria. Scott scrambles after them as Allison notices him. She calls for him but he hides in the boys' bathroom to avoid her.

"Why do you keep dragging me with you away from Scott?" Y/n asked as Stiles pulled her along with him down the halls.

"Do you want to sit with Scott?" He seemed to accuse.

"It's not that I want to sit with Scott, it's just that it seems like you're trying to keep me away from him because you're mad at him." When he didn't respond she sighed and made them stop walking. "Stiles, I'm not gonna pick sides, okay? You're both my friend so I'm on both of your sides, always."

"Yeah, okay. I get it. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." She smiled at him. "Now, let's go Obi-wan this shit." She lightly tugged on the hand Stiles was still holding her with and they started walking again. His eyes fell from her profile down to their hands, a bit of surprise going through him when she didn't let go. His mind was too occupied with trying to help Scott, so he was unable to overthink her actions as he usually would. Instead he just found that he liked the way her hand felt in his, and so he held on a little tighter and smiled when she did the same.

Later Y/n and Stiles lead Scott to the lacrosse field. Stiles carried a lacrosse stick and a duffel bag. "Okay." Stiles sat himself, the stick, and the bag on the bench seat. "Now... Put this on." He rummaged through the bag and handed Scott a heart monitor strap.

"Isn't this one of the heart rate monitors for the track team?" Scott asked once he looked at it.

"Yeah. We borrowed it."

"Stole it." Y/n and Scott chorused.

"Temporarily misappropriated."

"Coach uses it to monitor his heart rate with his phone while he jogs, and you're gonna wear it for the rest of the day." Y/n explains.

"Isn't that Coach's phone?" Scott spots the named device in Y/n's hand.

"That, I stole." Stiles nodded.

"Why?"

"All right, well, your heart rate goes up when you go wolf, right?"

"When you're playing lacrosse," Y/n gives an example.

"When you're with Allison," Stiles adds.

"Whenever you get angry."

"Maybe learning to control it is tied to learning to control your heart rate."

"Like The Incredible Hulk." Scott realizes.

"Kind of like The Incredible Hulk, yeah."

"No, I'm like The Incredible Hulk." Scott seemed to really like that idea.

"Would you shut up and put the strap on?" Scott obeys.

They all stand in the middle of the field as Stiles tapes Scott's wrists together behind his back. "This isn't exactly how I wanted to spend my free period."

"Tell me about it." Y/n comments.

"All right. You ready?" Stiles asks as he and Y/n move a good distance away.

"No."

"Remember, don't get angry." Stiles sits the bag down and Y/n sits down behind it, taking Coach's phone and opening the heart rate app.

"I'm starting to think this was a really bad idea." A moment later Stiles takes up his lacrosse stick and hurls a ball at Scott who groans in pain from the impact. Y/n checks the phone. His heart rate is 115. He throws another ball and it hits Scott square in the chest. "Okay, that one... Kinda hurt."

"Quiet. Remember, you're supposed to be thinking about your heart rate, all right? About staying calm."

"Stay calm." He mutters to himself just as he gets hit again. "Staying calm. Staying totally calm. There's no balls flying at my- agh!" He's hit again. A few more are thrown. "Aah! Son of a bitch!" Scott groans.

"You know what? I think my aim is actually improving."

"Wonder why."

"Ah, buh, buh. Don't get angry."

"I'm not getting angry."

She looks again and it's 130 this time. "You seem to be enjoying this a little too much." Y/n looked up at Stiles.

He scrunched his face. "Nah." He continues to throw balls at Scott.

After another particularly hard one Scott tries to stop Stiles for a moment. "Stop. Just wait. Wait, just hold on."

"Stiles, wait-" Y/n tries to catch him, but it's too late as Stiles throws another and Scott drops down to his knees. "Stiles." She shows him the phone. Scott's heart rate has jumped to 160. Scott groans as he tries to calm down.

"Scott?" Stiles calls. Scott ends up tearing the tape and he hunches over on the ground, breathing heavily. He seems to calm down as the monitor also starts to drop.

Y/n gets up and goes over to Scott to check on him, Stiles following. "Scott, you started to shift."

"From anger." He pants. "But it was more than that. The angrier I got, the stronger I felt."

"So it is anger, then. Derek's right." Stiles says.

"I can't be around Allison."

"Just because she makes you happy?"

"No, because she makes me weak."

...

Y/n had left the boys as they went to the locker rooms. She could have followed them in as long as the other boys were decent, but she didn't want to. Scott was convinced at the moment that Allison made him weaker, yet Y/n wasn't quite so sure. There's something about the girl that Y/n thinks helps Scott. It's like it's on the tip of her tongue and she can't grasp it. For now she tables it for future thought and makes her way to her locker to retrieve her present for Allison. With Scott whisking her away Y/n hadn't been able to give it to her on her birthday, but now is just as good. A late gift is just as good as an on time one. Once she grabbed the gift bag she went on a search for her friend.

She found Allison sitting against some lockers with the book Y/n saw her with earlier in her lap, a few papers on the floor next to her. "Hey, you." Y/n greets as soon as she's close enough.

Allison looks up and smiles once she sees Y/n. "Hey."

Y/n plops down next to her. "I wasn't able to give you this because you ran away with Scott, like the cute couple you are, so I'm doing it now." She held the bag up for Allison to take. "Happy late birthday." She said the last part quietly.

"Oh, Y/n! You really didn't have to." She shyly took the bag.

"I didn't have to but I wanted to. It was no biggie, really. Just open it." She excitedly coaxed.

"Okay, okay." Allison chuckled. Once she did open it she gasped and pulled out the gift. A brown wooden arrow held a small dreamcatcher, and hanging around it were strings with white feathers and some beads. "It's beautiful! Did you make this?" She looked at Y/n.

"Yeah." She nodded with a proud smile. "It's just something I like to do sometimes."

"The arrow. How did you...?"

"Scott told me you liked archery." Allison nodded in understanding as she continued to admire her gift. She lightly touched the webbing with a smile. "My mom used to tell me that dreamcatchers help you when you sleep. The bad dreams get caught in the web while the good dreams slip through the hole in the middle. She taught me how to make them when I was younger." A sad smile came to Y/n's face and Allison noticed.

She put a comforting hand on hers. "Thank you. I love it."

"It's no problem." Y/n glanced up and saw Jackson coming their way and scowled. "I hate to ditch you but I'd rather not be around him."

"Yeah, that's fine. I get it. I'll see you later?"

Y/n nodded. "Definitely. I'm glad you liked your present." They shared one more smile and a quick hug before Y/n got up to walk away, unfortunately having to walk past Jackson. She stopped in her tracks just as he passed and she glanced back at him. A faint scent of decay clung to him and she's just now noticing how awful he looks. She frowns, almost wanting to ask if he was alright. After a moment she ultimately decides to leave it, he wouldn't appreciate any concern she would have anyway.

...

Y/n is already sitting in Coach's class when Scott and Stiles come in, the last few students taking their seats as the bell rings. "Let's go. Sit, sit, sit, sit. We got a lot to cover today. Let's go. Quicker." Coach coaxes the students.

Scott sits next to Y/n and Stiles goes to sit behind her until Scott stops him. "Hey, Stiles, sit behind me, dude." Stiles scrambles to take the seat yet Allison beats him to it making him bashfully retreat, giving Scott a helpless look. Stiles settles down behind Y/n and they are forced to listen to Scott's awkward conversation.

"Hey." Allison greets Scott.

"Hey."

"I haven't seen you all day."

"Uh, yeah. I've been, uh, super busy."

"When are you gonna get your phone fixed? I feel like I'm totally disconnected from you."

"Uh, soon. Real soon."

"I changed lab partners, by the way."

"Oh. To who?"

"To you, dummy."

"Me? I mean, are you sure?"

"Yeah. This way I have an excuse to bring you home and study."

"Oh."

"You don't mind, do you?"

"I just- I don't want to bring your grade down."

"Well, I mean, maybe I can bring your grade up. Come to my place tonight. 8:30?"

"Tonight?"

"8:30."

Coach slams a book down on his desk. "Let's settle down. Let's start with a quick summary of last night's reading." A few students put their hands up. "Greenberg, put your hand down. Everybody knows you did the reading. How about, uh..." He walks around his desk. "McCall."

"What?" Scott looks up at Coach.

"The reading."

"Last night's reading?"

"How about, uh, the reading of the Gettysburg Address?"

"What?" Scott asks, confused.

"That's sarcasm. You familiar with the term 'sarcasm,' McCall?"

He nods and glances at Y/n and Stiles. "Very." Stiles smiles and Y/n smirks, the two discretely high-fiving.

"Did you do the reading or not?"

"Um... l-I think I forgot."

"Nice work, McCall. It's not like you're not averaging a D in this class. Come on, buddy. You know I can't keep you on the team if you have a D." Scott glances down and nods. "How about you summarize, uh, the previous night's reading? No?" Stiles looks at Coach's phone to check Scott's heart rate. "How about the, uh, the night before that? How about you summarize anything you've ever read... In your entire life?" Coach's voice rises along with Scott's heart rate.

Y/n grits her teeth as Coach rants. She folds her arms, her fingers digging into the flesh. If she were a wolf she would be shifting right now. Coach was normally cool but today was obviously not a good day especially with Scott failing and his position in lacrosse becoming shaky. That didn't mean what Coach was doing was right though. Unfortunately there's nothing she could do to help. She slumps down as far as she can in her seat and closes her eyes.

"I- I, uh-" Scott tries to think.

"No? A blog? How about, uh, how about, uh, the back of a cereal box? No? How about the adults only warning from your favorite website you visit every night? Anything?" When Scott can't respond, Coach continues. "Thank you, McCall, thank you." He bangs on his desk. "Thank you, McCall! Thank you for extinguishing any last flicker of hope I have for your generation. You just blew it for everybody. Thanks. Next practice you can start with suicide runs. Unless that's too much reading." The phone was doing its rapid beeps until it suddenly started going down. Stiles looked over to see Allison holding Scott's hand under the desk, the gesture calming him down. "All right. Everybody else, settle down."

Stiles get's Y/n's attention and nods his head towards the couple. She sees their hands and smiles.

...

Scott goes through a door with his friends following as they walk down the halls.

"It's her." Stiles blurts.

"What do you mean?" Scott asks.

"It's Allison." Y/n clarifies.

"Remember what you told me about the night of the full moon? You were thinking about her, right? About protecting her." Stiles questions.

"Okay." Scott nods.

"Remember the night of the first lacrosse game? You said you could hear her voice out on the field." Y/n gives another example.

"Yeah, I did."

"So that's what brought you back so you could score." Stiles explains. "And then after the game in the locker room, you didn't kill her. At least not like how you were trying to kill us." Scott looks at Stiles. "She brings you back, is what we're saying."

"No, no, no, but it's not always true, because literally every time I'm kissing her or- or touching her."

"No, that's not the same. When you're doing that, you're just another hormonal teenager thinking about sex, you know?" Scott gets a smirk on his face. "You're thinking about sex right now, aren't you?"

Scott nods a bit. "Yeah. Sorry."

Y/n rolls her eyes with a head shake and a sigh. "Boys." She mutters as Stiles continues.

"That's fine. Look, back in the classroom when she was holding your hand, that was different, okay? I don't think she makes you weak. I- I think she actually gives you control. She's kind of like an anchor."

Y/n's eyes widen with a small gasp. "An anchor! Stiles, you genius!" She grabs his arms, giving him a slight shake and an excited smile before she seemed to catch herself and let him go. "I was trying to remember that word all day." She covered up. Before anyone could question it she turned to Scott. "She's your anchor."

"You mean because I love her." Scott says.

"Exactly." Stiles agrees, rubbing at his arm from Y/n's slightly too strong grip.

Scott pauses in his walking as he realizes what he had said. "Did I just say that?"

"Yes, you just said that." Y/n smirks.

Scott smiles. "I love her."

"That's great. Now, moving on-" Stiles is cut off.

"No, no, no, really. I think I'm totally in love with her."

"And that's beautiful. Now, before you go off and write a sonnet, can we figure this out, please? Because you obviously can't be around her all the time."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Scott nods. "Sorry. So what do I do?"

Stiles sighs. "I don't know. Yet." Stiles spins in a slow circle as he thinks and once he faces them again he looks like he's got something.

"You're getting an idea, aren't you?" Y/n observed.

"Yeah."

"Is the idea gonna get me in trouble?" Scott asks.

"Maybe."

"Is this idea gonna cause me physical pain?"

"Yeah, definitely. Come on."

Stiles led them to the parking lot near a truck and four tougher looking guys. "What are we doing?" Scott asked.

"You'll see, hold on." Stiles stopped them near the truck. "Okay. Stand right there. Y/n stay with me." He directs.

"Okay." She said unsure, standing next to him in front of Scott.

"Do you have your keys?" He asked Scott who pulled his keys out. "Perfect. Hold 'em up like so." He positions Scott's hand to where he's holding up a key in plain view. "Just like that. Now, whatever happens, just think about Allison. Try to find her voice like you did at the game. Got it?" Scott nods. "Okay. Just... Keep holding it right there. Y/n, come with me." She follows as told and sees him casually pull out his own keys.

"What..." She whispers shocked as he keyed the truck. He moved to the sidewalk, pulling Y/n along, and casually stood there. For good measure he put his arm over her shoulders before he really put his plan in action.

"Hey, hey, hey, dude!" He yelled towards Scott. "What do you think you're doing to that truck, bro?" He glanced at the guys who were now looking at them because of the yelling.

"Oh, no." Y/n muttered.

"What the hell?" One of the guys yelled, spotting Scott holding up the key. Scott flounders and hastily puts the key away, but the damage is already done. Scott gets decked.

"Ow! My God. Wow." Stiles winces. Scott gets back up and rushes into the guy only to get kneed in the face and making him go down again. He gets dragged back to the guys and they all start wailing on him. Stiles checks the phone as Scott's heart rate rises again. "Ah, come on, stay calm. Stay calm."

"Oh, geez." Y/n groaned. "Was this really necessary?" She glanced at Stiles.

He clicks his tongue. "Uh, yeah, totally. Oh that's not okay." He comments again.

Y/n furrows her brows as she looks at Scott. "Find Allison, Scott. Find her voice." She whispers so he could hear her. He seems to listen as a moment later he starts to calm when Mr. Harris suddenly arrives to stop the beating.

"Stop! Hey, stop it right now." The guys run as Mr. Harris comes closer. "What do you idiots think you're doing?" He looks down at Scott. Scott props himself up and Stiles holds the phone up for him to see, a grin on his face as it shows a calm heart rate.

The trio now sit in Mr. Harris's classroom having got detention for the stunt outside. Y/n sits at the table in front of Scott and Stiles. She boredly has her elbow propped on the table with her chin on her hand. She's pretty sure she's supposed to be doing some type of homework while she waits to be released, but she just can't help not really listening to Mr. Harris sometimes, this being one of those times. There's just something about the teacher that really gets on her nerves. Probably because he's an asshat.

"Excuse me, sir?" Scott calls Mr. Harris politely and he looks up. "Uh, I know it's detention and all, but, uh, we're supposed to be at work," he gestures to himself and Y/n, "and I don't want to get fired." Mr. Harris just gives him a small smile and looks back down at his papers. Scott sighs then looks at Stiles. "You knew I would heal."

"Yep." Stiles nods.

"So you did that to help me learn?"

"Yep."

"But partially to punish me."

"Yeah. Well, that one's obvious."

"Dude, you're one of my best friends, and I can't have you being angry with me."

"I'm not angry anymore." He's quiet for a moment. "Look, you have something, Scott. Okay? Whether you want it or not, you can do things that nobody else can do. So that means you don't have a choice anymore. It means you have to do something."

They look at each other. "I know. And I will."

"All right, all three of you, out of here." Harris suddenly announced.

They all perk up. "Thank you."

"Wait." Y/n narrows her eyes. "Really? They fix their friendship and exactly now is when you decide to let us go?"

"You can always stay a few more hours if you so desperately want to, Ms. L/n."

Y/n holds up her hands in mock surrender. "No, thank you." She gathered her stuff and left with her friends.

...

Alan works in the back room of the clinic when he hears the front door. Thinking it's Y/n and Scott he starts talking to them. "Scott, I kind of expect something like this from Y/n, but you're late again. I hope this isn't getting to be a habit." He looks towards the door but instead of the teens he sees Derek Hale. "Can I help you?"

"Hope so." Derek responds. "I want to know about the animal you found with the spiral on its side?"

"Excuse me? What animal?"

"Three months ago. The deer. You remember this?" He unfolds a paper he had found on his car and shows it to the vet. It's a picture of a deer with a spiral carved into its side, exactly like he had just said.

"Oh, yes." He nods. "It's just a deer. And I didn't find it. They called me because they wanted to know if I'd ever seen anything like it."

"What'd you tell 'em?"

"I told them no."

Derek is quiet as he puts the paper away and takes a few steps closer. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Alan takes a few steps back and puts the metal table between them.

"The sound of your heartbeat rising." They now stand across from each other, the only thing separating them is the table.

"Excuse me?"

"It's the sound of you lying." The table does nothing to help as Derek reaches over and pulls Alan over.

Alan blinks his eyes open and finds himself in a chair. A cut is on his cheek and his hands are bound behind him. "Oh, God." He pulls on the tape around his wrists and looks around.

"Are you protecting someone?" Derek asks and Alan looks over his shoulder at him.

"All right. The key to the drug locker is in my pocket."

"I don't want drugs. I want to know why you're lying." He gets up close behind Alan to intimidate him.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Derek spins him around in the chair and lifts him and the chair up in the air. "What are you doing to me? What do you want?"

"I want to know who you are or who you're protecting."

"What the hell are you doing?!" Y/n yells, her and Scott having finally arrived.

Alan looks over at them. "Y/n, Scott, get out of here!" Derek sets him down and then decks him, knocking him out.

"Stop! Stop!" Scott yells as they rush over.

Y/n kneels in front of Alan, lightly touching his cheek under the cut, then she glares at Derek. "What is wrong with you?"

"Look, when he's conscious, he can stop himself from healing, but unconscious, he can't." Derek explains to them.

"Are you out of your mind? What are you talking about?" Scott asks.

"You want to know what the spiral means, Scott? It's our sign for a vendetta, for revenge. It means he won't stop killing until he's satisfied."

"You think he's the Alpha?" Y/n asks bewildered. "He's not. I mean, I would know if I was living with a damn werewolf for several freaking years."

"We're about to find out." He goes to swipe at Alan with his claws but Scott stops him, now fully shifted. He growls at Derek and shoves his arm away.

Scott looks at his hand and breathes, calming down and shifting back while glaring at Derek. "Hit him again, and then you'll see me get angry."

"If he hits him again he won't see tomorrow's sunrise." Y/n threatens. Derek calms down and she gets a cotton ball to clean the cut on Alan's cheek. She gently dabs at the spot and frowns at her unconscious guardian.

"Do you have a plan?" Derek asks Scott.

"Just give me an hour."

"Then what?"

"Meet us at the school. In the parking lot." Derek doesn't say anything and just walks away. Y/n huffs angrily and throws the cotton ball away.

...

Stiles pulls into the dark parking lot of the highschool, a fuming Y/n in the backseat. They all get out and stand at the back of the Jeep. "This is a terrible idea." Stiles says.

"Yeah, I know." Scott agrees.

"But we're still gonna do it?"

"Can you think of something better?"

"Well, personally I'm a fan of ignoring a problem until eventually it just goes away."

"Just make sure we can get inside." Stiles opens the back of the Jeep to get the bolt cutters.

"I can always just shove wolfsbane down Derek's throat and we wouldn't have to do anything at all." Y/n suggests.

"No." Scott shoots her down and she rolls her eyes just as Derek pulls up. "He's here."

"Where is he?" Y/n asks as soon as Derek gets out of his car.

"He's in the back." Y/n looks through the windows and spots Alan still knocked out in Derek's backseat with tape over his mouth.

"Oh, well, he looks comfortable." Stiles says.

"If there is even one more scratch on him-" Y/n points a finger at Derek.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. No more sunrise." Derek rolls his eyes. Scott pulls Y/n away from Derek and Stiles follows as they head for the school. "Wait. Hey. What are you doing?"

"You said I was linked with the Alpha, I'm gonna see if you're right." Scott leads the way as they make their way into the school and towards the office.

"Okay, one question. What are you gonna do if the Alpha doesn't show up?" Stiles asks as he sets up the PA system.

"I don't know." Scott admits.

"And what are you gonna do if he does show up?"

"I don't know."

"Good plan." Stiles nods.

"All right. You said that a wolf howls to signal his position to the rest of the pack, right?" Scott looks at Y/n. She nods.

"But if you bring him here, does that make you part of his pack?" Stiles asks.

"I hope not."

"I doubt it will." Y/n says.

"I hope not, too." Stiles finishes setting up and nods to Scott. "All right. All you." He sits the microphone in front of Scott. He clears his throat, takes a deep breath, presses the button and... Howls?

"Was that okay?" Scott asks once he's done making ears bleed. "I mean, that was a howl, right?"

"l- yeah, technically." Stiles tries.

"It was awful." Y/n shakes her head.

"Well, what did it sound like to you?" Scott asks.

"Like a cat being choked to death, Scott."

"It sounded like a million nails scratching against a mile long black board." Y/n grimaces.

"What do I do? How am I supposed to do this?"

"Hey, hey." Stiles goes around to stand behind Scott and grip his shoulders encouragingly. "Listen to me. You're calling the Alpha. All right? Be a man. Be a werewolf, not a teen wolf. Be a werewolf." Scott nods and Stiles backs up. Scott takes a deep breath, a determined look on his face. His eyes glow, he presses the button and HOWLS.

"I'm gonna kill all three of you." Derek threatens the teens when they get back outside. "What the hell was that? What are you trying to do, attract the entire state to the school?"

"Sorry. I didn't know it would be that loud." Scott apologized.

"Yeah, it was loud. And it was awesome." Stiles said the last word in a sing-song voice. Y/n snorted a laugh at him.

"Shut up."

"Don't be such a sour wolf."

Y/n smiles at the joke and her eyes wander over to Derek's car. The smile fades when she notices the lack of a man in the backseat. "Where's Alan?"

"What?" Derek looks back and finds that Alan is indeed missing, the door left open. "I didn't do anything." He looks back at her. A sudden growl rips through the air and Derek coughs up blood. He gets lifted in the air by the Alpha with his claws in Derek's back.

"Shit! Go, go, go!" Y/n shoves the boys into gear and they sprint to the school. They burst through the doors and quickly close them, hiding under the windows.

Ch.07

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canarycolemine · 1 year ago

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Death and the Promises He Made

Chapter 2 (finally omg)

Pairing: Papa Emeritus II x Female Reader

Warnings: MDNI, mentions of abuse, drug use, and forced prostitution

Tag List: @sirianisrock (let me know if you’d like to be added 💖)

I didn’t look towards Eddie as the skull faced man took my hand, leading me out of the bar. I knew, I fucking knew he had a smirk on his face. Just another way he could destroy me - break my boundaries. Always, I stayed in the lion's den he enslaved me in, but he gave me the courtesy to never allow the lions to drag my body away from the familiar cruelty. This, however, was a new cruelty.

Quite frankly, I didn’t care if this harsh looking man I followed would kill me. He looked like he could. Guiding me away, the unfamiliar man towered over my body, as did the strangely masked men. Physically, he could overpower me, but now, a mental overpowering was unfolding, too.

But I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, why this man held my hand so gently, as if it was made of glass. The patrons cat called as I left, but the man shot severe looks at them, which quieted them. I liked the power he had over them, his evil looks; what I could only hope is that he wouldn’t have cruelty with me, too.

As we neared the double doors of the bar, past the blue neon beer signs and posters of naked women, he let my hand go and opened the door for me. His hands were gloved; to his benefit, no human hand should ever touch those dirty bar doors. Still, holding the door open for me, a gentlemanly gesture, was something very rare for me these days.

The desert winter air struck me harder than I imagined. The night was darker, more solid than it usually was when I typically left the bar - the usual lighting of early morning, making the mountains on the east side of this town more visible than in the solid night. But I couldn’t see the mountains tonight. I let out a cold sigh, seeing my breath mist as I breathed out.

The man slipped his hand on the small of my back to guide me towards his car, the other hand gesturing towards them. Instinctively, I recoiled from his touch. I just hated being touched and the violence that would so often follow.

He withdrew his hand, following my reaction. I didn’t think too much of it.

There were so many large black vans, looking awfully expensive compared to the bikes and trucks that typically filled the parking lot. This legion looked so out of place, so distinguished, too much for this place.

I shivered again, not quite sure if it was the cold or withdrawal hitting me.

When we neared his car, I could see one of those masked men in the driver’s seat through the tinted windows. The car was already running, exhaust fumes pillowing behind. He opened the back door for me, gesturing me to enter. Instantly, the warmth of the car’s heating soothed me.

The interior of the car was black, and the scent was like it was brand new - rich leather, real leather and very, very clean.

I scooted myself across the back seat’s bench, making room for the man to enter behind me. Silently, I buckled myself in, putting my purse at my feet.

“Buenosera, ghoul, we’ll retire for the evening.” He instructed the masked driver.

Ghoul? Damn, and I thought Eddie treated his employees rough.

“Si, Papa.” A husky, deep voice replied. The man sitting in the driver’s seat was stoic, as if he were a vessel, only able to move once commanded.

Papa? Too often, “daddy” was the name my patrons preferred; it was patriarchal and perverse. It was all the same to me. Any other night, I would have cringed at calling him that, but the deep voiced driver said ‘Papa’ like it was some sort of title. Someone he revered.

Regardless of any curiosity, I couldn’t help the cringe I made over the name.

“Something wrong, signora?” The man called Papa asked, observing my face.

“Oh, um, no.” I started, realizing I needed to silence the emotions I so often wore on my face. I did have a job to do, I suppose. “Just, I usually call my, uh, clients, daddy or something. Papa’s just a new one. Do you want me to call you that?”

“Ah. No, no. It’s a title, so to say.” He clarified. “You do not need to call me ‘Papa,’ the driver ghoul must call me Papa - I’ll send him back to hell if he doesn't use the name.” He playfully threatened.

I smirked, doubting him, but entertaining him. The way he said it, something about his stern face. He overcompensated his mean visage with these remarks, like he wanted to see me laugh, wanted to make me comfortable. It was nice.

I cast one look at the dinghy bar as we departed the parking lot. How cruel it really all was, and how lost I got along the way. This ugly place, and the wicked men it held. It destroyed the beauty that I held. It didn’t matter how I looked, I had simply become a ghost. Here I was now, being driven away from the bar, as if it was some sort of strong hold, a safe place. I shouldn’t be afraid, I shouldn’t miss this place. But, it was familiar.

Perhaps it was just the familiarity of captivity.

The glow of the bar’s halogen lights faded, as we drove further down the desert road. It was so novel, to be afraid of leaving the place that had destroyed me. I knew what to expect, but I hated it all. Hated what had become of my shit life. How I was so tired of being strong, hoping to escape from this miserable trailer park life, then so weak from abuse, and then, worst, nothing at all.

A sniffle I didn’t mean to take captured the man’s attention. In my peripheral vision, I saw his internal debate to acknowledge my emotions or not. I half hoped he wouldn’t, but the unsettling comfort he made me feel almost prompted something. Trust, maybe.

“Would you like us to drive you home, little one? We don’t have to return to the hotel.” He broke the silence.

“No, it’s fine.” I lied. “I’ll get over it. Sorry, I know some people don’t like sniffling.”

“You do not have to lie to me,” he cut through, “I am not going to hurt you. I promise.”

A promise.

Somehow, that broke me. I couldn’t control the sobs that I wracked suddenly. My breath could hardly keep up as my body crumpled in on itself. I felt his hand on my shoulder. It was as if he didn’t dare move it down my body.

Maybe I could blame my emotions on withdrawal, but I hadn’t felt emotions this strongly for so long. I couldn’t remember when I could feel. Just feel.

Why was I so affected by his words? Half of my brain, the last reasonable one, said that he’s just like everyone who’s said that before. They want you to trust them, make you feel comfortable, give you hope that he would make everything better - but always. Always. He left you. He’ll take your money, the last of your booze, and another piece of your soul.

God damn it. There was another half of my brain, the part that still wanted to be human. Maybe it’ll be different this time. He won’t me, and things will change. I could be free again. He could take me away from this life. Maybe I can get a piece of my soul back.

The battle raged in my brain, almost suspending my body in the moment.

A small squeeze he gave. Reassuring. Grounding.

“What can I do for you, dear, to make you feel better?”

“Can you just,” another sniffle, surely I looked a mess, “can you just hold me?”

“Like a hug?”

“Like a hug.”

“Of course, dear.” He waited for me to move closer to him. Only after I was settled did he wrap his arms around me. Almost paternal, but very safe, I felt steadied in his arms. Up close, through the tears, his suit’s thread was rich - a small paisley detail throughout the fabric. Each cut, immaculately tailored to his figure and not a thread out of place. His cologne was equally luxurious - smokey, subtle, masculine. Almost, almost, I felt trust. I could almost feel comforted.

I didn’t know anything about him, not even his name. And, I just asked him for a fucking hug. God, I felt pathetic.

“I’m sorry, sir, but could you not call me the pet names?” I probed, worried the comfort might end. But, so far, he hadn’t given me any indication that I couldn’t speak my peace.

“Certainly.” He said so solidly. “I will need your name though, if I may have it.”

“You can call me Eden.” It wasn’t my name, but I always liked it. I really didn’t use my real name anymore. I could pretend with him, as a last safeguard.

“Eden? That’s a lovely name.” The name felt safe in his voice.

“Thanks,” I said. “What would you like me to call you?”

“I have several names, little Eden, you can choose. Some call me Papa, others say Secondo, and those who are closest to me call me Lorzeno. But, eh, you could also use Mr. E.”

“Mystery?” I nearly cringed.

He chuckled at the miscommunication. “No, no, Mr. E. Emeritus is my surname.”

A pause. The thought came into my mind - emeritus. Before I had this life, I was a good Catholic girl. Emeritus was commonly used for a retired pope. I may have lost some of my reasoning, as well as my faith, but something about this man told me wasn’t Catholic.

Frankly, I didn’t have a prayer either way. At worst, he was going to kill me, I so thoroughly believed. I didn’t really give a fuck.

“I’ll call you Secondo. Sounds Italian.”

“Yes, my name means the second. I am the second eldest of my brothers.”

“Awfully creative parents you had,” I joked.

This brought some level of bemusement to the man, a small chuckle fell out. He patted my head, letting his gloves hand linger in my hair for a little while longer. It felt nice.

As cruel as prostitution was, the rushed intimacy between myself and a stranger broke down any boundaries or reservations about physical touch. Disgusting me often, but in his arms, just right now, the touch was almost welcome.

As if reading my mind, he said so, so softly. “Rest now, little Eden. I will awaken you once we arrive.”

So Eden I was.

No trust I could have for this man, who looked like nothing but death. Maybe that’s why it was so natural to fall asleep next to him - easily, faintly, quietly, I drifted to the lightest state of sleep. Like death, so natural and comfortable.

Time stood still, as it often does in between consciousness and unconsciousness. But I drifted, feeling as safer than I had ever been in that bar. Although unfamiliar, I followed him as he held me steady.

#papa emeritus secondo #papa emeritus ii x reader #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus x original female character #papa emeritus ii fic #secondo x reader #secondo #secondo fic #we all need to be protected by the big guy

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ndewdiver02 · 1 year ago

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I worked at a zoo that had panthers (or as we called them Mountain Lions) for several years before I graduated high school. When I started we had two older cats, a male and a female. And unfortunately eventually time caught up with them.

Around that time we took in two cubs that had been found abandoned by their mother and rehabilitated in Idaho. The process was interesting from the start, we had to make major upgrades to the enclosure because our original pair had been declawed at the quote-unquote “zoo” that they had been rescued from. Then they were flown across the country in large carriers accompanied by members of the zoo staff, in the cabin of the private jet of one of our zoos donors.

They are absolutely incredible animals. They can leap up to 35 feet forward in a single bound, they are so incredibly stealthy, and they’re kinda terrifying. Not long after I started working there I went back behind their enclosure while performing some menial but necessary task that escapes me now. We walked down the rear fence of their enclosure and that cat followed us the entire way. And if hadn’t watched her do it I never would have known she was there. A 100 pound plus apex predator and she was silent. There was no malice, mostly just curiosity. But it was the first of a few encounters I’ve had in my work where I have come face to face with an animal and have realized that that animal could decided to kill and eat me and there would not be a thing I could do about it.

As far as I am aware our two cougars are still living happy and healthy lives doing the extremely important work of being an ambassador not just for their own species but for all those that share their ecosystem. As fate would have it I ran across a video taken in Idaho of the two of them shortly before their rescue by Idaho Fish and Game, I will be sure to post it here if I ever find it!

#wildlife #big cats #mountains lion #puma #whyaretheresomanynamesforonecat?#public education

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girl8890 · 2 years ago

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JM | The Cave Dweller

word count: 8.9k

Summary: It started out as a curiosity, then you met a being that took up your interest altogether. You’ve always been the type of person to comfort those who are lonely, you just didn’t expect your new found friend to be a cave monster. A monster that teaches you tricks of magic, and you eventually teach him your own dirty tricks.

Pairing: Cave Monster!Jimin x Human!Reader

Genre: supernatural!au, magic!au, curse!au, smut, some fluff

Rating: 18+

Warnings: lonely Jimin, mean Jimin (at first), curious reader, to curious for her own good, touch starved Jimin, curses, mutual growth of feelings, first kiss, past masturbation mentioned, first hand job, reader basically teaches Jimin about sex, blow jobs, monster Jimin turns into a mess, reader is such a minx!

A/N: I don’t know if it’s just because Halloween is coming, but all my fic ideas have been about monsters. I’m kinda liking it ,though, so we’re gonna stick with it LOL. ALSO! Major PSA to everyone reading… do not do this! Do not go exploring unknown caves, especially alone, and on top of that places that have “do not enter” signs on it. This is all fiction, and you will not find a sexy goblin Jimin inside.

。・°°・°°・。。・°°・°°・。。・°°・°°・。

“Curiosity killed the cat, you know,” Your anxious friend Hoseok says through the phone.

You roll your eyes even though he can’t see you through the cellular device that’s currently pressed against your ear by your shoulder. Shoving the rest of your hiking gear into your bag and zipping it closed.

“Yeah, but satisfaction brought it back.” You smile at your own witty come back, and you hear Hoseok chuckle through the phone, although it doesn’t sound as cheerful as he usually sounds.

“That was a good one, but seriously Y/n. There’s ‘do not enter’ signs there for a reason.” You throw your backpack over your shoulder, somehow keeping the phone near your ear as you do so. Walking out the door to set out for your hike that you and Hoseok are currently arguing about.

You’re a pretty advocate hiker, but you’ve always felt the extra thrill going through caves. Something about the dark surroundings gets your adrenaline pumping, and just as you said to your friend through the phone, any “haunted” caves or houses always ended up as empty as the rumor itself.

Those places always have the stupidest of backstories too. How someone was killed in 1802 and now haunts the grounds, or how there’s a mass grave of murder victims from the 70s.

The cave you decided to travel to this time, it’s rumors were a little different. Saying how there’s a monster cave dweller that kills and eats anyone that enters his home.

Yeah… I call bullshit!

“It’s all bullshit, Hoseok. I’ve never visited a quote on quote ‘haunted’ cave that was actually haunted,” You say to your friend through the phone, unbelieving all the stories unlike your friend.

“But what about all the sightings?”

You take the phone away from your ear, and look up to the sky to frantically mouth the words oh my god. You could tell Hoseok a witch lived underneath our old high school, and he would believe you even though he went there for four straight years. Hoseok was too easy to fool for his own good, but he was also one of your closest friends. Not many people liked you very much, and that has a lot to do with your adventures personality.

While most people your age went to malls and bars on a Friday night, you set up a whole game plan to hike up a mountain and find the cave that has so many people in the town near by spooked. All because someone allegedly “saw something move” in the cave for 30 feet away. Besides being spooked, though, you set up a whole travel schedule for the summer surrounding this one trip.

“Dude, chill out. If you’re talking about the sighting from over a month ago, I almost promise you that guy was drunk. Even if, it was probably just a mountain lion.”

“A mountain lion! That’s even worse!”

You can’t help but laugh this time. Chuckling into the phone, but still keeping your eyes ahead of you, so you don’t accidentally trip and fall on some rock.

“I’ll be fine, Hoseok. I’ll even keep you on the phone with me the entire-“

Beep. Beep.

And… your phone lost signal. Figures. It’s then you realize you’ve traveled way farther up your path then you thought you did. Long legs and all, I guess.

You shrug to yourself, and pocket your phone. Even though you know your friend is probably freaking out right now that your phone call just dropped, you know you’ll be okay. You’ve been hiking and cave exploring many times by yourself. You tried to convince him to come with you, after all, but just like every other time you asked Hoseok to join you, he gave you the same excuse.

Girlfriend.

You’re starting to think this girlfriend is fake because you’ve never even met the girl. She also only pops up in his plans when you ask him to go exploring with you. Whatever. Not something you want to think about while you’re in this peaceful wilderness.

You brush your hand across a bush as you continue your path up the steep mountain. Taking in the beautiful surroundings, and filling your lungs with the fresh air. You’ve always love the outdoors. Ever since you were little and your parents brought you camping for the first time. It wasn’t until you turned twelve when your dad brought you on one of your hiking trails, and then you were hocked on traveling every piece of land you could.

Currently, your in Lewisburg, Pennsylvania. You traveled all this way to visit the cave that caught the attention of some gullible people on Twitter - your friend included - and now you’re here to explore. Unlike most people that explore these types of things, your not here to hunt monsters or even debunk the rumor. Truthfully, you just love exploring new places. And although it’s claimed to be haunted, so much so that they plastered ‘do not enter’ signs all over the entrance, you still found the need in your heart to go and explore it.

By the time you got to the cave itself, you drank half a bottle of water and the sun was nearly set. You having to rely on your flashlight for light now.

I know what your thinking. What is a girl like me doing alone in the woods? Isn’t that the start to like every horror story ever?! Well, yes, but you’ve been to enough places in the past 8 years to survive the wilderness. Especially a wilderness that you saw a flowing stream of fresh water a mile back down the mountain.

You point the flashlight inside the cave, and the first thing you see is the ‘do not enter’ sign. You roll your eyes at it, hoist your backpack higher up your back, then enter the cave.

Even with all its rumors, no one ever said how beautiful the cave was. You actually gasped when you realized your flashlight lit up the entire cave. Blue crystals littering the caves surface, and making it look like everything around you is sparkling.

You’re in awe of it all. So in awe, that when a rock falls from behind you, it makes you jump in surprise. You turn around, seeing nothing but the curved end of the cave that’s in the direction of the entrance. You shrug your shoulders, playing it off as just a loose rock, then travel further into the cave.

Everything is still sparkling around you. Even though your above a half a mile deep into the cave now, it’s like your still outside. The flashlight helping tremendously.

Your flashlight starts to flicker, though, and you think it’s time to bring out your spare, but after hitting it a few times with your hand it flashes clearly again. When you point it back at the wall, you see something curious on it. You lean in close to the wall of the cave, seeing there’s some scratch marks there and you think at first it’s writing. You run your fingers over the sharp lines, and realize it is, in fact, scratch marks.

That knowledge makes you shiver, but you play it off as just a wild animal. It’s then, while you’re still looking at the scratches on the wall, that you hear movement from behind you. You spin your entire body around toward the direction of the sound, already pulling out your knife in your backpacks outer pocket.

When you see nothing there, you call out, “Who’s there?”

But no one answers, but the echo of your own voice. And out of all times, your flash light starts to flicker again. It flickers and flickers, and at the last flicker you see some black hair peaking out from behind one of the rocks before the flashlight completely gives out. You rush to get out your spare flashlight, your nerves taking over and making you take it out at lightening speed to the point you drop the other one somewhere on the ground.

You press the on button of your new flashlight, and point it at the rock where you swore you saw something behind it. But when you look over at the rock, nothings there. “Huh,” You say to yourself. “I must be losing my mind.”

…

“Mind?”

You scream bloody fucking murder when a thing right next to you speaks. You jump away from it, going towards the other side of the cave to get as far away from it as possible. You point the light at the thing, and you see a creature wearing all black, with black hair to match. It covers its face with its arm, not liking you pointing the light at it, then hisses in your direction. It’s then you see the being has sharp teeth too, with long pointed nails to match.

“Turn that light off!” It demands of you.

“Nah, I’m good,” You say, and then you book it. You run like hell in the direction you came. You get about ten feet away from where you just were before you fall flat on your face. This isn’t one of those horror movie moments where the girl trips on air, though. Something fucking pushes you.

You spin around on the ground, pulling out your knife from your pack and point it at the creature. It’s standing on its legs now, hunched over a bit, above you. It isn’t touching you, but it’s staring down at you like you’re the one that’s scared him half to death.

“D-don’t leave… Please.”

You falter at his words. Actually scrunching your eyebrows together in confusion when the creatures begging hits your ears. Did he just say, please?

“I-I’ve been alone for so long. Please don’t leave me alone again.” The creature then drops too it’s knees, and you blink at it in confusion. He really is begging you to stay.

You swallow past the lump in your throat, still pointing your knife and flash light in it’s direction. The creature blinks up at you from his spot on the ground about a foot away from you, and blinks at the harsh light. He hisses at you again, making you crawl backwards a step.

“N-no! That thing…” It points at your flashlight with one long nail. You look at your flashlight, then back at the cave dweller. You point it away from it’s face, but not to far enough away that you can’t see it in front of you. The sparkles are still around the cave, but that’s only helping so much especially when your currently fearing for your life.

The creature breathes a sigh of relief, and something you didn’t expect crosses it’s face…. It smiles…. Well, he smiles. Now that you have a few seconds to take in his appearance, you know, for a fact, that it is a he. A very dark, sharp toothed, crazy looking he, but still a he.

“I’m sensitive to light,” The cave dweller explains, almost embarrassed. You just nod your head, like this information and formal conversation isn’t the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to you.

“I see that,” You say because you have no idea what else to fricken say in this situation.

The cave dweller then plops on his butt, stretching his feet out in front of himself to the point your feet are almost touching, and continues to smile at you. A moment of silence stretches between you two, and when that moment ends, you’re back to reality. The initial shock of thinking you’re about to die going away.

You cough, awkwardly, then start to get up as you say, “Um… sorry to disturb you in your - home. But I should really get going.”

“What!” The guy jumps up, and you jump with him in surprise. Trying to be a little courteous and not point the light directly in his face again, but still pointing the knife in his direction.

“I-I have people waiting for me. Um… there probably looking for me now, so…” It was a lie, and not a very good one, but by the way the creature suddenly looks sad you can tell he bought it.

You start to walk away, not totally letting your back face him, and you’re stopped by the cave dweller again. “Will you come back tomorrow?”

Your eyes widen with his question. Truthfully, you would rather run as far away from this place as possible, but by the way this creature is giving you puppy dog eyes right now, you almost feel… bad for him?

You’ve always been a sucker for lonely people. Always wanting to comfort them in their time of need. You’ve been lonely all your life, since people claimed to dislike you before they really even got to know you. Thinking back about your earlier brushed off question, you remember that��s how you and Hoseok met. He was the lonely math nerd on the middle school bleachers, and you were the pumped up - equally as alone - band geek sitting next to him.

Sounds like the start to a bad country song, but that’s really how you two met. You both just being alone at the pep rally, and sitting next to each other because no one wanted to sit next to either of you. And that was the start to your beautiful friendship.

Anyway, back to the present. You look at the creatures eyes, and he reminds you of Hoesak in a weird way. The desperation for friendship is written all over the creatures face. Even though you really, really don’t want to make any promises to this weird creature, you blow out a gust of hot air and tell him, “Yes. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

The smile returns to the creature’s face, and even though his shape teeth make him look so menacing, there’s a innocence there. An innocence that your probably the first to see and recognize in him in a long time.

------

The next day, for whatever fucking reason that you can’t even come up with yourself, you go back to the cave. Not before getting an ear full through the phone by your friend first, but as always you ignore his warnings. You should really stop doing that now. Especially after his fears of the extreme were actually fucking accurate for once.

Oh, you got a few “I told you so’s” from him too. You weren’t scared or worried to tell Hoseok about what happened to you. The man believes in aliens and werewolf’s, so you didn’t think twice about him believing you. But after that first interaction with your new cave dweller friend, you might just believe in them too now.

You walk the same path you did yesterday inside the cave, but this time you watch your flashlight shake in your hand. No longer caring about how the cave sparkles when your light hits a crystal just right. Every step you take into the cave makes you stomach churn from nerves. Nothing was actually making you come back today, but you also couldn’t get the creature’s face out of your head. He also wasn’t that creepy looking when you thought back on it later on. At least not in the face. Take away the sharp teeth, and dark as night black voided eyes, you could even say he’s kinda cute.

You chuckle at your own thoughts when you make it to the area you were at yesterday when you met the creature. You spin around, looking for him, then you hit yourself in the head when you realize you did that. You shouldn't be looking for him. You only came back because you felt bad, not because you wanted to add “friend’s with a cave dweller” to your list of summer actives.

Only because you felt it was the right thing to do, and so you call out into the cave, “Hey! Anyone there?” No answer. “It's me from yesterday. I said I would come back, and I did!”

You wait another moment but nothing happens. Not even a movement of rock to make you understand where he is. Maybe you made up the occurrence with cave dweller. Maybe you hit your head on some rocks yesterday and dreamed the whole thing. Although, that wouldn’t explain how you got all the scratches on your legs from rolling around on the ground yesterday.

Either way, you start to turn around and walk back the way you came. Rendering this whole trip as a bust, and really in need to schedule an appointment with a counselor.

“Wait!” You hear the cave dweller screech from behind you, making you stop in your tracks and turn around. Just like yesterday, he's decked out in all black. But unlike yesterday, you find him out of breath and panting. Almost like he just jogged up a mountain to get here.

“Oh - wow - you’re actually real,” Is the first thing you say when you see him.

The creature looks up at you from his spot a few feet away, heaving out air as he holds himself up with his hand on his knees, confused by your statement. When he finally recovers from whatever made him so out of breathe, he straightens up. His knees are still slightly bent, and his back is slouched, but it’s weird seeing him stand up instead of hobbling on the ground like the creatures by in movies. But I guess this is different since it’s real fricken life, y/n!

“Why wouldn’t I exist?” He asks.

“I don’t know, maybe because you’re a cave monster.” You gasp at your own harsh words, and you feel even worse when you see him cave in on himself. Looking like you just wounded a puppy, instead of a creature that you see eat girls like you in the most gruesome ways in movies.

Again, real life, y/n. Real life.

“I’m so sorry. I-I don’t know why I said that.”

He recovers a little, but the sadness in his eyes doesn’t get past you.

“It's okay. I’ve been called worse.”

His way of making you feel better actually made you feel worse. You’re probably the first human that’s ever showed him any kindness in a long time. You should’t be shitting on him for something he can’t help. You try to recover the conversation by changing the subject, “Why were you out of breath before?”

He blinks a few times, then when he remembers how he came to you, he says, “Oh! I just woke up, so running to you was difficult.”

You raise a pointed eyebrow at him. “It's 11 pm.”

“Is it? I wouldn’t know. I-I can’t be touch sunlight, or any bright light for that matter.” He really drives his words home when he looks at the flashlight in your hand like it killed his entire family. This thing is really dramatic to, I guess.

But since you’re such a nice person, you place the flashlight on the ground, sitting next to it, and pointing it in the opposite direction of him. He smiles at your gesture, and takes a set in front of you, still keeping quite a lot of distance between the two of you.

“Why can’t you be in the light?”

His once brighter then life sharp teether smile fades, and once again you feel that gut churching feeling of guilt. Is there anything you can say in front of him without making him look like a wounded animal?

“It’s a long story... but basically, I got this witch mad, and she cursed me for life. Never to enjoy the sun again, and never to look like how I once did.”

“...Look like you once did?” You repeat back to him in question, and he nods his head.

“Yeah. I was human once.” Your eyes widen in surprise, and the creature grins. “I know, surprising, but it was a long... long time ago.”

You felt his sadness radiate to you. It was the most upsetting thing to hear that he only looked and lived like this because of a witch - Which by the way, witches are real. Who knew? His saddened expression, and the way he's looking at the ground makes you want to cuddle him up in your arms. Instead of doing something as weird as that, you become brave enough to place your hand on his shoulder. Feeling him jump in surprise as you do that. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

The creature looks back and forth between your hand and your face. You think it maybe making him uncomfortable, so you take your hand off his shoulder. As soon as you do, he grabs onto you wrist and yells, “No!” Both of your eyes become wide, but for completely different reasons. “I-I mean... please don’t. I haven’t been...”

He doesn’t continue what he was going to say, but you understand immediately. The poor kid has probably been touch starved since he was left here by that witch. No one brave enough to talk or even be close to him. That’s why, less hesitant then before, you reach your other hand out and place it on top of his that’s still holding your wrist. His eyes widen again, and lets go of your wrist. You take ahold of his hand with both of your hands, then kiss one of his fingers that don’t have a long nail attached to it. The creature shivers, and you smirk when you see his face heat up scarlet.

“What's your name, sweetie?” You ask as you massage his hand in your one hand, while the other one circled his wrist. You feel like the devil for what you’re doing, but after finding out he was once a human. he reminds you a lot of the types of guys you used to mess around with in high school. Ones that always sounded like-

“J-Jimin.”

Like that. Stuttering and cute as a button.

You smile when you hear him say his name, and you don’t miss the higher pitch of his voice either. “Hi, Jimin.” You don’t miss how he shivers when you say his name, either. “My name’s Y/n.”

-----

For the next week, you would visit Jimin every single day. You were only supposed to visit this trail for a week, and then move on to your next destination, but there was no way you were leaving him to go see some fountains in Canada.

You know it’s stupid, even Hoseok told you it was when you talked to him on the phone again three days ago, but you couldn’t help it! Jimin was really starting to grow on you especially every time you grazed his hand. How he would act like you flashed him your tits. It was just so cute!

He was falling for you hard, you could tell too. Ever since you visited him in the cave a week ago, he would be waiting in this spot everyday for you. Continuing to blush and act like the most innocent little monster you’ve ever met… well, the only monster you’ve ever met but who’s counting?

You’re not sure when you turned into such a little devil around him, either. Getting so excited every time he became a little mess around you. Whether it was when you started laughing so hard around with him that your breasts bounced, making him run silent and follow the movements with his eyes. Or when you hugged him for the first time, pressing your body to him and feeling his reaction through his tight leather pants. With both occurrences, you felt this evil smirk rise on your face while watching him squirm in front of you. Him not understanding his own feelings and making you want to tease him... or teach him.

Today was the closest you ever got. Come to find out, although a witch cursed him to live a lonely life, she gave him a few exciting perks. One perk being his ability to conjure up some magic.

While the walls were sparkling with your camping lamp your brought - the one you found in your pack and was better for Jimin to not be blinded by the light - he showed you his abilities. Him wanting to impress you, and wanting you to look at him in that special way you have been doing lately.

With a flick of his wrists and wiggle of his nails, three white glowing butterflies puffed out of thin air. Your were in awe of the mystical butterflies you watched fly around the cave. One of them landing on your nose for a second and making you giggle.

Sadly, this little trick only lasted a few moments. The butterflies soon puffing into thin air, and leaving only your camping lamp as light.

“Is that how you’re able to see around the cave?” You ask Jimin, still staring at the place in the air the butterflies just disappeared from.

“Yeah… I guess the witch realized me being able to see in the dark was needed somehow.”

You look over at Jimin, watching his once cheerful face that was watching you swoon at his magic flip upside down into a upsetting frown. Your own once smiling face turning downwards at the sight. So, you do what you always did when the witch was brought up - you give your little touched starved monster some lovings. Grasping his hand gently, and watching a tremor course through his body when your soft skin touch’s his rougher palm.

You smile apologetically at him, feeling bad about his situation that he can’t find a way out of. You asked him once if there was a way to reverse the curse that the witch casted on him, but he said he didn’t know any. The witch being someone he barely knew at the time even, and the only reason she cursed him was out of secret jealousy. You guess the witch had a crush on Jimin all those years ago, and when Jimin started maturing and getting closer to girls, instead of doing the mature thing and trying to talk to him, the young witch cursed him to a life of loneliness.

One thing you got out of that story: witches were indeed bitches. It’s been almost 10 years since that happened to him, and ever since then Jimin has been alone in this cave. That thought drove you to touch him further and cuddle up next to him, wanting to make the cave dweller feel loved somehow. You feel him shiver against you when your nose touches his neck as you lean on his shoulder. The reddening of the balls of his cheeks not passing by you.

You smirk, feeling mischievous as you always do when you see the cave dweller get nervous around you. Him glancing everywhere, but at you. “I guess the witch didn’t take in your other needs when she left you here either, huh?”

Jimin looks down at you on his shoulder, confused. Not understanding what your words mean or why your voice suddenly became hushed. When he sees the way your biting your lip, making your words more suggestive to his ears now, he blinked rapidly and felt his own face become redder in this dark cave. The heat burning him ever so slightly.

He swallows around the lump in his throat, digging his nails into the hard ground, but because they’re so sharp it cuts through the hard sand easily. You pick your head up off of his shoulder when you see his reaction. Not wanting to overwhelm him to much, but still smiling nonetheless. You start to look around, trying to change the subject since your mind stared thinking some very corrupted thoughts, but then you feel his hand squeeze yours. Making you look back at him and see the shy look in his eyes.

“You okay, Jimin?”

He looks everywhere but at you again, and is somehow able to answer your question with a few stuttering words. Even if the feel on your face in his neck still lingers. “Y-your skin… it’s…”

Unable to find the words he’s trying to form, he caresses your hand still in his hand with his thumb. Captivated by the soft feel your skin has against his own.

You grown a small smile, leaning closer while you quiet your voice as you speak, “Do you like the feel of me, Jimin?”

His name on your lips makes his stomach twist, and he squeezes the sand in his one hand instead of the one that’s holding yours. Feeling so sensitive to even your whispering of his name. Jimin couldn’t even believe it himself on how affected he was by you. It’s been so long since he last had a friend, and you being all female and fluid with your actions has been making him dizzy with hypersensitivity. On one but him being able to touch him for far too long, and he’s starting to understand the extent of what your small touches can do.

But he doesn’t hate it. He wants you to overstimulate him. Make him feel things he’s hasn’t in so long, and he doesn’t care if he ends up looking like a tomato because of it. To think, he almost lost you to his devilish - in a bad way - looks from the very beginning. His mean hisses and gruesome appearance making you frightened at first, but he’s glad that he built up the courage at the time to ask you to stay. To not run away like all the other people that only ever got a glimpse of him at the time, and running away from the sheer fear of what he could be.

You were the first to get to know him. Actually take interest in him, and want to find out what makes Jimin Jimin. Not just about the curse, but also what he used to love. How sitting out in the sun used to be his favorite thing, and how he has a ear for good music. Wanting to go back to the days where he could roam freely outside of this caves, but never having the ability to do so.

Jimin thinks the first time he realized he had real feelings for you, and not just the obsession with you touching him, was when you brought some headphone with you on your visit. The day after he told you his love for music, you let him listen to your own mixture of a playlist. Come to find out Jimin loves modern pop music, and seeing the way his eyes lit up when he heard the tunes for the first time had you amazed.

It may have seemed like such a trivial thing to people in the real world, but to Jimin in his little cave of a world it was everything. His heart palpating a little faster for you ever since. That was three days ago, and now he wants to experience more firsts with you. More firsts that he can’t even begin to comprehend.

That’s why, still a stuttering mess, Jimin lets out a breathless, “Yes,” to your question. Him wanting you to touch him as much as you are allowing it.

And you’re definitely allowing it today. You squeeze his hand in yours, watching his eyes light up when you pick up your other hand to inch it towards him. Your hand gently caresses his cheek, feeling his skin pebble under yours in goosebumps. Feeling a little darling, and maybe even mischievous, you inch closer to him. Tracing his nose with your own, and hearing Jimin’s breathing pick up in the process.

You don’t kiss his lips, you not being sure how he’ll react to that yet, but you do tease at the kiss. Lingering your lips so closely to his, while your other hand brushes his cheeks and goes down his neck that’s slightly exposed from his tight leather turtleneck. You start to wonder where Jimin got these clothes from, but that thought goes away when you hear Jimin let out a small moan. Your lips brushing the corner of his mouth when you move in a centimeter closer.

You bite your lip, loving the sound he just made and how he’s practically vibrating in his seat now. His hand once digging into the sand has a fist full of it now. Grasping onto it for dear life as you continue with your teasing touches.

“So soft,” Jimin whispers in between the two of you, and if you weren’t so close to him you probably wouldn’t of heard it. Almost like his lips moved without him knowing and speaking the firsts words he thought of. You smile at his endearing compliment.

“Thank you, Jimin. You feel good too.” Jimin groans at the small praise. Somehow sounding so much more dirty in his innocent ears. “Do you want to feel even more good?”

It’s a dumb question, really. Of course Jimin wants to feel good, but it’s more of a question that is he ready for it? Ready to feel things he hasn’t been able to before. Nonetheless he enthusiastically nods his head at you.

You giggle at his enthusiastic response. Although you told yourself you wouldn’t do this no more then a moment ago, having Jimin in your arms like this is making you crave the same thing. To feel how his lips would feel against yours, and wanting to find out what he would do when you do it.

Tentatively, you slowly move in closer to him. Feeling his breathe fan your lips when he gasps and realizes what you’re about to do. You pause just when your lips were about to touch, and you look into Jimin’s wide eyes. So much innocence there. Dark eyes that you think were once brighter then the sun stare up at you. Seeming inpatient when you watch one of them twitch.

Then, you do it. You push your small pair of lips against his plump ones, and there’s an instant reaction from Jimin. A small moan being released into your mouth. He tastes like bark and sand, but his lips feel softer then clouds. Feeling a little good about how his lips feel against your own, but Jimin is on cloud 9 about yours.

You taste like mint and sugar to him. Two things he hasn’t been able to taste in a long time. You feel so good against him, and not knowing how to express that besides staying still, he just let you take over. Thinking if he moves even a little bit, you’ll decide to detach your lips from his. But you don’t.

After a few seconds to let Jimin get the first little gentle tasting of you, you start to move against him. Inexperienced lips eventually move back with you, but you’re mainly taking the lead with how both of your lips are moving.

It isn’t until your tongue juts out to touch his bottom lip, that you feel the familiar vibration of excitement come from him along with a higher pitched moan that you swallow from him. Slowly, you allow your tongue to enter his mouth. Not touching his tongue yet with yours, but scrapping it across his shape teeth. The sharp surface making your head spin because you’ve never felt something so interesting that it gets your blood flowing against your tongue, and you can only imagine how Jimin is feeling.

Jimin is feeling fucking crazed. He’s dizzy by you still touching his hand and neck, but the way your lips are moving against him now has him melting. When he feels your tongue touch his lip, he can’t help but moan at the contact. Something so simple as a touch of tongues has him feeling as hard as a rock too. When your tongue touches his teeth, it makes him feel ecstatic. Knowing you’re not afraid of touching his sharp canines, and being so grateful to have met a girl like you.

When you feel Jimin start to slouch, his relaxed mind taking over for him, you touch your tongue against his. Besides just another moan his hands shoot you out of the sand - grasping onto your shoulders gently like he couldn’t help but want to touch you further in that moment.

After another moment has passed, you detach your lips from each other. Both of your lips feeling swollen, but you smile when you see how fucked out Jimin looks by just kissing. Him looking like he was just drenched by water because of how much he’s sweating.

“Did you like that?” You ask after another moment has passed, scrapping your nose against his like before.

Jimin breathes in as much air his lungs with allow, feeling like he hasn’t breathed the entire time your lips were in matrimony. Unable to speak now, he nods his head enthusiastically again for you.

If Jimin wasn’t in love with you before, he sure is now. And what’s even better then that, you’re also starting to feel your heart grow a little bigger for the cave dweller.

-----

Before you know it, a month has passed since you first met Jimin. In all honestly, you’ve never lived a more happier life before you met Jimin. While talking on the phone with Hoseok last, which was over a week ago now, you realized something detrimental to your life.

You always secretly wanted this.

Wanted a life filled around just one person. In a way, you’ve also been touch starved yourself. Maybe not by actual touching, but starved by having the sense of love from another person. That’s why you always loved the loners. Wanting to be around the people you felt needed you most. You just loved to feel needed, and right now, Jimin needs you more than ever.

That’s why, without thinking twice about it, you moved your whole life out here. To bum-fuck nowhere in Lewisburg, Pennsylvania. Renting a cabin from a nice family near by, and then telling you that you could stay as long as you want because no one had rented from them in years. It was cheap, and it gave you enough space to do what you needed there. You actually have a lot of money saved up, especially all the money you kept after your grandparents passed away. You being there only grandchild and actually giving a shit about them when they were alive gave you this perk.

It also didn’t matter where the cabin was or what it looked like. You only took it because it was less then five miles from Jimin’s cave, and cheap as fuck. You weren’t going to be spending much time in it, anyway.

Now, here you are, in the lap of a cave dweller that’s dick is as hard as a rock again from just kissing. You both have been in this position a lot since your first kiss. Both of you wanting to be consumed by each other in every way possible, and Jimin being surprised every time you let it happen. You’ve been taking the lead every time, which you didn’t care nor worry about, but this time it was Jimin who started the ritual of you two kissing.

All it took was you wiping some water after a drink from your flask off of your mouth, and his eyes were zeroed in on your movements. His own mouth watering when he watched you lick the corner of your mouth.

With a hesitating and stuttering, “C-can I kiss you?”

Skip to a couple minutes later, and now you’re straddling his legs, with his arms hesitantly wrapped around your back. Kissing like it’s both of your first times again. Which, no more then a month ago, it was Jimin’s first. That’s why you haven’t pushed him to far. Not wanting to overwhelm or push him to far off the ledge of his innocence.

But now you’re all for corruption at this point. It’s been so long since someone wanted you like this. Even if he was a cave monster, you want him just as much as he does you. Him asking for the kiss is all you needed to know he wanted you, not to mention the reactions he gives every time you still brush hands. But this was different. It wasn’t just his touch starved brain wanting you, he actually wanted you!

So now, your hands are buried in his dark locks, and you’re slowly rocking your hips back and forth. Loving it every time Jimin moans into your mouth when you brush his hard cock through his jeans with your thighs. You’ve been itching to touch that part of him. To see what this cave dweller has inside his tight pants, but you’re not sure how he would react to it.

Kissing and gentle rubs through the pants are one thing, but actually touching him there is different. You’re not sure if he’s ready for it too, but your mouth still waters every time you think about how’d he react when your mouth surrounded him for the first time.

You moan into his mouth at the thought, Jimin stiffening underneath you at the sound. You rarely make any noises besides the sounds of heavy breathing. Hearing you actually moan is a whole different experience for Jimin’s ears. He wants you to make that sound again. He wants to make you feel good. As good as you do for him, and that noise was the first indication that he somehow did just that.

Slowly, he detaches your lips from his. Not moving to far away because he barely can contain himself if he does. You frown at him, not wanting to stop what you were once doing, but the way Jimin is nibbling on his lips right now you know he didn’t stop for no reason.

“Um… y/n,” He says your name like he already doesn’t have your full attention.

Your crock you head to the side, worried that you may have pushed Jimin to far with your own dirty thoughts somehow. “Everything okay, Jimin?”

While looking in between the two of you, he nods his head. His face is getting redder by the second, and you’re starting to really worry about what’s bothering him so much. Before your mind can drift to what it could be, Jimin finds the confidence to ask, “C-can I touch you?”

You raise an eyebrow at him, confused. “We’re already touching, silly.”

You pet the back of his head to emphasize your words, and Jimin’s arm hairs stand on end at the tentative caress. “That’s not what I-…“ He huffs out a breathe, letting out his frustration for not knowing the words he wants to say. So he tries one more time like you taught when you realized he had this problem, “I want to - to-…”

He hovers his hand in front of you. Gesturing all around your body and making you have to figure out what he wants. You’re a patient person. You also had a gift for figuring out riddles, so figuring out what Jimin wants with small hints is usually quite easy for you.

You look at his hands, how there hovering over every part of you. Then you look at his face, seeing the frustration in his eyes, but also the way he bites his bottom lip in concentration.

After a few more agonizing seconds tic by for Jimin, you figure out what he wants with a smirk. “Jimin… do you want to touch me here?” You take your own hand, placing it on your breast.

Jimin nods his head fast, biting his lip so hard he can taste metal. “Want to make you feel good too.”

You bite your own lip, feeling a blush come on by his words. He doesn’t even know how sexy it is to hear those words come from him. How dirty they sound.

“Alright, Jimin,” Is the last thing you say before you take one of his hovering hands in yours, and press it against your breast through your thin shirt. Jimin quietly gasps, looking at the area his hand is resting, wide eyed. You find him so adorable sometimes, but right now having him hold you like this is making your own neither regions clench.

You love feeling his hand on you like this, and so does he - Clearly. Jimin starts by experimentally groping you breast, feeling you squirm a little on top of him. He glances up at you and sees the slight blush on your checks. He knows that’s how he gets when you touch a certain part of him he likes, so you must be feeling the same. It’s when his thumb caresses a bump peaking out from under your shirt, that he hears it again.

You moan into the quiet cave when his thumb rubs over your nipple. Not wearing a bra today was a good call because having him touch you like this is feeling amazing! Jimin then feels enough confidence to grab onto your other breasts, both of his thumbs rubbing your buds through your shirt at the same time. You arch your back from the ecstasy inducing feeling his hands are giving you, pushing your breasts further into his hands as you do so. You can’t help yourself anymore…

You roughly smash your lips back together, gripping onto the back of his neck to push his lips further onto yours. You both moan into each other’s mouths at the same time. You doing so because Jimin now knows what you like up top, so he keeps rubbing at your nipples. Jimin moans because you’re now roughly grinding down on him, wanting to create an even higher amount of friction than before.

Before you entered his life, he never found the need to touch himself. When it did come, before you entered his life, he would just ignore it until it went away. The feeling and need to touch his cock and cum. That feelings has been slowly nibbling at his resolve lately. Eventually breaking completely and making him fist his cock in his hand one morning after you left the cave…. that was yesterday…. But the feeling is still there, now.

He wants to be as intimate with you as possible, and have you against him instead of in his head while he cums. Maybe that’s why he found the courage to ask you to kiss him this time. Knowing what the extent of his pleasure is making him want to find that extent with you too. Having that feeling now as your core grinds against his dick through your clothing.

Your not satisfied with just grinding, though. You can’t wait anymore. You want to touch him for real, and the way Jimin is moaning into your mouth right now you don’t think it will be to much. Even if it is, you know he will tell you. He’s promised you numerous times before, that he would tell you if the touching gets to be too much, so you’re trusting that he would tell you to stop if he’s gets to overwhelmed.

You detach your lips from his, giggling at his inpatient groan because of it, and back up in his lap. Jimin watches you curiously, already craving to feel you on top of him again but being a good boy by remaining patient. It’s when your hand starts to unbuckle his pants that his eyes blow out wide, though.

“Y/n, what are you… are you..?”

Jimin doesn’t need to finish his question, because he get his answer the second you pull down his pants just enough to release him from the confides of his tight pants. Jimin wants to be embarrassed that you’re seeing him so exposed like this, but once you grab ahold of him, he’s knocking his head back against the cave wall and moaning louder then he ever has before.

You slowly pump Jimin’s cock in your hand, not trying to move to fast or to slow. All the while kissing his now exposed neck. Just like you expected, Jimin is acting stir crazy at your touches.

The way your hand is moving on him, circling his tip every now and then with your thumb, has Jimin seeing stars. He knew you would be so much better at this then him. His hands were sloppy and unsure when he touched himself, but your hands are determined and experienced. Each pump of his cock feeling better than the last.

He wonders how many other guys you’ve done this to - been with in this way - but he pushes that thought as far away from his brain as possible. Not like the tickling of jealous it gives him, and how can he think about anything else, but your hand right now?

Jimin’s eyes are screwed shut. His long nails are diggings into the hard sand, and his sharp teeth are on full display as he hisses through his pleasure. You love this side of Jimin. The part of him that can’t control himself when he feels so good. It’s truly any amazing sight, and when you look down at his leaking cock that’s close to combusting you’re mouth waters. Wanting to taste him and have him cum in your mouth before he does it your hand. Which, by the looks of it, seems like it’s going to happen in the next few seconds.

You slow your hands movements down, moving your face closer to Jimin’s. When he looks back at you, finally opening his eyes, he almost cums right then and there. Seeing that look in your eyes does things to him. More than your little touches, and more then hearing you say his name in normal conversation. You’re just so pretty in his eyes, and the way you’re making him feel right now has him putty in your hands.

“Can I taste you, Jimin?“

It takes him a few seconds to understand what you mean, his inexperienced and oversensitive mind right now clouding his thinking, but once he watches you lick your lips his eyes widen even more. He never even thought about that before - what it would be like to have your mouth on him. His one other sexual experience with himself only had him imagining you touching him where you are now, so he’s not sure what it would feel like to have your wet... pretty... mouth surrounding him...

He makes a noise that sounds animalistic, but instead of shying away from it you start up stroking him again. Jimin flutters his eyes closed, trying to form words to your question but unable to because your hand just feels so good. Instead of saying anything, he just nods his head and then hangs it. Curious as to what it would feel like, and by the way your eyes light up when he agrees makes him think it’s anything but bad.

You bend your body over, your mouth centimeters from the tip of him. With one last look up at him, you take the tip of him in his mouth. The same animalistic noise is heard from Jimin again, but this time it sounds more monstrous. More beastly. Like you’re grinding down his control with your mouth alone. You don’t want him to keep his control, not while your mouth is on him.

So, you swallow him whole. Hearing a high pitched screech from above you as you do so. You know it could be considered a little mean to overwhelm him like this, but he did agree to it and there was no way he wouldn’t enjoy it.

Just like Jimin thought, it felt anything but bad. Feeling your wet mouth on him now is having him see stars again, but at the same time it makes his ears blow out. Only hearing white noise as your mouth slowly starts bobbing up and down on his length. It’s overwhelming, but in no way is Jimin going to stop you. It’s not like that. He wants this. He wants you.

You continue to bob your head on him slowly, enjoying the salty taste of his pre-cum on your tongue and hearing the moaning from above you. The vibrations of your own moan virberates across Jimin’s whole body. He’s feeling blood in his hands now because what was once filled with sand now it’s crushed in his palms, and making his nails hit his skin. There’s no pain to it, and truthfully he barely feels it. How can he feel anything else, but your mouth on him in this moment? Surrounding him fully, and making his mind feel cloudy with pleasure.

The wetness of your mouth is making him slick, so you pick up speed especially when he starts to grow larger in your mouth. He was already close from your touches before, and your mouth now has him... has him...

Jimin feels it in his spine first. The feeling of pressure building and wanting to release all at once. He tries to warn you. Not knowing that you would secretly love to have him cum down your throat, but he also doesn’t have the capability to form words at this moment. So, he does the first thing he can think of when he starts to cum. He pulls you by your hair straight off of him. Cumming all over himself and keeping you as far away from the mess as possible. Not wanting to dirty you with his seed.

Jimin’s seeing fucking galaxies now as he cums. Still feeling your mouths essence on him like a ghost, and spurt after spurt is the result of that. It takes Jimin a good minute to finally stop cumming and come down from his high, but when he does he looks at you with an overall fucked out lock. He realizes then that he’s still holding onto your hair, and lets go of it. Combing his fingers through your hair next because he just can’t help himself. You’re all he sees and all he feels. You’re all he ever sees and ever feels, but right now it’s times a hundred!

You smile at your work, seeing Jimin look so out of breath and dizzy from pleasure, and giggle when Jimin’s sweaty fingers try to pet your hair back to normal. The pull of your hair was surprising, but it did send a thrill through you. A thrill that went right to your core and made your body heat up like furnace. You wondered what Jimin would say if you asked him to recuperate this pleasure for you, but you wiped that though away as soon as it formed. Looking at him now, he looks beyond exhausted and you think only one new feeling is enough for him today.

You gently put him back in his pants, then settle yourself in his lap again - making sure not to sit on his slowly declining length in his pants. You wrap your arms around his neck, and are elated to feel Jimin wrap his arms around your waist lazily. Jimin looks close to passing out, so you kiss him on the nose to spark some energy back into him.

“Did that feel good, baby?”

He hums at the nickname, smiling up at you. “So good… Sorry I pulled your hair.” He winces. “I just couldn’t tell you what was coming.”

You smile down at Jimin, happy that he cares enough about you to apologize for his roughness, but you also can’t help your chuckle that bubbles out of your chest. “It’s okay, Jimin.” You peck him on the lips. “Just next time, let it come.”

You wink at him, and watch him process your words.

Let it come…. Next time…

Jimin is once again staring at you wide eyed, and you’re laughing up a storm in his lap. Finding his innocence so adorable even after you just rocked his world with you hands and mouth.

Your little monster is in for a treat with you, and you can’t wait to teach him your other dirty tricks.

The End

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holykillercake · 4 years ago

Text

Strawberry and Cigarretes

pairing: Sanji x Reader

word count: 2.6k

highlight: ¨Everything hurt, and for the first time, you wished to forget what the ocean sounded like.¨

warnings: slight angst

notes: This was a request from @vemuabhi! <3 Very special because it was my first ever request! I wanted to doge the obvious path (which I almost took) and do something that didn´t involve Whole Cake Island, so maybe it is not the biggest angst (hats off to Mr. Oda cause he is Father angst) but I did my very best! I hope you all enjoy and Happy Birthday, Sanji-kun! <3

𝕃𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕤, 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕤, 𝕠𝕣 𝕘𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕤!

Do you remember when you were a kid, and you´d find a shell laying on the sand? And you would pick it up and put it on your ear, hoping to listen to the ocean? It´d always make a smile grow on your face before you tossed it aside and jumped into the water.

That time was different. When you heard the ocean share its endless secrets and tell its adventurous stories, you just wanted to sit there all day and listen.

This specific event happened a couple of months after you joined the Strawhats. Chopper had borrowed you his stethoscope cause you thought it was cool, and in the middle of thousands of things you´ve already heard in your life, good and bad, the heartbeat was something that you were oblivious to.

Some would think that asking to hear someone else´s heartbeat was weird, but inside the Thousand Sunny... well, those guys put ¨weird¨ on another level, and you would have to work your ass off to surpass that.

Chopper got all blushed when you leaned closer to his tiny and furry torso, Usopp told you stories about a war he once won but had to have his heart replaced by a lion´s, Franky said that if you wanted to see a heart he could simply pull it out for you, Brook invested on the same ¨Oh, I don´t have a heart. Yohohoho¨ joke, Zoro let you listen to his wrist, Nami and Robin almost had you sinking into their generous breasts, and Sanji... you left him for last because you didn´t know how to ask him. So you just tiptoed quietly inside the kitchen, sneaked behind him, and tried to listen to his heart through his back. You feared that your nose would start bleeding if he faced you while you were doing it.

That was exactly what he did, by the way. He poured more water into the stew he was cooking and turned around, putting out his cigarette so ashes wouldn´t fall on you. Immediately you began to sweat, your breath quickened, and hold the stethoscope with a steady hand became a herculean task.

His lean fingers moved to the collar of his blue shirt and started to unbutton a few, enough for you to have better access. At that point, you believed that the reason why you weren´t bleeding yet was that you were slowly having a stroke, and Sanji´s action was God´s gift to you for being a good person while alive.

Then he didn´t do anything else, just put both hands in his pockets and waited while you listened to every single bubble popping inside his chest like you were afraid to miss one. In the end, he tucked a lock of hair behind your ear and went back to his stew.

But that was all about it. The following months were just like any other, the crew kept acting as weird as their minds allowed, and you kept shutting whatever your stupid heart was yelling at you. Although... if you could be honest for one moment, deep down you were hurt.

Maybe you scared or crept him away with your childish curiosity. Maybe he had noticed your feelings for him and got disgusted. Well, not disgusted, he probably didn´t like you the same way and didn´t know how to tell you, so keeping words to a minimum was his way to go.

He stopped singing and twirling around you, he´d rather call your name respectfully; when you shared the night watches, he just remained quiet by your side, answering briefly to your questions or comments; he even stopped trying to sneak into your baths or make suggestive comments - which you didn´t love before, but you know, you only miss something when it's gone.

The whole crew had noticed the change in both of your behaviors, but they too were not sure how to address it. Whenever someone asked something about it you would say ¨Really? I didn´t notice anything.¨. Either too proud to confront him or too afraid of the truth.

¨Oi, you ok?¨ Zoro asked, breaking into your personal bubble of sadness.

You knew it was Zoro because you two were taking the night watch, but you didn´t expect him to show interest or concern about your upset state.

The night was chilly, so you were sitting on Sunny´s grass, arms around your knees, holding them close to your chest to keep the warmth.

¨Why do you care?¨ you answered bitterly, but he didn´t mind since he was the king of freaking Bitter Land.

¨I don´t. But I´ll go crazy if I hear you sigh one more time.¨ he sat close to you, not too close, just enough for you to listen to each other.

A chuckle left your mouth involuntarily, you never expected his grouchy temper would come in handy in times like this. Then your frowned expression came back, and you let out another sigh.

Before you realized Zoro had pushed you with his Sandai Kitetsu scabbard, making you fall to your side with a squeak.

¨I told you.¨

You sat again, taking some grass off your leg ¨Yeah. Can´t deny it.¨

¨Yeah, you´ve been doing that a lot lately.¨

He didn´t look like he was teasing you, his eyes focusing on the line where the sky met the ocean, where the stars disappeared and became blurry white brushes on the water.

¨I... I don´t-¨

¨I think you can do better than the stupid cook.¨he kept his usual tone ¨ But I guess we don´t get to choose these things.¨

You were taken aback by his words, and despite you trying to fight your lips from trembling and tears from falling, it was useless. You had been crushing these feelings inside you for too long, and it killed you the more you ignored it.

The swordsman wasn´t saying those things because he loved you or anything like that, but because the entire crew - except for Luffy - had already noticed and began acting weird about it. And despite being the captain´s duty to solve any problem or an uncomfortable situation, your captain was a bit too oblivious, so he had to step in.

Besides, his nakama was getting hurt. He didn´t care about the ero cook.

¨If you want me to beat him up... just let me know.¨

He said it to cheer you up - not that he didn´t mean, he´d do it for much less - but nothing seemed worth smiling for now. You just bit your lip in order to avoid an embarrassing whining, since you were unable to stop the painful tears from rolling down your cheeks.

Everything hurt, and for the first time, you wished to forget what the ocean sounded like.

¨W-What should I do?¨

¨That´s not my problem to solve, Y/N.¨ he stood up beside you ¨But sometimes, when I have a difficult problem that I can´t solve my way...¨ his gaze still locked with the horizon ¨... I think about what my captain would do.¨ he left without any further words, leaving you not only sad but confused as well.

You slept on it for the next couple of days, still not understanding what he meant. Maybe he just wanted to leave the conversation and said whatever came to mind. But even that didn´t fit right. If he didn´t want to be stuck in an uncomfortable conversation, he wouldn´t have started one.

So you took as a personal mission to observe your captain until you learned how to think like him, hoping that figuring that out would solve your problem.

You had joined the crew as a historian, the person responsible for writing down every adventure meticulously, every tiny detail of every battle, and every glorious victory along the Strawhats journey. So in one dusk, when you were in charge of the night watch with Robin and the moon was full and bright, you took your journals and began rolling through the pages, looking for a pattern, something that anticipated every major decision of your captain.

You even borrowed old diaries from the time you were not part of their crew. The stories lacked details, but they served to paint a picture. Basically:

Luffy insults an ugly lady, saves a kid, eats something, finds Zoro, beats the crap out of a crazy marine, saves the day, gets his first crewmate.

Luffy gets eaten by a bird, then vomited in a town, finds Nami, eats something, is put in a cage, beat the crap out of some pirates, saves the day.

Luffy wants a new ship, meets Usopp, eats something, gets thrown from a cliff, beats the crap out of some pirates, saves the day, gets Going Merry and a liar.

Luffy wants a cook, explodes a restaurant, becomes a waiter, eats something, meets Sanji, beats the crap out of some pirates, saves the day, gets a cook.

Luffy eats something, finds the fishmen, goes for a walk, is thrown in the water, beats the crap out of some pirates, saves the day, gets a navigator.

Luffy wants a doctor, eats everything, fights some crazy ass bunnies, climbs a mountain, meets Chopper, beats the crap out of some pirates, saves the day, gets a doctor.

Luffy eats something, wants to fix Going Merry, meets Franky, loses Robin, beats the crap out of some world government agents, saves the day, gets an archeologist, a shipwright, and Thousand Sunny.

Luffy hears a ghoulish singing, finds a speaking skeleton in a busted ship, has his shadow stolen, beats the crap out of some Warlord of the Sea, gets a musician.

When you finished the last journal, the weight of your body pushed you to the floor, and you laid on your back for a couple of minutes, overwhelmed by the amount of information in your head.

¨I know what to do...¨ you took a deep breath ¨... I´m gonna eat something.¨

You mumbled something to Robin, telling her that you´d be back in a few minutes, and wandered to the kitchen.

As soon as you entered the room a sweet and comforting aroma like whipped cream and strawberries invaded your senses, making your head turn to the counter immediately.

¨Y/N-chan...¨ the cook said.

You opened and closed your mouth a couple of times, looked at him, and then to your feet, your fingers fidgeting as a sign of your anxious state.

¨D-Didn't know you were awake.¨ you marched to the table and helped yourself with some sugar cookies.

¨Oh... It won´t take much longer...¨ you heard his muffled voice somewhere in the back of your mind, all you could hear was the blood pumping in your ears ¨... cake because today is my birthday and I thought we...¨ your vision was focused on the cookie jar, crushing the granular biscuit with your fingertips ¨...and I...I didn´t know if-¨

¨What would Luffy do?¨ you whispered to yourself.

¨W-What?¨

¨What would Luffy do?¨

The question wasn´t for him, it was for you. You felt something growing inside your chest, like the blood that pumped in your heart was boiling and burning, giving you the strength and courage you needed.

¨I have been trying to find answers to a lot of things, you know?¨ you stood up to face the cook, palms spread on the table, ¨I ... do you hate me, Sanji?¨

He stopped what he was doing and let the knife rest on the cutting board. When his gaze found yours, there was no way back. That is what Luffy would do. He´d eat something, do whatever came to his mind, and deal with the consequences. No need to go back.

¨Y/N-chan... why do you...¨

¨I mean, I ask this because...¨ you clenched your hands, cursing yourself for feeling the need to cry ¨I can´t take this anymore, Sanji! If I did something to offend you or if I said something...¨ your voice was broken and weak, and you were a mess of tears and sobs ¨You don´t have to love me back, that´s not what I am saying, but... I can´t stand-¨

¨Y/N-chan... why do you think I hate you?¨ he wiped his hands with a towel and made his way towards you, slowly.

¨Oh, come on, Sanji... You treat me differently, you´re cold and distant, you don´t say a word to me even when we share night shifts! If you don´t hate me, then this must be a sick game you´re playing.¨ your legs felt wobbly, and you sat back in the chair, not being able to face him anymore. The courage and strenght you had minutes ago was gone.

You just watched him get closer and kneel in front of you, his cold fingers gently brushing away the hot tears on your cheeks.

¨I could never hate you, Y/N.¨ he said softly ¨I am sorry I made you feel like this, I am sorry I made you cry...¨ his fingers touched your trembling lips.

¨Then why...¨

¨I didn´t want to scare you away like I always do, Y/N... I know I can be too much sometimes, with the nose bleeding and everything. But that´s how I am, and I didn´t want you to think of me as an idiot... so I prefer being silent, then say something stupid and... ¨

¨You don´t have to say this. I don´t need pity talk...¨you spoke as more tears fell, giving him a chance to take his statement back.

¨I have to, Y/N. But not because of pity talk.¨ he gently pressed his forehead against yours, like bunnies do when they apologize.

¨Then why?¨

¨Because I love you, Y/N.¨ the blonde closed the space left between the two of you, kissing you passionately.

He helped you get up without breaking the kiss and leaned you against the kitchen table, his hands holding your body close while yours ran through his golden hair. His mouth tasted like strawberries and cigarettes, a flavor to which you could easily get addicted.

You parted the kiss just enough to get some oxygen, your noses were touching, and you could feel his heavy breathing against your skin.

¨I didn´t know today is your birthday...¨ you whispered, afraid that this was a dream and you´d wake up alone again.

¨Yeah, I was hoping to get a Happy Birthday from you, you know.¨ he chuckled.

¨I think you´ll be getting more than that.¨

You stared into each other´s eyes for a moment before he pulled you to a hug. When you leaned against his warm chest you heard it again, the same babble of the ocean, only this time you smiled, knowing that it wanted to listen to your stories and secrets as well.

¨Sanji?¨

¨Hm?¨

¨Happy Birthday... I love you.¨

¨I love you too, Y/N.¨ he kissed you again.

¨Please, don´t have sex on the dinner table.¨ you jumped when Robin spoke.

When you turned, you saw all your crewmates dressed in pajamas and messy hair staring back at you with sparkly sleepy eyes. You spot Zoro back in the crowd, you smiled and gave him a silent ¨Thank you.¨. You couldn´t help but wonder how the guy who manages to gets lost walking down a straight path was able to guide some sense into you.

In any way, you´ve found it. Inside of his chest, inside of his heart was the All Blue you heard so much of. Maybe that was the thing with it, and why only a few people found it. Everyone assumes that it is a place, where the four Blues meet, but it´s easy to forget that when you´re a pirate the ocean becomes the essence of who you are.

Little did you know that Sanji had found his All Blue too.

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 4 years ago

Note

Hi hi! I saw your post asking for request/inspiration! Maybe Geralt x fem reader, and geralt has to hunt down a monster but the reader as well, so first they try to outsmart the other but eventually they realize they have to work together and they end up falling for each other? ❤️❤️

Bound By Blood - Geralt of Rivia x (f)reader - Part 1

side note- I have no self control and just kept writing so we’re gonna have a pt. 2 soon

Summary: Geralt has learned of a mysterious witch and her supposed vicious familiar, now he must hunt to bring them down for their crimes.

Warning: blood & gore, angst, bit o fluff, some smut sprinkled in the mix

It had been a good couple of weeks since his last kill, or since he had a solid amount of coin that could pay for food and board. So like any Witcher with a freshly sharpened sword and a thirst for coin with a little adventure included, Geralt was on the move, in search of his next monster to slay.

Though by the looks of it, the continent is starting to feel like a much larger place then he remembered, or perhaps he’s out in the wilds a bit further then once previously thought. Either way, the day is bright and the woods are green, although the occasional snowflake floating into his hair and Roach’s for that matter may become an annoyance later on. Guess he’ll just have to see where the road takes him this time.

No sooner would his swimming thoughts of wondrous curiosity be answered after a couple hours of traveling through the now very snow covered forest, where he would happen upon a small gathering of road worn travelers. All of whom appeared to be speaking over a small fire, their horses tied off close by. And most likely, weapons hidden at the ready for odd folk like himself.

Roach’s hooves are almost silent against the powdery white fluff as Geralt makes his way into view of this pack of loyal companions trying to have a meal in the midst of their camp before nightfall. Soon their eyes find Roach and himself, these strangers look on in cautious apprehension, wary and uncertain of what this Witcher’s true intentions are.

Suddenly a young foxy looking boy stands, his thick auburn hair falling in his face as he points a shaky steel knife in the air, “What business you have? We don’t want a fight.” Speaks the boy as confidently as he can muster, though there is a small waver in his voice. The others wait for an answer.

Geralt blinks, face unassuming and as relatively non-threatening as possible, “I’m just passing through, I’m trying to see what beast needs killed over the next hill.”

The boy lowers his knife, “Oh...well, good luck to you then. There’s been a great bear said to be hunting for Nilfgaard soldiers over that way, that’s why we’re headed west instead.”

Before Geralt is able to respond an older woman with a wolf rug over her back steps next to the boy protectively, “Best keep a move on Witcher,” She warns, eyeing him up suspiciously with her pale grey eyes, “said a woman with...unnatural powers commands the beast to kill for her. A witch of the wood it’s said, but that old bastard she has, been killing villagers and travelers alike who venture too far from town.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Mutters Geralt before directing Roach to continue onward with a click of his tongue.

——

They had never seen you coming, and now they’re paying for their lack of scouting with their pathetic little lives. The soldiers of Nilfgaard were said to be the most deadly and dangerous, men who came with fire in their hearts and steel in their hands. They feared nothing and no one, dressed in black armor and growing in numbers from the south everyday was enough to make you feel sick.

They had no right nor proper business claiming and desecrating what wasn’t there’s, how dare they hurt innocent people, they acted like true barbarians. And you would not put up with it any longer, they had burned your home, murdered your mother, and destroyed the rest of your village.

So for their crimes, you decided it was time to do what was necessary for the continents future survival, it was time to hunt. For months have you and your furry companion been here and there eradicating soldier camp after soldier camp with great satisfaction, now finally at long last have you tracked down a group of Nilfgaardians who’ve strayed too far from the main hoard. How unfortunate.

You had waited patiently to ambush them on the main road where they’d been trekking down for the past day and a half, it was too damn easy, all you did was pretend to be a hurt scared maiden in the woods. Then when they attempted to comfort you, your bear burst forth from the underbrush and slaughtered a handful before they even knew what hit them.

Now here you stand, boots in the spattered snow as you look around the blood stained white blanket of earth where a multitude of soldiers lay dead and mutilated. Though one remains with air still in his lungs, you smirk a wicked grin, eyeing up the fallen soldier as he stares wide eyed up at you from his broken body against a tree stump.

Your furry accomplice breaths heavy mountainous breaths close by, though he’s aware enough to know you’ll take care of the last one. And the terrified soldier knows it too as you take more steps closer. He flinches as you crouch down to meet his blood spattered face, “Nu-no, no...do-don’t...”

“Shhh.” You smile, raising a finger to his lips, silencing him instantly.

He’s shaking now, eyes like a young fearful child’s as he studies your beautiful yet frightening appearance. “I thought all Nilfgaardian soldiers feared nothing, not even death. What a disappointment you all are.”

“We will...ta-take it....a-all...” He whimpers out as you throw him a harsh glare that shuts his bloody mouth.

“Just like I have taken your brothers lives,” You whisper with a sly grin before casually shrugging, “an eye for an eye they say....so don’t be afraid, I have felt the same as you do right now. Helpless, terrified, in pain....but listen...” You look sincerely into his broken gaze, a small smile upon your lips as you rest a comforting hand over his arm, though he knows its anything but comfort. “Nilfgaard and all her subjects can burn in the fiery pits of the underworld for what they’ve chosen to do in these lands. I was on the wrong side of the sword once, now you are, and no magical bear is going to come save you.” Your words are as deadly as poison, like a cobra spitting venom to their prey before the final strike.

His eyes go wide, blood seeping down his cracked lips, “No. No..n-no no! No!” Suddenly you thrust your dagger right through his jugular and right back out again causing a spurt of blood to mark your cheek, standing back you watch as he gasps and sputters, choking on his own blood as it gushes out of him like a waterfall.

“He even dies like a bitch.” You mutter in disgust, cleaning off your sword with your arm before sheathing it once again, now looking over to the beast standing in the snow. Heavy white clouds of hot breath pierce the crisp air as he watches your every move in interest, “Come. Let’s get away from here before someone sees us, we don’t need anymore bloodshed today. Now these fuckers are food for crows.”

The bear growls in agreeance, trailing after you as some hungry black ravens caw from the trees in excitement for their new free meal. No village will burn today.

——

“Oh yes, I saw her command the bear to kill those soldiers just three days ago!”

“That beast took my son last week, kill them Witcher!”

“I’m afraid to visit my cousins in the next town over! You must kill them!”

That had been the comments and ramblings of the townsfolk of the local tavern when he asked who and where this witch and her bear was. Though he didn’t get much of a solid answer by any means, not until an old hunter had eventually directed him to where the most recent cluster of Nilfgaard soldiers had headed.

Stating that if Geralt follows their route, then he would most likely come upon the men’s remains somewhere along the road, and if he was lucky, he’d run into the two killers as well.

Indeed it had taken him about a day or so, but eventually the farther down the trail he got, the fresher the tracks became. Suddenly during his journey did he pass a rider-less horse on its way back towards town, a dark brown smear of some kind splattered across its grey leg. Now this looked quite promising.

Only a small trot up the road did he finally find the brutal remains of the soldiers that had most definitely not made it to wherever they had planned on heading. The snow in particular was disturbed and littered with chunks of men, swords thrown about and shields bent and broken. He could smell blood and piss from the men, most of all he could smell bear and what it had done here, though it was strange too. For a sweeter scent could be recognized on the cool wintery breeze, such a viable contrast to the current state of the environment.

She still lingers close, thinks the Witcher. Quickly moving to pull out his silver sword from within its sheath. Sensing a new presence among the fallen, he whips around in a dark blur only to be greeted face to face with a beautiful woman.

He stood his ground eyeing your form suspiciously like a lion wondering if his prey will be easy enough to kill, though he wasn’t certain if he truly wanted to kill you at all. You looked rather unassuming and calm, less monsterly and more a simple traveling woman then anything else, such unlike the grisly tall tales that those travelers and townsfolk had gossiped to him about.

Honestly Geralt was beginning to doubt what he had been given coin for, but he would not submit to that thought just yet, he has faced creatures just as alluring as you and found them quite deadly enough.

Keeping his silver placed firmly at his side, though still tightly grasped in his strong hand, his golden eyes trail over you cautiously, “You do this?” He wonders, coming out more of an accusatory statement as he glances at the bloody array of dead Nilfgaardian soldiers gutted about on the soft white snow.

Your breaths are steady though you feel more annoyed by his random intrusion then anything else, you only came back here to take their weapons to give to the villagers, “I have no quarrel with you, Witcher.” Your voice is truthful and fierce, not an ounce of nervousness radiating off of your tongue. As far as you’re concerned this man is nothing but an inconvenience.

He keeps a stoic face, not revealing much but a tinge of amusement in his shimmering eyes, “Strange then. I’ve been given coin to kill a dangerous sorceress and her enchanted bear. Fitting your description exactly, and here we are. Among the dead soldiers you’ve been claimed to murder.”

Scoffing you curtly fold your arms over your chest, “I hardly see a problem here when these fuckers have slaughtered countless innocents! They’re marching for the north and I do not doubt they’ll get it if people like me don’t try and lessen their numbers.”

He looks to the ground then back up to you, letting out a low frustrated sigh, “Your beast has killed villagers. Innocents.” His words are almost a slap in the face, but you know those people only got in the way of taking down these soldiers.

“Yes.” You nod, watching as he studies your face, “And it is a tragedy that I am greatly sorry for...but my companion is still an animal with his own will even when I give him a task. A bear is a bear, Witcher.”

He hums, “I understand that. But I cannot let you kill anyone else.”

Taking a single step back you quickly unfold your arms, alerting the Witcher to raise his sword though you show no intention of fighting him. His grey brows furrow as you shake your head, “You’re better off leaving us be. Those soldiers deserved what they got coming to them, and the people of this continent will thank us in due time. For they do not know the wrath and ruin that Nilfgaard is capable of.”

He watches as you take a couple more steps backwards towards the pine trees, your face serious and unflinching even when he takes a few steps towards you. “I kill monsters, witch. You’re no different.”

Now this does anger you, for that your eyes almost appear to darken with rage, your posture taller as you stare him down, “You are nothing but a blind fool who cannot see the bigger picture! So I won’t feel very bad about this..”

“About what?”

He watches as you take a step to the side, ignoring him when suddenly without warning does a ginormous brown bear charge from out of the evergreens, teeth and claws at the ready as they swing for his throat.

Geralt just barely dodges the huge furry bastard when a blundering paw races down for his arm, he twists away and out of the bears reach though his sword does catch the thick black pad of the bears left paw. It roars in pain, face a mask of rage as it turns towards Geralt with lighting reflexes.

Suddenly the bear swings a heavy paw directly into Geralt’s leather armored chest, knocking the wind out of him while also managing to thrust him blindly into a thick oak tree. All that the Witcher can glimpse before slipping into blissful unconsciousness is the wounded beast retreating into the woods while your silhouetted form begins walking towards him.

Then darkness.

——

When Geralt comes to he’s distressed to find his armor gone and his torso bare except for a thick white bandage wrapped around his shoulder and chest where the bear swatted at him with its large paw. The fabric is oddly soft, though a slight pink uneven line has seeped out now visible across his breasts, no doubt the area where that bear had gotten him.

His big golden irises blink hard, focusing better now to unexpectedly find your smirking face as you walk into view, “Have a pleasant rest?” You muse, sitting down in a soft cushioned chair at his bedside, “My old friend gave you a run for your coin huh?”

Well this is odd, he thinks.

His brows furrow even deeper, though his chest hurts too much to attempt an escape, “I would have imagined you were going to kill me. I don’t understand...”

Chuckling lightly you smile, “Remember Witcher, I have no quarrel with you. Just those fucking soldiers....and don’t worry, my companion will not bring you any more harm unless I see to it.”

“Well...uh...I guess that’s good then.” Mutters the Witcher, begrudgingly scooting himself up so that he may rest against the wooden headboard and have a better view of the small room, “Where exactly are we?”

Looking around the cozy cabin you’ve decided to inhabit for the time being, your eyes finally rest back on the curious silver haired man, “Somewhere that was once vacant and now is livable. That is all I will say, and all that matters to you now....so, my pursuer who’d see me dead if not for my cleverness. If you are going to be in my care for however long it takes you to heal, what is your name?” You watch as the Witcher purses his lips together, pausing for a moment to think if he should tell you, “Geralt. Geralt of Rivia.” He reveals in that titular gruff voice of his that’s honestly starting to grow on you even in the brief time you’ve known him.

Handing him a small smile of acknowledgement, you nod, “And I am Y/N of Stygga in the land of Ebbing which is north of Nilfgaard...so, Geralt of Rivia....what brings you to Thurn of all places and into my care? Besides the fact that my companion almost ended your pretty life.” You end with a wiggle of your brow.

“Coin.” He mutters humorously, so he is not just a man of silent beautifully chiseled stone after all.

You hum, “Simple and straight to the point, are all Witcher’s as intriguing as you are?”

Geralt blinks slowly, deciding to rest his head against the wood as he looks forward, “Perhaps only the ones who want to survive.”

Laughing you lean back in your seat, “Flattery and humor may yet keep you alive then. But you are mistaken with me, I do not intend to keep you as a prisoner in any way if that’s what you are meaning. You are free to go back to wherever you came from or to wherever you’re going....as I said, I have no quarrel with you. Witcher.” You speak his name with a bit of attitude considering he did originally come to kill you, nonetheless you quite enjoy his presence.

The look he gives you is enough to make you chuckle once more, then his eyes glance back to you, causing your laughter to die down, though he’s surprised that your smile has prevailed. “Then why have you kept me alive when you could have ended me just as quickly?” He wonders.

You shrug, “The world is scarce of such creatures like yourself, Witcher’s hmm...monster hunters. Others will need you, and this world is big after all and full of terrible things.” You add, hugging your cloak tighter as you tilt your head at him, “so I’d assume after you heal up you’ll leave me and my companion be as long as I agree to keep away from towns. Yes.”

“Hmm.” He utters, brows furrowed as he thinks over your offer.

The Witcher keeps silent as his face shifts into deep thought, huffing you roll your eyes, “Geralt are free to leave if you so choose. I give you my word if you give me yours.”

“Which is?”

“You let me and my familiar leave in peace and we let you live.”

He studies your face for a moment, trying to find any signs of falseness though he fails to spot it, “Fine.” Grumbles the handsome silver haired man.

You smile in accomplishment before a slightly awkward silence fills the room, deciding to break the tension you tap the arm of your chair, “Are you going to leave then? Right now?”

He keeps silent for some time as you patiently await his answer until finally he looks into your eyes, “No.”

“Huh.” You slowly nod, not quite expecting that answer, “...are you thirsty then? You were out for some time.”

“Yes.” Answers Geralt, simple and straight to the point.

Smiling you nod, standing now to fetch your new friend some water from outside, once you return with a metal cup do you hand him the cold liquid, his warm hand just barley touching yours. Sending shivers down your spine that you didn’t know was possible as you go back to sit next to him. “Those wounds should heal soon enough, I’ve heard Witcher’s heal fast. Is there any truth to that?”

His golden eyes trail over to you, not a hint of annoyance in the way that he looks to you now, “It would seem so. Hopefully I never have another run in with your friend anytime soon. Though I wouldn’t mind running into you again, hopefully under less bloody circumstances.” Admits Geralt with the ghost of a smile.

You chuckle, “As would I.”

——

In the following days would you and Geralt find comfort in one another’s presence as you helped him heal from his wounds. This Witcher had told you numerous stories about his adventures all over the continent and what beasts have been slain by his hand and sharp silver.

They were undoubtedly fascinating though surprisingly full of such vigor and even respect for the ones he’s been given coin to kill. It was pleasant when he spoke of all those who he had prevented from meeting an untimely and violent end from said monsters.

Even more so bewildering to you was how invested and intrigued you had become with each passing day, you actually woke up excited to see someone, to hear their voice and have them ask how your morning was.

Unbeknownst to you, Geralt had healed two days ago but had come to the fascinating conclusion that he was in-fact enjoying your company more then first realized. He loves listening to you boast about all the clever tricks you’ve pulled on the Nilfgaardians and how you’ve kept them away from the villagers who would most like want nothing to do with them.

Maybe it is the palpable truth that he has been indeed a bit lonely, or maybe it’s just that you tell the best stories and are unlike anyone he’s ever met before. But Geralt has begun to grow a deep fondness for you that cannot be fully explained by himself no matter how hard he may try.

Though at first he found you beautiful enough, that wasn’t a large concern considering he was there to kill you. Then once all was revealed he decided you really aren’t as evil and malevolent as what was spoken to him by the townsfolk.

Now, he has seen you, heard your voice and been given a kindness that he knows is something he shouldn’t deserve. But he cannot fully know if you share the same growing feelings, why would you? He came to kill, he came to end your beautiful life and for what, gold? No, you mean something now, you are someone to him now, a person that he can’t help but care for. And maybe even love, that is if he knew what that truly felt like, is this it?

But what of you?

You’d be a filthy liar if you said this Witcher didn’t tug at your heart strings like he does so freely without even knowing it. He has wonderfully taken you off guard with his hidden tenderness and rough voice that you’ve decided is one of the most alluring sounds you’ve ever heard.

His eyes catch in the light like two shimmering golden coins, the way he asks you for a drink or a piece of bread sends electricity through you. How pathetic, you think, however it is rather nice. And most of all, his body is truly something else, you’ve never seen a man so toned and full of scars. How lucky you were to take his shirt off and keep his wounds from bleeding out, and in those hours after, he looked rather peaceful as he slept.

If only you could have joined him, felt his touch, been the one who he wanted more then the bread you’ve given him. But he is just a Witcher, he will leave and life will presume as it had been before either of you had met. He’ll become just another lost tragedy of your past, another loved one gone, never to be seen again.

He is just a Witcher you fool.

You frown now, your gaze focused on the small hearth as you sit by the fire, poking it with a metal stick as your thoughts drift to better days long gone, taken so suddenly and without so much as a sorry from who did it.

“Y/N.”

Your eyes stare vacantly into the beautifully glowing embers, you hear nothing but the sparks of flame crackling on wood.

“Y/N.”

A whisper perhaps, you can’t tell, you’re so lost into your own head at this point nothing but the fire matters to you.

Without warning a gentle hand is placed on your shoulder causing you to jump and drop the metal stick onto the stone fireplace with a loud clatter. Your eyes dart for the one who touches you as your heart beats heavily inside your chest.

Instead of a petty thief come to slay you, is the soft comforting eyes of Geralt, “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Apologizes the Witcher as he sits down next to you, offering half of his huge warm blanket.

You oblige without a second thought and let him drape it over your back while he then scoots closer so that your crossed knee is touching his. You give him the flash of a sad smile before drifting your dreary gaze back to the glowing hearth.

“Thank you for sharing, winter is cold after all and this cabin isn’t the most insulated of places.” You add, a low drone in your voice much unlike your usual lively self that he’s grown to love.

Furrowing his grey brows, Geralt studies your half illuminated face in the firelight, the only real source of light since the sun has gone down hours ago. “I figured you needed the company, and a blanket. I can almost of see my breath.” He says with a small chuckle though you barley acknowledge his very presence.

“Y/N?” He whispers, nudging your leg with his, “I haven’t spoken of it before but if I may ask, what happened to your hand?”

You look down to your left hand opposite of where Geralt is sitting, you hide it from the light though it is covered with a white cloth and your long sleeves. He is very observant isn’t he?

“Nothing important. I got it when fighting those damn soldiers before I saw you. It’s almost all healed up.” You whisper, “No need to think about it anymore.”

The room stays silent for another couple minutes before he finally speaks once again in that low gruff voice of his, “What troubles you?” He asks much to your surprise, maybe he is too observant for his own good.

“Many things.” You mutter quietly, turning your face to find his concerned gaze, a small smile on your lips to lessen his doubts, “Don’t worry my dear Witcher, you’re not one of them. And I’d rather not give you my burdens, they are not a fun little adventure like the ones you’ve told me about.”

“Neither are all of mine.” He speaks truthfully, staring deep into your saddened eyes, “I would be honored to comfort you of such miseries if you still want me near after.”

You look to the floor, biting your lip at this almost intimate news even if he only means to speak words of ease to you. Why not? What is there to lose if you tell him why you feel so full of melancholy.

Raising your eyes back up to his, you take a deep heavy sigh before looking back into the fire, “I had a good life. I really did, I had a mother and a brother. But that was all taken from me when those bastards plundered and beat their way into my peoples lands. Looting and killing as they went, what could I do huh...my family was in their way.” You admit with a hidden rage that just about causes the flames to glow brighter.

“They came into our village and began to burn everything they could, they ran into houses and stole away valuables untouched by the desolation yet. They took and killed my neighbors and friends, women and children, screaming infants.”

You pause for a moment, eyes welled up with unshed tears as you find your voice, “They burst through our door and pulled us three from our house before we could even react. Then those fuckers killed the only person who ever showed me true kindness and love, she didn’t deserve to die that way Geralt, she didn’t. Then again none of them did.”

“I can’t imagine.” Whispers Geralt sincerely, understanding how much it pains you to speak of your mother like this.

“For that,” You seethe out darkly, “I killed my first soldier that day, but of course they didn’t like that, not at all. Soon they held me down and beat me bloody like I was a fucking dog, if it wasn’t for my brother who stopped them. I’d be dead, he saved my life that day, helped me escape and I never looked back.” You swallow thickly as a lone tear slides down your cheek, “I haven’t seen him since, and I dare not think of how he met his end. It just fills me with rage and then...as you can see, I get like this.”

“Best not to linger in the darkness for too long.” Admits Geralt, his eyes truthful and honest as he takes you all in, “I wouldn’t want to lose you.”

Breaking out into a crooked smile you blink more tears away as he moves an inch closer, “I already feel gone some days. I’m not a good person Geralt, I’m dangerous.” Your voice his raspy and soft now as the feel of the room appears to take a shift somewhere you’re not so sure of. Dangerous? Y/N he has no idea.

The Witcher’s lips curl into a pleasant smile as his face keeps mere inches from your own, “I like dangerous.” Whispers Geralt before his plush lips pull you into a new world of warmth and fire. He moves against your mouth, taking his time as the two of you find a comfortable rhythm. Well, this is nice.

He tastes as sweet as the apples you gave him for dinner and all the better to draw you away from your darkness as he showers you in his intoxicating light. You can’t believe how gentle and passionate he feels against you now and it’s only his lips!

You could stay like this forever but soon enough he pulls away, resting a calloused hand against your knee, “Forgive me I should have asked.”

“Don’t be a fool, I was thinking it too. And anyways you kept your word.”

“Did I?” Wonders Geralt, brows furrowed in confusion.

You smirk, “Remember? You said you’d comfort me of my miseries? Are you still planning on doing that...just a simple question really you don’t have to look so lost.”

Breaking out of his frumpled gaze he finally gives you a handsome smile, “How could I forget?”

“Well it was pretty traumatic so.” You deadpan with a dark humored snort before Geralt leans in to capture your lips once more.

The next morning you wake from the warm comfort of the cabins large single bed, an equally as warm arm covering half your face as you feel a large body pressed firmly against your side. Your hair lays free and unkept around your face as well, and you already know your naked underneath this soft blanket and snoozing man next to you.

His breaths are slow as he stirs in his slumber, pulling you in even closer as his arm now finds itself against your one free breast. You giggle quietly at the situation, how awkward it would be if someone was to burst forth from those doors and find you both in the nude like this. Ha, let them try.

Apparently you’re not as subtle as you’d thought, Geralt awakens before sucking in a deep breath as he stirs slightly, suddenly freezing in place once he realizes his hand is practically squeezing your boob.

You chuckle, moving your hand to keep it there, “You’re surprisingly a cuddlier, who would have thought?” You jest humorously.

“Uh....yes.” Mutters Geralt awkwardly as you smile, though he can’t see it.

Noticing his change of behavior you realize he doesn’t really know what to do about your boldness so you help him out by shifting yourself to face him. “With how well you were treating me last night I would have thought my breast would feel quite nice in your hand. Have I misinterpreted?”

He smiles, a small dusting of pink finding its way onto his chiseled features, “I find it important to respect you first Y/N, this is still...new.”

Biting your lip you lean in close to place a gentle kiss against his soft lips, “I enjoy your touch, you’re something that I believe I’ve been missing for a long while. Maybe we were meant to find each other and you not kill me.”

He chuckles a sweet sound that fills you with pure joy, “And you to heal me, I don’t feel much pain anymore.”

You smirk, rolling your eyes as you graze your hand down his face and arm, “I healed you enough about six days ago, I know you were just milking it since.”

“No I wasn’t...”

“Oh shut it, I think it was a clever idea to get in my pants if that was your plan.”

He fake scoffs, “That wasn’t the plan Y/N.”

“Then what was the plan? Oh wait,” You move yourself even closer to him, lips just barely touching, “Witcher’s don’t have plans, they just flatter and hope for the best.”

His strong arm holds you close as you rest your hand on his shoulder, “Maybe so.” Whispers Geralt before pressing his lips to yours.

Soon enough you find yourself pinned down to the bed, a very hot and visibly happy Geralt deep inside you as you try and keep yourself from screaming to loud. You can’t help how big and beautiful and so very large he is, and anyways he looks like a man on the edge of paradise. Who are you to deprive your new lover of his high?

Geralt does admittedly feel blessed against you if you’re being completely honest, the way he thrusts deeply into your womanhood like a man deprived of such pleasantries, or maybe the way your name falls onto his sweet lips when he feels his weakest. You can’t tell for sure, but he may be in love with just as much as you are with him and that is a promising thought. Or is it?

With an almost whiny moan do you finally come, the pleasure built up after such a ride releasing at long last. Sending a wave of euphoria throughout your entire vessel causing your slick walls to clench around Geralt’s hard cock as he continues to relentlessly pump into you.

Soon you can feel a hot warmness pooling into you as your Witcher grunts in satisfaction while his length twitches inside you, painting your walls with his seed like the skilled artist that he is.

Hovering just above your sweaty and very naked form does he smile kindly before leaning down to capture your swollen lips with his own. He bucks his hips into you a couple times more as he enjoys the feeling of making you squirm underneath him. Completely surrendering all that you are to him, though he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t doing the same with you.

Laying flush against you, his body still between your sore legs he pulls away from your pouting lips to lean his arms against your face. Soon another kiss is stolen, then another and another as he gently presses his lips to your cheek. Then jaw, where he decides to stay and attack for awhile which causes you to chuckle at his adorable-ness.

“You need new clothes.” You practically moan as he playfully bites your jaw, kissing that spot just as quickly.

“It’s warm in here.” Mutters Geralt against your hot skin, “Nothing is as interesting as you.”

You bite back another moan, “We need food.”

He smirks against your neck, rolling his hips to try and sway your mind, “But you’re delicious enough Y/N.” Oh this man.

Breathing heavily you do your best to fight off your growing arousal, “Geralt.” You warn through clenched teeth, hands leaving red marks down his back as you playfully threaten him.

He kisses your cheek once more as a sly hand squeezes your firm breast, “Fine. Let me make love to you first then we can go.” States Geralt against your lips as he suddenly gives you three deep slow thrusts that send you into another realm of pleasure.

#the witcher #the witcher x reader #the witcher x you #the witcher x y/n #geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt x you #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia x y/n #henry cavill #geralt x y/n

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inks-books · 3 years ago

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Chapter Titles tag game

Rules: List the chapter names for your WIP(s)

Love Triangle Gone Wrong:

Chapter 1: Prick Chapter 2: And There Was Only One Bathroom Chapter 3: Family and Peppermint Chapter 4: The Three L's Chapter 5: Two Pricks and a Halfwit Chapter 6: The Wolf and the Mountain Lion Chapter 7: Trouble with a Capital T Chapter 8: Her Emails! Chapter 9: High As A Kite Chapter 10: Books, Beans, and Candles Chapter 11: Once Upon a December Chapter 12: Thanksgiving Traditions Chapter 13: Trust Chapter 14: Drunken Confessions Chapter 15: ?

Curiosity Killed the Elf:

Lesson 1: Never Trust Inanimate Objects Lesson 2: Shiny Objects Aren't Always Your Friend Lesson 3: Sailors Make Great Party Guests Lesson 4: And I Would Have Gotten Away With It Too If It Weren't For That Damned Chicken! Lesson 5: The Plot Chickens Lesson 6: Sometimes There's Only One Bed Lesson 7: Never Tickle Sleeping Dragons Lesson 8: Sometimes Shiny Objects Were Your Friends

I tag: @authorlaurawinter @shineywrites, @kashacreates, and @lyralit! And any of my followers who see this and want to do it. I've v lazy at tagging people and I'm /sorry/

#tag game #LTGW #CKE #original writing #original stories #original books #inks writes #Please feel free to ask me about any of these :CRINE:

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laundryandtaxes · 4 years ago

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Stuff like that is wicked interesting to me because I often wonder about the internal experience of prey animals in particular, especially in the context of being someone who sometimes hunts animals. Fear is a thing that I think almost all animals experience but it really seems that it requires some general understanding of potential to be physically harmed or even killed, and that's extremely conceptual imo. When a deer fawn sees a coyote, the fawn obviously runs away, and I think a lot of people assume that is just instinct but I don't think that is true, because even prey animals regularly exhibit curiosity and don't just run from any ole thing. The last time I discussed it with someone else she said she imagined they were just experiencing a very primal urge to run away, but I think they experience real fear in a way that is probably very similar to how we do- I'm afraid of that thing, and that thing is capable of causing me serious bodily harm. Which requires that animals have a concept of soooo many things- their body as something that can be damaged, the desire of a mountain lion to eat it, and maybe even their life as something that can be ended. For instance, someone on my favorite hunting show once remarked that he knew many people his age that had never seen a dead person, but he could be fairly certain every deer he was watching had seen another deer die. It just drives me crazy thinking about what their experience is like because I'm sure it is both strikingly similar to mine and different in ways I probably can't even conceive of, any more than a brown bear can conceive of student debt.

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philliamwrites · 4 years ago

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The Dawn Will Come [Chpt.4]

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses

Pairing: Dimitri x Reader, Claude x Reader, Edelgard x Reader, Yuri x Reader, Edelgard x Byleth, lots of minor pairings

Tags: #gn reader, # platonic love byleth & reader, #reader is a tactical unit, #angst, #slow burn, #subplots, #unreliable narrator, #pining, #remporary amnesia, #reluctant herp, #canon divergence, #lost twin au, #many chapters, #original content

Words: 7.7k

Summary: Waking up in a forest without any knowledge of your past and who you are, you join the house leaders of the Officers Academy to search for a way to return your memories. Unfortunately, the church has different plans for you, and Fate places you in the centre of a cruel game with deadly stakes. It certainly doesn’t help to fall in love with a house leader who is doomed to be your demise.

Notes: Chapter 3 | Chapter 5

Chapter 04: Demands of the Faithful

I stretch lame hands of faith, and grope, And gather dust and chaff, and call To what I feel is Lord of all, And faintly trust the larger hope.

[Alfred, Lord Tennyson, In Memoriam A.H.H.]

“I’m glad you could make time,” Byleth says, carefully placing her fine cup on the small bottom plate. If she notices how uncomfortable you feel, sitting in the centre of the yard, drinking tea, she ignores it. “Let’s think together about what we want to teach during the mock battle.”

“This is a bad idea,” you say, nibbling on your cup. “A very bad idea.”

The late afternoon hours are quiet, but it certainly helps that the tea arrangement is tugged away in a far off corner in the courtyard, hidden behind tall hedges that allow privacy. The sweet smell of chamomile tea and strawberry pastry is a nice exchange from the usual savoury smells you’re used to in the cafeteria. All around you, the high, spiky roofs of the monastery’s towers stand out against the fiery, orange sky, throwing longer and longer shadows as the sun sets behind the mountains. The clouds are soft, pink cotton-candy, blushing at the warm touch of the sun.

“I think it’s a good idea,” Byleth continues, cutting through a piece of cake with her fork. “We’ve seen what the house leaders are capable of. It’s time to see what the rest of the students can do.”

“Don’t take me wrong. I think a mock battle will help them grow,” you agree. “I just don’t really understand why it’s me who has to lead the Blue Lions.”

“I think Professor Hanneman is not present at the day of the mission,” Byleth explains. “It seems on the last day of Lone Moon he always leaves the monastery for a private reason. And I assume Lady Rhea means to see the extent of your power.”

That’s what you expected as well. In the last couple of days you realised your power is a muscle, to be exercised daily, never to be pushed to the extreme. It was a strenuous task to try out how much is too much; where there’s still room. Under the keen eyes of Hanneman, you two practised day after day, trying to figure out how much your body can take before exhaustion sweeps over you and renders you immobile. Crests usually don’t have a limit; depending on their nature they grant a permament boost to the bearer’s abilities. Muttering under his breath, Hanneman had made quite a show to remind you what a curiosity the Crest of the Herald is. Like you wouldn’t know.

“Since we’re going to be on the field as well, you might want to get more practice with the sword,” Byleth proposes, and you groan. She has a way of being brutally honest, and so far no one’s been spared to get the brunt of it. “I’m not letting my students hold back. Not even against you.”

“You really are a voice of confidence, you know.” Shoulders drooping like someone took the wind from your sails, you throw your head back and drink the rest of your tea. Byleth’s expression doesn’t change, and you wonder why you even try being funny around her.

After clearing the table, Byleth accompanies you to your next lesson hall. It’s nice in theory, but her vigorous way of trying to drill sword techniques into your head on the way doesn’t hide her true agenda. Only slowly, you begin to realise that is maybe her way of caring for someone. Brutish in appearance, but once you look past the first impression of indifference, Byleth’s silent demeanour speaks louder than words.

Students linger in small groups in front of the class rooms, their exhausted faces from a full day of lessons and hard training visible in the way they carry their bodies. If you had a say in it, you’d cancel the evening lessons and let them rest; a reoccurring debate inside the faculty that doesn’t go anywhere. Byleth stops in front of the class room, surveying the students with a cool gaze, when suddenly Claude and Hilda jog towards you, and by “jogging” they decided Hilda to be the only one running while carrying Claude bridal style like he weighs nothing. As they pass you, Claude tips an invisible hat in your direction, calling “Hey, teach,” and then immediately “Bye, teach!” as they cross the courtyard.

Your gaze follows them. “What just happened.”

Byleth doesn’t even bother to look. “Claude and Hilda happened.”

Heavens, you don’t know if you’re able to handle them later.

After exchanging goodbyes with Byleth, you tackle the next forty minutes with a belly full of sweets and a mind occupied with worrying about everything you might do wrong next week. Forming two groups, you hand out two different manoeuvres you dug out of books, and present the task, “Work out the pros and cons of each battle tactic, and present them to the class. Explain where you would have done things differently, and why.”

Sylvain raises his hand.

“Yes, you can leave to bathroom breaks without asking me,” you say.

Sylvain drops his hand. Then raises it again.

“No, you can’t bring animals you find on your way back to your seat,” you say.

He drops his hand. Beside him, Ingrid fails to stifle a groan.

Twenty minutes later, the first group stands in front of the class. Mercedes’s steady hand draws the perfect copy of the manoeuvre on the chalk board while Annette recites every step flawlessly. They’re a powerful combination, and that’s only half owed to their friendship. Mercedes is soft; she’s the silk hiding the dagger that Annette’s sharp mind is. There’s strength in kindness, and both have honed this ability to a razor-sharp weapon. There’s still a pouch of unfinished cookies Mercedes has baked for you left in your room, something to keep in mind for the next tea hour with Byleth. Felix and Dedue don’t add much, and you’re a little afraid to ask, seeing how Felix’s eyes burn holes in the back of Dedue’s head. There’s been rumours going on about a dispute, but no details, and you gladly leave that sort of teacher-student business to Hanneman.

The remaining students do their job almost just as good. But the thought of children being so confident in ways of war and killing leaves a painful twinge in your chest. You wonder what will become of them all in a few years, what battles they will win. What battles they will lose—this fear lingers at the edges of your consciousness like an ever-present shadow. To push it away, you try to refocus on the task at hand.

“Look at the battalions you have,” you advise, tapping a finger against the cool surface of the board. It comes away white with chalk, leaving a white smudge on your robe as you wipe it off. “Where are they placed?”

Ashe clears his throat. “Two Lance Soldiers, that’s Infantry. One Magic Squadron, also Infantry. The latter is stationed far northeast on that island. Two Pegasus Corpses, which are Flying Types. We put them behind the mountains to ambush the enemies on their way to one of our Infantries.”

“A good idea in theory,” you acknowledge, and don’t miss how Ashe exhales in relief. “And where are you enemies?”

“They’re facing our Infantry and the Squadron,” Dimitri steps in now. “The Flying Unit engage from the back. After their victory, Infantry and Flying close the last opposite unite off on the bridge, and join the Magic Squadron in fighting.”

“Okay, okay,” you nod. “And now look at the terrain of this last unit you want to take on from the front and back. The one on the bridge moving towards the Squadron.”

The room is quiet for a minute, and then a silent “Oh” from Ashe.

“Yes. Oh. The Magic Squadron moves slower through the woods. You’ll lose them. And one of the Lance units is probably the next to go.” You draw sharp lines across the board with red chalk, changing the battalion’s movements. One goes across the whole board, crossing out the word Sea. “Wouldn’t it be smarter to have your Pegasus Companies move this way across the water, join the Magic Squadron and then close in from the right to join the Infantries?”

“But Herald.” Ingrid raises her hand, but doesn’t wait for you to pick her. “If Infantry and Flying take out the first enemy, we’ll still win. The remaining unit will be trapped on the island without a possibility to retreat. Wouldn’t it be wiser to sacrifice the Magic Squadron just for that?”

“I agree with Ingrid,” says Sylvain. He’s sitting on a desk, and swings his legs back and forth. “With or without them, we won the battle, and that’s what matters.”

You turn back to scan the manoeuvre one more time. They’re right—blocking the enemy’s escape routes off proves a solid guarantee to win, and yet you’ve somewhat hoped they wouldn’t settle on this option. There’s a bitter taste in your mouth, turning your lips upside down as if you’ve bitten into a lemon.

“Sometimes, you don’t want to win the battle,” you start slowly, the thought blossoming from a dark place deep inside you. “Sometimes you want as many as possible to live.” Which is easier said than done, and no one in the room agrees on your statement because they know just as much that such a choice isn’t always granted. Before the silence stretches on too long, you quickly add, “I guess it is more important to know there is no right or wrong answer. You make decisions later on that will either grant you victory or death, and you will have to live with those decisions.”

Unanimous murmur sounds from the students, a topic nobody wants to dwell on too long, and you grant them that wish; this precious little time they’re still allowed to be children and make mistakes before responsibilities catch up to them. The rest of the lesson flies past without disturbances, and when the bells announce the break, they jump from their seats and scurry outside.

“Don’t forget there’s going to be a test after the mock battle,” you call after them, knowing they’ll forget anyway and then boycott. The Lions are finally done with lessons, but there is the Deer House who have the misfortune to attend the last period of the day. As you prepare their unit of instruction on different terrains, Dimitri approaches you, his expression a mixture between confidence and tension.

“Herald.” He stops in front of your desk, shoulders squared into a declaration of deference. “I have prepared instructions on everyone’s weaknesses and strengths. Please, do consider to take a look. Since one of the rules is that only six units will be stationed on the field, I hope this will make your decision easier who to choose.” Placing the papers with outmost care on your table, Dimitri hesitates a moment before continuing, “What you said earlier … truth be told, I think the same. To limit the loss of lives as much as possible should be a priority to a leader as well. To hear that from someone like you … I was quite glad.”

“Someone like me,” you repeat, but you’re more surprised to feel your fingers itch to take the papers and get a first read on everyone. After going through similar notes from Linhardt, you’re now excited to learn more about your proteges, and with luck someone from the Golden Deer students might provide you with a first survey as well.

“Someone responsible for tactics and strategy,” Dimitri quickly clarifies. “Someone tasked with bringing absolute victory.” He gives you a look that is somehow both caressing and calculating at the same time. “I understand that those sometimes compete with one’s own beliefs regarding the value of life. One’s conscience is as much of a weapon as a sharpened blade. If it breaks, what use is there to a person.”

“Those are … some mature thoughts.” You don’t know where this observation goes. Of course he is mature, he has to be as the successor of a noble lineage. “For someone your age.” You press your mouth into a thin line, cursing your inability to think of a better response. But Dimitri simply smiles—a smile that is like a light suddenly being turned on in every room of a dark house.

“Oh, but I do not want to bore you with such matters. I just wanted to add, I really do look forward to have you on our side during the mock battle.” He gives a little courtesy bow. “Let us discuss the details on the day before the mission. A good evening to you, Herald.”

Dimitri leaves with a little bounce to his step. It’s probably better he’s in high spirits, even though you aren’t sure what exactly made him happy. It would be a real shame to extinguish his excitement by being an utter failure during the battle, so you make sure to read whatever he managed to put together about his classmates as soon as possible. There’s still some minutes left before the first Deer students will enter. Exhaustion lulls you into resting your eyes, and the moment your head is cradled in your arms, you doze off.

It’s the third time you have this dream after joining the Officer’s Academy, though calling it a ‘dream’ is a stretch—there is nothing happening, nothing to see. Only white, as pure and unblemished as a young lily blossom in early spring. Only this time this picture—maybe a memory, but of what or where you can’t say—is different.

Wake up, a voice whispers, barely recognisable and dull, spoken behind a wall of water. Wake up.

Your hands weigh a ton. Unable to reach out and grasp it, the dream blurs, slipping through your fingers like sand.

Wake up.

“Herald, wake up,” Claude persists. “You’re drooling on my test papers.”

His hand brushes your shoulder and you jump, all focus on the dream dispersing. Multiple voices fill the room in a shower of sounds, not helping to regain your senses of where you are. It doesn’t help that your right eye throbs dully, and as you rub it to somehow reduce the sensation, white spots dance across your vision.

“So sorry, Herald,” Claude smirks with his hand still hovering over your shoulder. “Didn’t mean to wake you from your beauty rest, but Hilda planned to draw obscene things on your face, and we can’t have that now, can we.”

“Liars never prosper, Claude!” comes Hilda’s response from somewhere in the back of the room. You groan, narrowing your eyes at him. Going back to sleep and stumbling about to try and figure out what’s going on sounds more pleasing than dealing with Claude’s shenanigans.

“Man, what a bummer you won’t join our House during the mock battle,” he continues as if Hilda hasn’t said anything. “If someone asked me, I think to have you fight for the Blue Lions is cheating.”

“But no one asked you?” you offer, indulging him with a weak smile.

“The audacity, right?” Claude rolls his eyes towards the ceiling, leaning against the teacher’s desk. “Just imagine the brilliant schemes we two could work out. Oh, I have an amazing idea. How about you ask Lady Rhea—”

“I’m not asking to be by your side during the battle.”

“Ouch.” Claude places a hand over his chest, right above his heart. “Immediately shut down. Who knew our dearest Herald would be such a heart breaker.”

You shoo him away, not only because he’s getting on your nerves, but there’s also Ignatz and Raphael standing in line, waiting for your attention.

“We’ve heard the students from the other Houses gave you some insight in their abilities,” Ignatz says, tugging a stack of papers to his chest. “We decided to give you one as well.”

“I’m sure you’ll like them,” Raphael chimes in, looking more excited than usual. “I gave Ignatz instructions on how to make our report the best. Forget boring words, Herald, we’ve prepared the real deal!” He rips the papers from Ignatz’s hands and slams them on your table. A crack sounds on the underside, and Raphael leans his whole weight upon the surface, completely oblivious to the protesting creak of the wood.

“Here, we started with Claude, since he’s the big shot and all that,” he explains, opening the first page. It shows Claude, a surprisingly accurate portrait of him, if not a little bit scrawny. He’s wielding a bow, nocking multiple arrows. Seems like Raphael wasn’t the only one giving instructions.

“And here is Leonie, and there’s Lorenz, and oh! That’s us working together as a team!” Raphael beams as he turns the page. In this picture, everyone is assembled, fighting against angry looking soldiers and horned monsters. There’s Lysithea and Marianne shooting lightning bolts from their hands, zapping their opponents. Raphael is carrying a huge stone, on top of it stands Hilda, wielding a mighty axe.

“These are the most accurate file reports I’ve seen,” you say for lack of better words. “It really is a shame I can’t join you for the mock battle.”

“There’s gonna be a next time, no worries!” Raphael gives you a thumbs up, then retreats to his seat, Ignatz by his side. They’re a funny duo, not just because of their different build. Their personalities seem the complete opposite, and yet strangely fit like a child’s box to sort blocks into the right shapes.

The difference between the Golden Deers and Blue Lions, for one, is the noise level. Instead of waiting for you to call them up one by one, they love to shout answers whenever they see fit. Judging who was the first isn’t really easy when four people scream at the same time, so you’ve given up on that—Claude’s policy whoever screams loudest didn’t help all too much as well. Maybe it’s time to ask Byleth about some tips how to handle them. When the bell tolls for the last time for this day, announcing everyone to be relieved of their work, the student clear out faster than during fire drills, leaving you with a turmoil of thoughts and worries and two little voices bickering about how much of a disaster next week is going to be.

After seven days and nights of restless sleep and vigorous training under the vicious supervision of Byleth, the green fields stretching before you end boarding on lush woods, its treetops protruding into the sky. It’s a wonderful day you would enjoy much more without knowing this is a battle field, and the people behind you wait for your command.

“Black Eagle and Golden Deer are in position. Captain Jeralt said the mock battle begins in roughly ten minutes.” Dedue gives you an expectant look, and you give him a curt nod, your mouth dry.

“Thanks. We’ll have a last briefing. After that, we’ll deploy our units.”

Dedue joins his classmates, leaving you to your troubled thoughts. With luck, none of your opponents will reach you, and you won’t have to fight. It’s as if you can feel Byleth’s taste for your blood all across the field, even though right now she’s just a blurry, dark blob in the distance, surrounded by her students.

“Do not worry, Herald.” The hard metal of a gauntlet on your shoulder makes you flinch, backing away from Dimitri. The worry on his face is a mirror of your own, albeit for different reasons. “Everyone will do their best to follow your orders, and fight with everything they've got. Your leadership will lead us to victory.”

“Oh, yeah!” You don’t meet his eyes. “For sure.” Zero pressure and all that. You don’t say that, seeing that most of the students don’t appear to be as nervous as you. Confidence is key, and even though you see none of it in tangible proximity, you can at least fake it until you make it.

Six minutes left. With a deep breath, you try to get hold of yourself, and face the Lions.

“Since we don’t know who will be deployed by Manuela and Byleth, prepare for everything. I want to split the group. Dimitri, Dedue and Mercedes move to the northern forest. Felix, Sylvain, you’re moving west with me.”

Felix pulls a grimace, but before he can say anything, Sylvain throws an arm around his shoulders and leans on him, gracing you with a full grin. “We got your back, Herald.” He earns a whack on his back from his friend.

“Why are we splitting up if our plan is to take out each group separately?” Dedue inquirers. “Isn’t that what we agreed on before?”

“I think the Herald plans to let our opponents think we plan on taking them both on at the same time.” Dimitri throws a quick glance at you. “We’ll draw them in our direction, and once they are near, we close in from both sides.”

You nod. “Precisely. We know the Black Eagles will start far north from us. The Golden Deers are northwest. As soon as one of them moves towards us, we’ll have to defeat them immediately. It will be easier fighting one House, not both at the same time.”

“Look at you, Your Highness.” Sylvain pats him on the shoulder, looking proud. “Someone’s been paying attention in class!”

“Sylvain—” Dimitri’s chiding meets deaf ears as Sylvain already turns away, checking his lance for a last time. But he does beam a little, you think. Or maybe it’s just the sun making everything look much brighter. It’ll go into your report nonetheless. Chances of a victory look good—even if you have to retreat, the Blue Lions might make it on their own.

The bressy sound of a horn echoes across the valley, reverberating in your bones. The mock battle begins.

The weight of the wooden training sword hanging from your hip is foreign; it’s as though you only expect to trip over it. Determined to keep it in its holster, you approach the grove, flanked by Sylvain and Felix—and not a minute too soon. Moving towards you is the first line of enemies, Ignatz, Lorenz and Marianne.

“I think they didn’t see us—” Sylvain starts just as the first arrow flies past his head and hits the trunk beside him with a thunk. For safety purposes, all arrow’s tips are wrapped up in stiff cloth, not intended to leave permanent wounds but surely still capable to deliver nasty bruises like the training swords and lances.

“I think they saw us—” Sylvain’s brilliant new observation ends in a yelp as Felix shoves him out of the line of fire.

“Get down, dumbass!”

You three duck behind bushes and trees, cautiously observing how the others advance, their weapons drawn.

“I’ll go for Ignatz,” you say. “Felix, you’re fast enough to reach Marianne and take her down before she starts healing everyone.”

“Fine, we’ll try your plan.” Felix has his sword drawn already, gripping it tight enough his knuckles turn white. “Try not to get kicked out too soon, will you.”

You blow a strand of hair from out of your eyes, squinting at his back as he jumps out of cover. The last couple of weeks you’ve put in some extra hours of sword practice with Felix. As an exceptional swordsman, noble and diligent in his training unlike anyone else—safe maybe for Dimitri—you imagined no one could teach you as much as possible in the short amount of time until the mission. It took some convincing, but the decisive argument that sold him was your desire to become better to finally have at least a chance against Byleth. If she is stern during practice, Felix is vicious, exploiting the tiniest opening you give in order to make you learn from your mistakes. Your body was a medley of pain and aches after every evening, but now the memory of that very same melody is your marching song towards battle. Then there’s always the knowledge that if you three can distract them long enough before the rest of the Golden Deer students arrive, Dimitri and the rest will close in on your position, and taking down your opponents won’t be difficult.

“Sylvain, Lorenz is yours.”

He answers with a simple salute, grip tight around his training lance, and as you both follow Felix out in the open, an image flickers before you, there and gone like a flame going out with a last glint. An arrow, headed straight at you. Your body moves in instinct, dodging the projectile not a second too late. Judging from the direction of its origin, Ignatz must be just beyond the rocks only a few hundred yards away. You throw a MiasmaΔ in his direction, the black ball carving its path across the grasslands. It hits the stone, chipping parts away and revealing Ignatz, crouching behind it. He looks up, dirt on his cheeks, and adjusts his glasses before ducking out of his cover, another arrow already ready on his bow.

Another arrow hits him on his back, hard enough to get him down on his knees. Mercedes’ accuracy isn’t as good as Ashe’s, but the determination carved into her face makes up for lack of skill. Dimitri and Dedue are right on her heels, but a single look thrown over your shoulder shows that Felix and Sylvain have everything under control. Coming out victorious as well, save for Sylvain pressing a hand against his ribs, they were still complete. The knowledge of that makes you sigh in relief, a new surge of hope soaring inside you.

“I knew we shouldn’t have listened to Claude’s dubious plan.” Lorenz’s bickering is still audible, even as the three proceed to leave the battle grounds to meet up with Jeralt. You’re really curious to see what exactly Claude had in mind, but diverting your focus for just a second could become dangerous. Instead, you turn towards the students.

“Stay close,” you order, waiting until Mercedes is finished checking Sylvain's injuries. “We’re going to move further towards the Golden Deers and eliminate them first.” Flexing your fingers against the slow growth of getting used casting spells, your group begins to move further north.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Dimitri buckling and unbuckling his spear from his back. Out of lack for the right words, and because the first rush of adrenaline still courses through your body, you jostle against him, wearing a grin on your face.

“Look lively, Your Highness,” you advise. “All that nervous fumbling isn’t what a leader is supposed to do.”

A tiny gasps leaves him, more an exhale than anything else, but he turns towards you, slightly flushed. Bringing his hands to his sides, it’s too obvious he’s tensing his body so they don’t stray again—like a statue that’s on the edge of shattering at the tiniest movement.

“You’re right, of course.” He lowers his head a little. “I just keep thinking that the Black Eagle students wait for us in that direction as well. Some are surely moving towards us as we speak.”

“Are you worried about Byleth?” you wonder, and more as an afterthought add, “Or Edelgard?”

“Anyone who is not worried about Byleth is a fool, if you ask me,” he replies with a crease between his pale eyebrows. “And well, this is our first chance to prove ourselves, being the heirs to the ruling factions. I know Edelgard is exceptionally strong. And Claude surely has an ace up his sleeve. You are right, Herald. Nervousness is a sign of hesitation, of weakness. I will be better than that.” A new fire comes alive in his eyes as he strides onward, catching up to Mercedes and Sylvain to compliment her on the excellent shot from before.

The epiphany really comes only now, fast and hard like a lightning bolt, that these children will drink in everything you have to offer—advices, orders, simple words of encouragement—simply for the title that is strapped around your neck. The weight of that responsibility slows your steps, which allows for another worry to quickly catch up: has everything you have taught them so far been right? Do they really know how to exploit the advantages certain classes have over others; will a strategic retreat even occur to them in the right time before it’s too late.

Doubt is like poison, slowly eating you from the inside. This mock battle won’t just be a lesson for the students. It will also test if you have put them on the right path, and the realisation unfolds a new conviction inside you, breathing new wind into your sails.

You quickly catch up to them, another rush of encouraging words on your lips when another image flickers on and off, painting your sight red. You freeze, raising an arm, hand formed into a fist.

“Halt!” you shout, processing what you just saw. The students pause, forming a loose circle around you. The throbbing from before settles back in, more persistent now like someone’s knocking against the back of your skull to get your attention. You try to ignore that and focus on categorising every student’s ability in alphabetical order.

“Linhardt,” you gasp, eyes wide open and glued on Dedue.

The students exchange worried glances. Sylvain is the first to speak. “No, Herald,” he says. “Linhardt’s the pretty boy with all the books, you know. Who sleeps just about anywhere, like a cat. That’s our Dedue here.”

“No, I mean Linhardt has Nosferatu,” you quickly explain, flailing your hands in hope to express yourself better. It doesn’t look like it helps. “Linhardt is the only one left who can use Nosferatu, and he’s going to land a good hit on Dedue. And with good, I mean bad. If he hits you, you’re down, Dedue.” Because only that makes sense, as Marianne is already standing on the sidelines and you haven’t heard about anyone else learning the skill. Undoubtedly a Nosferatu will hit Dedue if you don’t change course or take the spell caster out first.

Dedue steps forward. “Should it give us an advantage against our enemy, I will gladly face the opponent and go down if it means it won’t interfere with our progress towards the Golden Deer students.”

“Sacrificing yourself for a mere praise from the boar, is that what you hope for?” Felix demands, or more like snarls, his handsome face crumpling into an ugly look of contempt. “Pathetic.”

“Sacrifice is a big word to throw around during a mock battle, don’t you think,” Sylvain unhelpfully throws in, his posture a little too relaxed in the light of the conflict that’s about to break out.

Dedue shakes his head. “I am simply fulfilling my duty,” he states. “Anything that will bring His Highness victory.”

“You would also run head first into an ambush and get yourself killed, is that it?” Felix grimaces. “Blindly following orders—”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough!” Your raised voice makes them pause, and you use that second to grab lead of the conversation. “We don’t even know if Linhardt is going to be alone or joined by other Eagle students. What do you think will your little act accomplish, Dedue?”

He sets his mouth into a grim, hard line, unable to come up with a satisfying answer that isn’t a repeat of what he just said.

“You’ll have a tough time going against Black Eagles with all their magic users, so stay with Dimitri. Go and deal with the rest of the Golden Deer students. And you—” You meet Felix’s glare with narrowed eyes. “A battlefield isn’t the place to throw around petty disagreements. You would do well to remember that.”

“Understood.” He rips the training sword from its holster. “But let me go take down that mage. I’ll cut him down swiftly.”

“We’ll go together. I’m not leaving any of you on your own. Take care of Claude,” you tell Dimitri, showing with a nod that you fully trust in his leading ability. “We’ll meet east from the barricades in exactly one hour.”

He doesn’t shy away from you glare. “Understood. Take care you two.”

Felix takes the lead with long, eager strides. As you follow him, you rub your eye, wincing at the pinprick-like pain. The dull throb doesn’t cease this time, and if you had to take a guess, there’s only once left for the Crest to activate before you reach your limit. So far, nothing has helped you to ascertain when exactly a foresight occurs, and leaving it to pure chance is like grasping a loose rope in hopes that it is tied to something somewhere as you take the leap. Maybe Hanneman will make more sense of it laters.

“You should have stayed with the others,” Felix says after a moment, scanning your surroundings for any sign of the enemy. It sounds more like a simple statement than an accusation. “I can handle someone like Linhardt on my own.”

“I said before, we don’t know if he’s alone. I highly doubt it.” It’s like Dimitri said before: Underestimating Byleth will surely end in casualties and defeat. You don’t consider it far-fetched that she has sent a non-magic class with Linhardt, but who that will be is left to be determined.

“No matter how many accompany him. Be it two or three or all of them, I will take them down.”

“It takes more than one person to win a war.” Though you don’t doubt Felix might try it by himself anyway. “You’ll notice soon enough that you will rely on your comrades.”

“I will rely on them as long as they don’t get in my way.”

“So charming,” you mumble to yourself as you two round a mound. It really is none of your business, but you're actually curious about what is going on between him and Dedue. The moment you finish outweighing the pros and cons of trying to go down that rabbit hole, the air around you changes, barely noticeable save for a change of wind—it completely stills for a second, but that is enough to realise what’s happening.

“Felix—” you manage before the Nosferatu explodes in front of you, knocking you to the ground. Before the mock battle, all magicians were instructed to weaken their spells; no lasting damage should befall any of the participants. Only because of that you manage to climb back on your feet, only left with dizziness that makes the world spin. The jarring sound of metal clashing against metal clears your mind a little, and when you turn around, Felix and Ferdinand are clashing blades.

You turn further, and there he is, a hand raised in your direction. “Sorry, Herald,” Linhardt says. He doesn’t sound sorry at all. “The professor threatened with extra homework if we would hold back against you.”

“Of course she did,” you mumble, grabbing your sword with sweaty hands. Two against two is fair, and you have no doubt that Felix will hold his ground against Ferdinand. The only solution to your little problem named Linhardt is to get as close as possible, and make use of your advantage in meagre sword skills.

Another Nosferatu is sent your way, but this time you dodge, the hair on your neck standing on end. Somehow your body automatically shies away from Faith magic like a cat fleeing from water. Just one more hit will surely be enough to throw you out of the mock battle, and you can’t have that, not when the picture of Dimitri’s resolute expression is carved into your mind.

You close the distance, all nerves tensed in anticipation, completely focused on trying to feel where the next spell is going to land. As Linhardt retreats into the woods, his sight obscured by trees, you dive after him, shoving twigs out of your way. A shadow moves through the undergrowth; every muscle in your body locks up, but you plunge forward, sword raised—

Linhardt gasps when he finds himself pressed against a tree, your sword at his throat. With both hands up, he doesn’t move an inch, simply blinking at you. Somewhere above you, a bird cries out; a branch breaks. Linhardt makes a face like he jammed his foot in a door he slammed shut himself.

“I surrender,” he says. “Getting beat up and spending time in the infirmary doesn’t sound as good as reading tomes in the library.”

“You sure?” Your heart beats so loud in your chest, it’s a miracle it doesn’t break through your ribcage and fly off. “Byleth might drown you in homework for that.”

He shrugs. “I call it a strategic retreat. I’ll just have to—” A yawn. “—convince the professor.” Another yawn. You begin to see the ulterior motive behind his surrender. Squinting at him, you proceed to bind his hands with a dark spell. Black shackles appear around his wrists, locking them tight together. As you make your way out of the grove, you hope Felix had the same success.

That thought immediately dies when you return to the plain and see Jeralt heaving an unconscious Felix on the back of his horse, a battered Ferdinand by his side.

“Ah, Herald.” Even though beaten up black and blue, Ferdinand still manages a smile. It looks a little lopsided with his swollen cheek and the dried blood on his upper lip. “I don’t mean to offend, but I hope you return because Linhardt defeated you in mighty combat?” A second too late he sees the magic binds around Linhardt’s wrists. His face falls. “My, Linhardt.”

“You don’t quite look so good yourself,” Linhardt throws back without any heat in his voice. He sounds rather bored. Tired.

“Excuse me, but what happened. What’s wrong with Felix?” you ask, turning to Jeralt. Before he can answer, Ferdinand chimes in, “He fought splendidly! Though I had no doubt in that, he is a noble after all. Yet, after ringing me to the ground, he lost consciousness. By my honour as the heir of House Aegir, I cannot take advantage of that. We both shall step out of battle.”

“He passed out?” Now that you take a good look at him, he’s still pale, unhealthily so. Slick sweat glues his dark hair to his forehead, and the skin beneath his eyes shimmers slightly blue—lack of sleep.

“Overexertion, I guess,” Jeralt says now. He pulls Linhardt to his side, and gives his shackles a thoughtful look. “I’ll take these three with me. You go and continue the mock battle, Herald.”

“But…” It doesn’t feel right to leave Felix alone. Even though he technically isn’t, you imagine it would be better to wake up to a friendly face.

“He’ll be fine.” Jeralt gives you a strange sideway glance. “The other brats rely on you right now, don’t they? Go to them.”

He’s right, of course. The mission isn’t over yet, and with a strong combatant like Felix missing, victory has just slipped from your grasp.

There is the meeting point. There it is, and no student from the Lion House is in sight. The minutes pass in long stretches, ticking away until it’s impossible to tell if time moves on or holds still. Holding out between the trees, you look in both directions—for your comrades and the enemy. For whatever reason, Byleth has decided not to advance to your position, and you aren’t sure what that’s supposed to mean. More minutes pass in aggravating silence, heavy and oppressing, and then—

“Herald!” Dimitri’s voice rings through the woods. Your head snaps to him, and there they are, the Blue Lions tearing through the woods, a yellow flag with a deer on it waving behind them.

“You did it!” Joy and relief spreads through you as you stumble towards them. “You guys really did it!” They shuffle around you like kittens searching for warmth, and something tight uncoils inside your chest. Is this what Byleth always feels when she’s in front of her class?

“Hilda and Claude were mighty opponents, but nothing we couldn’t handle,” Dimitri reassures, but then a shadow jumps over his features. “Unfortunately, Mercedes had to leave. We couldn’t reach her in time to step in.”

“Step in,” Sylvain repeats, muttered under his breath as he brushes red locks from his sweaty forehead. “I want to see you stepping in when Hilda swings that axe like a lunatic and not scream like a little girl.”

“Where is Felix?” Dedue inquirers, ignoring Sylvain.

Your shoulders drop. “Well, Linhardt was accompanied by Ferdinand, and while I pursued Linhardt, they fought. None of them emerged unscathed, although I feel Felix drew the shorter straw.”

“Felix?” Dimitri repeats. He sounds as if you just tried to convince him it’s going to rain butterscotch pie later. “Our Felix lost?”

“Not exactly the fight, but I’m sure his pride took a hard beating.”

“Well, that leaves four against four.” Dimitri brings a hand up to his chin, a worry crease between his eyebrows. “And they still have Edelgard and the Professor.”

“And we got the Herald and you!” Sylvain beams. “I say we wrap this up and celebrate our victory with a nice dinner and maybe some ale? How does that sound?”

“Sacrilegious.” Your voice is drier than the crisp leaves cracking under your feet. “Aren’t you too young for alcohol?”

“Too young and irresponsible,” Dimitri agrees with you, looking tired of Sylvain’s antics. “But I don’t object to a celebratory dinner.”

“That is, if we win.” Dedue reads your mind, and brings the conversation back on the right course.

“I assume the Black Eagles are holding position. They’re waiting for us,” you say, briefly checking everyone’s state. Safe for dirt and scratches, they’re still doing good, though having fought already, the Blue Lions are on a slight disadvantage. You can only hope some of Byleth’s students dropped out facing the Golden Deers.

“We shouldn’t keep them waiting then.” Sylvain winks, playing with the grip of his lance. The smile that flirts with his lips is threatening.

“Keep your guard up.” Dimitri shares a single, meaningful glance with every one of you, then leads your little group out of the forest. Whatever Byleth has planned, you hope that you’ll be ready for it.

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fizzychocolatemilk · 3 years ago

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The Sun Prince, the Huntsman, and a Cottage in the Woods (Prologue Part 3)

Hi! I know it’s really late, but I finally finished the first chapter! The AO3 link is here. But this is the final installation of the prologue! Enjoy!

His tutor was strict and unforgiving, yelling at him for every mistake, which caused Katsuki to hate both them and the things they were teaching him with the petty passion that only a pre-teen could have. But finally after completing months of etiquette training and diplomacy tutoring, Katsuki finally met the Trinity for the first time at the age of 13.

He was not impressed.

The Todorokis were obnoxious and strangely tense and the Togas were downright crazy. Especially his fiancee, Toga Himiko. She was only a couple years older than him, but the gleam in her eyes when they were set on him made a cold shiver travel up his spine. Invisible spiders crawled across his skin at her touch, so he had taken to calling her witch in his head.

“Katsu-chan~ Where are you, my sweet? We have our first date today!”

Doing what any reasonable person would do at the voice of their crazy witch of a fiancee, Katsuki turned and ran. He knew the palace like the back of his hand, so he expertly maneuvered through the twisting hallways before stealing into one of the smaller libraries. He hid in a covertly placed alcove, one that he had skirked his responsibilities in many times before. Finally, he let out a small sigh and relaxed a little, deeming the threat gone...for now.

“Hello.”

Katsuki nearly jumped out of his skin as he turned to face the intruder. “What the fuck are you doing here, Candy Cane?” Katsuki aggressively whispered at Shouto Todoroki, the youngest (and most tolerable...not that Katsuki would ever tell him that) of the Todorokis.

Shouto blinked at Katsuki before responding, “Hiding. You’re doing the same, right?”

Katsuki scowled, “What the fuck do you have to hide from?”

“My father. I thought it was obvious.”

Katsuki’s face lost its tension, and the two princes sat in silence. That day Shouto and Katsuki formed a friendship out of solidarity for each other, and Katsuki was pulled even deeper into his despair when he heard that Shouto had disappeared several weeks later.

Izuku took his first solo hunting trip a couple of months before he turned 13. He had become a scarily accurate shot very quickly by spending every available second from dawn to dusk practicing with the bow. He could outshoot most of the adults in his village, so he was deemed ready for his first solo trip. His mother had packed his rucksack for him, hugged him a bit too tightly, and wished him luck. The worry was clear on her face, but Izuku knew that she trusted him. He was determined to not disappoint her.

The first night, he set up camp in a small glade. He had spent the day setting up different kinds of hand-made traps designed to catch rabbits and squirrels. The next day, he would spend time tracking larger animals, like stag and boar, that he could kill himself. As he settled down to sleep, he gazed at the unobstructed view of the universe above him and thought of the days he would spend hand-in-hand with another boy, watching the stars. His dreams were of gold-winged angels, bonfires, and children’s laughter.

In the morning, Izuku checked and reset the traps before following some deer tracks he saw near his campsite. As he moved further into the forest, the smell of woodsmoke and freshly cut berries began to creep towards him. His brow furrowed. He was in the middle of the forest. The next village was in the complete opposite direction. Who could be out here cooking so early in the morning?

He abandoned the tracks, and crept silently in the direction of the smell. As it got stronger, his stomach growled, reminding Izuku that he had forgotten to eat that morning. He drank some water from his canteen in hopes of quieting his stomach, and soon he crept upon a clearing with a strange sight. There was a tall cottage of white plaster with a thatched roof and several additions of various materials that made it look like an amalgamation of several different houses instead of just one. A stone and iron oven stood outside the cottage, smoke rising out of its chimney.

And then Izuku saw them. A man with long, ebony hair pulled back with a sky blue ribbon embroidered with clouds was cooking on a shallow metal bowl that had been placed over the fire. He was surrounded by several interesting characters: a boy with vibrant red hair and sharp teeth like a mountain lion, a girl that had the horns of a stag but with unnaturally pink skin, a stoic young man with bi-colored hair, and a blonde boy that looked as if he had been struck by lightning. There were several other less outrageous looking people too and most of them looked to be around Izuku’s age, but Izuku was cautious. He watched them silently for a few more moments, listening to their teasing banter and joviality, before he was spotted.

The girl had hair the color of midnight with small white flowers that had been braided in. She stared at him and Izuku could see the intelligence in her slate colored eyes. They judged each other for a few minutes before the girl nodded at Izuku, and he emerged from his hiding spot in the brush.

“Umm...hello,” Izuku awkwardly greeted the odd bunch.

The girl who spotted him smiled warmly at him, as the others turned to judge the intruder. The red-head, the stag girl, the lightning boy, and another boy with oddly shaped elbows that Izuku hadn’t noticed from his spot smiled at him, while the man studied him with calculating eyes. The man glanced at his garb (green and brown to blend into the surrounding forest) and his bow before raising an eyebrow at him.

Izuku gulped at the intimidating figure the man pulled with just an expression before he started rambling, “I was tracking a deer nearby...and I smelled the food. I was wondering who was out here when the nearest villages are miles in the other direction. So I just followed the smell and here I am. I’m Midoriya, by the way.”

“Aizawa,” the man introduced himself. “We live out here by choice. We’re outcasts, wanderers, magicians, fae, people in search of a safe place and a family. Are you going to threaten that safety, Midoriya?”

Izuku shook his head quickly before bowing to the group. “NEVER! I didn’t mean to impose on you with my curiosity! I apologize and be on my way.”

That’s when the rest of the group jumped in. “It’s not an imposition, man! I’m Kirishima.” The red-head grinned at him.

The stag girl flounced over to him and dragged him closer to the group. “Ei is right! We always welcome new faces! I’m Mina! I’m a fae, but I’m super nice!”

“It’d be a bit hypocritical if we turned someone away. I’m Kaminari!” The lightning boy introduced himself as he patted the seat next to him for Izuku to take.

The rest of the group introduced themselves, and Izuku was welcomed into their little band. He stayed the night that night, and after his trip was over he made a point to visit as often as he could. They weren’t the golden hair of his childhood memories, but they were something just as good—a family.

#The Sun Prince & the Huntsman #bakudeku #bkdk #bakudeku fanfic #bkdk fic #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #todoroki shouto #toga himiko #yaoyorozu momo #kirishima eijiro #ashido mina #kaminari denki #sero hanta #aizawa shouta #fizzy's fics

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dragonrajafanfiction · 3 years ago

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Fifth Floor Ghost

The hospital is a brick building only five stories tall, known only as Cassell College Health and Wellness Clinic. Even though it was a small facility, it could have been ranked among the top hospitals in the world for its access to expertise. Some of the most prestigious doctors were Cassell alum and with a single phone call, they could be summoned in an emergency.

Each of the five floors was dedicated to a certain practice. The bottom floor was the emergency and ICU department and pharmacy and general medicine. The second floor was rehabilitation, physical therapy and sports medicine. The third floor was an area for surgeries. The fourth floor was the lab. The fifth floor and the basement were for the more exclusive patients.

There is a rumor that the basement and the Fifth floor of Cassell College clinic were actually haunted. It’s said that at night, if you stare at the upper floor of the clinic, you’ll see the shadow of a person staring out at you from the windows. If you come close, you can hear doors opening and shutting. Or you can hear the sounds of voices floating to your ears from inside.

Some of the professors encourage such rumors, saying that wandering in will provoke the spirits there and that no one should even attempt to enter these forbidden zones for fear of being cursed. Others laugh it off and say that these floors are storage or empty and there is no such thing as ghosts.

Only a few of the oldest members of the college can remember the real dirty history of these floors. Before there were reliable ways to determine the stability of the bloodline, this is where unstable students were taken to be euthanized. The walls were reinforced with concrete and steel. The windows were rigged with traps and explosive devices to keep from being opened.

If the students were members of Hydra or the former Devil Clan, they would immediately recognize this sort of building. It was the same sort of building that was built in the remote mountains of Japan -- The Black prison that held the White King Hybrid Ghosts. The sort of facility that Lu Mingfei found so familiar and had housed Erii Uesugi when she was alive, had originated in Cassell College. They would understand that the people held on those floors were something far worse than any vengeful spirit, and wouldn’t wish to speak of it ever again.

Early every morning, someone stirred at the top floor of this building. Tigre didn’t understand himself to have migrated from one cage in Mexico to another cage at the top of Cassell College clinic. To him, this was heaven to see the light of the sun rise through the small dingy window and hear the song of the birds chirping outside to greet it.

His room is white all around to reflect the light, as though he were in a sea of clouds. He stretched and turned into it, letting the sun warm his face. His calm innocent smile was offset by the horrific scarring on his bare arms, chest and back. It was no wonder he was called, “Tigre” or ‘tiger’. Not only was he strong and deadly, the dark scars resembled stripes.

One had to wonder how someone like him survived to his age. It was frightening to think how he could sustain this many wounds and still be alive and walking.

He reaches over and presses play on a small cellphone. On the phone is the voice of Masashi Toyama. “Tigre, today be sure to shower, brush your teeth for two minutes after you shower and comb your hair well, fold your clothes into the drawer neatly like I showed you…”

These are simple life habits, but habits that Tigre had never had a chance to cultivate. Something as simple as showering and brushing teeth was something he would forget to do or only do half way before he got distracted by something simple, like flushing the toilet or trying to figure out how the light switch actually worked.

He was strong enough and had enough time to take apart everything in his room. It wasn’t unusual for the nursing staff to come and find that he had partially dismantled the furniture or undone the door. How he figured out how to remove the exhaust fan in the bathroom was another mystery. Eventually the maintenance crew went and bolted down everything they could to keep him from pulling it apart again.

He was a strange patient. He was calm and compliant as a child, but his curiosity and strength tore everything around him apart and those around him had to acknowledge that he was not a child but a grown man. Like a child, he didn’t understand that the sudden ratcheting down of everything in the room meant that he wasn’t supposed to touch those things again. He took it as a puzzle. As though he had won the game and now entered ‘Challenge mode.’ He did understand however, when he broke the door completely that maybe he had done something wrong.

It was almost time for Toyama to arrive for his lesson. He listened for his steps in the hall, standing in the middle of the room, still. When he was right at the door, he waited until the door was about to open and then leaped up from a standing start and braced his arms against the corner of the wall just inside the door. He can only maintain this position a short time, his arms and feet pushed against the texture. Toyama walked in and didn’t see him. He looked left and right. His eyes widened in a panic and called out. “Tigre? Tigre!” He hurried forward towards the bathroom to look inside. Tigre leaped from the wall and pushed him into the bathroom and shut the door!

“Tigre! Tigre! No! Bad!” Toyama scolded him.

He opened the door to an empty room again. There were only a few places Tigre could hide. Under the bed was one, but more often, Tigre would just hide in Toyama’s blind spots. He turned to his right and Tigre was standing there. He was so close, Toyama was surprised he didn’t smell him. Toyama staggered backwards with a yelp.

“Tigre! No!” Tigre said, imitating his voice and speaking at the same time as him.

Toyama adjusted his glasses. Normally, such behavior was intolerable from any patient. But Toyama was an expert in Hybrid psychology and high ranking Hybrids were all little maniacs, whether they admitted it or not. If Tigre didn’t torment him a little, he would be more concerned than not. In all frankness, given his 24 hour confinement, these little pranks spoke to his mental stability.

Toyama sighed as he looked at his patient’s sturdy muscular frame in his simple shirt and slacks and bare feet. Those golden eyes shined above his dark glasses with a certain animal intensity, the pupils wide as marbles. He was in a playful mood, but anyone looking at him right now would be absolutely terrified at the eyes of this monster.

Elsewhere in the college, students were waking up to hurry to classes and study for midterms. He was dealing with students who were stressing over dissertations and exams most of the day, so these little moments of wild madness were more welcome than before. He tried to imagine Tigre behind a desk, quietly reading or behind a keyboard typing a report and the thought was so ridiculous that he couldn’t do it.

However, weeks ago, his report to Schneider said that Tigre was starting to pace, and rub his sides against his cage. He was reaching the point where he would start to earnestly try to escape and they needed to release his pent up energy in a meaningful controlled way before they lost all control of the situation.

He expected a rejection. After all, Tigre’s blood was far over the acceptable limit to the point that he should have been considered for euthanasia. To Toyama, this was a pointless and cruel exercise, keeping him confined here, but letting him outside was madness.

He didn’t expect Schneider to respond back with a letter approving nightly outings with Tigre supervised by the Executive Board. The letter expressed that Tigre’s progress has been pleasing so far and they look forward to his continued improvement.

Toyama was speechless at this message. Schneider understood more than anyone the terrible power of unstable hybrids and that they were in a war against dragons. Dragons were the enemies of humans, like the wolf was a natural enemy to the deer. It wasn’t something that could be changed by treaties or by talks.

Some might point to some small examples, such as a lioness that had adopted a baby antelope as its cub. Even though this lioness protected the poor calf as best as it could, one day, the lioness turned her back at the wrong time, and a male lion devoured her pet. Even though the lioness might have felt some negative emotions, there was nothing she could do and in the end, she forgot about her little ‘pet baby antelope’ and didn’t mourn for it.

This was the opposite. They were adopting a lion into a herd of antelope. This young man was more dragon than he was human. Tigre was fond of Toyama now, but when his true nature took over, would he feel any remorse in killing anyone?

Schneider wasn’t a complete fool and promised him that precautions would be put in place for the outings. On the first night he went out, the area was cleared of all human presence, snipers were placed on roofs and a Predator drone hummed threateningly in the air. Tigre was none the wiser as he explored the college, his face wreathed in a smile. He looked up and leaped into the tree to pluck off a leaf and admire it in the dark.

In that unnatural quiet, Toyama walked with him alone. They passed by the statuesque architecture, worn by a hundred years of weather, looking at the stars between the branches of the trees, faint from the city lights, the moon seeming to hang low between the buildings. If one wasn’t aware of the situation, they could be excused for thinking that Toyama was walking with a close relative, like a son.

But after some time, the differences between them became more apparent, Tigre would get distracted by a sound, and his muscles and senses would key up, and he would stop, on high alert. Toyama would allow him to follow the sound, occasionally taking them both into drainage ditches and patches of landscaping, until he found what he was looking for -- a stray cat, opossum or raccoon. Soon, Toyama was getting well acquainted with Cassell College’s wildlife.

Tigre wouldn’t harass them though, he would just sit and watch their behavior, which was always growling and snarling. Tigre didn’t understand that his aura was the intimidating aura of a predator that had cornered its prey.

It was this aura that Toyama aimed to tame. He couldn’t remove that nature from him. He could only redirect it to innocent pursuits. Rather than hunting animals around the college, he took to ‘studying’ them. Rather than cornering them, he shadowed them and made observations. Then he finally taught him to make reports and turn them in to him as homework. These reports he also turned into Schneider for his analysis.

Schneider would send them back with notes, asking questions which he would return to Tigre for a response. In this way, Schneider and Tigre got acquainted with each other.

Finally, after several days, Schneider met with Principal Anjou and Vice Principal Franco at a trendy night club. Toyama wasn’t sure what was said, but the next morning it was announced that Tigre was going to be inducted as an official student at Cassell College and Toyama should preside over his 3E exam. Toyama had hoped that Tigre would be matriculated privately and quietly but in this case, it was decided that he would be enrolled normally, as though he were no different.

Toyama felt that he could argue with Schneider, but he couldn’t argue with him and the two Principals. His continued training would have to happen outside his jurisdiction.

“Tigre…” Toyama looked at him with kind and sad eyes. “Today you have a very special test. This test will take you to be one of Cassell’s official students.”

“Really?” Tigre’s eyes widened.

“I will tell you a bit about it, so that you are not surprised. You will hear music and then you will hear a voice in the speakers. This voice will speak to your heart in a way no other voice has spoken to you before. There will be a series of questions and you will write down the answers to the best of your ability. Understand?”

Tigre nodded. “Yes.”

“No matter what. Please remember… you mustn’t hurt anyone. Even if you really want to. Understand?”

Tigre tilted his head. “I understand.”

“Okay…” Toyama considered for a few more seconds and pulled Tigre into an awkward hug. “You’ve done very well. Keep doing well.”

#Dragon Raja

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emerald-amidst-gold · 3 years ago

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Ohh maybe 1, 2, 3, and 28? 👀

*takes a sip from my can of soda* Ahhh~! Caffeine for the soul~ >:3

But you know what's better for the soul? Questions! Curiosity! RAMBLING ABOUT CHILDREN! >:D Let's GOOOO!

1. What would your Warden generally think of your Hawke and your inquisitor?

Rylen:

Now, I kind of see Elise eventually meeting or at least, reaching out to Rylen after the events in Kirkwall. After all, she’s an Amell, and so is Hawke. They’re literally the only family each other has (that’s not ‘found’ family, that is.). So, I think Elise would reach out through a letter or somehow manage a visit to her cousin and...connect. She would see him as inspiring; Rylen always manages a smile and a quip. However, if they were to spend more and more time interacting with each other, Elise would see that Hawke isn’t very well put together, especially after the Chantry explosion. She would question why Rylen chose the templars, why he executed Anders who was a like a brother to her, but eventually she would come to understand the whys. Elise would see it as no different as when she decided to spare Loghain at the Landsmeet; they did what they believed to be right and what would be best in that very moment. Both Rylen and Elise sacrificed their own happiness for the benefit of others, and were still blamed for future complications and there’s something comforting in a finding another who can relate. :3

Fane:

So, I actually have some later fic ideas for a confrontation between Elise and Fane (after Trespasser, kind of Pre-DA4 shenanas~), and suffice it to say, these two have similar ways of thinking, but their methods are entirely different. Fane is rash, prone to barreling head first into conflict without thinking about those around him. Elise is analytical, always assessing and placing the pieces in her head to make sure everyone comes out alive. This isn’t to say Fane doesn’t care about his comrades; he does. There’s countless, countless times he takes a blow for someone else without batting an eye or thinking that he could die. He just doesn’t plan; he acts. Fane can get lost in the moment of battle, in the heady scent of chaos and blood. Elise, at first meeting him, would see him as any typical warrior; eager for battle and a garden of death. But if they were to sit down and talk...I think she might find him endearing and fascinating. More or less she would think, ‘He’s so mature for someone so young. I mean, he’s twenty-four, but...he speaks as if he’s older. His speech is manicured, measured as if decided upon carefully. And his eyes...there’s pain, a deep, deep pain. Like some of the older Wardens, those just hearing the Calling. But also...hope? Conviction? Who are you, Inquisitor? What has the world done to you?’

2. What would your Hawke generally think of your warden and your Inquisitor?

Elise:

Rylen would probably have the same opinion of Elise as she does with him. They’re family, split apart due the misconceptions and fear, and my Hawke cherishes family. He lost everyone else he could rightly consider family. Fenris, Varric, Sebastian, Isabela, and Merrill are the only people he can call family now. (Anders and Aveline are complicated. I won’t go into that can of worms. For now~ >:3) He would definitely feel a level of guilt for what he had to do in Kirkwall with Anders, with the mages, with...everything, but Rylen just tries to make it through another day. If he and Elise started to interact I think it would be extremely beneficial to Rylen. Elise is patient, sometimes stern, and not afraid to lay all the facts out. Rylen would admire that since he’s had to go through life wearing a mask, a smile, a facade just to placate someone else. He would see Elise as another sister and his opinion of her would probably be along the lines of, ‘I won’t let another member of my family be torn from me. Father, Bethany, Carver...Mother.. I failed them. I won’t fail her. I won’t fail her. She’s bright and she keeps her head held high. Heh, now I see how she killed an Archdemon and lived to tell the tale. ...Bet the lightning has something to do with that, too.’

Fane:

Rylen and Fane, in my head, actually hit it off from the get go. They’ve both had to take mantles of power, even though they never, never wanted to. Though, for different reasons, of course. But Rylen would find Fane inspiring and wholly capable of doing what must be done. He’d be kind of put off that most of his well thought out jokes and pokes would fall flat on Fane, but eventually, Rylen would see why that is. (Draconic nature withstanding.) Also, once my Hawke found out Fane is dragon? OHHHH, BUDDY. There would be yelling and screeching and cries of, ‘WHY DO I KEEP MEETING DRAGONS, FENRIS?! FIRST THE WITCH, NOW THE INQUISITOR?! ..I’m done. I’m putting my daggers down and stealing away into the mountains. Varric, you wanna come with? I know you’re fed up with this shit, too! Don’t lie! DON’T. LIE.’

3. What would your Inquisitor generally think of your warden and your Hawke?

Elise:

Fane would probably think of Elise as...interesting. Not in a bad way. Just...interesting. Fane isn’t comfortable with Wardens after Adamant. He learns that he can hear the corruption inside of them and that terrifies him. And confuses him. And makes him go, ‘What the fuck am I? I don’t even know anymore. Why do I try?’ But, if he were to get over that and, like I said with Elise, talk? He would have another perspective of the men and women that had let fear take them by the throat. It wouldn’t change his feelings regarding the Wardens entirely, but one level mind, one open mind, is enough to make Fane tap into his nature and consider other sides of a very, very large cube.

‘She’s more...quiet than the others. Maybe because it’s just her? No...Loghain was still loud as fuck when it was just him, so why? Ugh, I’m so sick of these puzzles. At least she’s more stable, but I can see the pain in her eyes; green like mine, but missing the gold. Maybe the Taint is stronger than she thinks? Perhaps, but still she fights, still she claws her way towards something that may be impossible. ...Hmph. How typical. A similarity. This world continues to confound.’

Rylen:

Fane respects Rylen after spending some time to feel him out, know his cues, and piece together which is his actual face. Once that happens, Fane can move into respect with my Hawke. These two have a fairly similar moral compass; pragmatism regarding most decisions. Again, they both have been thrust into a position without asking for it, so that would be a stepping stone upon the bonding path. All in all, Fane’s general opinion of Rylen would be, ‘He’s worn that mask of smiles and bright, grey eyes for too long. It’s cracking at the edges, wearing down to mere mortar. Then again, I have my own mask. I’m in no position to judge and condemn, but...it’s worrying. Even the strongest wings can be torn and all that greets is the earth below. I hope your wings don’t falter, Champion. It would be disappointing for the world to lose someone who cares when those who should are content to point the finger towards anyone but themselves.’

28. What is their favourite location within their own game and what would be their favourite in each others?

Fane: The Emprise du Lion! Snowwwww! Coooold! Ice dragooooon! >:3 ...minus the red lyrium. *snorts*

Origins: Hmm, I think Fane would like the Brecilian Forest. He enjoys forests as much as he enjoys the cold, the ice, and the snow. He likes the animals, even though he tries not to interfere with them, and he likes the quiet. No chattering, no demands. Only trees, leaves, and the occasional whistle of wind. Also, Fane likes to investigate ancient ruins. He’s not interested in the history, really. He just wants to see if he can find any remnants about his kin that the elves may have left behind. :3

DA2: Probably Sundermount since again, wilderness. Fane doesn’t do too well in crowded areas and Kirkwall would make his heart rate sky rocket. Not just because of the people, but because of the size. Those cramped streets of Lowtown would just make him...eugh. *shivers*

Elise: She adores Orzammar! Especially the Shaperate! The dwarves fascinate Elise since not many tomes in the Circle went into depth about them! :D And if we want to with Awakening areas, I would saaaay...Amaranthine. She’s always like towns and cities due to not being able to experience them until the Blight! :3

Inquisition: Elise would adore the Frostback Basin. Like, really enjoy it! All that flora and Avaar culture and wilderness? MMMM!

DA2: Definitely the Wounded Coast. Hands down. My daughter enjoys the sea so much. The salt in the air, the feel of sand, and the pretty, pretty shells and rolling waves? Every Circle mages’ wet dream. *waggles eyebrows*

Rylen: So, if we’re not talking like open world areas in the game, I would definitely say Rylen’s favorite place is the Hanged Man. The man needs a drink to deal with Kirkwall. Just saying. It’s also where he can just...be himself with the people who know him.

Inquisition: Hinterlands. He’s a FERELDAN. He wants his MABARI to RUN in native land! He wants to...go home. ;3;

Origins: I like to think the Hawke family went all over Ferelden before settling in Lothering. I mean, they kind of do, but maybe for more than a few months at a time? So, Rylen would enjoy Denerim. He likes to go where people are, where life is. He likes crowds because he can blend into them and not be tracked down until he wants to be tracked down. ...My Hawke just wants to live in peace with his glowy elf husband and run a mabari ranch. Is that too much to ask, Bioware?! Let Hawke REST!

Woo! That was FUN! It really got me thinking, too! X3 Thank you so much, friend! <3

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bonjour-rainycity · 4 years ago

Text

The Long Way Around ~ Chapter 12

Link to previous part: https://bonjour-rainycity.tumblr.com/post/624109035977949184/the-long-way-around-chapter-11

Pairing: Jasper x Reader

Word count: 2621

Warnings: This might slightly push the ‘T’ rating, so be warned (language and adult themes).

Jasper's POV

Weeks pass in routine. Mornings are reserved for desensitizing Y/n to human blood and improving her control, and afternoons are for exploring her ability. Nights are for us. After a long day, it’s nice to retreat to one of our rooms or the basement and enjoy each other’s company without any distractions. I would love to show her more of the forest, or take her back to the waterfall, but the threat from the unknown vampire looms. Edward, Bella, and Emmett caught the scent one day and chased it nearly two hundred miles south. But just like last time, the trail completely disappeared. It’s worrying. If I had it my way, Y/n would spend the entire day working on her ability and we would wait to improve her blood lust until after the unknown vampire had been dealt with. But she insists that both are equally important and won’t be convinced otherwise.

She smiles at me from the recliner across the living room, having seen my gaze turn to her. I smile back, contemplating joining her in the chair. But before I can act on my decision, Emmett comes bounding into the living room.

“Carlisle and I want to hunt but we need one more vampire to make the minimum group of three.” He smacks his lips, looking around the living room excitedly. “Any takers? Babe?” He runs over to Rosalie and gives her braid a tug. She swats his hand away, but there’s a soft smile on her face.

“No thank you. I went this morning with Esme and Alice, remember?”

Emmett frowns, nodding. “Oh yeah. Anyone? C’mon.”

From here, I can see Y/n’s eyes making the transition from red to black. Her control has gotten so much better, she could probably go a few more days. But why let her suffer?

I stand up, closing my laptop and placing it on the table beside me. “Yeah, I’ll go. Y/n?”

“Sure,” she smiles easily, taking my outstretched hand. It always amazes me how, when I offer my hand, she takes it without hesitation. Without fear that I will suddenly turn into the monster I was made to be. Her emotions show no fear, no worry, no apprehension. Just affection. And comfort. And trust. I recognize then, the privilege I have to be the recipient of those feelings and the woman offering them. I kiss the side of her head, and I feel her emotions shift towards tenderness.

Carlisle meets us then, and we take off into the woods. As is usual recently, we’re careful to stay close to home. It makes the game a little less satisfying, but for now, it’s a trade-off we’re willing to make. We still don’t know where the mystery vampire is, what her motivations were for harming Esme, or if she plans on coming back to finish the job. So, we’re cautious.

Once we’re about twenty miles from the house, we smell a pack of coyotes. Emmett takes off at the same time Y/n does, and they jokingly fight over their prey. After ruffling her hair, Emmett lets Y/n go to the right to track the coyotes and have her pick of the kill. I watch her as she runs off, nothing but excitement and exhilaration emanating from her. When Emmett sees me smiling at him, he rolls his eyes.

“I’m just holding out for a bear.”

I snort. “You’re gonna have to go a little farther out for that.” Then we smell a herd of deer, and decide to let that satisfy our thirst for now.

I concentrate on my own hunt while keeping a careful monitor of Y/n’s emotions, not wanting to be completely unaware of her. I’m about to take down a deer when I feel the shift in her emotions. Curiosity, confusion, and strong desire. I pause, not sure what to make of this. Maybe she stumbled across a something new like a mountain lion?

But then I feel her fear, and, before I even consciously decide to, I’m sprinting towards her.

Vaguely, I register Carlisle and Emmett’s confusion, but that doesn’t matter. What matters now is getting to Y/n. The closer I get, I hear snarls. Dread pools in my stomach. There’s definitely more than one vampire awaiting me. I steel myself, preparing for a fight.

A high pitched, pained scream that I know all too well pierces the air. I push myself to go faster. The sounds of hurried footsteps are added to the mix as Carlisle and Emmett, alerted to the problem, rush to help. A thinning in the trees reveals a situation that, despite my years of battle and training, sends a hot rod of panic straight through me. Y/n is pinned beneath two vampires, and she’s struggling to get free. As is usual for newborns, she fights with her strength and instincts, ignoring strategy. All three snarl wildly, and Y/n catches the bigger vampire in the face with her hand, the crack echoing for miles. He hollers in pain, and I wonder if she put her ability behind the hit, making him feel more than he would from just getting slapped. I feel a burning anger from him, and he lunges forward, biting deep into her forearm. Y/n cries out, right around the same time that I find myself snarling with a fury that surprises me. It’s then that the other two notice my presence, and the female is distracted long enough for Y/n to flip her and wriggle free.

But she doesn’t run to safety, as I would expect.

Instead, she runs towards.

Towards the dead, bleeding human that I somehow just noticed.

“Y/n, no!” But she doesn’t respond to my plea. The male vampire grabs one of Y/n’s legs and yanks, pulling her back when she’s mere inches from her prey. I feel her outrage, her fury, her thirst.

By now, I’ve arrived at the scene and can enter the fight. It’s essentially one against three, as I’m trying to eliminate the two unfamiliar vampires and subdue Y/n. And it makes it even more difficult that, the entire time, the smell of human blood threatens to overwhelm my senses. It makes it infinitely more difficult that all three vampires before me are consumed with bloodlust. It would be so easy to give in. So easy to get rid of them all and take the kill for myself. These instincts, older, deeper, less civilized, threaten to resurface. But a piercing scream from Y/n as one of the two gets another bite in brings me back. Somehow, I manage to focus on the situation before me instead of the blood. I can’t explain it. My focus is just shifted elsewhere.

Thankfully, Carlisle and Emmett arrive then and quickly get a grip of the situation. I grab Y/n around the waist, pulling her hands behind her back and holding her tight against my chest. I send waves of calm and lethargy to her, hoping it’s enough to subdue her and allow her come back to herself.

“Stop breathing, it’s alright. Carlisle!” At my call, Carlisle rushes to my side. “Hold her like this and take her as far away as you can.” Carlisle nods and takes Y/n from me, who now looks and feels thoroughly confused. Then, the pain breaks through, and she whimpers. I want nothing more than to run to her, comfort her, figure out how to take her pain away. But Emmett can’t hold the vampires by himself much longer, and I don’t want to risk Y/n re-joining the fight. So I push down my instincts telling me to scoop her up and run far away, and instead, hurry to join Emmett.

Between the two of us, we make quick work of the other vampires.

“Based on the scent, that’s who attacked Esme.” Emmett gestures to the pile of body parts belonging to the female.

I toss him a lighter from my pocket. “I’ll send Carlisle back to help you. I-I’ve gotta check on Y/n.” Now that the focus of battle is fading, I’m beginning to feel a bit frantic. I need to see her, touch her, make sure she’s alright.

Emmett nods seriously, waving me off. “Go.”

It takes me nearly ten minutes to reach them, despite my speed. Thankfully, Carlisle had taken me seriously when I asked him to get her as far away as possible.

Y/n sits on the ground, taking shuttering breaths. Carlisle crouches next to her, holding her forearm gently in his hands as he turns to spit venom onto the ground. When she sees me, Y/n shoots up and runs to pull me in a hug.

“Jasper, I’m so sorry, I-”

I cut her off, cupping her face and kissing her forcefully, desperately. I’m just so glad she’s safe.

I pull back, stroking her hair and bringing her into a hug once again. “You’re okay.”

Carlisle meets us then, patting me on the back.

I nod at him, unable to accurately communicate my gratitude. But he just nods back, understanding. “I’ll go help Emmett.”

Y/n’s sharp intake of breath reminds me of the pain she’s still in, and it brings a growl to my throat.

She chuckles sardonically. “I can take away others’ pain, but not my own. Ironic.”

Ignoring her attempt at a joke, I tilt her head, examining the bite in her neck. It’s deep. As with earlier, my anger surprises me, and I urge myself to calm down. You’ve seen wounds like this a thousand times before, relax. It’ll hurt and scar, but she’ll be fine in the long run. I pull back slightly so I can stretch out her arms and check for more bites. She shakes her head.

“They didn’t get me too bad. Just a bite on my neck, my arm, and on my left leg.” She huffs, her grip on my hand tightening. My eyes fall to her leg so I can assess that bite. “I don’t know how you do it. Just these three are killing me, and you barely flinched when I got you.” She grimaces.

“Well,” I move her head once more to get a look at her neck. Of the three, this is by far the worst. “You’ll get used to it the more it happens, though the goal is for it to not happen again.”And I will do everything in my power to make sure it doesn’t happen again. “Can I?” I gesture to her neck, meaning to suck the venom out.

She nods. “Please. Carlisle got the one on my arm, I think. That one doesn’t sting anymore.”

When my lips make contact with the tender skin, she sucks in a breath.

“Sorry,” I murmur, pulling back.

“No it’s okay.” She tilts her head once more. I try again, slower this time, and she holds carefully still. The venom is bitter, but the fact that I can taste it means it hasn’t fully begun circulating through her system, and that’s good. Once I’ve gotten out all I can, I smooth some of my own venom over the wound in an effort to help it heal faster. Then, I kneel and do the same to her leg. When I’ve finished, she seems a lot more relaxed.

“Thank you,” she pulls me up and kisses my cheek, and I can’t help the shy smile that spreads across my face.

“Anytime.”

But then, her mood sours. “I’m sorry I started a fight and put you all in danger.”

I shake my head forcefully. “It’s not your fault. That whole situation was a loaded powder keg. The aggressive vampires, the hunting…the human….”

She looks at the ground, feeling guilty. “I almost tasted human blood.”

“But you didn’t.”

She pulls out of my arms, putting her head in her hands. “Only because you stopped me! All that training we’ve been doing…it all went out the window the minute I smelled real human blood.”

Once again, I shake my head. “I honestly think this was a special case. The training you’ve been doing is for everyday situations; school, town, traveling. Normal, human activities. This situation was all vampire. The fact that you were already hunting and using your senses and instincts means that coming across a human would almost certainly mean their death. That would be true for any of us. Vampires are at their most dangerous when hunting and when in a fight. You were in both at the same time, so it makes perfect sense that your reasoning couldn’t override your instincts. And the simple fact that you didn’t use your ability to put me or Carlisle on the ground when we grabbed you shows how far you’ve come.”

She gives me a disbelieving look, but I can tell by her mood that my words have calmed her.

“Y/n.” Her eyes soften, and she takes my outstretched hands. “I promise.”

She puts a hand on my neck and pulls me down for a kiss. The feel of her lips against mine sparks a terrifying thought.

I almost lost her.

Fuck.

I grab her, desperately, and she responds in kind. I don’t know who pushes who, and really, it could’ve been either of us, but we’re soon tangled on the ground. I pull her closer against me, a nearly impossible task. She deepens the kiss and wraps her legs around my waist. I move my lips to her neck, careful to avoid her bite, and she lets out a sound that sets every nerve I have on fire.

But then I hear another, much less pleasing noise.

I hear approaching footsteps, and lift my head just in time to growl at the vampires entering our line of sight.

“Well, looks like you two recovered nicely.” Emmett’s smile is amused, and he sends a teasing wink our way.

Y/n rolls her eyes, and I stand, pulling her with me. I would be lying if I said that steadying breaths and thoughts of baseball weren’t a necessity.

“Oh no, please continue,” Emmett grins, his sarcasm shining through. “Get your make-out on while Carlisle and I take care of cleaning up the mess and lighting the fires. We know who’s really doing the dirty work.”

Y/n furrows her eyebrows, confused. “The fires?” Then, it hits her. “Oh. Right. They’re dead, then.”

She looks like she might be sick, which is a feat for a vampire. “And the human?”

Carlisle joins us then, pausing before Y/n and assessing. “Dead before we even got there. It seems the other vampires had brought the human into the woods, and when they killed him and spilled the blood, that alerted you.”

Y/n nods too quickly, taking a shuddering breath. “Got it.” She tries to apologize again. “I’m sorry you guys had to risk yourselves and…you know.” She trails off, though her meaning is clear.

“Don’t give it another thought,” Emmett assures. “We’ve done it before, and we’ll do it again.”

I rub her back, something I’d done previously that seemed to help calm her down. Thankfully, it has a similar effect this time.

“We should be getting home,” Carlisle reminds us. “The others will be worried.”

With that in mind, we hurry on our way. Before we reach the house, I can feel the tension and fear. Shit.

“Carlisle, something’s-”

“We’ve got a problem,” Alice meets us on the outskirts of our property, Arthur glued to her side and examining the surrounding forest. Alice fixes us with a somber look. “The vampires you killed had some friends. And they’re coming here.”

A/n Ooooh, sorry for that little cliffhanger! Let me know what you thought and if you would like to be added to the tag list! Also, if I opened requests, would anyone be interested? Also ALSO, drop a description of your personality in my inbox and I’ll tell you what I think your vampire ability would be. Much love <3

xx,

Bjr

Next part: https://bonjour-rainycity.tumblr.com/post/624936041495822336/the-long-way-around-chapter-13

Tag list: @puer-de-infinitate @charliestuff @hindustani-diaspora @one-thread-can-save-a-life @salsameter @enchantedcruelsummer @meashy-moo @sana-li @femflorals @80strashbag @tomisbaeholland @heyimval13 @triscuitcracker

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