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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 1 year ago

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One of two kinds - Part 1

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A/N: "Part 1", Nina? Part 1? And it's 8.7k words long? Yes, yes, yes, part 1. Guess centaur!Sy will have to wait for a bit, right? I don't even know how I came up with the idea for werewolf!Geralt (affectionately known by me and a few others as "Weralt") but OH BOY am I glad I did... And then Geralt kept getting bigger and the Druid kept getting smaller, and now we're left with this.

I don't think this qualifies as monsterfucking just yet, but rest assured I promised someone knotting and that will happen...

Characters: werewolf!Geralt x halfling!druid!OFC (unnamed)

Summary: When you find a wounded, new werewolf in the forest, you can't just leave him lying there. Perhaps the enormous man will turn out to be exactly what you needed...

Word count: 8.7k

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, NSFW, MINORS DNI, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), p-in-v sex (unprotected. Be smarter!), dirty talk, SIZE KINK, annoying banter (❤️), lots of teasing, mentions of sexual assault, murder, blood, violence (that took a turn), and just so that no one is confused and comes after me for this later... SIZE KINK!!! And one suggestion of a very inappropriate use of wildshaping... I think that's all but if I missed any, let me know.

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @ellethespaceunicorn @mayloma @keanureevesisbae @summersong69 @ylva-syverson @peaches1958 @sillyrabbit81 @livisss @peyton-warren @ramadiiiisme @mysweetlittledesire

The groans and whines cut through the forest, clearly half-animal half-man to your ears. It awakened your curiosity; it was likely a shifter, or so the wolf-like howls would indicate. Wolf-hybrids were so rare that you almost discarded the possibility immediately, but shape shifters were common enough in all forms.

Swiftly you flew through the thick of the forest, towards the source of the cries. He wasn’t difficult to spot; a bright white fleck on the forest ground – and one of considerable size.

Behind a tree, you shifted back, carefully rearranging your skirts – for some reason – before stepping into the small clearing where the creature cried. He was possibly the largest wolf you had ever seen! An adult male, from the looks of it, but a new one. One who had only found his wolf recently. Older wolves rarely went through the trouble of shifting to their full form unless it was a full moon or mating season...

Careful not to startle him, you crept towards him until his big, golden eyes locked on yours, in them an expression of pain so overpowering that you nearly felt his agony yourself. The cries got louder until one echoed in your head: “Help!” He spoke the Common language, to your surprise. He didn’t feel human, even after you disregarded the obvious animal energies.

“Shh,” you said when he yelped, clearly in tremendous pain. He allowed you to touch his head, leaning into your touch and nuzzling your hand. From here, you could see a rather gruesome cut on his stomach and a bite mark on his thigh from something not much bigger than him – but maybe a lot angrier. “It’s okay, you’re going to be okay,” you whispered to him while trying to think of a way to move the behemoth out of the cold. Even your wolf form wouldn’t be large enough to move him.

With the absence of other sensible options taken into consideration, you arrived at the conclusion that magic was the only viable solution. The creature whined softly as your spell lifted him off the floor, and you dragged his levitating body carefully through the woods, until you found the cave you were looking for. The rough floor was cold, but it would have to do.

“You need to shift back,” you whispered as you sat by his enormous head. Gods, whoever this was had to be an exceptionally large man – especially compared to your small frame... “I know it hurts, and I know it’s terrifying, but I can’t heal something as big as you,” you pleaded. You ran your hands through the soft white fur on his neck in an attempt to calm the wolf down. It was obvious to you that he was fighting his shift, and you knew that meant it would hurt him all the more. He simply couldn’t hold on to his wolf form forever.

Slowly, the rhythm of his breathing steadied under your touch. “Good, good...” you muttered, raking your fingers through his fur. “Stop fighting it, it won’t hurt if you let it happen.” It wasn’t quite a lie, but it was something slightly other than the truth: phasing wasn’t painful, per se, but uncomfortable enough to be experienced that way in the beginning. The feeling was certainly more or less an acquired taste.

“I can’t...” The grunt that sounded in your mind was accompanied by a low growl from the creature.

“Yes, you can, I know you can,” you said as you smoothed a hand over his cheek. Watching a werewolf – or were-anything – phase was a sight somewhere between gruelling and fascinating, but this man somehow made it look powerful and captivating in a way.

His human – or rather, ‘regular’ form, as you were still convinced this man was at least not fully human – was as impressive as his wolf; Approaching – perhaps even exceeding – two metres in height, with broad shoulders and no shortage of muscle. As your curious eyes raked over his form, you couldn’t help but notice other parts of him that were quite sizeable... Immediately, you discarded the thought: All it took was one look at his abdomen and thigh, both of which had sustained quite a bit of damage.

“Don’t move,” you told the man as you placed your hands over the wound on his stomach before you started on your first healing incantation. “I won’t be able to heal you completely, but I should be able to get both of us through the night,” you muttered as you watched the wound carefully, not taking your hands off the man until the bleeding had stopped. At least that put him out of immediate danger...

The wound on his leg, you had already noticed, would require a more finessed approach; it ran rather high on the inside of his thigh – a place that was impossible for you to reach without putting your hands in places that you had better not touch, even as a healer, without it being strictly necessary. Luckily, now that he was no longer continuously fighting his transformation, and with the other wound in a less alarming state, the man seemed to be in considerably less pain.

“Could you, eh... I need to... Please,” you stammered, your cheeks glowing hot as you made vague gestures at his crotch. “Can you move your, eh... Parts... out of the way, please?”

He looked at you and cocked an eyebrow, while a devious smirk spread on his face. “Parts?” he asked, a hint of that same smugness unbecomingly evident in his voice.

You cleared your throat and tried – and failed – to keep your voice steady as you spoke again: “Yes. To put it plainly... Ehm... Move your dick.” The man snorted, lowering his hand tragically slowly and cupping his... package, so you had access to his thigh. Without thinking, you straddled his leg as you put your hands over the wound, quietly marvelling at the sight of his vast, tree-trunk thighs, fighting the urge to moan as the muscles twitched beneath your fingers. “What did this to you?” you asked softly while still concentrating on your spell.

“Don’t know, didn’t see it,” the man grunted. So, he wasn’t one of many words... He let out a sigh of relief as you finished your work and took your hands off his leg. There was no doubt that it was still sore, as you weren’t able to continue your treatment right now – not if you wanted to make it through the cold night with the slightest bit of comfort, at least.

“How does that feel?” you asked the stranger, and he replied with another grunt.

“Much better,” he groaned. Then, he moved his leg in such a way that made you lose your balance, and you tumbled forward, until you were on top of him. Actually, ‘were launched on top of him’ was a far better description. He barely grunted as you landed on him, but when your eyes met, he was looking down at you in utter befuddlement. “Sorry. I didn’t know you were...” He awkwardly pinched his fingers together in a gesture that could have meant absolutely nothing other than ‘small’.

“I’ll have you know I’m exceptionally tall for a halfling, you brute!” you snapped, frowning up at him. Despite your feisty attitude, you didn’t dare move, as you were very aware of the rather unfortunate position on his body you were in. Luckily, he seemed far less plagued by reservations regarding the situation, and before you know it, his large hands grabbed your waist, and he pulled you up towards him. His sly grin never left his face as he set you down on his stomach, just above the wound you had just been working on, which now presented itself as a new scar, the fresh skin pink and shiny and – above all – delicate, making you extra careful not to make any unexpected moves.

“What’s your name?” you asked, feeling it was only appropriate at this point to find out that information about him.

“Geralt,” he said with a low chuckle. You repeated it – it was a rather unusual name – and introduced yourself, still seated on top of his chest. “Thank you for your help.”

“You’re welcome,” you replied. “Do you have any idea what happened to you?”

“I... Well, you saw the aftermath. I don’t know what attacked me, and... You seem to know a lot more about what I am than I do,” he said slowly. Something in his voice suggested he was lost, confused and perhaps even a bit scared.

“Get some rest,” you said, conjuring up a soft bed of moss beneath the man, “I’ll try to gather some food.”

It was not an easy task, as it was rather dark out and also quite cold, but you managed to forage a batch of mushrooms and berries that, together with the provisions you carried, should make a nice meal for the both of you. Upon your return to the cave, you saw Geralt, slowly scurrying through the cave – still in the nude, as he of course did not have any clothing at this time. He had almost finished building a small circle of stones. Next to it, there was a pile of branches and twigs, and a supply of larger blocks of wood. Since there was no axe present, those blocks had to be a testament to his incredible strength.

“It’s freezing,” he said plainly when he noticed you standing there. Yes, the temperature. You had already noticed it yourself, but now that you were faced with this man, sanding upright, completely naked, you rapidly felt the temperature of your body rise as you involuntarily let your eyes glide over his imposing form.

“It is...” you replied, never taking your eyes off of his generous endowment. It truly was freezing. A chuckle escaped him – of course he had noticed your completely inappropriate staring – as he sat back down on the layer of moss you had conjured for him. “I can light it,” you said quickly, before Geralt could move towards the stone circle. You sank to your knees next to it, and quickly built a fire. Then, you focused on cooking the two of you a meal.

“It’s not a lot,” Geralt complained as you handed him his portion of the food you had prepared.

“I’m so very sorry! Naturally, I foresaw these circumstances, yet neglected to pack enough food to accommodate a giant like yourself,” you snapped at him. What did he expect you to do? “What are you, anyway?”

“My father is a half-orc, and my human mother clearly isn’t quite right in the head,” he scoffed. You struggled to suppress a chuckle. As far as you were concerned, his mother had had exactly the right idea... “Though I suspect you would disagree with that.”

“I beg your pardon?” you said, not even feigning indignation at the implication in his remark – it was perfectly genuine. How dare he make that assumption? He was right, of course, but how dare he?

For whatever reason, he decided not to press the matter, finishing his meal without making another sound.

“Your mother was also a werewolf,” you said after swallowing the last bite of your own supper. “Your father likely wasn’t, which would explain why it took so long for your first shift to occur. I take it you’ve been away from home for a while, too?” As you had already expected, Geralt nodded in reply to your question. That just about explained the entirety of his current predicament. When you looked into his eyes, the hint of fear was back again, and you couldn’t help but feel bad for the man.

“Alright, I can tell you haven’t the slightest clue as to what’s happening to you, so I will do my best to explain it as clearly as possible,” you said – not that your knowledge on shape shifters was so vast, but it had already become painfully obvious that you knew more than this poor sod. “If you want, I will stay with you until your transformation is complete."

You expected him to argue with you, to tell you to waste your time on something else, or that he would be alright without you. Instead, Geralt accepted your offer without so much as a single complaint – he truly must have been terrified. It wasn’t unimaginable; things were happening to him that were not only new to him, but beyond anything he had ever imagined he could possibly be.

“What do I have to look forward to?” he groaned as he stretched out on the patch of moss again, not bothering to cover his body with... Well, there was nothing he could possibly cover himself with... Your cloak surely wouldn’t suffice – it would barely be enough to cover one of his enormous legs. Besides, you’d get cold if you handed it to him. To fashion a blanket out of moss would be possible, but it would leave you without a bed, as you were really starting to get tired, and using more magic was out of the question. To leave him bare through the night, however, especially in his current condition, would certainly prove disastrous for him. With the fire still going, his attire – or lack thereof – wasn’t an immediate concern. His question, on the other hand, was.

“You have made it through the worst part; the full shift is unanimously more difficult and more painful than the half shift,” you explained. “It should follow within a few days. In the meantime, prepare to feel... moody – although I suspect it wouldn’t be the first time people say that about you – and restless, generally uncomfortable... There won’t be a lot I can do but keep you company and help you through the shift, but at least you won’t be alone.”

“Thank you,” he muttered, turning onto his side on the makeshift bed. This time, when you looked closely, he shivered. “You don’t happen to have anything larger than that handkerchief you call a cloak, do you?”

“I do not, but if you’re nice and stop insulting my size, I can make you something. It would leave us with just one bed, though,” you said, your tone about as snippy as you felt was to be expected after a remark like that.

“I don’t see a problem, there’s plenty of space for both of us on here,” he replied, his eyes holding something just shy of an apology.

“Alright then,” you said, walking over to him and fashioning a cover out of moss for him. It was large enough to cover both of you, but you opted for your cloak as you lay down on the soft, green, makeshift mattress next to him. He’d been right; there was plenty of space – largely because you, of course, hardly took up any.

“Will it always feel like this?” he said suddenly, just as you informed him that you were going to sleep. “The tearing inside, the... pressure?”

“Not from what I’ve heard,” you said softly, turning around to face him and placing a hand on his cheek, his face almost comically large underneath your tiny hand. “You learn to live with the wolf. Right now, you’d do well to remember that you’re not fighting him; there’s simply no point to it, he’s never going away. He just wants to...”

“Play?” Geralt scoffed.

“You’re being sarcastic, but you’re hitting the nail on the head, actually,” you said in earnest. He looked at you, his golden eyes glowing enticingly in the light of the fire. “He wants to get to know you.” Your gentle touch, combined with your words, calmed him down, and he inhaled slowly and deeply. “Get some rest.” On a deep sigh, he closed his eyes, and before long you heard low and loud snores – echoing through the cave...

“Good morning,” he grumbled. Morning? Was it morning? As far as you were concerned, morning came after a good night’s sleep, and you didn’t get that, so morning? Your tiny little behind!

“To you, maybe,” you snapped, “I didn’t sleep a wink. Caves have quite the echo, you know. And you...” He cut you off, surprising you by putting an arm around you and pulling you against him, his lips close to your ear.

“I’m not asleep anymore,” he growled, “why don’t you get some sleep now.” With one swift move, he wrapped his blanket around you too. Why didn’t you get some sleep? Beg your pardon? As if there was even so much as a remote possibility of getting any sleep. It was morning. And what that meant for this man – who, beneath that blanket that you were now under as well, was still very much naked – was that it was really morning.

“I don’t think I’ll be getting any sleep with that giant...” He cut you off again, this time with a bout of roaring laughter that echoed through the cave loudly enough to give anyone a serious headache. “Alright, that’s quite enough, Geralt.” You got up and paced to the other side of the cave, where you inspected your supplies. There wasn’t a morsel of food left after last night, and your water supply was dwindling swiftly – especially now that you had to share it. “There’s a town, not too far from here. I will stock up on some supplies and find you some clothes. Please tell me you know how to hunt?”

He scoffed – a sound that was positively dripping with disgruntlement at your implication. “Leave me the bow,” he grunted, “not that those... darts will kill anything, but I’ll give it my best.” He reluctantly took the crossbow from you and inspected it. “Do you have a knife?” You could tell he tried not to laugh when you handed him one of your daggers, and he closed his mouth again, swallowing the comment he had been tempted to make. “This will do just fine.” The smile that adorned his brutish features wasn’t quite genuine, but it was close.

As you gathered your things and made your way to the entrance of the cave, he stopped you: “What do you mean ‘a town not too far from here’? You’ll be walking for hours!”

“I was never going to walk, dearest,” you taunted before shifting, leaving Geralt baffled at the sight of a rather unusually large raven before him. By means of a goodbye, you cawed a few times before taking flight.

You returned to the welcome sight of a flickering light coming from the cave, and the smell of roasting meat. It was still light out, leaving you with plenty of time for foraging, and mending the heap of scraps you carried in your pack now would make a fine activity for the evening. The sight you were met with when you entered the cave, however, left a thing or two to be desired.

“Would it be too much to ask that for the few days we call this cave our home, we do not turn it into a pigsty?” you snapped as you stepped around a pile of entrails. “Did it occur to you to take care of these beasts outside?”

“I was going to clean that up,” Geralt growled at you, “you returned sooner than I expected.”

“Does the phrase ‘as the crow flies’ mean anything to you, Geralt?” you retorted.

“You turned into a raven, not a crow,” he replied, his uncalled for stoicism only fuelling your anger.

“I hardly think you are in a position to be a pedantic arse about this!” you exclaimed, balling your hands into fists in an attempt to prevent yourself from saying something you didn’t mean – in the interest of keeping the peace for a few days, of course. After a deep breath, you felt confident you could speak without insulting him: “Thank you very much for providing us with food. Here are some clothes.” You handed him the things you had bought him, which he gratefully accepted.

“I’m almost done cleaning the hides,” he said with a kind smile, “In case you wanted a bed of your own tonight.” By the end of his sentence, his voice dropped, as if the thought of you sleeping anywhere other than next to him brought him sadness. Without another word, he put on the garments you had given him. Luckily, you had gauged his size quite accurately, and they fit him well. “No undergarments?”

You snorted. “I think I happened upon the place where you phased, are these yours?” You tossed the scraps you had gathered at his feet. After a brief inspection, Geralt nodded. “Well, then it seems like you never felt the need to wear undergarments to begin with, Geralt.” He smiled at you – and in this moment you’d have given everything to just be able to say he smiled up at you, but seated on the floor like he was, his face was just about level with yours. There wasn’t a hint of embarrassment to his expression, which irked you – to say the very least.

You ventured out into the forest, looking for something to add to your meal – though you doubted Geralt would have any problem whatsoever with a dinner that consisted solely of meat. During your search, you noticed for the first time how lovely this particular part of the forest truly was. You were lucky enough to find mushrooms, root vegetables and a whole host of berries nearby. From where you stood, you could hear a waterfall, and as you walked towards the sound, you clutched your waterskin and prayed that the water was clean enough to drink. It was! In fact, it was nothing short of absolutely perfect, and the banks of the small creek provided you with even more edible plants and herbs to take with you.

“Darling, I’m home,” you teased as you stepped back into the cave. The pile of guts, you noticed, had been removed – mostly. This night, the two of you prepared your dinner together, while jokes of the domesticity of your current situation became more and more frequent. Outside, a particularly harsh wind had picked up, blowing icy air into the cave.

“Perhaps instead of a second bed, we had better use the hides to shield us from that wind,” you suggested carefully.

“Perhaps instead of making a bed right in front of the entrance of the cave, you could have gone around that corner,” he grumbled, pointing at a part of the cave that would absolutely have been better suited for sleeping, “where we wouldn’t have to worry about freezing.”

“And perhaps,” you snapped, failing to keep your anger out of your voice, “I was utterly exhausted from dragging your gargantuan arse through this forest to keep you from dying!”

“Oh, believe me when I say I appreciate it,” he threw back at you, “but wouldn’t it be such a waste of your precious efforts if we still died...”

“As if that wind would actually kill you!” You rolled your eyes at him while he growled at you, and before you knew it, you found yourself in one of the tensest moments of your life so far.

“It wouldn’t kill you either, but it would be pretty fucking uncomfortable, wouldn’t it?” he sighed impatiently.

The worst part of the argument was that the solution was so mind-numbingly simple that neither of you even dared to pitch the idea of just moving the bed to the other side. Instead, you just kept staring at each other, getting angrier with every passing minute, until – much to your dissatisfaction, you finally couldn’t take it anymore: “Let’s just sleep over there, then!” With a snap of your fingers, the moss disappeared, and with another, it reappeared on the other side. “And lay down and strip, so I can take another look at your injuries.”

“One bed, huh?” Geralt remarked, flashing you that cocky grin you had become far too well acquainted with in the short time you had known the man.

“Shut up,” you replied, “you’re warm. It was quite nice.” Heat rose to your cheeks as you spoke the words, and you were convinced you weren’t wholly able to keep the expression on your face free of the shame you felt.

“I thought so too,” Geralt admitted as he lay down on the bed, nude once more, grinning down at you, seemingly not feeling the same embarrassment that you did regarding the situation.

The wound on his abdomen was as little of a problem as it had been the previous night. This time, the only thing that remained of it was a faint scar that looked far older than it really was. The other injury, however, posed the same problem it had before – only this time you were more than comfortable taking a slightly different approach.

“Do you need me to move my... parts out of the way,” Geralt said mockingly while raising a suggestive eyebrow at you. You sighed deeply. This man was simply impossible!

“Yes, Geralt,” you barked at him, “please move your massive cock, before I do it.” You immediately realized your mistake, as the devious glint in his eyes slowly gained assistance from yet another impossibly smug grin that slowly spread across his face. He did exactly what that look in his eyes foretold: absolutely nothing. “I’m not giving you a happy ending with this healing spell.” You spat your words out at him so harshly that for a moment, his face showed a hint of concern that he had gone too far. “I might castrate you,” you added in a sickly sweet voice that brought the grin back to his face, “but it would be a shame...”

“Finally, something we can agree on,” Geralt chuckled – a sound that was cut short by a grunt when the backs of your fingers brushed past his cock on their way to their destination on his thigh. On the way back, you let your fingertips trail the flesh of his thigh slowly, purposely lengthening the amount of time you spent in contact with his parts. The muscles in his thigh twitched as you ran your fingers over them. This time, you hadn’t made the mistake of straddling his leg, and you cursed yourself for that choice, as in that moment you wanted nothing more than for him to launch you onto his chest again.

“God, you got insanely lucky that whatever bit you even missed the goods, darling,” you muttered before withdrawing your hands, eliciting a deep sigh from Geralt.

“I’m even luckier you found me,” he whispered on a sigh. Without speaking, he held a hand out to you, and you took it. He impatiently tugged at your arm, almost hard enough to make you lose your balance again. Instead, you moved, climbing over him until you were laying to his left, nestled into his side. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, “your touch calms me down.”

“Gods, I almost forgot,” you said, shaking your head in disbelief over your apparent indifference. “How are you feeling?”

“Restless, as you predicted,” he replied. “My senses are annoyingly heightened. You smell good. You feel soft.” He turned to face you, wrapping his other arm around you and pulling you against him and laying his forehead against yours, swallowing hard. “I find myself constantly fighting the urge to touch you, taste you...”

“I might be able to help that restlessness, you know?” you said carefully. As clear as it was what other urges he was fighting – judging from the growing pressure against your leg – you found it best to err on the side of caution.

“I wouldn’t want to hurt you.” His voice was only a low growl in your ear.

“That’s disappointing,” you retorted with a challenging tone to your voice. Suddenly, his eyes opened, the look in them fierce – animalistic, even.

“Fine, is that what you want? For me to tear you apart? Don’t think I can’t smell that sweet little cunt of yours,” he snarled before aggressively pressing his lips against yours. The sudden action made you gasp, and Geralt greedily used the opportunity to invade your mouth with his tongue. When he retreated, you eagerly sucked his bottom lip into your mouth, making him moan as you nibbled on it – quite contently, too. Without hesitation, he reached for the collar of your blouse, tearing the fabric away unceremoniously. You allowed him to explore every bit of skin on your neck, moaning with each sloppy, open-mouthed kiss he pressed to the sensitive skin.

From there, he swiftly moved on to your chest, sucking more than only your nipples into his mouth with remarkable ease. His teeth grazed over your skin, luring a sharp gasp from you as you dug your fingernails into his shoulders.

Now that it was the sound of your own pleasure bouncing off the walls of the cavern, the sound bothered you far less than when it had been Geralt’s horrible snoring.

He moved his hand down over your body, the materials of your clothes shredding under his brutish touch. It didn’t matter; you’d mend them later, right now all you wanted was to feel Geralt’s hands on you.

You cursed softly under your breath when he ran one of his fingers through your folds. A low grunt slipped from his lips as you kissed and licked his neck and jaw, then a louder moan when you sank your teeth into his flesh as he pushed a finger into your slick core. When he added a second, he groaned – as did you.

“There’s no way,” he muttered, making you giggle. The fact that he seemed to struggle to push that second finger into your tight pussy made you giddy with excitement, but you also eagerly took the opportunity to finally flash Geralt a smug smile of your own. The fact of the matter was that you weren’t some porcelain doll.

“Come on,” you taunted, “if you can’t even manage a second finger, how are you ever going to put that big, fat cock inside of me? I can take it, I promise.” He laughed when you threw your head back as his finger finally slipped all the way into you. “That’s it, now give me some more, big guy,” you hissed into his ear, earning you a surprised look that held concern as well as a measure of admiration.

Geralt hesitantly positioned a third finger at your entrance and pushed it into you gently, stopping immediately when he saw your face contort into an expression of what he rightfully believed to be pain. “Are you sure?” he whispered, his face displaying clear disbelief as you nodded.

“Go slow,” you moaned, “I’m more than alright, love.” Slowly but surely, his finger inched its way into your tight canal. You took a moment to get used to the slight burn, allowing your body to relax around the intruding digits and accommodate instead of reject them, and then you looked into Geralt’s eyes as you began to move your hips, your dripping core coating his hand with your juices.

He mimicked the rhythm of your hips, pumping his fingers in and out of you, making you moan with every thrust. “Don’t stop,” you moaned, meeting his movements time after time, your words punctuated by increasingly ecstatic cries, “you’re going to make me cum.” You didn’t have to tell him twice, and moments later, your muscles were clamping down on his fingers, spasming erratically while you came undone.

“Gods, you’re beautiful like that,” he murmured to you, stroking your hair and chuckling lightly when his praise made you squirm in his arms. “I wonder if you’re as beautiful when that pretty little mouth of yours is completely stuffed with my cock.” His lewd words were almost enough to drive you all the way up to another peak...

With ample enthusiasm, you made your way down his body, trailing your fingers over his muscles and through the hair on his chest and stomach, until you were seated comfortably between his immense thighs, clenching your own as you let your eyes glide over his parts. He was absolutely massive – so big, in fact, that you hesitantly reached a hand out to touch him. You had confidently talked the talk, but walking the walk would perhaps prove a bit more challenging than you had initially anticipated…

As soon as your fingers came into contact with the soft skin of his cock, your doubts melted away, and were replaced by an almost feral longing to devour him. Slowly, you allowed your fingers to travel the length of his erection, mapping every pulsing vein and every ridge you encountered carefully, committing them to memory, paying attention to the area around the tip that made Geralt moan softly on his exhales. Finally, you wrapped your hand around his member, only managing to cover just over half of his girth with your small hand.

“Gods, you’re tiny,” Geralt whispered, letting out a delighted chuckle and reaching for your head, guiding you gently into a position where your chin rested near the base of his cock. “Oh, fuck me...” he said in disbelief as he stared down at you.

“That’s the idea,” you replied before sticking your tongue out and licking all the way from the base to the top of his cock. It wasn’t hard to guess what he’d been so mesmerized by; you were fairly confident his erection was longer than your head. Slowly, you swirled your tongue around the head of his cock, carefully keeping an eye on his reactions, before taking him into your mouth.

It was easy to see that Geralt tried his very best to hide his amusement at your frustration when you could barely manage to wrap your lips around his tip – only his very best wasn’t quite good enough, and he failed miserably as he tried to choke back his laughter.

“Where’s that big mouth of yours now that you need it,” he asked with a positively maddening grin on his face, but worse than that smirk was the fact that just as you attempted to pull back to answer him, you felt his hand pushing at the back of your head, leaving you sputtering around his cock. He found it all quite entertaining, while you glared up at him, not at all convinced of the hilarity of the situation. After a few moments, his tone changed, along with the expression on his face. “Come on, little one, I know you can manage a bit more than this,” he said softly as he gently stroked your hair, tangling his fingers lightly in it.

You wanted to get angry with him for calling you that, but you just couldn’t – not only because it was so incredibly true, but also because he said it so sweetly, his voice so full of endearment as he gently urged you to take more of him, that you felt pride and a willingness to please him glow deep within you. With his guidance, you slowly took more of him into your mouth, saliva dripping down his shaft as you inched your way down until you simply couldn’t cope with his girth anymore – and you had still barely made it past the tip.

“A bit more,” Geralt grunted above you – and something in you became instantly wildly annoyed with the man and his ridiculous demands.

Abruptly, you pulled your mouth off of him and snapped: “I can’t dislocate my jaw, I’m not a snake!”

“You’re a druid, right?” he asked suggestively, ignoring the irritation in your voice.

“I don’t even know what to say to that,” you stammered. The notion was so utterly ridiculous that it would be foolish at best to dignify it with a response.

Left without options – other than ‘stopping what you were doing altogether and going to sleep, which was just about the last thing you wanted – you continued your efforts, slipping your lips around the head of Geralt’s cock again. This time, you moved your hands over his length while teasing the tip with your tongue, and you soon revelled in the sound of the moans that escaped him.

He didn’t speak, though occasionally he muttered a soft ‘fuck’ under his breath – the low, gravelly sound of which made you clench your thighs together. They were slick with your own arousal and served as an immediate reminder of the ache between your legs. It was impossible now to stop squirming, searching for the friction that would provide you with relief – something Geralt was quick to notice.

He sat up and plucked you off the floor like you weighed nothing – and to him, you most likely truly didn’t – before laying you down on the moss. He kissed you briefly, and then went on his way, kissing down your body until he reached his destination. Strong hands firmly gripped the back of your thighs, behind your knees, pushing your legs open with demanding force.

He took in your scent, the look in his eyes changing from languid bliss to one of pure animalistic need as he inhaled. The hands left your thighs, only to reappear on your hips, gripping you tightly and pulling you closer as he buried his face in your pussy, eagerly tasting your arousal. In this particular area, his size was clearly an advantage, because his tongue covered so much area that he hit all the right places no matter how he went about it. You squirmed in his arms, begging him not to stop, to keep doing what he was doing until you inevitably came hard on his eager tongue.

“Gods, that was fantastic!” you exclaimed, immediately cursing yourself for your enthusiasm as you heard the arrogant chuckle that he let out as you spoke. Your attempt to move away from him was met with resistance, leaving you powerless in his overwhelmingly strong grasp.

“Stay,” he ordered, “I’m not done with you.”

It was the simplest of truths; as soon as the words had left his lips, he trailed around your clit with the tip of his tongue, teasing you for a moment before flattening the muscle against your swollen little pearl. It didn’t take long for one of his hands to leave your hips, and you felt his fingers at your entrance, eager to plunge deep into your waiting core. This time, they slipped into you with ease, much to Geralt’s satisfaction.

Your climax approached swiftly, and you silently thanked Geralt that he didn’t take the opportunity to be a complete arse about that. Instead, he moaned against your skin as he softly kissed your sensitive clit before moving up again until his lips found yours. Somehow, tasting your own arousal on his capable tongue made you even wetter, and you soon squirmed helplessly as he trapped you beneath his enormous body, unable to move away from him so you could beg him to finally take you.

Eventually, he pulled back, breaking your passionate kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and he pulled you along as he sat up on his knees.

“I was going to ask about the logistics,” he chuckled, “but this seems fine?” You nodded in reply to the question he so cleverly – yet poorly – attempted to disguise as a statement. After checking whether you were really sure about this, he held you up with only one hand, using the other to line himself up to your core.

The intense feeling of his thick cock slowly entering your body made you screw your eyes shut and knocked the air out of your lungs as your pussy struggled to accommodate his incredible girth.

“Too much?” he asked, his eyes locked on yours, looking for signs of discomfort.

“No,” you breathed, gritting your teeth as you tried to get used to the fullness, “keep going, I told you I can take it.” You searched his eyes for the feral need you had seen in them before, but you found nothing other than concern – until you caught a glimpse of the immense restraint he was showing. It was then that you realized that it took absolutely everything he had not to slam you down onto his cock – it took everything he had not to give you exactly what you wanted. “Come on, big guy,” you growled into his ear – as close as you could get to it, anyway, “put this big, fat dick in me. I want to feel every inch of you inside my tiny little cunt.”

Your crude words were rewarded with a pained low grunt, his quickening breathing, and the pounding of his heart in his chest so ridiculously loud that you could hear it when you put your head on his shoulder. Somehow, it wasn’t enough yet, and you didn’t let up on your pleading until he grabbed the side of your face with his hand. One quick look into his eyes told you you’d finally reached your goal; your relentless begging had eaten away at the resolve to take this slow, and Geralt bowed his head to roughly crushed his lips against yours, as he suddenly dropped you all the way down onto his cock.

“Oh Gods, yes!” you shrieked – the sound swallowed by his mouth firmly locked over yours. He did you the courtesy of giving you a few – brief – moments before lifting you off his cock again.

Compared to the second one, his first thrust had been gentle, and he only got rougher as he plunged into your core again and again, making you scream with every last move. They were mostly cries of utter bliss spilling from your lips – only very few escaped you out of pain. Fact of the matter was that the slight burn you felt as Geralt’s thick cock stretched your walls to their limits – and slightly beyond, perhaps – only added to your pleasure, heightened your arousal, and steadily drove you towards the edge of yet another freefall into rapture.

He had been scared to hurt you before, but seeing you so completely overcome with pleasure seemed to change something. Before you realized what was happening, your back hit the moss, and he hovered above you. One of his hands captured both of yours and pinned them to the ground above your head, while the other managed to manoeuvre your legs onto his chest. Geralt chuckled as he took notice of the fact that your feet barely reached up to his neck.

“So fucking small,” he growled before pulling out and slamming his hips into yours, “so tight.” The angle was amazing – you weren’t the only one who thought so, judging from the sounds that came from the enormous man that hovered over you, who muttered an almost uninterrupted string of profanities as he pumped his cock in and out of your aching cunt. With every new thrust, your tight, clenching walls pulled him closer and closer to his release. “Fuck, I’m going to flood this tiny little pussy,” he growled into your ear in between ragged and uneven breaths before erratically chasing his pleasure with complete, reckless disregard for your comfort – just the way you liked it. When he came inside of you, you clamped down on him, milking his fat cock for all it was worth, until every drop of his seed had spilled into you.

You knew the worst was yet to come; the moment he would pull out, and your sore muscles would clench around nothing, cum dripping from your battered hole… And indeed; when the pressure slowly disappeared, you winced and cried out in pain as you had oftentimes before – only now, you were pulled into a strong embrace, and kissed gently on your parted lips as you gasped for air.

When you woke up, Geralt was behind you, curled up comfortably around your body, and you sighed deeply. You hadn’t felt this way in a very long time; connected, sheltered, wanted. An outcast to your kin, you knew you would never be able to return ‘home’. Refusing the hand of the man your parents had chosen for you might have been excused after the first time, if you had followed that with long weeks of grovelling and begging his family for forgiveness, but since you had run away, you had naturally fallen from grace completely, while bringing grave shame upon your family. Since that day, you had often wondered if the freedom your choices brought you had been worth the price you had to pay for it. Now you knew. It was.

You yawned and stretched – or at least; you attempted to do so, but you were captured in the iron grip of Geralt’s embrace, and the strong arm draped over your waist weighed heavy on your body. It was impossible to move. Absentmindedly your fingers traced the bulging veins in his thick forearm while you remembered how those same arms had lifted you up so effortlessly the night before.

For a while, you basked in the glorious aftermath of your… you’d have called it ‘lovemaking’, perhaps, if you had any indication that he felt for you what you were starting to feel for him. For now, ‘tryst’ would have to suffice. You clearly felt the evidence of his presence in your body – you were sore all over, particularly there where you had so gracefully taken the brutal beating that had seemed such a good idea at the time. Not that you regretted your decision, far from it, even! It was rather the case that you had forgotten how taxing your particular proclivity for sizeable appendages could be. And you were sure you’d gladly forget again, in a few short days.

After some time, you really couldn’t stay put any longer. For one because your stomach was growling, and also because – and this matter was indubitably the more pressing of the two – nature was calling. Next to you, your behemoth prison keeper was fast asleep, somehow snoring considerably less annoyingly than the night before.

“Geralt,” you whispered, to no avail, leaving you with no other option than to raise your voice. “Geralt!” Unsurprisingly, that did not work either. It would simply have been far too easy if it had. It was obvious to you that kicking this man anywhere would hurt you more than it would hurt him. He carried both werewolf and orc genes, for crying out loud! You squirmed in his arms, and when that yielded no result either, you cried out. “Geralt, for the love of the Gods, you don’t even have to wake up, but please let go of me!”

“No,” he muttered, voice thick with his continued slumber, “don’t want you to leave.”

“I’m not leaving, you grandiose fool,” you chuckled, “but I do need to… step outside for a moment. I will be back in a minute.”

With a sigh that was indicative of great reluctance, he lifted his arm off you, allowing you to get dressed and set out to do what needed done. Now that you were free of his grasp – though you wouldn’t dream of abandoning him – you scurried through the woods for a moment, in search of something to still the growling of your stomach.

Your quest for food was successful, but as you began to make your way back to the cave, something grabbed your arm pinning you against a tree.

“What do we have here?” the figure – cloaked, of course – spoke in the Elven tongue. It was a dialect you weren’t quite familiar with, but you managed to understand his words just fine as he spoke of his intentions – malevolent, naturally. With your hands pinned in place, you were unable to wield magic, and thus utterly defenceless against the man, leaving you with two options. The first was to suffer his abuse quietly, as you had done countless times before as you travelled the woods by yourself, the other – and preferable – option was to cry out as loud as you could and hope that help would come swiftly.

Under different circumstances, you would have uttered a general cry for help, and though you were certain that that was exactly what you had set out to do, what came out of your mouth was Geralt’s name, loudly, the sound filled with terror and agony.

“Shut up!” the man before you called out, pressing a dagger to your throat. A single tear escaped your eye as a familiar incantation was followed by the growth of vines from the tree, shackling you to it. Now that the man had a hand free, he let go of your hands and trailed your arms until he reached your face. He gently caressed your cheek – a gesture that made you feel sick to your stomach. Then, before his hand could trail further down, another figure appeared behind him. You were fairly confident it was Geralt, but before you could make sure, you were forced to close your eyes as blood splashed in your face.

When you opened them again, you saw the lifeless body of the elf at your feet – a head shorter than he’d been when he’d been threatening to harm you. You stared at the dead man on the ground, letting your hands drop to your sides as the vines disappeared now that their conjurer was no longer among the living.

“G-Geralt… You… You killed him,” you stammered, still attempting to process what had just happened.

“I did,” Geralt growled as he stepped closer. You felt his large hand, heavy on your cheek as he turned your face towards his and kneeled. “Don’t touch what’s…” His voice trailed off, his unfinished sentence heightening the tension between you.

“Say it, Geralt,” you whispered, “please.”

“No one can touch what’s mine,” he snarled softly, staring intently into your eyes. Without thinking, you lunged for him, wrapping your arms around his neck, and pressing your lips to his so fiercely that it made him laugh before he made an effort to match your fiery passion. When he broke the kiss, the look in his eyes had changed. “Are you scared of me?” he asked hoarsely, to which you answered by shaking your head decisively.

“At the very most I’m covered in elf blood, and I’d like something done about that,” you said, stepping away from Geralt to inspect the elf. When you bent down to check the body, Geralt asked what you were doing. “Free cloak,” you answered as you took the thing off the man’s shoulder. The violence from before had left it with a pretty large tear in the fabric, but it was nothing you couldn’t fix.

“That’s stealing,” Geralt mused softly.

You shrugged. “Why? He’s got no use for it now.” Beside the cloak, you found some rations and money. Geralt allowed you to grab his hand and pull him along to the stream, near the waterfall, where you quickly discarded your clothes and stepped into the chilly water. “Come here,” you called to Geralt, who hesitantly followed.

“It’s far too cold for this,” he grumbled as he helped you wash the blood off your body first, and your clothes after that. There was a hint of something else to his voice; a kind of confusion, though you could not quite put your finger on what the cause of it was.

“I’m sure we can find a way to warm up,” you said as you stepped out of the water, the cold breeze raising goosebumps all over your body. Geralt graciously offered you his shirt – a floor-length gown on you that would in no way stay on your shoulders, but at least it was warmer than being fully exposed to the cold air.

That day, as well as the next two, was uneventful; hunting and gathering, the pile of animal hides slowly growing in a corner of the space you occupied.

“We could stay, you know,” you spoke softly one night, as your fingers drew patterns through the hair on his chest and your empty pussy ached after yet another round of passionate lovemaking.

“Here?” Geralt asked, looking around the dark space.

“I know it’s not much, but we could make it into something?” you pleaded. “I haven’t had a home in a while, and I think the same applies to you.”

“My home will be wherever you are, my love,” Geralt whispered, as if that was all there was to it.

#henrycavill fanfic #henry cavill characters #henry cavill fanfiction #geralt of rivia x ofc #geralt of rivia smut #geralt of rivia #geralt x you #fantasy au #werewolf geralt

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rinseveryday · 2 years ago

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hair shock infinite

#nearly cried when he went white anime boy #so glad kato gave him back his dark hair #fanart #not chibi #aoex #blue exorcist #ao no exorcist #rin okumura #okumura rin #my art

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secretbangtnn · 4 years ago

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Best Of Me | One

Pairings : →ot7 x reader, poly!BTS x reader

Genre : → vampireau, yandere!au, age gap, gore, obsessive behavior, ddlg/caregiver, poly, fantasy, supernaturals

summary : It’s quite unusual to find a little baby on your doorstep, especially that their area was not of the poorest - you could say that a vampire town was efficient with money and snobby creatures. However over time the first idea of just giving back the little girl seems more and more radical and those moody vampires slowly start perceiving deeper feelings to human they even wanted to kill.

notes ~

So im not really as happy as i wanted to be with this chapter, but its the first one that i needed to translate. Suprisingly Its easier for me to write the whole thing myslef than translating it from my native language. + Remember to leave something and im happy to say that we can start an ask game with the characters from my books

Surprisingly this day was awfully ugly for such a beautiful season. Heavy rain was falling on the ground creating the big sheets of wall with those millions droplets that practically covered the whole view outside of the freshly cleaned window.

Tired sigh pierced the quiet, as for the household members, house only causing the weird tension to increase that was there from the early morning. Dark hair of the boy moved with him, now facing the cold, wet window.

Hyung…” Groaned the boy crashing on the couch closing the eyes in the process a little frustrated. Walking just next to him, a little taller man with bright yellow hair, looked at the dark haired one with a tired stare.

“I don’t have time Jungkook, go torture Yoongi or something.” A snort came out of the older one after the not so innocent proposition, as he kept carrying the big basket full of clothes.

And again he was alone. The youngest of the brothers, being the one who never knew what to do with his free time, wandering in the halls and every couch he could spot in their cosy house. His dark chocolate hair falling on his face, a little too long for his liking, but he was too lazy to actually do something with them.

Again that not happy groan left his lips, and wriggling similar to a child that did not get a toy he wanted, in the end forcing him to sit on the couch with a big pout. It was not normal in this household, the whole quiet and calm act, especially considering the residents he shared the home with.

They are more similar to animals than gentelems that appreciate a quiet time. So the weird atmosphere was definitely an unsettling thing for the youngest.

Again looking at the dark view outside the window, he tried to see the cause of all of this. Completely as if something was meant to happen, like the quiet before the storm.

And let me tell you, Jungkooks 6th sense never fails. Just as he thought that maybe just maybe this time he was wrong, a ring echoed in the whole household.

“Someone is gonna open it?!” He shouted being too irritated to even do it himself, despite being the closest to the doors.

Of course, nobody answered. So angry he was at this moment he got up from a nice cozy couch and with heavy steps he came to the big chunk of the wood.

He opened the door not that gently, mumbling an annoyed “what?”

So how irritated he got when he saw nothing, a void, the same doorstep and gate that stood there everyday, now with a big wall of rain to spice up the view. He looked around, now a little confused, while thinking that maybe someone was in the mood for jokes. But how stupid the idea of that was when he remebered, that for his hundreds years of living in this world the first time that actually someone managed to make fun of him was today.

And oh god he started to get so pissed.

So imagine how shocked he was when just before he closed the door he heard a really unusual sound coming from his feets. Unhappy sobs rang in the quiet afternoon immediately attracting his attention.

The young vampire was more than shocked, looking at the child in the pille of pastel colored blankets. Small sobs now increased in a big crocodile's tears with disturbing sounds of the kids crying.

“��No, no, no, please be quiet, we don’t want to wake up the old, ugly, moody grandpa. do we?” He panicked, whispering the words to the child that now laid in his arms. He just prayed that the actual old vampire really didn't take up because of the cries.

As the kid started to calm down, he stared at it with an unreadable emotion. It was a weird feeling, holding the delicate creature in his arm, knowing that just one wrong move, and the child would never cry again.

So what was that feeling that stirred down his stomach as the little creature grabbed his finger with a big open mouth. The sick emotion only made him panic even more, while looking back inside the house.

He decidied,. Sneaking was nothing new for his ninja move, and he strongly believed in his skills of not getting caught with a surprise in his arms. In the end the spiderman socks were a good choice, as their soft material made nearly no sound on the floor.

His stress level went higher with each step that brought him closer to the room that he knew he could not miss. The sound of a knife and cutting rung in his ears is similar to the music in horror music he likes to watch, now making him understand a feeling of pure fear.

Eyes closed while praying that the blonde man won’t turn around catching him in his act. But how wrong he was to believe in such a miracle. Nothing and absolutely gets past Kim Seokjin.

“Jeon Jungkook…” He died, completely freezing in place. Not opening his eyes he waited thinking that maybe it was just his head messing with him, and the blonde boy never actually turned to him. “What have you done again. If I need to clean the mess once again from the ketchup, I'm not going to…”

And as Jungkook thought that nothing can go worse, the little chil laughed a happy giggle while making the grabby hands for his bracelet.

“Jungkook?...What exactly are you holding?” The question like a knife cutted the heavy atmosphere in half. The silence just after that louder than everything he has heard before. He was even sure that he felt his nonexisting heart stopping. “Did you fucking steall a child?! I can’t be…”

“No! It’s not like that I swear I found it on our doorstep.”

“Do you really think think I am that stupid? How even the child could just appear there hm? Rolled there or better flyed on its plush unicorn?”

“Hyung, please you are going to wake up others.” He didn’t even hesitate to beg, looking at the blonde with such terrified eyes. The child in his arms happily munching on his bracelet completely unaware of the tension.

“Why would I care about others! You brought a child Jungkook, how can i be calm!?”

Dark haired unconsciously looked around with gritted teeth, now just waiting for the rest to appear. And he did not need to wait long, as just after he looked back at the blonde, someone came from the other side of the kitchen door.

Tall man with peachy hair and raspy voice, trying to get rid of the rest of his sleep, now scratching his head with confused expressions. Who wouldn’t be confused in this place, seeing a literal child in a house full of old vampires.

“What is this mess all about? You know what hour it is?” Said the tallest one. Blondie one only snorted as if offended while crossing his arms. “What?”

“Nothing.” Oldest mumbled irritated. The tallest only raised his brow, and repeated the question once again. Jungkook being now forgotten with the child trying to catch his attention with little sounds. “You dare to remind me of the hour?! Do you know how many nights I didn’t sleep because of you! If I just could silence you for good, you would have long ago ended like the voldemort, yes i'm talking about that nose of yours”

The taller one immediately touched his nose gasping not believing in what he just heard, now trying to silently disappear from the harash stare of his older brother.

As the peach hired one hid behind a counter, the attention now came back to the snaking Jungkook. More pairs of footsteps rang in the quietness of the home, slowly showing other people.

“Jin-hyung is angry again? What happened I want to see.” Announced the newcomer, sliding on his perfectly white socks.

“Who is angry here?! You want to see how angry I can be you...you…”

“You silly goose?”

“No that's to lame.”

“Dipshit?”

“You dipshit! Thank you Namjoon.” He finished with a red face. The newcomer only rolled his eyes, while making the shortest of the brothers that came with him laugh.

“Since everyone is here…” The tallest started.

“Wait, where is Yoongi.” Asked the red haired one, while leaning on the counter with a mysteriously made coffee.

“Here.” All of them shouted, hearing the sudden voice, and seeing the new person that appeared with a lightning of thunder. “So what’s this mess about?”

Everyone in the room simultaneously looked at the dark haired boy that immediately stopped in his tracks hoping for some power that could help him disappear. All the eyes slowly drifted down his arms, now staring at a bundle of blankets that started to move as if it knew of the attention.

“What is that?” Asked the tallest looking straight at the irritated blonde.

“Don’t ask me, I’m not the one that gives such a stupid example, making those idiots steal children.”

The kitchen is now again quiet, all the eyes on the little creature in the arms of the youngest. Only sound now being the child starting to sob again, making everyone tense.

“Shut it up you morons.” Said second oldest, annoyed at the loud cries. The blonde didn’t waste time, knowing how bad noise is for the black haired. Small body now shuddering because of the sobbing making the oldest coo at the little child.

His arms soon hold the bundle of blanket, trying to calm the kid down with his baby voice. It wasn’t hard to get lost in its eyes, them being mysterious and full of innocence, drawing up the blonde one. His big hand now on its red cheek, trying to feel the texture of the soft skin under his fingers.

And as the cries never happened, the child started giggling again trying to grab Seokjin hands with such a beautiful smile. It was a really soft sight to see making them all calm and giddy inside. But as the child opened its mouth Seokjin's smiles disappeared.

“What the matter?” Asked Namjoon a little bit taken aback by the change of his hyungs mood. The oldest only looked back at the rest of them with a terrified expression.

“It's a human.”

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sweetchup · 3 years ago

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Bi•valve

Noun

an aquatic mollusk that has a compressed body enclosed within a hinged shell, such as oysters, clams, mussels, and scallops.

AKA

The Most Common Seashell in the Ocean

————————

Vol. 1: Just Keep Swimming // Ch. 5

Type: Poseidon x reader

Word Count: 1,600

Masterlist

————————

“Triton! Triton!”

As you run through the festival, Your echoing cries make people stop and turn but you could hardly care. You had already made it around most of the campus by then and had grown used to their stares.

“Triton! Where are you?” You call out again, leaning over the barrier of another art major's tent to look at the children in there. Hoping, Praying, that Triton was one of them.

“(Y/n)!” At the sudden call, you are suddenly pulled backwards. Spinning around you see it was none other than Bryce, with Yuri and Paul following close by.

“Bryce. T-Triton was—“ You stutter out, pawing at the male’s shirt as you try to get a simple sentence out in your jumble of thoughts.

You wanted to scream out. To cry. You wanted to tell him how you didn’t mean to leave Triton alone. How you thought he would be safe with Paul and Jeremy. How you didn’t think that someone would sneak into the tent while the kitchen staff were busy. How a stranger was able to lead Triton away and you didn’t even notice until someone came running to tell you later that he was missing.

You felt yourself internally sob in as you continued to recount what happened a mere half an hour ago. The feeling left you queasy and you felt as if your knees were about to collapse.

“Shh. I know. I heard what happened to your son.” Bryce says as he attempts to console you. All of a sudden the wind picks up and Bryce instantly pulls you closer to him. “Woah!”

Bryce watches in surprise as some of the tents and decorations are knocked down by the wind. As if they were as light as leaves. Easily snapped and drifted up as the wind pleased.

“We have to get out of here.” Yuri tells your group as she stares up to the sky. A dangerous mixture of dark stormy clouds were beginning to roll in. A telltale sign it wasn’t a bright idea to stay outside for much longer.

“I-I Can’t!” You stutter out as Bryce begins to pull and lead you back into the direction of the school buildings. “I need to find Triton!”

“(Y/n). You have to—“

“No!” You yell out, cutting Bryce off as you struggle against his grip. You didn’t want to listen to what they had to say. For—to you—it meant another second, or minute, waisted when you could be finding Triton.

Finally, after a bit more of struggling, you free yourself from Bryce’s grip. You planned to only give a bit of space between you and the others but then Bryce lunges at you to grab you again and you end up taking off in a sprint.

As you run through the crowd, your vision is a mix of colors. A blurry and unfocused Sea that you attempt to escape from. The only thing you ever think to focus on are the hints of colors of blondes that you pass by. Pausing for a second to check to see if it was Triton only to run off again.

It, in a way, reminded you of the first time you met Triton. How you saved the strange blonde boy that was sucked out in the stormy seas. Except this time it was from a sea of strangers, Humans. You just hoped this time you would find him.

Save him.

Wherever he was and from whoever he was with.

(Y/n)…

You feel yourself freeze as you hear your name being called. At first you thought perhaps Bryce and the others had caught up to you but you then realized that wasn’t the case. The voice you heard did sound familiar but it wasn’t normal. It echoed as if it was from a far off place. Nowhere near where you were.

…(Y/n)…

“Yes, Hello?” You call out, steering your head to look around the sea of people. Hoping to catch whoever was calling you.

…Go to the….Triton…

“I can’t hear—“ You are cut off as someone in the crowd bumps into you, nearly knocking you off your feet. You needed to get out of this crowd if you wanted to fully hear the voice. Especially with the sharp winds that were blowing in.

Helplessly, you maneuver and squeeze your way through the crowd. Thankfully finding a way out only a few minutes later near the edge of campus. Though eventually you realize that it wasn’t that great as it was an edge of campus you rarely traveled to. The only thing you knew about it was that it held a path through the woods to a rocky beach that only spelled trouble. If you didn’t get injured from the crashing harsh waves then you would likely get caught and in trouble by Campus Police for trespassing. Perhaps even both.

…Through the…Go…

“Through the path?” You question out loud, confused at how the voice was cutting in and out. Leaving you unable to get an accurate answer.

You wait for the voice to answer but it never comes, leaving you with you to make the final choice. In hindsight it wasn’t that hard as there were only two options. Either turn around to safety or go into danger.

You knew what you would do. You would do what you always did. You would turn—

It was then when you step forward into the path, with no fear or thoughts whatsoever, that you surprise yourself. You can’t help but wonder if you changed. How you changed.

Was it when you first saved Triton at the beach that caused it?

That caused the girl that hated crowds to run through them. The girl that hated confrontation to argue against her friends. The girl that ran away from danger to run into it.

You couldn’t help but wonder. But at the same time you didn’t. You couldn’t.

…Faster…

You couldn’t as you stumble and sprint down the path to the beach. As you hear the voice chanting, ordering you to go faster. To get to the beach quicker.

…Faster… Faster, (y/n)….

Even as your lungs are sucked out of oxygen. Even as your legs burn in agony. Even as your knees and palm sting from tripping and falling only to get up again.

You don’t stop. You can’t. You know you can’t.

Especially as you see the small beach through the brush and catch the sight of…

…Blonde.

And Red. Scarlet red that scattered and dripped from his pale skin.

“Triton!” You scream out without thinking, running through the sand to the boy. Lifting his limp body from the sand as you carefully shake him. “Triton…Triton.”

The young boy opens his eyes and looks over at you. Though it is only for a second as he shuts them again as he groans.

“Triton. Where. Where does it—“

A loud defining bang cuts you off. Surprised you spin around to look behind you. Looking at the crater in the sand that laid a few feet away from you, you connect eyes with someone.

“Marissa…”

As you call the name of your classmate in front of you, they begin to walk out of the crater towards you. Shuffling in sand, you cradle Triton in your arms and begin backing up.

No, you know that isn’t your classmate, that ‘thing’ in front of you isn’t even human. Wild pink hair, slit like green eyes, pointy teeth and claws. Nothing, nothing, about her was human.

“B-Back up.” You order out to the thing in front of you. Could you even run away from her? No, it created a crater in the ground, you couldn’t run away. You couldn’t even fight it. “You… better back up.”

Fight or flight. Both were useless in this situation.

Your body knew it as well as it seemed to freeze up as the thing gets ready to lunge at you. As if your bones had turned to ice and your organs had shut down. You felt like you couldn’t even breathe. Like if you dare to do, you would perish.

Fight or Flight. Your main instincts. Your survival instincts.

As the thing finally lunges at you, you finally breathe again. The fresh intake of air seemed to restart your body and then you realized Fight or Flight wasn’t your main instinct. It wasn’t why you came down here.

You had to protect Triton. He was your son. He was more important than yourself.

Even as you shake in fear, your motherly instincts take over your body and you are able to cover Triton. Spinning yourself away so that thing can only pierce you.

So that only your warm blood will flood out, leaving a harsh smell of iron in the air. So that Triton will be able to escape in time. So that Triton will be safe.

And when you finally feel the warm crimson liquid drip down your body and into your clothes, you find yourself gasping.

You went to grab the clawed hand that pierced through your torso. Hoping to grab onto it to stop Marissa from grabbing Triton, giving the boy enough time to run. But found yourself unable to. For it was never there in the first place.

A loud thud brings you back to reality and you find yourself looking up from the sand. Staring at the top half of Marissa’s—that thing’s—Body. It’s guts and blood pooling and mixing into the grainy sand.

“H-How…”

You find your voice die down in your throat as you turn your head to look behind you.

Blonde Curly hair, Icy piercing blue eyes,…

…Pale marble skin, Covered head to toe in blue, white and gold,…

…A Trident by his side…

There was no doubt in your mind who was behind you.

“P-Poseidon…”

Author Note: Ahhh Poseidon finally appears! The romance portion of this story finally starts hahaha. Thank you for being patient and waiting until Poseidon appears. I wanted to give a nice character development before he appears. Can’t wait for the next update on Thursday!

Taglist: @angeli-fucking-cat @marixxhq @sproutcorner @orophaea @anime-lover-forever-1127

#shuumatsu no valkyrie #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #snv poseidon x reader #snv #snv poseidon #record of ragnarok #bivalve

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shoutogepi · 4 years ago

Text

Catboy!Shouto

Todoroki Shouto

word count : ~2K (blurb!)

[ ☀︎ ] fluff!!

bio : general catboy!sho hc’s. initial meeting all the way to relationship.

author’s note : a midnight hc that got WAY out of hand. fair warning idk what the fUCK this is, whatever it is is all astrid’s fault. i decided to make this bc i suck at finding fics and i rly wanted to read something about a snuggly catboy!sho.

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

in my opinion, shouto is already very catlike in certain respects.

he’s aloof and likes to watch rather than engage. he’s very intelligent and he’s driven when he wants to be. and not to mention he’s very loyal to those few that have melted through his ice-protected heart. he’ll probably also only allow physical interaction if he’s the one initiating it...

you didn’t adopt him in human form. at some point you got a cat and you thought that was it— that it was merely a cat. a cute one at that, split down the middle like a patched together hand-me-down. he reminded you of a ragdoll because of his peculiar colors, even though his coat was sleek and shiny. he also had a very prominent air of elegance... overall, a very pretty cat.

however, he wasn’t the nicest animal at first. he was skittish and guarded. he really only interacted with you in order to get food and water, and he didn’t allow you to touch him all too much. any time you had friends over there was no chance he’d be spotted, always hiding in the shadows of your closet or the safe space underneath your bed. when your company would leave, he would slowly crawl out, watching you from a respectable distance as you tidied up before heading to bed.

even though he was kind of a dick, you spoiled him silly. you bought him his own bed since he refused to even go near you. he had his own cat tree and everything, and ample toys too. that was how he first began warming up to you.

you had managed to pique his interest by dragging a ribbon toy across the floor and disappearing around the doorframe. you had been over the moon when he had poked his little head into the room, pupils wide as he eyed the ribbon with intense curiosity.

the morning after that, you had awoken to find him sitting on the very far corner of your bed. it was as far as he could possibly be from you while staying on the mattress, but you were elated nonetheless.

— - —

from then on, your relationship was a little steadier with the feline. he would follow you around your place, always in the same room as you but forever out of reach. occasionally he would allow you to give him a little scratch behind the ear or under the chin, but he would get up and leave after a few seconds of affection.

it wasn’t until he came down with a minor kitty cold that your relationship changed. you took him to the vet. he hated it. he was such a misbehaved boy, but when you had nearly cried as you frantically apologized for his behavior, he strangely became limp, a disgruntled expression on his cute little face.

you took him home and attempted to administer the medicine, even if he hissed and growled at you when you approached him with the distinct vial. you tried to give it to him, and he lashed out and scratched you for the very first time.

it was just a little cut, but it was enough to draw blood. you left the medicine with him and closed yourself away in the bathroom as you tended to your wound, irritated that after all you’d done for him he still treated you like shit. but he was a cat, you reckoned, and so you instantly dropped any malice that had come forth in those few minutes. when you opened the door again, he was sitting at the doorway, ears flat to his head and head lowered, the medicine vial resting before his paws.

after that he allowed you to administer the medicine without complaint. he just layed there and would blink lazily at you while you moved him accordingly, never fussing at all. it was clear that he was sick initially, but each time you gave him that medicine he became more and more like himself. he looked strong and healthy once again. you were relieved.

your relationship kept improving. he would now let you pet him from time to time. sometimes he would even jump up and settle himself into a little loaf next to you as you watched TV or typed away at your laptop. he began sleeping closer to you, sometimes on your feet, sometimes on the vacant side of your bed. the sound of his low purrs lulled you to sleep.

things started getting strange when you started going out with someone you had met. you’d given your number to them when they’d asked for it out of the blue. it was all very innocent, nothing too crazy. just a coffee here and there, really.

that was when shouto started becoming more affectionate with you. he would let out a loud meow in greeting when you came home, running to the door to meet you and promptly sticking his head into the shoes you slipped off your feet. he would sit with you as you went through the work you brought home, even nuzzle your ankles while you made yourself dinner. he would start to sit on your lap when you were watching the television.

he would even let you kiss his head , and he’d slowly blink at you when you praised him for all his handsomeness, for how good of a boy he was. he even started slipping into the sheets with you, allowing you to hold him close as you drifted off into slumber, and kneading at your blankets as the two of you fell asleep together.

but coffees turned into lunches. and lunches to dinners. you started spending less and less time at your place, and he would find himself watching the clock on the wall as he waited for your return. though when you finally would, later and later with each passing date, he was not pleased to find your scent mixed with another’s.

he had stayed in cat form for a very long time. perhaps he shifted into human form when you weren’t home, you didn’t know. you thought he was your cat, and that was the end of it. all you knew was that one morning, you woke up, expecting to have your snuggly companion curled up into your side as usual.

instead, there’s a whole ass MAN tucked into the sheets beside you, long leg slung over yours and his arm wound round your waist. what’s even wilder is that two cat ears stick out of the silky hair on his head, colored the distinct red and white of the fur you have become so accustomed to. a long, furry tail also rests on your thigh, brushing against your skin.

he’s also butt ass naked.

to say you’re shook is an understatement. thankfully he’s laying on his stomach, so you don’t see anything indecent. you weigh your options here— this man is so obviously your cat, there’s no way he’s not. but you have a cat, and this is a man!! man-cat? you can’t care to know the correct terminology.

you decide not to scream, but you shuffle backwards. it’s enough to disturb the creature, and his heterochromatic eyes peel open slowly. he sees you looking at him, and still weighed down by sleep, a mild, content smile curls his lips and a loud purr rumbles out of him. then his eyes move down and he catches sight of his own arm around you, and he scrambles off the bed, ears tucked back and tail bristling as he trips over the sheets.

after you find some clothes for him to wear, you have a rather awkward conversation over breakfast. turns out that he’s been capable of turning into this human form the whole time, but he had become accustomed to life as a cat and preferred it to being a human, as he had a hard time fitting in with his big ears and long tail. you reckoned you, too, would live as a cat if you had the option... especially with such a doting and caring owner as yourself.

now though, you can’t really refer to yourself as his owner. he’s a person, just like you— he just harbors many of his cat-like qualities.

initially it’s hard to adjust, knowing he’s also a man (and a very handsome one, at that). you buy him some clothes and start to cook meals for the both of you. what else are you gonna do, throw him out onto the street?

your interactions become a little forced... you’re just really confused as to how you’re supposed to act around him. he seems to sense your unease, and he shifts back into a cat in order to comfort you. he walks right up to you and hops into your lap, standing up to put his front paws onto your chest, and leaning in to rub his cheek across yours, finishing off with a quick lick of affection.

apparently, he has missed the attention the both of you had become so accustomed to giving/receiving. so, the moment you hesitantly begin to rub his ears, he starts to purr loudly, settling on your lap/chest. he’s really warm and soft, so you end up wrapping your other arm around him and continuing to pet his head.

it becomes routine for you to have this nightly cuddle before bed, but after you’re finished with pretending to pay attention to the tv, you tell him goodnight and shut yourself into your bedroom for the night.

no longer does he receive your praise nor your kisses, and it’s taking a toll on him. he’s needy!! you’ve conditioned him to soak up all your love and now you just stop?

so eventually he’ll sack up and knock on your door, asking why you won’t let him sleep with you anymore. he knows you’re intimidated by his human form, but he thinks the reason is because you’re scared of him. you hesitantly let him know it’s really just because you’re attracted to him. and what do ya know, he feels the same.

another reason why you’d been avoiding him that you’d rather die than tell him is that you’re embarrassed that you just straight stared at him in shock when he used your toilet like a human. eye contact and everything. this was back when you’d first gotten him but now you’re just overwhelmed with residual embarrassment LOLLLLL anyways...

from there your love blossoms !! yay!

now he will walk around your place in his human form more often than cat form. though sometimes he does like to be in kitty form so he can sit on your lap while you’re working at your desk.

snuggles become a norm. he’s very affectionate. absolute cuddle bug.

stressed? cuddles.

happy? cuddles.

bored? cuddles.

i cannot emphasize this enough!!! hold him!! he lives for it! he is baby.

he still loves playing with all the toys you buy him. and what’s hilarious is that he can’t seem to help himself from fixating on those little aluminum twist ties that you keep in the kitchen. he doesn’t know why, but when you toss them across the room he’ll just run for it. nyoom!!

makes sure to bring it back like a good boy every time.

a really good investment is a laser pointer. human or cat, once that little red dot is spotted, you can bet he’s chasing it. this has resulted in broken furniture more than once LOL. at the end of your little play session you guide the laser over to you and he’ll pounce on you!! cue more cuddles.

as if all the snuggles he gives you through the day aren’t enough, falling asleep is complete bliss.

he’ll slip into your covers and wrap his long limbs around you. lithe fingers will caress your skin and your hair, and if you return the favor, he’ll start to purr softly for you. he’s totally into nuzzling you, too. he’ll just nestle his face right into your neck and breathe your scent in, completely at peace. and he can’t help it when his purrs grow louder, an indication of his complete content.

more rarely he’ll come out into public with you, provided he wear a beanie or something to cover those cute perky ears of his. the tail he can tuck into his pants just fine. when he’s out and about with you, he’ll likely stay right by your side, an arm over your shoulder, around your waist, or your hand held hostage by his.

when you’re out on these rare excursions, he will often ask for a boba or a latte—he loves to indulge in those sweet milky drinks every now and then. plus it makes him happy when you’re happy, and you always get excited when you get one for yourself too.

overall 10/10 would recommend adopting catboy!sho. he will give you all the love and snuggles necessary and he’ll be more than happy to accept your affections too.

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

so... can you guys tell i’m a cat person?

(づ｡◠ ‿ ◠｡ )づ <3 <3 <3

➥ masterlist thanks for reading!! hope u enjoyed whatever... this was LOL

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

#todoroki shouto fluff #todoroki shoto fluff #todoroki shouto fic #todoroki shoto fic #mha fluff #mha fic #bnha fluff #bnha fic #bnha hc #mha hc #todoroki shouto hc #todoroki shoto hc #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #cat boy todoroki #cat boy shouto #my fics

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slasherscream · 4 years ago

Text

All I Wanted

pairing: Stu Macher x reader x Billy Loomis

summary: you’ve been with stu for awhile now and it’s a dream. your relationship is everything you’ve ever wanted... until you realize his best friend, billy, is in love with him. worse than that stu might be in love with him too.

You didn’t realize it all at once. However you’d imagined the way someone would act in a relationship while being madly in love with someone else wasn’t the way Stu acted. He’d been the one to ask you out, and it was sudden. He went from being a friend of a friend - someone you nodded to in passing at parties - to a constant presence overnight. That was just the way Stu did things, all at once or not at all. You had been wary of his newfound position as your personal satellite. It was overwhelming, frankly. But there was only so long you could keep up your polite attempts at distance and rejection. Like a determined, yapping dog he chased after you until you had no choice but to hear him out, if only to get some peace and quiet.

It started as one date, just so you could say you’d given him a fair chance. Then you went on another date, because the first date had actually been fun. Eventually you stopped keeping track of how many dates you let Stu drag you on. His personality didn’t change, he was still a little brash and loud. A party animal that could wear out even other energetic extroverts... but you discovered there was more to him than the way he acted in large group hangouts or wild ragers. He softened when it was just the two of you. Like a talented actor that takes a deep breathe once they’re off stage, done playing a draining character for an eager and judgmental audience.

That shift, however slight it was, was the thing that won you over. The reason why you kept saying yes to dates, laughed when he tossed you onto his shoulder, let him pull you into his lap with little more than a bashful smile. It was the reason why, after a few months of this gentle drifting around one another, you asked him, “are we... together together?” And it was the reason why you smiled so wide he couldn’t give you a proper kiss when he said yes.

Being with Stu was a bit of a package deal in that you also got his best friend Billy through sheer proximity. At first you didn’t really talk to each other. After your relationship with Stu became official it felt weird to not talk to one another, considering how much you saw each other. Billy was not like Stu. He became a person in your life gradually. Your relationship growing from half-assed greetings from Billy and awkward waves from you; to asking each other about your respective weekends; to studying together for shared classes; to talking adamantly about movies; to saying hello with hugs and smiles; to hanging out with one another even if Stu wasn’t around- which was rare but made you smile nonetheless as Billy was a man who kept his circle small, to say the least.

Around the same time that you realize that you’re in love with Stu you also realize you aren’t the only one. You’d like to think of yourself as an observant person but even a blind man could see the way Billy looked at Stu. You were actually embarrassed that you hadn’t seen it in the first place. The way he searched for Stu whenever he entered a room. The way he’d stifle smirks at (terrible) jokes he’d reach out and hit the blond for. The way Billy never shrugged Stu off whenever he'd inevitably drape his body over Billy’s in some - obnoxious - way. The way he let Stu talk through his favorite scenes in movies without telling him to shut up... usually. You noticed all these little things, your gut twisting a little with each observation.

You found yourself looking up at Stu during a movie night, watching the TV throw neon color against his face instead of the TV itself, and the understanding that you loved him washed over you warmly and easily. The feeling was a sharp contrast to the screams of the character on the screen being brutally murdered. Your eyes just happened to drift away from your boyfriend’s face to behind him, where Billy was sitting. He too was watching Stu instead of the movie. You’d seen the look on his face plenty, though you hadn’t seen it on his face in particular before. Or maybe you had, you thought to yourself, lead settling in your stomach and throat, you just hadn’t known it. Hadn’t wanted to know.

If there was anything Billy was good at it was keeping his feelings close to his chest, never revealing his cards. You made eye contact for just a moment before he hastily looked away but it was enough. You knew without a doubt, in that one moment of vulnerability that one of Billy’s secrets was that he was in love with Stu.

You let the new knowledge settle in your mind for a long while. Kept watching their interactions, but with a new understanding. Which is how you came to an even worst conclusion. That Stu was in love with Billy too.

If you’d felt blind before you didn’t know what you were now. It was so obvious. Stu couldn’t keep a secret for the life of him. He chased after Billy the way he chased after you. Hungry for the slightest bit of attention or acknowledgement, lighting up like the sun when it was given. It would’ve made you smile if it didn’t break your heart.

You didn’t realize you’d come to a decision until you’d already begun the actions to support it. Distancing yourself. Cancelling dates. Shying away from a hug, and then a kiss, and then nearly everything. Not picking up calls or returning texts. You believed firmly in communication in a relationship up until this point but you didn’t know how to say I can’t watch you be in love with someone else when I’m so in love with you I don’t know what to do with myself. You didn’t know what bad rom-com to watch that would help you figure out the right words to tell him so you didn’t tell him anything at all.

You don’t know why you thought someone as stubborn as Stu would just accept the slow detangling of your lives that you were trying to achieve.

“What’s going on?” He asked without hesitation, ambushing you outside of your last class of the day. You sighed and dragged him to the classroom next door that was open but thankfully empty.

Leaning against the teacher’s desk you buried your head in your hands, throat already tight and eyes already stinging. “I think we should break-up.”

“What?” You didn’t have to look up to know the crestfallen face he was making, he was always so expressive you could hear it perfectly in his voice alone.

“I want to breakup.” You repeated, willing your voice not to break.

“Why? What did I do wrong? I’m sorry - whatever I did I swear I’m sorry,” you felt a hand on you then, trying to pry yours away from your face, trying to drag you into his arms and you flung yourself out of his reach. In doing so you caught a glimpse at his face and your chest went tight. He looked seconds away from begging and you knew you couldn’t withstand that. Knew it would break your heart more than it was already broken and you didn’t know how that could be. Didn’t know how the ache in your chest could get worse but you could feel it already. “Baby please let’s just talk about this-”

“I have to go. I have to go, I have to go-” You shoved past him to leave the room and ignored his cries for you to come back, slow down, please come back -

You sat in your car, head against the steering wheel for a long time before you drove home. You wanted to wait until you stopped crying to drive.

You didn't have to turn off your phone. It rang so much that eventually the battery died and you didn't even have to get out of bed. You laid there still for hours, not sure you were feeling anything at all until you heard your window sliding open. You scrambled for the light on your nightstand, switching it on in a panic only to deflate when you saw it was only Billy crawling through your window.

He looked absolutely livid.

“Hi Billy,” you managed, even though you didn’t want to see anyone right now. Especially not either of the boys.

“What the fuck?” He spat.

“I’m doing wonderfully thank you for asking. How are you?”

“Don’t be cute you know why I’m here.” He stalked across your room and loomed over your bedside, clutching the headboard so hard his knuckles were white. You looked at his hands for a long moment and then up at his face, so close to yours you were breathing the same air.

“Sorry. Sit down with me please.” You patted the space beside you and waited for him to give in despite his anger. Eventually he climbed onto your bed, with his shoes on but you didn’t scold him like you usually would considering the circumstances.

“I broke up with Stu, as you know,” you started.

“Is that what you’re calling that bullshit you pulled?”

You sat for a long moment, gathering your thoughts. You didn’t want this conversation to last for long. Just seeing Billy and having to think more on your unfortunate love life was like digging your fingers into a festering wound.

“Do you want to know why?” Before he could answer you continued, “You’re in love with him and he’s in love with you and I can’t get in the way of that.”

Silence settled in the room, oppressive. You weren’t uncomfortable though. You allowed it to be quiet for a moment, letting your words sink in. “You’re in love with each other and I’m not mad at either of you. How could I be? I’m the one who came into your relationship. Before me it was just the two of you.”

“But just because I’m not mad doesn’t mean I can hang around and watch you two want each other so...so much,” your voice breaks and there’s the all-too familiar pressure behind your eyes that you can’t help, “it’s too much for me, Billy, and it’s not fair. Not to any of us.”

You move so that you’re no longer sitting beside him, but in front of him, and you take his hand and clutch it between your own. You’re surprised you’re not met with resistance. His face is carefully blank but you think you might’ve shocked him. You’re not sure with what. The fact that you know he’s in love with Stu, the fact that Stu is in love with him too, or maybe he hadn’t even known he was in love with Stu. You think it’d be easy to be in love with someone for so long you don’t even know it’s love. It just becomes your default state, that love.

“I want you two to be happy together. I mean that. Don’t pretend you don’t love him and don’t doubt that he loves you. He does, Billy. I promise he does. You should see the way he looks at you.” You smile sadly at him and squeeze his hand. He looks down at your hand and his grip tightens ever so slightly.

“I’m stepping aside because it’s the right thing to do. God knows how long you’ve been in love with each other.”

“He loves you.” He finally gets out. The words sound punched out of him.

“Maybe,” you shrug, “But if he does it’s not as much as he loves you. Can’t be. You’re his best friend and his.... well, we’ve only been together a few months. Not even a year yet. That’s nothing compared to the two of you.”

“But you love him.” A simple statement but it makes you clench your teeth together so hard it hurts.

“I do and I also love you. It wouldn’t feel right... to stay with him and keep him away from you. Or keep him from having who he really wants.”

You look at each other for a long while and when you can’t stand it anymore and your tears finally start to fall you throw yourself forward and hug him as tight as you can. You think it’ll be the last time you hug him. Maybe the last time you’ll see him, other than in passing. And you do love him, even though this moment hurts and it might hurt for a long time. Some things and people are more important than hurting. Than getting the things you want, no matter how bad you may want them.

He slowly wraps his arms around you and then all at once he hugs you back just as tightly. You stay hugging one another for a long time and when you pull away he slides off your bed and leaves out through your window without another word.

You lay back down in your bed and don’t go to sleep.

It’s a week until you see them both again. A week of forcing yourself to leave the house as you still have school and work and other life obligations, broken heart not withstanding.

Despite the fact that you go to the same campus and share a few classes you hope against hope that you might avoid them for awhile. You resign yourself to knowing that you’ll have to see them again at some point, of course, but you tell yourself it doesn’t have to be that bad. It will be between classes. In passing at parties. At favorite shared eateries. Nothing you wouldn’t be able to handle with a polite wave or tense smile. You wouldn’t even have to say hello, they’d understand. And as strange as it may seem you hope that when you do eventually see them around you’ll see them together. Holding hands. Smiling at one another. Maybe sharing a kiss. As much as it would hurt it would also warm you. Let you know that the pain you were feeling did them some good. Two of your most important people. That they were happy together could be enough for you, more than enough.

(You hoped that the longer you repeated that mantra the more true it would become.)

They drag you into a classroom. The same one you dragged Stu into the day you broke up with him. You have to laugh at the poetry of it even as you instantly feel like drooping in on yourself at having to see them so soon. You were just walking past absentmindedly when a hand wrapped around your bicep and yanked you through the doorway. You knew at the touch alone that it was Billy.

You forced yourself to not look as empty as you felt and instead, with herculean effort, you settle on trying to look fed up, “Really?”

“You wouldn’t pick up our calls.”

“You haven’t even tried to call me!” You protest.

“There wouldn’t have been a point. Your stubborn ass wouldn’t have picked up.” Billy smirks and you’re very much about to address that statement when arms wrap around your middle and pull you back snugly into a warm chest.

You shut your eyes tight, feeling pained at the familiar embrace and stifle a wounded noise. Just barely. In the quiet of the room it’s still audible and it makes you feel pathetic. “Please let me go, Stu.”

You want to sound firm but you just sound like you’re begging, seconds away from crying.

“No,” He says simply although his voice is heavy with an emotion you can’t place, “You’d make a mad dash for the door and we’d actually like to manage to talk to you.”

“Will you let me go if I promise not to run?” You bargain, wanting him to stop touching you so it will be easier to forget the feeling.

You feel the sigh he lets out but he releases you begrudgingly and you step further away from him, not turning around to look at him. This puts you further into Billy’s space, who had apparently moved closer but you mind that proximity far less.

“What would you like to talk about?”

With a gentle but firm grip you’re turned around to face Stu and you feel breathless looking up at his face and seeing how softly he’s looking down at you. It’s an expression he’s made before but so much more intense it makes you freeze up. He let’s go of your waist to hold your face with both hands, making sure you can’t look away from him.

“I do love Billy,” you close your eyes, wondering why he’s telling you that when you know, god do you know but he shakes your head gently and chides you, “hey no - don’t do that. Look at me and let me finish, babe. Okay?”

He waits for you to nod before he keeps talking, “But I love you too - and I don’t love you less, either. I might love you different but not less, and I’m sorry that I ever let you think that. Sorry that I made you feel like... like you had to-”

“I didn’t feel like I had to do anything. I wanted to leave. I want you two together. I want you happy.” You interrupt.

Billy steps further into your space, and it feels like there’s a moment of hesitation, and then he’s wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you backwards into his hold, “You’re not listening.”

“You make me happy. You make me so happy and I’m so in love with you it’s ridiculous. When you were avoiding me. When you stopped talking to me and started to shut me out I felt like I was going fucking crazy.” The way he looks at you makes you believe him and you feel guilty for the way you’d gone about things. You wish you’d ripped off the band-aid instead of peeling it off.

“I don’t want you to step aside. I don’t want you playing the martyr and being alone.” Stu says firmly, more serious than you’ve ever seen him. There’s a set to his jaw that’s alien and an intensity behind his eyes you’ve only ever seen small glimpses of. You feel so seen by his gaze you start to squirm.

“But you love each other. You deserve-” You argue.

“We love you, too.” Billy interrupts before his lips find the space behind your ear and kisses it gently, making your brain short circuit.

“What?”

“You heard him - we love you too. As much as we love each other.” Stu says, voice for the first time sounding happy, normal, teasing.

“But- “ You sound weaker now, you don’t want to argue this. There’s a hopeful thing rising up in your chest that you try to ruthlessly shove down. But Stu is looking at you like you hung the moon and Billy is wrapped around you like you might slip away any moment and he’s trying to convince you to stay just by holding you.

And suddenly for the first time since that last movie night you’re thinking about what you want again and... and you want Stu so much it hurts; and you want Billy too, who, now that you’re thinking about it, you might also be in love with. Just a little.

(You would have fought anyone else for Stu, friendship status or knowing him longer be damned. Because you love him, you love Stu in a way you’d never thought you could love someone. But you love Billy too. Love Billy enough to step aside. Love them both enough to let them have each other. Love them both enough to be alone just so they can be together.)

“We want to be with you,” Billy says, “I want to be with you. I’ve never had... no one has ever done something for me like what you did. No one but Stu has ever given that much of a damn about whether or not I’m happy, and I love you. ” With that he grabs your hair and moves your face out of Stu’s grip, tilts your head back far enough until he can place his lips over yours.

You melt into the kiss faster than you’d like. Even as you do that- enjoying the way Billy’s kiss doesn’t let you hesitate or give you a second to breathe- you find yourself reaching forward blindly until you grip onto Stu and tug him closer to the both of you. When the front of his body is plastered to the front of your own, his hands moving to grip your hips tightly you moan into Billy’s mouth and Stu laughs and it sounds relieved and like he might cry. You reach down to cover one of his hands with your own and squeeze. He buries his face in the side of your neck and sighs happily.

When Billy pulls away your lips are tingling and the kiss was so filled with a simmering heat you don’t even say something snarky enough to wipe the smirk off his face. It’s sweeter than his usual smirk anyway and you chase after his lips just to drag the bottom one with a playful bite. He takes a sharp breath and his hand tightens in your hair.

“Three musketeers, how about it Y/N?” Stu says from where he places open mouthed kisses in all the places he knows make you shiver.

“Yes.” You laugh and maybe start to cry but they’re both there to hold you and wipe away your tears.

You’re not crying because you’re sad. You’re crying because you’re overwhelmed at the fact that you’re getting all you’ve ever wanted.

#stu macher x reader #poly ghostface #billy loomis x reader x stu macher #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x billy loomis #me trying to do more drabbles and less headcanons?? perhaps...#it's like pulling teeth to make myself do drabbles but if you never do it you never get used to it #how many times does reader close their eyes in this fic??? so many times

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 4 years ago

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Moe Moe Mallekei Kyun~

In which Malleus and Cater go to a maid café, and shenanigans ensue.

... I’ve been wanting to write this for a long time.

***Warning: mild spoilers for Malleus’s PE Uniform personal story!***

Imagine this...

“Lilia-sama.”

Two bodyguards fell into line, saluting simultaneously to their vice dorm leader.

“We just finished combing through the prime gargoyle locations around campus,” Silver reported. “Unfortunately, there was no sight of Malleus-sama to be found. The accounts of the various students we interviewed also corroborate that the Young Master has not recently been spotted in the area.”

“I see. Thank you, Silver.” Lilia sighed, cupping his cheek in one hand. “Hm, this is a bit odd. Wherever could he have wandered off to this time?”

At that moment, a ping! sounded off. Lilia fished his phone out of his pocket and, with one glance at the screen, his expression softened.

“You don’t suppose some dastardly villain has… kidnapped the Young Master and is holding him for ransom, do you?!” Sebek’s eyes nearly bulged out of his skull at the thought. “If that is the case… THEN WE HAVE FAILED AS MALLEUS-SAMA’S KNIGHTS!!”

“Now, now--let’s not jump to conclusions. Even if that were true, I’m certain that Malleus would be able to easily fend off assailants on his own. Perhaps he has simply lost his way, or headed off campus to run an errand.”

“... Without warning us in advance?”

“I would have happily accompanied the Young Master wherever he went--EVEN TO THE ENDS OF TWISTED WONDERLAND ITSELF!!”

“Kufufu. Malleus is still young at heart. Let us allow him this moment of independence, just this once. He will find his way home eventually.”

“Welcome home, my masters!!”

Malleus skidded to a stop in the doorway—for beyond it laid unknown territory. The interior sported cream walls, with fairy lights, streamers, and paper flowers strung up. A number of tables and chairs, populated with people, were set against flowing white curtains.

Young ladies flitted about, balancing trays of food and drinks, cameras, and microphones. Each wore the same outfit, consisting of a frilly headdress, an apron, and a black dress with lace trim and ribbons.

And now, one of those uniformed girls extended a hand to him and a warm, welcoming smile.

Malleus frowned and turned to the orange haired young man beside him. “... Diamond. What is this strange establishment you’ve brought me to?”

“Mm? It’s a maid café,” Cater chirped, glancing up from his phone. “You said you’ve never been before, right?”

“Well, yes… However, when you invited me to join you for an outing, I did not expect this to be our destination.”

“It’ll be fine~ We’re already here, so let’s get seated!” Cater insisted cheerily, ushering the fae through the door.

“Right this way, my masters!” The greeter giggled and led the way, eventually stopping at a vacant table set for two. As the duo slipped into their seats, she handed them menus and moistened towels. “We have a wide selection of special services and delicious dishes for your enjoyment!”

Malleus hesitantly flipped open the (very pink) menu and ran his eyes down the page of available items. Along with the expected offerings of desserts, savory foods, and beverages were odd listings: massage, ear cleaning, karaoke, game, arts and crafts, picture, spoon feeding, live song and dance...

He stared quizzically at Cater, who seemed to be taking everything in stride.

“I’ll take a plate of omurice! How about you, Malleus-kun?”

He stared back at his menu, trying to make rhyme or reason of the unique names. What in the Great Seven was a Pyon ❤ Pyon Sunshine Bar…? Or a Lucky☆Happy☆Cookie? Malleus’s brows furrowed in both concentration and confusion.

“I… I shall have the local specialty, whatever that may be,” the fae prince declared at last.

“Excellent choices! And would you like a bunny, or a kitty?”

“You hand out animals at this eating establishment? Is that not a health code violation?”

“Aaah, Malleus-kun, she doesn’t mean real rabbits and cats. Look--you’ll see when she brings them, okay?” Cater laughed awkwardly. Then, turning to the waitress, he held up his index finger. “One of each, little lady~”

“Of course!” She scribbled down a few words on her heart shaped notepad before prancing off.

“... Diamond. Are you certain this is the fabled maid café of which you spoke of?” Malleus asked, folding his arms. “I find it difficult to believe that every patron here is descended from a high class lineage. Furthermore, the servers are wearing attire entirely unlike that of a traditional household servant.”

Cater blinked once, twice—then chuckled.

“Maid cafés are like normal cafés. Anyone can go to them to play pretend and chill for a while! The difference is that the waitresses are dressed cutely and offer fun services. Singing, dancing, playing games—that kinda thing!”

“I do not understand.” Malleus swept a hand at their surroundings. “The purpose of this establishment is merely for… amusement?”

“Yup! People get tired of the daily grind sometimes, so they go to places like this to see cute stuff and just take a load off.”

“I… I see.” Malleus tucked his thumb and forefinger under his chin. “We do not have anything like your maid cafes in the Valley of Thorns.”

“You don’t? What sort of things do you do back home for fun, then?”

“I was not allowed to venture far from the palace grounds. Most of my time was spent indoors, studying spells or honing my magical abilities.”

Cater inclined his head. “Oooh, right! Because you’re a prince and all, you weren’t able to do much—but hey! Things are different now! You’ve got Cay-kun to show you a good time!”

“Ah, yes. A ‘good time’...” Malleus attempted at a smile, which came out more wary than he had intended.

“Thank you for waiting!” a girlish voice chirped—their waitress had returned, wearing a tray of food in one hand and two headbands in the other. “Here is your omurice and Nyan ✨ Nyan ✨ Kitty-chan Parfait, plus one pair of kitty ears and one pair of bunny ears!”

She handed Cater his dish—a bed of ketchup flavored fried rice, sealed by a wobbling omelet and garnished with a sprig of parsley.

“Mm! Smells delicious. Thanks a bunch~” Cater grinned, winking at his server.

The maid giggled and placed Malleus’s dessert before him, along with the headbands.

“Would you like me to draw or write something special for you on your meal, master?” she asked, gesturing to Cater’s omurice.

“Sure thing! Could you write ‘Mallekei’? Oh, and a couple of hearts would be cute, too!”

“As you wish!”

As the maid set to work, Malleus marveled at the sight of his parfait.

Colorful scoops of ice-cream, granola, and sliced fruits were layered inside of a tall glass cup. A generous crown of whipped cream and a drizzle of strawberry sauce topped it off. Sticking out from the whipped cream were two wafer triangles and dots of chocolate candies, forming a cat-like face.

How adorable.

… But not adorable enough to be spared.

“Thank you for the food.” The fae raised his spoon to demolish the poor parfait kitten—

“Stop, stop, Malleus-kun!!” Cater cried, frantically waving his arms. “N-Not yet!!”

Malleus lowered his spoon with a frown. “Food is meant to be consumed, Diamond. Is there an issue you have with my table etiquette?”

“Well—no, but…” Cater played with a lock of his orange hair and sighed. “There’s certain rituals we need to do first!”

“Rituals? Oh, my apologies. I was not aware. Please proceed with your regularly scheduled… rituals.”

“Ahaha, you’re a quick learner! First thing’s first, let’s put on our headbands!” Cater swept up the cat ears and passed them over. “Here, to match your parfait! I’ll take the rabbit.”

Malleus gingerly nestled the cat ears on his head, copying Cater’s movements. It was a bit tricky maneuvering around his horns, but somehow, he managed.

“Oh!! Those ears suit you so well!” the waitress said, glancing up from decorating the omurice. Carefully placed splotches of ketchup spelled out ‘Mallekei’, hearts and little sparkles littering the space around the boys’ combined names.

“... Do they?” Malleus doubted it.

“They do!!” Cater reassured him with a laugh. “Ne, ne, miss! Can you take our picture so my friend here can have a souvenir to take home with him?”

“Certainly!” She replaced the bottle of ketchup and hurried off, returning shortly after with a polaroid camera. “Are you ready, my masters?”

“Ready, Malleus-kun?”

“Hmph. Of course. I will have you know that my posing abilities have improved considerably since our last encounter. Do not underestimate me.”

“Oh, that’s great! You’ve been practicing! Then… on the count of three, we nyah, okay?”

“... What is ‘nyah’?” Malleus inquired, his confidence suddenly waning.

“Eh?” A blip of surprise crossed Cater’s face. “Like, y’know… nyah!”

The influencer curled both of his hands into balls and made a pawing motion at his friend. “Now you try!”

“Like this?” Malleus mimicked him. He was more stiff—definitely not as practiced—but the general motion was still recognizable.

“Very good, master!!” the waitress gushed, raising the polaroid up. “On three?”

“1, 2, 3… Nyah!”

A flash went off, sending stars into Malleus’s vision. As he rubbed the daze out of his eyes, Cater’s voice called out to him.

“Are you okay there?”

“I am well. There is no need for your concern,” the fae insisted. “This ritual… it is more confounding that I took it to be.”

“Eeeh? It’s not meant to be hard or anything. Just relax, relax!” Cater paused before adding, “It’s part of the ritual’s requirements! You need to be nice and loose for the last step!”

“What is this last step?”

“We need to cast a magic spell to make your food taste extra tasty!” the waitress declared cheerily.

“Hoh?” A smirk found its way onto Malleus’s face. “That can easily be arranged. Allow me to do the honors.”

He put his hand before his parfait, an eerie green glow emulating from his palm. The sinister light engulfed his dish and Cater’s, sending them floating midair. Radioactive ice-cream and omurice hovered above their heads, causing both Cater and their maid to recoil in shock.

Other customers stared at the spectacle from their own tables. One man’s jaw dropped, the forkful of spaghetti bolognese in his mouth clattering onto the floor.

“You, who provides sustenance to the masses, become that which is delici—“

“H-Hold on a sec, Malleus-kun!!” Cater practically leapt over the table to seize his friend’s glowing hand. “Not that kind of spell!!”

Eyes wide with surprise, Malleus allowed his magic to settle down. The parfait and omurice gently floated back onto their table, and the maid sighed with relief.

“Is there a different spell needed for this occasion? I assure you that I am well-versed in practical magic—you need only speak its name, and I can conjure the proper…”

“No, no! It’s—“ Cater casted a look at their server and nervously chuckled. “Ne, Maid-chan~ Think you can give us a demonstration of the right spell?”

“Yes, master!” the girl, ever professional, flashed a perky grin. “Please watch carefully!!”

The maid set down her polaroid on the table. She then arched her fingers into C-like shapes, thumb extended straight. Pushing her hands together, she formed a heart and aimed it in the direction of the boy’s dishes.

“Moe moe kyuuuuuun!”

“What an odd spell. In all my years, I have never heard of such an enchantment…”

“Well, there’s a first for everything, right?” Cater flicked one of his floppy rabbit ears. “Plus, it should be no problem for the great Malleus-sama to pull off this spell, right?”

“This is child’s play,” Malleus’s laugh was like the earth itself rumbling. His lips quirked into a small smile. “You will join me in performing this sacred ritual, will you not, Diamond?”

“Of course~”

“Very well.”

They made hearts and thrust them upon their meals. And together, they uttered those three magic words.

“Moe moe kyuuuuun!!”

“Welcome back, Malleus,” Lilia greeted. The vice dorm leader nonchalantly hung from the ceiling, his raven and magenta bangs suspended midair. “Did you have fun on your outing?”

“Lilia. You knew?” Malleus slowly shut the door behind him, chasing away the cool air of the night. He spoke softly, knowing that sounds carried in the dusty hallways of Diasomnia and could disturb its residents.

“The wonders of modern technology,” Lilia trilled, expertly landing beside his young master. He brandished his phone in a gloved hand, a text message displayed on the screen.

hey hey lilia-chan! gonna steal malmal-kun for the day~ he’ll be back later, but do me a solid and keep it a secret from s&s til then, ‘kay? thnx!! (✿˶˘ ³˘)~♡

“It looks as though I have been exposed.”

“There is no shame in making new friends. In fact, I’m proud of you for expanding your horizons.” Lilia beamed. “Though what a shame it is that I was not present to grab a few pictures. Hopefully Cater fulfilled that task for me.”

The ancient fae tilted forward in his toes and peered up at his prince. “Soooo? Where did you sneak off to?”

“Fufu. Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“My. Is that any way to treat the man that kept Silver and Sebek from hunting you down?” Lilia teased, wagging a finger.

“Such loyalty,” Malleus smirked, hands on his hips, “deserves to be rewarded.”

He produced a polaroid photograph from his breast pocket and presented it with a flourish. The image, forever captured in time, was that of Malleus and Cater—the former with cat ears, the latter with bunny ears—with hands balled to resemble paws. Cater cheekily winked, while Malleus looked slightly bewildered.

The edges of the polaroid were dotted with stickers—smiley faces, flowers, and hearts. Marker had been used to scrawl on whiskers and blushes over both boys’ cheeks.

Overall, cutesy—overwhelming so.

But the Malleus and Cater in the picture were happy.

Their eyes shining like jewels.

Nyah-ing their hearts out.

#twst #twisted wonderland #Malleus Draconia #Cater Diamond #twisted wonderland imagines #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland scenarios #something no one asked for #spoilers

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hansolmates · 4 years ago

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(secret) lovers | m

summary; the (not) best friends 2 lovers spin-off where jungkook and you are trying to hide your relationship from his old best friend pairing; jungkook x reader (f) genre/warnings; established relationship, jiyu is now an old friend and mc went to high school w them, weeb!koo, jk n mc be kinda stanky bc they’re only going to this party for the free booze, soft dom!mc, switch!koo, whiny koo, mc calls jk a slut, cockwarming, gets really soft n’loving at the end, heavy use of the pet name [redacted] i really think this couple is meant to be diabolically dumb together w/c; 2.7k a/n; this couple is really out here living rent free in my mind. jk, mc and jiyu really just are that thruple that i love to hate and hate to love. hope u enjoy this lil spin off!

[series masterlist]

“You made it!”

Jiyu flings her hands out, knocking both your heads with hers in the middle in a surprisingly strong hug. It’s a complete episode of déjà vu, from the way her body smells like the peach lotion she used after gym class to the shade of coral lipgloss. From the corner of your eye, you can see the caramel brunette’s tiny face is inching closer towards your ride, her head tucking in the crook of his neck.

“Jiyu,” you beam. You’re the first to speak, the first to dip their toe in the water. “You look great!”

“Thank you!” she pulls away, popping her hip against the doorway. The silky material of her coverup gleams in the sunlight, the silvery material showing off the silhouette of her bikini-clad body. Despite the fact that you’re the one who compliments Jiyu, her gaze floats over to the person next to you, “what a coincidence you two came at the same time and—oh my, and where are my manners! Come in, come in!”

She moves away from the door, revealing an ornate lobby and two twin stairwells. You can’t help but light up at the beautiful crystal chandelier, flecks of pink and blue flickering in your eyes. Further down the hallway you spot open glass doors that lead to a large backyard that overlooks the lake. Some people are already sitting by the dock, lounging about with drinks and happy smiles on their faces.

“Actually,” Oh, he speaks. You think with a small smile on your face, side eyeing the man of the minute, “I forgot the rest of my luggage. We’ll meet you inside.”

“Okay!” Jiyu smiles, “I’ll make you guys some drinks.”

As soon as the door shuts, Jeon Jungkook, your boyfriend for three years blurts out, “She still has a crush on me.”

You snort, taking off the duffle bag that’s hiding behind your back. Continuing to stand awkwardly at the front door, you prepare yourself to console your boyfriend’s worries. “She still has heart-eyes for you, Koo,” you tease, pinching his side.

His eyes are big and swimming with guilt, “We should tell her.”

“Oh, baby. We can’t break her heart this weekend.”

“But love, it’s her birthday.”

“Exactly,” you chirp, bumping your head against his arm, “can’t break her heart on her birthday.”

Jiyu is an old high school friend. Class president, straight As, and even vied for prom queen. The only thing she wasn’t able to obtain throughout her high school years was Jeon Jungkook, the object of her affections. They were best friends in elementary school, eventually turning into distant friends as their interests changed and they got older. Yet, Jiyu still tried to insert herself into Jungkook’s life. Back in high school it was surely cute, the way she’d pine from the back of the room and place anonymous love letters in his locker, but Jungkook wasn’t interested and avoided any of her advances. Fast forward ten years later and it seems like old flames never die out.

The meetups with Jiyu have been scarce since college and only in large groups. As former class president, she decided to hold a little reunion for her old friends, taking advantage of her stellar job benefits. A weekend in the woods, perfectly balmy and far away from the city.

“I don’t wanna lie,” Jungkook nearly whines, pink lips warbling at your inability to budge.

“Mm,” you hum, tracing the fingers across the seam of his back pocket. His boardshorts hide nothing, and you curl your fingers around the swell of his plump bum, “be good for me and tell a little white lie, will you?”

Jeon Jungkook, former President of the Anime Club, prom king candidate and your favorite nerd in the entire world.

A teeny tiny lie won’t hurt anyone. After all, you haven’t seen your high school buddies in literal years, and they wouldn’t dare bother to make a fuss about your relationship. In fact, they don’t know of your relationship with Jungkook. The two of you reconnected randomly, some spontaneous holiday party Kim Seokjin is always inclined to throw. You barely made eye contact the first two hours into it, not really wanting to go back to the hellhole that was your late teenage years. Nevertheless, by the end of the night the two of you couldn’t help yourself.

As you look around the room with utmost confidence, the two of you have made the finest glow up by far. At first you wanted to keep the white lie to save face, you don’t owe anyone an explanation as to how you and the President of the Anime Club hooked up. However, you’re starting to enjoy the ruse.

Jungkook’s sitting on the other side of the backyard, looking absolutely delicious as he sips on whatever fruity cocktail he created. Judging from yours, you have a feeling his drink probably consists of 95% orange juice and 5% alcohol.

Jiyu and him are sitting in the large netted hammock, swinging lightly. Gravity is doing its thing, and Jiyu is practically laying on top of Jungkook’s lap, her body pooling to where his meets in the middle. As soon as his thigh touches hers, his eyes flicker to you in panic. He’s shirtless, only with a pair of mid-cut shorts to protect him. The skin that touches him probably burns.

You wink and wave him away, assuring him it’s fine. Pretending to flip your hair, you turn back to the conversation you’ve been ignoring for the past five minutes. “Man, Jungkook’s so sexy,” Im Nayeon cooes, looking longingly at Jungkook’s form.

“Jiyu’s so lucky,” Rina eggs on, taking another shot from the tray (a tray for herself, you might add.)

“Do you think Jiyu’s gonna get some birthday sex tonight?”

Nayeon snorts, covering her flared nostrils with her hand. That hand eventually loops around your thigh, eagerly pushing you two together by pressing on the meat of your bare skin. “If she’s lucky! Besides, we all know Jungkook had that big crush on you junior year!”

Her pretty bunny teeth tease you, and you can’t help but smile back in return. “What do you mean, he really liked me?” you ask innocently.

“Oh yeah! Drew so many little pictures of you in the margins. Little anime versions of you in his favorite outfits.” Of course, you know about Jungkook’s old crush on you. He’s mentioned it in passing, paired with an adorable blush on his cheeks. Hearing it from Nayeon, the shameless grin on her lips and the ease of champagne on her breath is much more entertaining. “Rina, do you remember when Jungkook set up her desk with rose petals and chocolate in a little heart? And then in the morning the janitor sweeped it up? He was so sad!”

“Yes! I really felt for him,” Rina pouted.

“Oh, poor baby,” you didn’t know that bit of information. You put a hand over your heart, watching as Jungkook shares a drink with his old friend Kim Mingyu. He looks so different, yet all the same since you’ve been acquaintances in high school. He carries his own weight now, an air of confidence that he’s finally reached over time.

“Definitely not a baby anymore,” Rina scoffs. She clicks her tongue back to where Jungkook is seated.

The sun is doing wonders for him, highlighting every crevice of where his biceps curl and twist as he lifts his hand in another drink. Their side of the lawn is doing a toast. For what, you don’t know. You do know however, that Jiyu is trying very hard to cheer right over Jungkook’s thighs, spilling some liquid over his knees. You smirk when Jiyu sends him an apologetic grin, dabbing a napkin up and across his thighs, far away from the wet spot.

Jungkook, the poor guy, discreetly shoves her off. He brushes his hands and gets up, letting Jiyu fall back in the hammock all by herself. Avoiding the teasing gazes of his friends, he looks into the lake, hiding his blush.

Still a baby, you think. Your baby.

“Jiyu was practically sitting in your lap, baby boy,” you card your hand through his dark locks, fresh and shiny from the shower. The feeling is soothing to Jungkook’s scalp until you tug, arching his neck towards your lips and twisting, “did you like that,” you mumble into his Adam’s apple, “my little slut?”

“N-no! Never, ohgodnever—” Jungkook is sweating, fat beads rolling down his hairline and glistening across his face. His fingers are practically phasing through your skin, the crescents of his fingernails sinking into the swell of your bottom.

You clench around his dick, your soft folds urging Jungkook closer to his release. But he knows better not to move, and instead shudders from the ministrations, breaking apart from you to dip his head into your chest. His nose pokes at the bouncy flesh, nuzzling into your breast like the softest pillow.

“Sh-shit, love,” he cries into your skin, “you feel so warm n’soft.”

“You need to be quiet, baby,” you murmur, playing with the curls that hang around the nape of his neck, “unless—you want someone to hear? My little slut wants everyone to hear that I’m fucking you?”

“Mm, no,” you grin at his honest reaction, and you can feel his neck heating up at the thought. Your fingers make their way, finally ending towards the apples of his cheeks. You squish lightly, loving the way his tanned skin puffs under your fingers. “I’m—ah—not a slut. I just really love you, only you. Really wanted to hold you in my lap today and show you off,” he whimpers at the unconscious clench of your folds, “just uh—slut for you, love.”

You giggle, tightening your thighs around your boyfriend’s tiny waist. Your other hands trail down to the ridges of his abdomen, where you two are connected. You absolutely love the way your thighs wrap around his lean waist.

Jiyu split the floors by girls and boys, as if you’re still in high school. It took forever for everyone to fall asleep, but you managed to sneak away with your bare feet slapping against the hardwood floor. Call yourself needy, but you couldn’t imagine yourself falling asleep with at least one good night kiss. Jungkook was ten steps ahead of you. Your boyfriend was already naked when you arrived, pumping his cock across the bed and getting himself ready for you. His eyes instantly zeroed in on you in his shirt, the black material hanging off your shoulder and begging to be pulled away by his teeth.

“If I crawled in your lap today,” you murmur into his shoulder, “our whole secret would’ve been thrown out the window.”

“I wouldn’t have minded, even if Jiyu got hurt,” Jungkook admits, running his hands up and down your back, “I wanna marry you, y’know.”

You freeze in your ministrations, suddenly feeling the room go cold. Not in an unpleasant way, but the room freezes, the blue-white light of the moon igniting the seriousness in Jungkook’s gaze. You force yourself to stay on his lap, let his cock settle between your folds. The juices of your coupling are dripping down each other’s legs, cooling at your thighs and onto the white blankets.

“You wanna marry me?” you echo, running your thumbs across his shiny lips.

Of course, you’re at that age. Everyone around you is getting married, heck many people your age are already in the middle of creating a family, going on vacations to Disney and picnics in the playground. And yes, you also have thought about marrying Jungkook, he’s the only man you can picture marrying. Yet, hearing it out loud and from him only further fuels your desire to make these thoughts a reality.

He kisses your thumbs, lips smushing against the pads. “Of course I do, love. You’re it for me.”

You relinquish, slowly pulling yourself off of him. He’s still hard as you untack yourself, his member slapping against his belly button as he watches you in confusion. You make a show of fluffing up the pillows, arching your back and wiggling your ass as you make yourself comfortable to lay on your back.

“Show me, baby,” you spread your legs for him, gesturing for him to come closer with a curl of your finger, “show me how much you want to marry me.”

Jungkook smirks, hands immediately pumping with a squelching sound resulting from yours and his combined arousal. You love it when Jungkook takes the lead, just as much as you do. It makes you feel like a pillow princess, especially when you feel lovey sex is on the way. “Will you be quiet? Just like you tried to make me quiet?” he rasps, wrapping a hand around your waist to arch you up.

“Depends on how good you are.”

The head of his dick rubs against your clit, slapping lightly at the shiny skin. You both moan when he finally gives you what you both need. As soon as the tip of his dick sinks down, you feel like you’ve both hit home. It doesn’t take long for him to find his pace, naturally throwing your leg over his shoulder for added leverage.

“Oh—fuck, baby,” you tug at his hair, pulling him in for a wet kiss. You don’t care that you’re slobbering all over him, the bed creaking and squeaking against his minstraitions. “I—uh, you feel so deep—yes!”

“When we’re married I’ll fuck you every day like this, love,” he whispers between your lips, thrusting in a particularly sensitive spot that has you arching your back and pulling your chest to his, “I—ugh, I love you so much.”

“Love you. Love youlovelove—ah! Kook, I’m—”

The two of you don’t spare any time, the sun will eventually rise and you’ll be back to playing strangers. Jungkook pounds you into the mattress, nails you with enough cum for you to last the next day without having to sneak into each other’s room like horny teenagers. The roughness is smoothed out by love and bliss, eager at the thought of going home and anticipating a permanent life together.

Five minutes later, you’re starting to feel a little too sticky. “Ohmygod—I need to fucking pee,” you pull yourself away from Jungkook’s sweaty body, palming around for your t-shirt.

“Just pee on the bed,” Jungkook grins.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you,” you make a face, “nasty.”

“You like that I’m nasty.”

“Yeah yeah.”

With one last kiss, you skip away from his bedroom and close the door behind you. Unfortunately, as soon as you take five steps in the direction of the bathroom, somebody emerges from the shadows.

“Holy shit, Jiyu,” you put a hand on your heart, eyes widening at her peeking in from the hallway. “You scared me.”

“I’m so sorry,” she frowns, squinting her eyes to make you out in the dark. It’s easier to see her in her white slip, a thin chiffon material that barely covers her thighs.

You don’t question why she’s out in the hallway in really pretty lingerie, or why she’s on the boy’s side of the house. So much for being discreet. Then again, there must be an ulterior motive for her if she’s already here, five feet away from Jungkook’s room. You wouldn’t have been caught if she hadn’t been so sneaky. (Well, not so sneaky. You got to him first.) You smell like sweat, arousal, and Jungkook. The shirt you’re wearing feels far too short and the cum in your panties feels tacky and gooey. You feel like a teenager being caught smoking.

“Why?” Jiyu’s voice suddenly sounds as dark as the early morning, no sign of the sun.

“Why what?” you answer, furrowing your brows at the sudden change in demeanor.

“Why?” she hisses, eyes wide with pain and confusion, “why Jungkook?”

You frown, not liking her attitude. Did she think it was a contest to who would fuck Jungkook first? Did she think she was being slick, sneaking away into a bedroom she has no business being in, even if he was single? You could laugh. So despite your height you steel yourself, looking at Jiyu straight in the eye.

“Because Jungkook’s mine, and I’m marrying him.”

As you pad down the hallway as fast as you can, you send Jungkook a quick text.

[5:44AM] love: pack it up. Plan b go fake a fever we gotta go lol

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #btsghostie #kwritersworldnet #btswritingcafe #btsguild #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #bts fic #bts smut

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olivyh · 3 years ago

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TWST FAMILY HCS PT 3) Scarabia and Pomefiore

Scarabia:

Jamil:

-Mama Viper: She’s on the quieter side, similar to Jamil. She’s a very hardworking woman and incredibly loyal to whoever she gets close to, which extends to Kalim as well. Seeing the two boys grow up together, and considering how I think Kalim didn’t get the most attention growing up (with thirty siblings and counting, plus having his father working all the time) she felt sorry for him and took him in as her own as well. She sometimes feels Jamil’s pain at being stuck in the life of servitude, but is incredibly proud of him for sticking up for himself and doing what she never got to do, even if she scolded him after word got to the household. She can’t put much focus on either of her children, which deeply saddens her, but she looks forward to watching them grow up to be strong, intelligent, and independent. I think she’s a little shorter than Jamil, with the same long black hair that she braids down her back. She has dark brown eyes that almost look black.

-Papa Viper: He’s on the more reserved side as well, but not by choice. He’s very talkative when talking about his experiences, often going into rants where he has to remind himself to not overstep his boundaries. I think Papa Viper and Papa Al-Asim have a similar relationship to Kalim and Jamil pre-overblot, where it’s very one sided and there’s a lot of bitterness. Despite this, Papa Viper remains loyal to the Al-Asim family. Deep down he wishes he could spend more tike with his children and deeply regrets telling them to lessen themselves to make the Al-Asims higher than them yet again. And, like Mama Viper, he is incredibly proud of his son for being so intelligent and independent, sticking up for himself and trying to break the chains that kept their family held down foe generations. I think he stands at the same height as Jamil, with shorter cropped hair with grey streaks going across the sides.

-Little sister Viper: A spitfire who’s not afraid to speak her mind, often getting scolded by other servants and the rest of her family. Very close with Kalim’s younger sister who she has to watch over- they have movie nights and makeover nights as often as possible. She often scolds her older brother, telling him little things he needs to change (“haven’t you been wearing your hair like that since forever?”), which often gets them in little passive-aggressive arguments. She and Kalim’s younger sister aspire to be as magicam-popular as the Vil Schoenheit- they even have their friend from the land of Pyroxene to help them boost their account and make their pictures look better (Yes, they call and chat with Cater’s second oldest sister all the time)! I think she has long hair tied in a way similar to their mother’s, with Jamil’s dark grey eyes. I think she stands shorter than the rest of the family, at around 5’2.

Kalim:

-Papa Al-Asim: A cheery, joyful man much like his oldest son! He’s a little dense sometimes, but is actually a very smart man (it’s not easy to own a company after all!). He tries his best to bond with all of his children and wives, but often struggles to juggle everything at once (which leads to him being very teary eyed at every little interaction with any one of his children). Will also spoil his children and wives as often as he can! He likes to see all their different interests, and is overjoyed when he can watch some of them perform during dinners or hang up their paintings or drawings or, if he’s lucky and has the time, he can attend one of their sport games! I think he’d be a little taller than Kalim, with white hair similar to his, with dark brown eyes.

-Mama Al-Asim: A princess at heart. A very quiet and patient woman, who adores her children with every ounce of her being. I think Papa Al-Asim might have four-five wives? Bc these poor woman cannot be having six plus children in the span of seventeen years. I think she gets along well with the others, but would rather it be her and her children getting closer. I think she’s enamored with everything each one of them does, whether it be something as small as a craft they made or a little magic trick they learned, and will keep pictures of every little thing they do. She tries to include every one of them when she does something, whether it be reading aloud to them and the other children, or teaching them how to knit and sew, or helping them learn new dances and wearing new things. She teaches them to be kind to others, often retelling the story about the Thief and the Princess to point out how kind each of the protagonists were. She teaches them as much as possible, from how to help their Papa to how to fix your mistakes and catch them before they happen. She will listen to whatever problems they have, and will offer her shoulder to cry on for each and every one of them. She is also very affectionate to them, still offering cuddles and forehead kisses whenever they look upset (no matter how old they may get). I think she’d have very long brown hair that she tries to add as many intricate little designs to as possible, with Kalim’s bright red eyes. I think she’d be around 5’1-5’2?

-I AM NOT DOING ALL THIRTY YOUNGER SIBLINGS SO HERES A FEW HONORABLE MENTIONS: Twins who get into as much trouble as they possibly can, driving the servants insane. One of them often sneaks out of the palace and comes back after everyone spent hours searching for them with souvenirs. Nobody knows where they went or how they got there, and they won’t tell anyone. His little sisters often dressing up as princesses and performing whole musical numbers during dinner, with the dances down and everything. Hide and seek. With all thirty plus of his little siblings. It’s insanity for anyone wandering the palace. Their drawings are all over the palace. Animals. So. Many. Animals. They have anything from birds, to reptiles, to insects, heck, one of Kalim’s little sisters even has a domesticated tiger! All of them plan as many movie nights and pillow fort building days as often as they can- seeing each other not only as siblings but as close friends! Of course, when their oldest brother comes home from school, they all sit around his room as he tells them stories about things he’d seen and learned, as animated as possible. Of course, he tells them classic fairytales as well, acting them out and jumping around his room, trying to get as many reactions to them as possible. Of course, many of the quieter ones prefer to stick away from the action and near Jamil, who will quietly talk with them in the corner of the room.

Pomefiore:

Vil:

-Papa Schoapjfaojfpak: As already stated, a popular actor and stage director. With this comes the same publicity that Vil has to deal with, making him look nearly flawless and act as such when out in public. He keeps his son’s attitude when it comes to fans, keeping most interactions short and simple, putting on a show offstage nearly as much as he does onstage. Behind closed doors, however, he’s a very kind yet strict father, making sure that Vil takes proper care of himself and is happy at the same time. He struggled with the aspect of having to leave Vil alone for much of the time when he was a child since he had to work often. When these times were especially bad, he’d often bring Vil into the sets to help him get ready for filming or to watch his Papa from a little seat next to the directors. He would always chuckle and pat Vil’s hair whenever he told him something he could’ve done better after the filming process, glad that his son has an eye for these sorts of things. He’d even let him experiment with the expensive costumes and makeup, helping him fix his own small mistakes. He tries to make it to every show and movie that Vil does, often going undercover to ensure that fans don’t take his attention off his son. He has a box full of their own home movies that the two of them made, including action, comedy, even a few thrillers thrown in (of course, Vil was the strong hero who defeated the bad guy)(The bad guy being his poor father with fake blood smeared on his face). He watches them sometimes when he misses his son (and he cries about how far he’s come, not that he’d ever tell Vil). I think he’d be the same height as Vil, and a little muscular due to having to keep up appearances. He has Vil’s hair and eye color.

Rook:

-Mama Hunt: Okay back to my headcannon page about species, I saw something that said that Rook was half beastman. So, I like to think that Rook’s mother is the beastwoman in the relationship. She’s a strong, loving caracal beastwoman. She’s kind and often spoils her son as much as possible, coddling him whenever he’s around, no matter the age. He get’s his poetic nature from her, an artist, poet, author, whatever she could get her hands on! Despite this, she’s still a woman from the Savanah, so she gets very protective over her husband and son, and is a lot stronger than she looks! She would be the kind of woman who’d tell you the most vague, unsettling threats with a smile on her face, and she’s had some pretty close scrapes with people who thought that they could try to hurt her son because he was half human (and also, due to Rook’s nature, likely trespassing on their property). She tries to show her son the beauty in the world, complimenting him on every little thing he did and poetically pointing out everything beautiful around her during their walks (even if it wasn’t)(Mrs.Hunt please don’t show your son that roadkill)(please don’t compliment the roadkill)(let it rest in peace im begging you). She and her husband are incredibly proud of everything Rook does. I think she has short blonde hair that goes black at the ends, yellow eyes, and is only an inch shorter than Rook.

-Papa Hunt: Where do you think Rook got his hunting instinct from? Not from his beastwoman mother, surprisingly. The infamous Mr.Hunt was but a hunter who had wandered too far away from where his friends had decided to go camping in the Savana. He, like his son, was enamored with any non-human species, his curiosity leading him to a beastwoman quietly painting not too far from her home. With her enhanced hearing, she quickly whipped around and glared at him, shocking the man to the point of falling down. And from that point forward, he was in love. He’s incredibly supportive of his wife’s artistry, complimenting her at every moment about how perfect she did and how amazing she is as what she does. He’s a romantic, like his son, so you can expect many, many mushy moments between the two of them (que baby Rook making a face at the display). He wanted to teach his son as much as possible about the world, to make him as curious as possible. Of course, he wanted to bond with his son for as long as possible. How would they do that? Father-son camping trips, in which Papa Hunt would teach the boy how to shoot a bow (it took him a minute to realize that his son’s laser-point accuracy could be because his beastman instincts tell him how to get the kill as fast as possible, and he was the proudest Papa in the Savana when he went to tell his wife). He also often took him to larger towns, letting his boy get acquainted with his beastman culture so he didn’t feel too left out around others. He is the same height as Rook, but with shoulder-length black hair and bright green eyes.

Epel:

-Great-Meemaw Felmier: A very old and wise woman, shockingly stubborn and independent for her old age. She adores her great grandson and was the one who taught him how to carve apples in the first places. She’d tell him stories about when her father first bought the farm they lived on, and what things were like then, how they changed. Of course, she gets tired very quickly so these stories are often left with open endings, much to Epel’s dismay. She always knows what advice to give for any situation, and won’t be afraid to tell you the truth. She’s likely around her late nineties, and often carries around a walker that she smacks people’s ankles with. I think she’d have very, very long hair (“To preserve my youth”, she says) that she lets hang as much as possible.

-Meemaw & Peepaw Felmier: Two very sweet people. Both hailing from families of farmers who had lived in and around the village of harvest their whole lives, they grew up around each other and are practically inseparable. They care very much for their children and grandchildren, and often act as their grandchildren’s partners in crime whenever they get into trouble, patching them up when they get hurt and helping to clean the mess they might have made in the kitchen. would have shoulder-length light purple hair (almost white) that she ties back. They look like Mr. and Mrs. Claus that you see on those old Christmas animations that you can never remember the name of but see every year.

-Uncle & Aunt Felmier: A stern, but kind couple. Uncle Felmier is a gruff man, often being too blunt and too focused on work to take a break every now and again, and Aunt Felmier is strict with her child’s rules and schedule. Luckily, they have Epel’s parents to balance them out when they get too far. Uncle Felmier enjoys working out in the farm with his younger brother, and Aunt Felmier is Mrs.Felmier’s best friend, which made both the men very happy when Papa Felmier was getting ready to marry Mama Felmier. Whether it be cooking, baking, attending festivals in town, or even sitting near the fire and drinking tea/coffee, the four of them greatly enjoys each other’s company. Uncle Felmier is a taller man with light purple hair, with grey streaks going up the front, he’s more built due to working on the farm. Auntie Felmier is a stout woman, with light brown hair that’s often tied up in a low ponytail.

-Papa Felmier: A very kind and hardworking man, who lives for his family. He gets up at the earliest hours in the morning and goes to bed at the latest at night to keep the farm going and to help out their elderly neighbors. He’s a little strict with Epel, but that changed as Epel grew up and became less rowdy (not by a lot). He tries his best to understand his son and let him grow as his own person, hearing him out when he gets upset about others calling him feminine. He even tries to put a stop to his brother making comments about the boy, at least around him. He is a little scrawnier than his brother, but still fairly muscular due to constantly lifting things and operating machinery to keep things running. He has Epel’s purple hair and light green eyes.

-Mama Felmier: Another one where, if you hadn’t known she was a farmer, you’d think she was a lost princess. She’s a kind, generous, quiet woman who does her best to keep her chaotic household from falling apart. Similar to the Tweel’s father, she tries to protect Epel as much as possible, and him going so far away for school made her panic internally, as proud as she was of him. She does her best to calm her son down when he gets rowdy or frustrated at something, and often approaches him with hot cocoa or an apple tart to make him feel a little better. She solves everything with food, which mostly incorporates apples, and believes that by baking for him and by extension, his friends at school, she makes their days a little better, no matter how horrible they may be. She is welcoming to any of the boys from school who may have a hard time at home or who need a place to stay, and was happy to the point of tears when he told her that he made friends at school. Is another one who will proudly display pictures of their child, often having long conversations with their neighbors about how he is, what he’s doing in school, etc etc. She is incredibly beautiful (where else would he get that face?) and has long ginger hair with Epel’s blue eyes.

-Little cousin Felmier: Epel’s baby cousin is only around six or seven, and follows his older cousin as much as he can. He defends Epel as much as possible whenever people call him delicate and girly, and will go on long rants about all the cool things he’d seen him do over the years (“He jumped out o’ th’ tree! Without thinkin’!” “We were sleepin’ outside n’ he heard an animal outside o’ our tent n’ he scared it off!”). Is quick to help around the house, despite being stubborn and upset about not being strong enough to help his father and uncle work outside yet. He’s always quick to ask Epel about school, and has begged him on multiple occasions to let him go with him (“We already sleep in the same room! What’s the difference if it’s here or at your dorm?”). I think he’d have Epel’s hair color but with light green eyes.

Im just imagining Epel’s giant family living in the same farmhouse and it being this small, warm, friendly place out in the country with plaid red curtains and little apple accessories everywhere and quilts and a big fireplace they all talk by 🥺🥺

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suchalonelysunflower · 3 years ago

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Searching Clearer Skies

Where The Storm Gathers - Chapter 1

Pairing: Stable Lad! Calum Hood x Princess! Reader

Summary: Safe and sound at the Crimson Islands, Y/N and Calum adjust to their new life

Warnings: Mentions of abuse. Violence. Blood. Murder. Guilt. Language. Some grammatical errors (English is not my first language, I’m sorry)

Word Count: 8K

Author’s Note: My babes are here! I would love to know your thoughts for this 🥺Remember that Reblogs, Feedback, Comments and likes are super important and they help me a lot 💕 Hope you like it and Happy Reading 🦋🌻✨

My materialist // wanna be part of my taglist?

Book 2 Materialist || Prologue

The whinny of the horse echoed throughout the woods as the horseshoes crashed against the mud, slipping a few times on its steps but still standing tall as the race continued, encouraged by its rider.

The storm was strong and merciless, dark clouds hovering over the sky crashing one against the other and creating thunders that lasted for more than a minute. The winds whistled threats as the raindrops soaked the ground violently, flooding the path. One wrong move and everything could be lost for those who wander under this storm, but only madmen are capable of doing it.

But Calum was not a madman, he was desperate. His heart beat fast as he hunched over the horse, commanding him to go faster and faster into the darkness. His clothes were soaked and his eyelashes were glued together due to the raindrops that cut through his body like a knife, making it impossible for him to see past the head of the horse.

Lightning crashed, the thunder roared and still, they weren’t as loud as his voice calling his beloved’s name.

He went wherever his heart would tell him to, no second-guessing as he jumped over the fallen carcass of trees that were hit by the wild winds that were blowing, but his determination allowed him to stay put, never once failing to catch himself back in the moment, running faster and faster hoping to get there in time.

“Y/N!” He shouted above the thunder, commanding the horse to take a sharp left as a flash of lightning came crashing down near them.

How did they end up there? So far away and without each other. What made them torn apart? Yet, none of those questions could be answered right now. There was no point to them. Not when she was gone and he couldn’t find her.

The woods seem to expand with every gallop, just a sea of darkness in front of him, an endless void of a starless night, and an unreachable ending as his hopes were starting to falter.

“Y/N!” He cried, voice already hoarse and strained. The strings of his heart almost breaking to the point of feeling nothing but pain every time silence would answer him “Y/N!”

“Calum!”

It was faint, almost inaudible over the rain. Anyone could think that it was just a simple and cruel trick of the mind. But only Calum could recognize that voice anywhere; it was his love and she was in danger.

“Calum!”

She called again, but from where? The echo made it seem like she was everywhere and nowhere at once. Almost as if she was some kind of bird in which his name was cursed to be her calling, always chasing but never catching it.

“Y/N! Where are you?!”

He ran, as far as the horse’s legs would let him as he encouraged the animal to go even faster as they went against the storm walking right into it as he kept calling her name. Knowing that even if she was in the middle of a hurricane, he would never stop until he found her.

“You’re running out of time, boy” A sinister voice accompanied by her cries mixed with the thunder echoed through the woods, but for Calum, it felt almost as if they were whispered in his ear.

The stable lad tightened his grip on the reins and commanded the stallion to go faster “Y/N!”

But he hears nothing but cries. Earth Shattering screams bleed into his head, suffocating him as he cried for her, praying to every deity that was still loyal to them that she would be okay.

“Calum!” It seemed so far, but so close at the same time “Calum!” So he kept going.

Trees would fall; lightning would scatter and the thunder roared, and he ignored all of them. He just needed to get to her even if the world around him seemed to fade into nothingness.

Y/N’s screams seemed to get louder and louder until suddenly, they disappeared.

Calum pulled on the reins, making everything but the rain stop. His heavy breathing was ringing in his ears as he looked around, wondering where she went. But it wasn’t until a ray of lightning hit the ground that he saw her.

She was standing at the edge of a cliff with a tear-stained face, looking straight at him but not moving an inch. Her hair clung to her face as the rain-soaked her entire figure, making her white dress become nothing but a rag.

“Cal…” She whispered, but he still heard it loud and clear.

He jumped off the horse the moment he saw her, an immense sense of relief and happiness came over him as he started to run, calling out for her as the moon calls her stars.

But then, he saw it. A silver light shine pressed against her neck; only a glimpse, only a second, but enough to make him stop in his tracks, just a few meters far from her.

“Glad to know that you have some common sense, boy” The sinister voice called again, but this time Calum knew exactly who it was.

As quick as a bolt of lightning, King Richard made his appearance, wrapping a leather-gloved hand over Y/N’s throat, making her head fall back onto his shoulders as he squeezed just enough to make tears spill from her face.

A condescending, pleased smirk came to his face, watching with red-blooded eyes how she succumbed to his strength. Then, he slowly turned to Calum, showing all of his teeth in a wicked smile.

“So glad you could make it,” He said, pressing the tip of the knife into her skin “I was starting to think you would never find us, and what’s the fun in that?”

“Let her go” Calum nearly growled, taking a step closer to them but stopping the moment Richard pressed the knife harder, drawing a drop of blood from her neck.

Richard smiled “You’re smart. Good At least I know my daughter has a bit of sense when it comes to her choosing a partner” He sneered

“Let. Her. Go” Calum repeated, clenching his fists at his sides and with his heart beating as fast as the rainfall “She’s got nothing to do with this”

“She has everything to do with this!” Richard barked, moving the grip from her neck into her arms and digging his fingers into her skin, leaving marks that might stay there for days.

“Father, please-” Y/N begged in between coughs for air “Leave him be”

“Oh, I will dear. But I must teach this boy a lesson first”

Calum set his desperate eyes on her, unable to hide the fear in them as he watched how she tried to regain her breathing without any sudden moves that could get her closer to the knife.

“Y/N-”

“Cal, please go” She begged, pressing her lips into a thin line to try and drown the pain and the fear “He can’t hurt you here”

He shook his head “I’m not leaving without you”

“How touching”

Calum’s eyes became hard as stone as he turned to the King, standing straighter despite the rain’s attempt to bring him down with them.

“Leave her alone,” He said coldly, taking one step closer “Or I promise you, your head will roll down that cliff with the scum where you belong”

The King just laughed hysterically, closing his eyes as he shook his head slowly “You really think you can threaten me? Me?! I am your King!”

“Calum…”

“You are nothing but a fake! A coward who hides behind his daughter’s body. If you’re so valiant, come and face me like a man”

Richard smiled, almost as if he was waiting for it.

“Oh, Calum, Calum… That’s where you’re wrong” He said, eyes darkening as his smile widened “I’m not a man. I’m a King”

And all that Calum could hear afterward was the sound of the knife slashing her throat.

He jolted awake with beams of sweat running down his forehead, his whole body was drenched in sweat which made him think he was back in the woods. But Calum wouldn’t, Calum couldn’t because the woods were at home in RoseWood and there were no woods in the Isles.

His brown eyes quickly landed on his side, finally being able to breathe with some sort of relief the moment he saw her sleeping there: His wife.

Y/N had her face pressed into the pillow, shifting slightly and mumbling something in her dream when his hand came to brush some of her hair that had fallen into her face, covering her beauty from him. Calum watched her sleep for a few minutes, thanking every god there is for allowing him to live this moment, even if it was just for a few more hours before they have to wake up. He just wished she could sleep peacefully tonight, no nightmares.

Outside the window it was still raining, it hasn’t stopped since they came here almost six months ago. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw the sun, but he knew he always felt warm with her by his side. And she was by his side, and that was the most important thing. She was there with him, alive and well and still in love with him. He could go a lifetime without sunshine if it meant to keep her safe.

Thunders were roaring and he was thankful that Y/N was a heavy sleeper, he even was a little jealous because he knows he won’t be able to fall asleep again. He never does after those kinds of nightmares.

The memory of that afternoon in the woods still haunts him. The screams the Princess let out when she begged her father for mercy still live in his head, reminding him that this was all his fault. He could still hear her call his name; feel her cling into his aching body on the damped, humid cells of the dungeon; and, even if she won’t admit it, he still remembers the sadness in her eyes when they had to leave home because “home” was not safe enough. And he can’t help but to feel guilty.

Calum rose from their bed, wiping a damped cloth over his face as he walked up to the window, hoping that the rain could wash out his fears and bring him back to the present. He leaned over, pressing his forearm to the glass as he watched the clouds crash against one another, counting the seconds after the lightning to hear its sounds.

He doesn’t know how much time he stayed there, maybe a few minutes, maybe hours. What he knows is that he could never truly relax until he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist, smiling when he noticed a gold wedding band adorning one of the fingers.

“It’s cold without you there” She mumbled, pressing her cheek against his back.

“I know, I’m sorry,” He said, placing his hands on top of hers.

“Hmm, you knew and you still left” Y/N reprimanded, making him chuckle as he lifted her hand and placed a soft kiss on her palm “It was another nightmare, wasn’t it?”

“It’s always the same, at least the ending is”

“You could talk to me, you know? Maybe it could help” She offered, slipping into his arms and ending up in front of him, doe eyes looking straight at him “I hate to see you so caught up in there,” Her hands flew to either side of his face, cupping it delicately “Just let me in, let me help you”

Calum smiled softly “You’re too kind, my rose. But this is not a burden I’d want you to carry. It is only mine to bear”

“It doesn’t have to be,” She said. “You’ve helped me carry my burden for years, creating a safe space with you while my nightmare was just beginning. You’ve helped me so much, Cal. Why can’t you let me do the same?”

“Because I’m selfish,” He smiled “And besides, now it’s not a time to talk about nightmares”

“Why?”

“Cause the sun’s coming up”

Y/N gasped and turned around, but was only met with cloudy skies and a light drizzle. Then, she turned around with a frown only to find Calum trying not to smile.

“That’s not funny,” She said, punching him lightly on the chest. “Besides, how do you know it’s morning already? You can’t see anything past those clouds and the fog”

“Take the word from a man who worked his whole life on a field” He laughed, placing one hand at either side of her waist and pulling her closer “And you also look gorgeous in the morning”

Y/N hummed as he kissed her forehead “Didn’t my husband say I look gorgeous every single time of day?”

“Did he?” Calum asked, placing kisses all over her cheeks and down to her jaw and neck “Must be a very observant and smart man”

“Yes,” She let out a breathy giggle, tangling her hands at the back of his head. “But don’t tell him, or his ego would be unstoppable…” She sighed when his lips met the spot behind her ear, curling her fingers but finding nothing to hold on to “God, I miss your curls”

“They’ll grow back” He whispered in her ear, biting it slightly as his hands traveled to the back of her thighs, picking her up with ease without ever stopping the work of his mouth on her skin.

“Cal…” She breathed, “Take me to bed”

“As you wish”

He pulled away just in time for her hand to cup his cheek, bringing him closer as their lips met, carefully savoring their moment as he carried her to bed.

Life at the Isles was nothing like in RoseWood, that was for sure.

Thanks to Ashton, Y/N could keep her title as The Princess of Roses, yet the benefits she used to hold at her birthplace did not follow. Here, she was just another member of King Alex’s court and so was Calum and although it was not what they were used to, they managed to adapt pretty quickly.

Early in the mornings, all members of the court were expected to stand in the throne room to receive the King and Queen and discuss what’s been going on with the Kingdom; after that, Y/N and Calum went their separate ways.

The ladies of the court were free to choose any activity or class of their liking, something foreigner to the Princess who's been told all her life what she should do. While the men of the court were sent to train or to their own business to negotiate trades with other kingdoms. When they arrived, Calum offered his service as a Stable Lad, yet that position was already taken and King Alex thought he might work better as an apprentice of the Welder, hence the ring on his wife’s finger and his matching one on his left hand, made out of just for her by his own hands.

Still, life at the Isles was pretty lonely. Words travel fast, especially when a runaway Princess and her new not-Royal husband escape their Kingdom a day before her wedding to a powerful King. And while King Alex was very aware of the situation, the other members of the court had their own ideas, and so, rumors started to spread.

But neither Calum nor Y/N paid much attention to them. They knew their story, they knew what they went through. So the words of strangers did not damage them but made them stronger, ready to prove them wrong when they were underestimated. And, after all, they had each other and they were safe, that was the only thing that mattered to them.

“Do you think he’ll notice we were late?” Y/N asked as she hurried her steps through the stone-floored hallway

“There is still time,” Calum assured her “Although we might not make it to our places in time”

“And surely Lady Johana will have something to say about it” She rolled her eyes “I can’t believe you convinced me to stay in bed a little longer than we’re used to”

Calum chuckled “It’s not like you needed much convincing anyway, Rose. After all, dear wife, who was the one that couldn’t keep her hands off-“

“Say another word and I’ll tell Lord Gillian how interested you are in learning ancient geology” She challenged with a smile, the same one she held every time she playfully threatened him since they were children.

Calum just rolled his eyes and grabbed Y/N by the waist, sweeping her off her feet and pulling her closer to him as she squealed, trying to get away from his grasp as he started to tickle her.

“Cal! Noooo” She tried to hold her laughter as he hid his face on her neck, putting her down and wrapping his arms around her waist, holding her closer “You’re a menace”

“Yet, you still chose to marry me” He kissed her cheek “So I’m your menace, no one else’s”

“Hmm, you better” She pecked his lips “But my menace of a husband is going to make us late”

Y/N slid from his grasp, grabbing his hand and pulling him with her as they made their way to the throne room and take the small space in the corner, earning a few glances from the not-so-friendly members of the court.

King Alex’s throne room was not as big as the one in RoseWood, nor as brightly lit. But it was enough to hold all 30 members of the court, the monarchs, their pets, and a few servants who always stayed put in case they were needed.

All members of the court stood in a semi-circle around the two throne chairs, all of them with an assigned space where they would wait until the King or Queen asked them something, or until the meeting was over.

It was weird for the couple to see such order and respect for each individual, given that Y/N’s father was not one to take advice from people and just act out of his own thoughts and ideas, no matter how cruel or crazy they might be. But King Alex was always fair, a bit eccentric and sometimes narcissistic, but always fair and respectful towards others; not to mention a good friend for the RoseWood’s Prince, taking Y/N and Calum in and promising them nothing but safety in his realm.

He was a respected man, a noble, humble King that carried no weapons in his court because his trust was always in his friends. Yet, today when the servants opened the door for him and the Queen, it was the frown set upon his face that made all conversations die as he made his way to his throne.

King Alex’s eyes surveyed the room, biting the inside of his cheek lightly as he laid his eyes on the RoseWood bound couple before sitting down.

“Sir Steriff!” The King called, making everyone in the room shake at the sudden boom of his voice.

“Y-yes, your Majesty?” Poor Sir Cleamont Steriff stuttered, but King Alex just rolled his eyes.

“How’s the situation down at the bay? Sources say that there’s a clear decline in the production”

The questions were not as serious or as important as his voice made them out to be. Y/N could recognize that tone of hidden anger, it was the same tone her father used when he had to speak to her in a public setting, and the same one Ashton used when something about his royal duties as an heir bothered him. She knew Calum could recognize that too, so when her eyes met his she found the same comforting look he used to give her, as well as a tug on her hand for reassurance.

It was in the small moments where Y/N found herself back in RoseWood; a simple whisper or ill-intentioned look brought back the memory of her father; the sound of crystal shattering or the sound of a whip or a slap; even the shadows that surrounded the palace made her wary of what may hide inside them, wondering if there could ever be free of the crows and her father’s power over her.

Because even when they were kingdoms away, a father’s harm can still hurt and the memories may never be forgotten as long as they shall live, but they’ll live differently in a separate perspective where one is a villain and the other one is smiling over that fact. Y/N was still learning to live with that darkness, make it part of herself so she could let go and grow with it and never let it win.

Luckily for her, Calum was willing to do anything and everything to make sure that she was safe in every single sense of the word. For Calum has had his own share of darkness, the moments that haunt him at night even though the proof of their victory is still the beating of their hearts. It was the demons they had to face, but they would never do it on their own, not as long as their hands are intertwined and their love lives in their hearts.

“I would like to request an audience with Princess Y/N and Sir Hood” Alex’s voice made them go back to reality, feeling all eyes on them as they solemnly nod and bow “Alone. You are all dismissed”

The whispers were louder this time. A handful of eyes looking in their direction going from pitiful to curious to confused. The King rarely asked for private audiences, so no one really knew if they should feel grateful or jealous at the couple’s fate.

Once the room got cleared out except for The King and Queen, a few servants, and Calum and Y/N, King Alex finally let out a sigh, leaning his back against the throne and pinching the skin right between his eyes.

“Your Majesty,” The two of them said in unison as they approached the throne, bowing.

“Rise,” King Alex commanded. “I assume the two of you would not hide something from me after I gave you shelter under my kingdom, correct?”

“Yes, Your Majesty” Calum answered, not even batting an eye “We could never hide something from you”

“You’ve been so good to us,” Y/N added, a kind smile playing on her lips as she looked between the monarchs “We owe you two so much for all your kindness and understanding. We might never be able to repay it”

“There is no need for a settlement of debt” The Queen smiled, placing her hand over her husband’s “And we have no doubts about your intentions in our kingdom, knowing how difficult it was for you to get out of RoseWood. But-”

“But there’s been some unsettling news that traveled all the way overseas” The King finished “And any information you have about it would be useful for us”

“If we can ease Your Majesty’s mind with something, then we’ll do our best for it to be so,” Calum said with a nod, standing straighter and looking directly at the King so he knew he wasn’t lying.

“There is a rumor running around,” The King of the Isles said gravely “That the King of Roses has an army ready for battle and that he wants to go to war with all the nearby Kingdoms who oppose him”

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat “It can’t be”

“It is said that other kingdoms have started to revoke their promises to RoseWood until a true leader comes along and that Richard is not happy about it. Would you happen to know anything that could confirm or deny this rumor?”

“I’m afraid we possess no such information, Your Majesty” Calum said, practically ripping the words out of Y/N's Mouth even though she was too frightened to even speak “The last time we heard news about King Richard was that he lost all support from The Vail when King Luke swore allegiance to his son, Prince Ashton. Maybe the other kingdoms got winds about the deal and did the same”

“And my father does not have an army,” Y/N added, hands shaking at the memories “He offered to marry me to King Luke to gain the most powerful army with the warriors of The Vail since RoseWood’s soldiers could not face so many kingdoms at once. The last news we got was from one of King Luke’s letters saying that my father was in shambles when it came to political power, and do believe me Your Majesty when I say that King Richard is not a strong man to pick himself up on his own”

King Alex’s hummed, seemingly pleased with the answers “I know your loyalties lie with the right side of the story,” He said, making the two of them let out a breath of relief “But truth is that you’ve been away from home for far too long to know if things have indeed changed in the months you’ve been here in Crimson Isles. Say, Your Highness, any news from our dear Prince?”

Y/N visibly tensed and her hand reached for Calum’s in an unconscious and instant move at the mention of her brother's name, the only one who’s been consuming her thoughts with worry for she didn’t know anything about him since they went away.

“I’m afraid not, Your Majesty,” She said, clearing her throat “Although I’m hopeful that by the next shipping news will come from RoseWood”

“Let us pray it’ll be that way” The Queen answered with an understanding smile “Our dear Prince Ashton must be very busy as always, but he will not forget us”

“Captain Merrick will come in a fortnight” King Alex added “I’ll request an audience with him and with the two of you. My Lord,” He said, referring to Calum who nodded “I take your lessons are going well?”

“Yes, Your Majesty”

“And your lessons, Your Highness? Is Maester Lorcas treating you well?”

Y/N smiled with ease “I’m learning a lot from the Maester, it’s an honor to be his pupil and I’m thankful for the opportunity”

King Alex smiled as well, pleased that the two of them were content in his court “And we are grateful that you’re here and safe. Now, you may go on with your day. You’re dismissed, if anything new comes regarding King Richard, I’ll let you know”

Calum and Y/N thanked the King and Queen with a bow before exiting the throne room. They walked a few meters, making sure no one was following them when Calum pulled her to a secluded hallway, finally letting out their worried breaths as they stood one in front of the other.

“Calum…” She said, eyes wide open with a threat of tears gathering at the corners.

“It’s okay, Rose,” He said, cupping her cheek with his palm, masking his own worry. “It’s just a rumor. We both know your father cannot do much with Asthon there, and even if he sent him to another political trip, the army is not strong, not under his command”

He was trying to be reasonable. RoseWood’s army was good and it could manage in a battle. Yet, with King Richard on the throne the administration of it never really progressed into anything else than a simple guard. They were not equipped for war and it seemed rather impossible for them to become a force to be reckoned with in less than a year.

“But we don’t know where Ashton is!” Y/N whispered, trying to bite her tongue almost as if the blood that might drop from it might keep her grounded “Calum, it’s been months since his last letter and I know my brother. I know he won’t break his promise to write to us; to me. And I can’t shake this feeling that maybe-”

“If anything were to happen we would already be informed” Calum tilted her head so she could look him in the eyes “I’m not disregarding your feelings, my love. But we also try not to draw conclusions too quickly. The weather here might’ve delayed any letters and if Captain Merrick is on his way he might bring news from him. We must remain hopeful, Ashton will be fine”

The stable lad pulled her close, placing a small kiss on her forehead as he felt her shoulders relax into the embrace.

“Do you want me to walk you to the laboratory?” He asked with a small smile, running his hands up and down her arms. Y/N shook her head.

“I’ll be fine, my love, thank you. Thank you for everything”

Calum smiled, cupping her face one more time as he took her in. All of her and her beautiful eyes looking at him, filled with love and comfort, he knew he was right where he was meant to be just by looking into those eyes.

“I love you, my little rose”

“I love you more”

The color of the liquid changed from yellow to green inside the little pot as it started to boil, making the Maester gasp as Y/N smiled proudly at her mixture.

“Your Highness! That’s a perfect ointment there!” The old man said, practically jumping with joy as he mixed the spoon with the now gooey product “And on your first try! May the gods bless those hands, Princess. You’re a natural!”

A small scoff was heard around the room, undoubtedly coming from one of the other ladies from the court that also chose to learn more about medicine. Yet, Y/N kept her head held high, as a Princess she was raised to bow to no one that didn’t deserve her respect and she was not going to let some ill-intended comments get to her, not after everything she had to endure from people that were meant to love her.

But that didn’t mean Maester Lorcas would keep the same composure.

“Lady Gillian,” He said, raising one of his white, bushy brows “Care to share with the class what this ointment does? From what I see, you still haven’t finished yours”

Lady Gillian gasped as her cheeks turned beat red, mumbling under her breath: “I did finish mine”

Maester Lorcas hummed with disdain “Can anyone else tell me what is that you’re doing right now? Why is important? Anyone?”

Y/N raised her hand “The ointment is mostly used to treat scars; one needs to scatter it across the damaged tissue every six hours and let it rest on the patient’s sink. If treated immediately, it could potentially erase the scar and prevent further damage and infections. It also works to erase any dark spots of the skin if accompanied by other treatments”

The old Maester smiled and laughed joyfully at her answer “See?!” He asked the other ladies “That’s what happens when you pay attention instead of talking about the latest gossip that everyone already knows on this small Island. You learn. Good job, Your Highness, as usual”

“Just because she’s a princess doesn’t mean she gets special treatment” One of the other ladies scoffed under her breath. Y/N only rolled her eyes and went back to her mixture “She had the perfect life anyway”

“Maybe if you stop whispering about her as if she wasn’t in the same room, you’ll be able to do something more than to waste everyone’s time,” Y/N said, not even turning around as she added a bit more chamomile seeds “I was raised to see honor and value in everything except on empty words and ill thoughts, and to respect every soul as an equal, no matter their background, something that you all lack. But maybe it’s a Princess’ thing and you wouldn’t know about that” She said, finally turning around with an unreadable face “Feel free to keep talking, it’s your right. But it is going to take more than that to try and hurt me. And maybe I could take it more seriously if you say it to my face”

The ladies all snickered and scoffed, lifting their noses and going back to their own pots as they tried and failed to get the recipe right. Y/N turned around, sending a complicit look to the Maester who stood and watched with a proud smile at how those nasty women were put back in their places with such grace.

Still, Y/N could not share the same joy as she sighed, going back to her work without saying another word.

She knew that life at the Isles would be a hard adjustment, but she was doing a great job considering the rumors that surrounded her. From the very first day in court whispers about how she was a runaway bride, breaking a powerful King’s heart as she decided to flee with her secret lover from a much lower social class. Others said she was bewitched; others that she was some kind of witch herself. No one knew about the hell she went through or the pain inside her heart at having to leave her hometown and the only family she loved behind.

Yes, she always dreamt of flying away from home, finding new horizons with Calum by her side. Find the home she never had on RoseWood, to begin with. But the guilt of leaving her beloved brother behind after knowing what her father was capable of; the pain of leaving behind all her mother’s memories; and the undying feeling of knowing something was wrong consumed her every day, wishing she could have more time to say goodbye to the place that saw her become the person she was today, maybe one last goodbye to the tree that saw her love bloom or one last trip to the square town, promising to go back one day when the skies were clearer and the danger was far gone.

She knew that time would come eventually, but without any news from Ashton, those hopes seemed farther and farther away.

“Your Highness?” Maester Lorcas asked, bringing her back from her thoughts “May I have a word?”

Only then did Y/N notice that the lesson was over and they were the only ones in the old lab.

“I must say, Princess, that I am very impressed,” He said, sitting on his chair with some difficulty “Are you sure you’ve never had any experience in the medical field?”

Y/N smiled, looking down as her cheeks were tinted pink “I can’t say I have, Maester. RoseWood didn’t let the royal family ever step foot into the infirmary unless it was an emergency. Fearing we might get sick”

Maester Lorcas laughed, raising his brows “Say, I never took you for one to follow the rules”

“Certainly not,” She laughed as well. “There were… situations in which I had to fend for myself to get an ointment or two without anyone noticing. My husband used to help me get them after I told them which one would be useful and effective, taking the information I stole from the Maesters at the palace”

“Must be a loyal one, that husband of yours”

“I wouldn’t be here without him,” She said, smiling at the memory of Calum helping her heal the wounds her father would give her, stealing from the town’s Maester or directly from the palace with the empty promise of it being the last time he would have to see her in pain because “it won’t happen again, you’ll see” until it happened again “Still, I was always interested in healing. So when King Alex so kindly offered to take these classes, I knew I couldn’t say no and prevent myself from so much knowledge”

“And let’s pray you might never have to use this knowledge if you come back home”

Those words seemed to spark something in her as she raised her gaze to the old Maester who looked at her with crystalized eyes and a knowing, merciful and understanding smile. Almost as if he could see the scars and old bruises that still covered her body. Still, he said nothing and Y/N was thankful for that.

“It’s an honor to have you as a student, Your Highness,” He said “For what its worth, I am glad that you came here”

Y/N pressed her lips in a thin line, nodding lightly before bowing and leaving the room. Feeling somehow validated by a stranger, finally someone she could trust.

The evening rain was stronger than this morning’s, still, that didn’t stop Calum from training, nothing did.

He swung the sword with such ease, cutting through the rain in synchronized moves; placing his feet where they were supposed to be; his breathing calm and collected as he raised his elbow to the level of his eyes, ready to strike again against the invisible evil that stood in front of him.

Grunts due to the effort escaped his lips as the rain fell on top of his buzz-shaved head, soaking him completely and making his white shirt cling to his skin, rain, and beads of sweat mixing and falling to the ground. But Calum didn’t care about how tired he might be or who might see him fight the rain. In his head, he could still hear her screams and watch her fall to her death without him being able to do anything about it.

The vivid memory of Y/N’s screams back in the woods; her father’s laughter as he started to hit her, grabbing her by the hair and kicking her sides while she pleaded for mercy on him, pleading with tears in her eyes for his guards not to hurt the man she loved.

All he could see at that moment was her. He did not care about the guards beating him up, if anything he couldn’t feel anything anymore, not while she was in pain, and all because of him. He tried to stand up, oh how many times did he try, but all that got him was mocking laughs from the King and his guards, feeling pathetic as he couldn’t protect her.

The sword made a swoosh sound, cutting his thoughts short as he started to hit the mock doll that they had ready for training. Only a crazy person would be training under the rain; but Calum was not crazy, he was determined. Determined to get those screams out of his head.

When King Alex offered him a job as a welder apprentice he took it with the condition to also have time for training. Y/N asked him why the sudden interest in learning how to fight with a sword, but how could he even explain without bringing her more pain than the one she was already carrying?

For years he stood and watched the mistreatment she suffered at the hands of her father; the abuse and cruelty she went through. Still, she managed to smile and see the beauty in everything, carrying such compassion in her heart and the hope for things to change. He wished he could be better, just like her. And he tried when she begged him to wait for her birthday so they could finally be free… He now knows he should’ve strode into the castle that night and confronted him, consequences be damned, but at least she would’ve been safer.

His heart was beating strongly inside his chest as he closed his eyes and let his instincts guide him on his next movements, imagining that exact moment in the woods and all the things he could’ve done.

Y/N watched with a heavy heart how her husband moved under the rain, hitting the target once, twice, three times before starting again with different moves.

She ponders on how much Calum has changed since they came to the Crimson Isles. He cut his hair short, fearing someone might recognize him upon arrival and bring Richard’s rage upon them; the muscles on his back and arms were more defined, more broadly as he scheduled at least two training sessions every day without missing a single one. But it was in his eyes where she could notice the biggest change, they were still warm and full of love whenever he looked at her, but it was in the moments when he thought she wasn’t looking that got her worried; she could see the storm that was hiding in them, all the thoughts he didn’t share, the pain and cold memories that haunt him.

It was impossible to lie. For Calum, it was impossible to lie to her, even if he was just hiding the truth.

She jumped when the iron sword hit the ground, Calum was still giving his back to her as he crouched to get the bow and arrow that was lying on the ground, moving swiftly towards the Alamy that stood at the other side, shooting arrow after arrow as the muscles on his back tensed.

Her eyes gazed at the sky, getting darker as the storm was getting restless, not thinking twice as she walked towards him, letting the mud cling to her dress as the rain covered her whole.

“It’s late,” She said as Calum hit the target.

“I know,” He answered, grabbing another arrow from the quiver, not even turning around to see her “I’ll be there soon”

“Calum,”

The thunder roared above them, but neither of them even dared to flinch as the arrow hit the target once again.

There were so many things unsaid under the rain, a pang of shared guilt and an indescribable fear, so similar and yet so different at the same time.

“Calum, let’s go to bed” She insisted with a sweet but firm voice “It’s time”

“Just- I need to get this right”

“Why? We are safe here” She put a hand on his shoulder, making him visibly relax “Cal…”

“It’s okay,” He whispered with a sigh, turning to look at her through the raindrops “I’ll be up there soon, my rose. You don’t have to wait out here in the rain”

“You shouldn’t be out here in the rain, my love”

“I want to be ready”

“For what?” She sighed, shaking her head before meeting his gaze once again “Sometimes I wish I could know what you’re thinking, the things you’re not telling me for some reason”

Calum looked at the floor “I don’t think there’s anything you don’t already know, my rose”

She nodded, giving him a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes like she used to do. Then, she took a step back but stood still as her eyes never left his.

“Y/N,”

“I’m not letting you be in the rain all on your own, Cal,” She said, squinting her eyes due to the rain.

“You’re going to get sick,” The stable lad argued, but the Princess just shrugged.

“Too bad!” He was about to say something else but she cut him off “We are a team, Calum. Where you go, I go. If you get sick then so will I. You knew that before we married so don’t pretend I’ll leave without my husband”

Calum couldn’t help but smile, even though he tried, but the word “my husband” coming out of her lips still brought butterflies inside of him, reminding him of how lucky he was to be able to call her “his wife”

He knew there was no way to stop her if she wanted to stay. Y/N was never the one who took a no for an answer when her head was stuck on something so firmly, so stubborn yet so kind and loving. Calum could not love her more even if he tried, and he knew she loved him, too. So how not rejoice in that?

“What kind of husband will leave his wife standing in the rain?” He asked, taking a step closer to her.

“The worst kind, of course,” She smiled, placing her hands on his chest “But mine stays with me, so the debt is paid”

“The other husband should take notes”

“Maybe he should”

They both smiled before Calum wrapped his arm around her waist, bringing her closer as she stood on her tiptoes, brushing their lips together as they started to feel warm under the cold storm. Knowing they’ll be alright after all.

When the morning came so did the breeze, making Y/N shiver as she nuzzled into Calum’s chest, letting his heartbeat be the melody that will lure her back to sleep. She could feel his strong arms wrapped around her, bringing her closer as he stirred awake, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head.

Their legs were tangled under the sheets, finding warmth and comfort in each other’s embrace as they didn’t say a word. There was no need to say what they already knew, what they already felt deep inside their hearts. Safe and sound as they let the morning take its time to arrive.

Still, the breeze kept blowing, getting colder each time as it blew through the sails of a ship called the Kaleidoscope where a man stood proudly with a smirk as The Crimson Isles could already be seen standing a few kilometers away.

“My Lord?” The captain of the ship called his attention “We’ll be arriving shortly, just wanted to let you know so you can get your luggage ready”

“Thank you, Captain Merrick” The man smiled, extending his hand, taking the captain to shake “You are so very kind. I’m anxious to go back to the Isles after so many years”

“You said you were traveling a lot?”

“For work, yes”

Merrick hummed, narrowing his eyes “What do you do for a living, my Lord? If you don’t mind me asking”

“Ah, I worked for several Ladies and Lords from different courts around the world” The man smiled “Some easier to work with than others”

“I see,” The captain nodded “Is that where…?” He was pointing to the scar that ran down the mysterious man’s left eye, a mark he seldom saw in travelers.

“This? Got it from an altercation at The Vail. A misunderstanding, you see, people from The Vail are… not as trustworthy as one might think”

The charming smile that man wore could convince anyone of his lies as the captain clearly believed him.

“Haven’t heard from people from The Vail in a while”

“Really?”

“Yes, the last conversation I had with someone with a connection from that place was a Princess and her new husband,” The captain said, trying to sound as vague as possible for the stranger that unbeknown to him was already aware of the story “I heard nothing but good things about their King”

“You might be surprised” The man muttered under his breath “You said you were going to King Alex’s court once we get there, is that correct?”

The captain nodded “King Alex is an old friend, and he requested an audience.”

“Would it be okay if I come along?” The man asked “I want to present my loyalty and service to the crown and I believe it would be comforting to do it in the presence of such a nice acquaintance”

“I don’t see why not. Could you remind me of your name, my Lord? That way I can let the King know we’re on our way”

“Jefferson,” The man said “Bernard Jefferson”

And just like that and with a simple but elaborated lie, the crow’s plan started to take flight.

tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @mystic-232 @talksoprettyjjx @theshyspy @hoodhoran @flaneurcth @conversecake @bubblegum18 @irwin-fletcher-ash @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @1980holland @wiiildflowerrr @hoplessromantic727 @fivesecondsofonedirection @another-lonely-heart @aabc5sauce @dudethisiswhyyoudonthavefriends @fakebetch9694 @5sos-imagine @SunflowerAngel2123 @perfectnouis @in-superbloom @lukeisstillapenguin @sadcupofcoffee @superstarmarvel @personalmuyverypersonal @cnco.angels @vtte @as-hs-blog @himbohood @sofiaaraee @irwindoll @lolzkye @ashtonsunflower @nicebasscalum @calumspupils @secretsicanthideanymore @the-ghost-of-ash @alltimepogue @wontlastimokwiththat @ttinahood @lukespitinmymouth @perfectnouis @cncoangelss @darrensos @whywontyoulovemecami @itwouldburnupintheatmosphere-de @yeah-and69 @fckingpernico @multistann @averageantichrist @a-darneddarling @tpwkcth @f-mu @kindahumanbutalsoinsane @floweronyourskin @ihavenoideawhattodowithyou @bittersweetb4by @aria-grace-scott @thestarsandtheircoffee @bvbygxrl @luisa180206 @xxxlaura

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the-last-kenobi · 3 years ago

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AHHH YOU’RE TAKING REQUESTS 🚨🚨🚨 Okay okay uhhhhh I can’t decide between 13 or 18 so you choose! With hurt Obi-Wan and caretaker Anakin, please!

I AM INDEED TAKING PROMPTS

And because you’re amazing and I love all your writing I have decided to write both 13 and 18 into one story, we’ll see how this goes yikes.

From this various prompts list

Anakin moved quickly up the hallway, trying to keep his footsteps as soft as possible.

It was very late — or very early, depending on one’s point of view. The low-lights were on, and Anakin felt like he was intruding somehow, in this residential wing that was almost entirely deserted due to the war.

The damned war.

Anakin clenched his fists. I can’t afford to be angry right now, he told himself. I need to talk to Obi-Wan and I can’t start out by yelling at him.

It was tempting to lash out at Obi-Wan.

They hadn’t had a proper conversation in months, not since the Hardeen operation and everything that it had entailed, and then Obi-Wan up and vanished on some discreet mission, stopping only to ask Anakin for a ship to borrow.

Anakin had discovered Obi-Wan’s return only when Acquisitions had notified him that his ship would be late in returning to his care due to extensive damage. Flight logs indicated that his Master had returned a full five days before. Five days without so much as a comm message letting his lineage know he was back home. Nothing.

For a few hours Anakin had foundered, stewing in disbelief and anger, but as night crept in he had begun to feel something different.

Concern.

And something that might have been the Force, prompting him, pushing him.

And so here he was, silently keying in the manual code to Obi-Wan’s quarters — technically still his own, although he spent most nights at Padmé’s or in a private room.

The door swished open.

It was utterly dark.

That wasn’t unusual; when he had the chance, Obi-Wan preferred to sleep in complete darkness. He said it felt more natural. No distractions tugging at his brain.

What was unusual was the state of disarray.

There was a kettle sitting on the counter, so near the edge it made Anakin nervous. He walked over and moved it a few inches, his eyebrows flying up when he felt the weight. When he lifted the lid, it was obvious that this was days-old, and untouched to boot.

Was Obi-Wan sick? Was he in the Halls? Surely someone would have notified him. Surely.

Anakin looked around and took note of the robe discarded against the wall, the boots left in the middle of the walkway. There was an empty mug on the reading table, and a holo-still sitting beside it, as if Obi-Wan had stared at it for awhile and then set it down — the only item that looked carefully treated.

On closer inspection, it was a holo of Obi-Wan, far younger than Anakin had ever seen him, next to Qui-Gon and a dark-skinned woman he had never seen before.

Qui-Gon was in the center, facing a little to the left, his eyes on the woman, a full smile on his face. Anakin stared. The Jedi he remembered had been understated, his smiles always a little sad. This Qui-Gon looked about to throw his head back in laughter. The woman was looking down at Obi-Wan, who stood on Qui-Gon’s other side. She was nearly as tall as Qui-Gon, her hair was braided into several intricate sections; she was smirking conspiratorially at the young Padawan.

And Obi-Wan was smiling shyly back. Although his Master wasn’t looking at him, he had draped one arm around Obi-Wan, and the boy was leaning into the casual touch.

They all looked ridiculously young and ridiculously happy, and Anakin didn’t even know who one of them was. He had never heard of this woman, or why she wasn’t around any more, because she must not be, and he had certainly never heard stories of Obi-Wan’s apprenticeship. Not unless it was relevant to whatever they had been doing, or whatever lesson Obi-Wan had been trying to teach.

His Master was so damned secretive.

Angry again, Anakin replaced the holo-still and glanced around the room, thinking to check the Halls of Healing next.

Then he spotted something that made him instinctively recoil.

A Mandalorian helmet, sitting on the chair, painted in stark black and red and rendered in Death Watch’s style.

Heart hammering, Anakin picked it up and examined it, finding gouges and dents in the beskar alloy, signs of years of wear and tear.

Why was it here? Why was there a Death Watch helmet here, in their rooms? It didn’t make any sense!

His first wild thought was that the extremist group had somehow broken in, taken Obi-Wan, and left this behind. Then he mentally shook himself. That was beyond absurd.

So what then?

Anakin tucked the helmet under his arm and cautiously approached his former Master’s room, pressing the door aside slowly.

Obi-Wan was right there.

Sitting on his bed, dressed only in stained and scorched trousers and an undershirt, his head in his hands. His fingers were buried so deeply in his hair it looked as if he were trying to tear his skull open.

“Obi-Wan!” Anakin burst out without intending to, the last few hours of anger, confusion, and momentary panic getting the better of him.

Except the older man didn’t react at all.

“...Hey. Obi-Wan.”

After a pause, the man on the bed shifted slightly, and then sat up. His fingers hastily brushed his hair back into order as he did, and his face, though white as a sheet, was a perfectly blank mask.

Anakin didn’t buy a bit of it.

“Obi-Wan... tell me what’s going on.”

The man who was Obi-Wan but wasn’t acting at all like him gave a slight shrug. “There’s a lot going on, Anakin, we’re at war. What is it you needed at one in the morning?”

Well, at least he knows what time it is.

“You’ve been back for days. I haven’t seen you.”

“Ah. Your ship?”

“I’m not worried about the ship. I’m worried about you. I don’t even know where you were!” Anakin said, his voice rising again. He cut himself off quickly.

Obi-Wan frowned slightly. “I was... on leave.”

“On leave?” Obi-Wan didn’t go on leave. Obi-Wan never stopped working, hadn’t since Geonosis. “You said it was a mission.”

The older Jedi passed a hand over his mouth before speaking again. “I... it wasn’t an endorsed mission. I undertook it myself.”

A non-endorsed mission... “You mean you went off on your own?” Anakin demanded, shocked. “Tell me you weren’t chasing Maul!”

Obi-Wan went white to the lips. He opened his mouth to speak, and then he spotted the helmet under Anakin’s arm and choked on his words, falling dead silent.

Anakin considered for a moment. Then he studied the helmet again. Taking it in.

Death Watch.

Mandalore.

A personal, self-assigned mission.

Satine.

Red and black.

Maul.

“...Oh, Force, Obi-Wan.” Anakin said numbly. Thinking of Padmé. Thinking of Obi-Wan and the confession he’d made to Satine, one that Anakin had not been meant to overhear. “I’m so sorry.”

Obi-Wan said nothing.

He just stared at Anakin for a few moments before nodding his head in acknowledgement.

Anakin set the helmet down on the desk and edged closer to the bed, his eyes on his friend, wary as if he were approaching a traumatized animal. “Can I sit?”

A nod.

Anakin sat down.

“...Is it all right if I hug you?”

A very long pause. A small nod.

Anakin placed his palm on Obi-Wan’s back, then slowly moved so his arm was around the man’s shoulders. When Obi-Wan didn’t pull away, Anakin drew closer, tilting his head down to rest on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. Like he had when he was younger, and his Master was the best in the Temple, in the whole galaxy, and there was no war, just missions and too much meditation and time enough to just sit like this when they were tired and overwrought.

Obi-Wan shuddered in his hold. Not repulsed, but something else. Like he was cold.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin asked.

His friend shook his head, but trembled harder, his breathing fluctuating.

“Obi-Wan.”

“Feel... nauseous,” the redhead mumbled, and then he doubled over, toppling head over heels towards the floor. Anakin cried out, lunged and caught him just in time, hauling his former Master into his arms and holding him, his heart pounding from the sudden shock.

“How long has it been since you’ve slept? Or eaten?” he demanded, thinking of the tea kettle.

“Mm... not since the night I got back. For eating. I don’t know about sleeping. I honestly... can’t remember...” Obi-Wan murmured. He was shivering now, his face pale and twisted with discomfort. He looked too weak to move, and he really must have been, because all he managed when Anakin cradled him closer and stood up with him in his arms was a low groan.

“We’re going to the Halls,” Anakin informed him curtly, striding out of the room with Obi-Wan in his arms, still trembling.

Obi-Wan made a noise of protest, but Anakin shook his head. “No. You need to see Healers.” He watched his friend’s eyes mist over vaguely, with grief or with illness it was hard to say. “I’ll stay with you the whole time,” Anakin vowed, meaning every word. “It’ll be fine. As soon as they’re ready to release you we’ll come right back here and you can sleep in your own bed.”

Obi-Wan mumbled something that seemed to include, ‘not a child.’

“Yeah, yeah, and I’m not your Padawan anymore. We still boss each other around. Just how it is,” Anakin said.

Obi-Wan huffed a laugh, tilting his head against Anakin’s shoulder. He took a deep breath. Then another. And then he was asleep.

“Damn,” Anakin whispered aloud. “Damn, damn, damn, you’re really not in good shape. You shouldn’t be this easy to carry, for one thing. Dammit, Obi-Wan. Why do you have to be so secretive?”

Is he secretive?

Or have I just never asked, and never listened?

Anakin honestly didn’t know, and that bothered him.

“Sleep, Master,” he murmured, adjusting his arms so that Obi-Wan was more comfortable. “We’ll talk when you’re ready. I promise. I’ve got you. We’re going to make it through this whole damn war, together.”

#star wars #my writing #writing prompts #let the boys talk and hug #please #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #obi wan and anakin #angst prompt #angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #is this too ooc?#I can’t tell #it’s 1:30 am #I haven’t slept in two days #two days and two nights?#idk

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percabeth4life · 4 years ago

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Sorry to just jump in here and drop this on you, but i saw a blog once call percabeth an abusive relationship???? and i was like ?????? but none of my friends read pjo so i cant ask them for thoughts, how about you?

Oh boy anon so this is a thing.

Percabeth is abusive is a common thing those that hate percabeth or ship something else and want to validate it say, and why I have the “anti-percabeth” tag blocked.

I’ve seen people say Annabeth just giving him a dirty look was abuse, people will reach for anything done between them that isn’t perfect, usually to justify why their ship is better.

Honestly, I’m open to most ships. Percabeth is my main but if you ship things that’s totally fine, even if I don’t like it I won’t say you shouldn’t ship it. I read non-Percabeth ships, but a lot of people feel a strong need to insist a ship is abusive if they don’t like it.

It’s fine to just not like a ship.

First off lets preface all of this with a warning that I’ll be discussing abuse here so if that’s upsetting skip it.

It got long, like very long (word count is nearly 3k), so it’s all under the Read More, there’s a TLDR at the very bottom.

Now then, what is abuse?

There are two definitions that pop up with a quick google search

Use (something) to bad effect or for a bad purpose; misuse.

Treat (a person or an animal) with cruelty or violence, especially regularly or repeatedly.

If you look up the legal definition (law.cornell) used to define abuse there are more options, but I’m leaving out 2, 3, and 4 cause 3 and 4 def have nothing to do with this and definition 2 is in regards to child abuse.

Abuse, generally: physically, sexually, or mentally injuring a person.

Now if we want to go deeper in lets define physical and mental abuse. I’ll be leaving out sexual as that has no bearing on this particular situation.

Physical abuse is defined by healthyplace.com as

Non-accidental use of force that results in bodily injury, pain, or impairment. This includes, but is not limited to, being slapped, burned, cut, bruised or improperly physically restrained.

Now lets expand on this.

Something that is pointed to specifically is the mentioned intent. “Non-accidental”. It must be purposeful harm.

Now, I will also point out that Physical abuse doesn’t necessarily say the intent needs to be abuse, but as my lawyer parents state it simply needs to be “intent to harm” and it gets labeled abuse. The legal definition (given above) agrees, it is simply that it needs to be purposeful harm. But then we need to define this harm, especially the bodily injury, pain, or impairment.

Bodily injury is defined by Merriam Webster as

any damage to a person's physical condition including pain or illness

Now what is damage?

loss or harm resulting from injury to person, property, or reputation

So then harm is defined as... damage, so the definition I prescribe to (and I asked my lawyer parents to confirm, unfortunately I have no link for that).

Causes pain (pain defined as suffering)

Pain is defined by Merriam Webster as

a localized or generalized unpleasant bodily sensation or complex of sensations that causes mild to severe physical discomfort and emotional distress and typically results from bodily disorder (such as injury or disease)

a basic bodily sensation that is induced by a noxious stimulus, is received by naked nerve endings, is associated with actual or potential tissue damage, is characterized by physical discomfort (such as pricking, throbbing, or aching), and typically leads to evasive action

mental or emotional distress or suffering

Finally impairment is

diminishment or loss of function or ability

(all of the above definitions except harm are pulled from Merriam Webster linked with Bodily Injury)

Okay, so now lets consider it, physical abuse needs to cause damage to someone, it must be purposeful damage though the intent to abuse does not necessarily need to be the intent. So if your actions do not intend physical harm then it is not physical abuse.

So then, do Percy and Annabeth have a physically abusive relationship?

Lets start with the classic one that everyone likes to bring up, the Judo Flip.

First off, do Judo Flips hurt? [sourcing (1) (2) (3)]

They CAN hurt if done with that intent, but if your intent is to not harm and you are trained properly, No Judo should not hurt. Anyone properly trained in Judo should know how to prevent harm. (1, 2)

On top of that, the first thing anyone learning Judo is taught is how to fall.

All judoka learn to fall safely, by rolling and breaking their fall with Ukemi. This breakfall absorbs the impact of the throw. (3)

Percy should have the basics of this down seeing how he was already in matches (mentioned in book one prior him being claimed) in his first summer at camp, after four years he’s definitely got the basics down.

Therefore, the Judo flip did not intend to cause harm, nor did it appear to. Despite that it was on stone, and Annabeth had him pinned, Percy didn’t even show discomfort. He laughed.

On top of that, when Annabeth last saw Percy he had the Curse of Achilles. As far as she was aware, he still had it. A requirement of Physical Abuse is the intent to cause harm, every factor here shows that there was no intent to cause harm.

This scene was not physical abuse, it was just bad writing.

I can think of other scenes, only a few, before they were actually in a relationship. In book three Annabeth punched Percy in the stomach when he didn’t catch her hint that he should ask her to dance

She punched me in the gut. ‘Me, Seaweed Brain.’

‘Oh. Oh, right.’ (TTC, chapter 1, page 8 of book on my copy)

There doesn’t seem to have been any harm done as he doesn’t even mention it hurting, not even a pause, just went “oh yeah her”. So it was likely a light punch, the kind friends do that don’t hurt just catch attention. Annabeth has been trained since she was 7, she should know how to throw a punch without actually causing harm.

If anyone wants to bring up other examples, feel free, I’m not combing the books right now for examples but I will reply to them (preferably in asks so this post doesn’t get super long...)

I cannot think of any examples of Percy hitting/punching Annabeth nor any other kind of physical interaction, if someone wishes to bring one of those up feel free.

Does this mean that I think they should be hitting each other despite the fact that it’s clear there is no intent to harm?

No, I don’t really think they should be hitting each other.

But! An important thing there is their own boundaries, not mine. I would not be up for being hit but I do share friendly punches with my friends, which is similar in intent. It’s simply that they’ve been trained to fight and have to a lot to survive so their boundaries for what is “harmful” are different.

But that’s a whole different issue and a different academic essay :)

I don’t believe there is any physical abuse in Percabeth.

Moving on, Emotional abuse (which Psychological and Verbal added as they all connect).

Emotional abuse is defined by helathyplace.com as

Any act including confinement, isolation, verbal assault, humiliation, intimidation, infantilization, or any other treatment which may diminish the sense of identity, dignity, and self-worth.

It also covers Psychological abuse and verbal abuse. Psychological abuse does not have a definition available on the site I’m using but it does have a description. If you’d like to read the description go (here). I will add a detail of how it works though

Psychological abuse signs and symptoms may start small at first as the abuser "tests the waters" to see what the other person will accept, but before long the psychological abuse builds into something that can be frightening and threatening.

Verbal abuse definition defined by healthyplace.com is

Any language or behavior that seeks to coerce its victim to doubt their perceptions or their abilities and subjugate themselves to the abuser.

So considering that, we note another important factor here, they also have intent involved. “Test the waters” and “seek to coerce” for Psychological and Verbal abuse.

Emotional abuse is different in that it does not specify intent, except every item mentioned is purposeful. If you’re confining someone then you’re doing that on purpose, you cannot easily accidentally do most of that. Those actions carry intent, even if the intent is not abuse.

Now then, is percabeth emotionally abusive?

Once again I’ll start with the big thing people point out, the Judo Flip.

I’ve seen it point out that it could be seen as humiliation.

Annabeth grabbed his wrist and flipped him over her shoulder. He slammed into the stone pavement. Romans cried out. Some surged forward, but Reyna shouted, “Hold! Stand down!”

Annabeth put her knee on Percy’s chest. She pushed her forearm against his throat. She didn’t care what the Romans thought. A white-hot lump of anger expanded in her chest—a tumor of worry and bitterness that she’d been carrying around since last autumn.

“If you ever leave me again,” she said, her eyes stinging, “I swear to all the gods—”

Percy had the nerve to laugh. Suddenly the lump of heated emotions melted inside Annabeth.

“Consider me warned,” Percy said. “I missed you, too.” (MOA, chapter 2, page 19 of my copy)

If you look at the scene itself you’ll see that Annabeth is very emotional right then, she just got her boyfriend back, she’s exhausted from months of worrying, she’s emotionally very strained, and she judo flips him as all her pain just fills her.

A lot of people with anxiety or high stress or similar issues have times when the anxiety doesn’t affect them during the time they’re stressed, but right after the stressors are gone.

It’s clear that’s what happened here, all her feelings that she’d been burying to work just filled her.

And Percy smiles up at her and says he missed her.

It’s clear from her own comment that she didn’t care what the Romans thought (said right after they almost attacked her) that her thoughts were not on how this looked for Percy, but for her. She knew it looked bad for her to attack him.

She wasn’t trying to embarrass or humiliate Percy, she was trying to get all that pain and stress and anger out. I don’t like how it was done, but it did not physically harm him (nor did she expect it to) and it clearly did not humiliate him.

He smiled and said he missed her.

He understood what she was going through, and made it clear he loved her.

I still think it was bad writing, but it’s not humiliation, nor is it emotional abuse.

Another thing I’ve seen pointed out is Annabeth’s nickname for Percy.

Seaweed Brain.

I will start this with a reminder that both of their nicknames for each other were originally meant as insults.

Wise Girl was first used by Clarisse and it clearly upset Annabeth, it is used twice by Clarisse actually.

Once in TLT, when she and Percy first meet, and once in SOM when they’re attacking Charybdis.

Percy in comparison uses Wise Girl twice as well, both in TLT, once when he was mocking her at her coming along on the quest and once when they were saying goodbye. It’s also used once in HOO, in BOO.

Honestly it’s not much a nickname... only used by Percy 3 times in all the (main) books. There are like 3 other cases in all the side stories and MCGA combined.

Annabeth uses seaweed brain a total of 41 times in all the books combined, in PJO it’s used 25 times, 22 by Annabeth, and HOO it’s used outloud 9 times, all by Annabeth. On top of this, while the PJO cases were all outloud, the HOO cases were not, with 2 (making the total 11) used only in Annabeth’s thoughts.

Seaweed brain is used in TLT 6 times, 5 times by Annabeth.

The first time is when Annabeth is joining the quest, then when he says things are going fine so far when they start the quest, then when at the Ride of Love, then when Annabeth calls him her friend, then when they’re saying goodbye.

If you watch the progression of it it’s the same as with Wise Girl, though used more often. It starts as an insult, and then becomes fond and a term for her friend by the end of it.

I don’t particularly want to label every single instance, but a quick overview of all the PJO books is that it’s used by Annabeth in annoyance a total of 4 times, in fondness/exasperation/worry 18 times. Those times of annoyance were all in books 1 and 2, the time of exasperation (1 of the 18) was in book 2.

The vast majority were done out of worry, and the rest when she was being soft.

It’s not meant to diminish his intelligence, nor is intended as an insult beyond book 1 and 1 instance of book 2. It is rarely used because he’s being ignorant either. You can make an argument for the first case in book 3 being done because he wasn’t catching her hint to dance and thus was mocking his inability to catch a hint, but it was mixed with fondness from my read.

Overall the nickname is not intended as an insult anymore, it has become a friendly name for Percy that shows how fond Annabeth is of him. She does not have nicknames for anyone else.

In HOO all the cases were relatively fond, with one that she didn’t say outloud being used when she was cheering Hazel up by telling stories about Percy (ah the benefits of long time friendships, you get to tell all the good stories).

In the end I think that it’s cute that they have a nickname for each other, and though there could be more flattering ones, the intent that Percy understands from it and the intent Annabeth uses it with clearly show that it is meant in fondness and was a gradual change from a name that was meant to poke at him. It’s meaning is is fond and loving and it was only used 3 times prior with any other (negative) intent.

Also friends give each other nicknames, and commonly they are meant to be teasing.

There is one other thing I’ve seen brought up, being Annabeth thinking that she needs to keep Percy on his toes (specifically about Rachel in this case) when they’re in Tartarus.

‘Rachel?’ Percy asked. ‘You mean our Rachel? Oracle of Delphi Rachel?’

‘That’s the one.’ Annabeth suppressed a smile.

Whenever she brought up Rachel’s name, Percy got nervous. At one point, Rachel had been interested in dating Percy. That was ancient history. Rachel and Annabeth were good friends now. But Annabeth didn’t mind making Percy a little uneasy. You had to keep your boyfriend on his toes. (HOH, didn’t bother to check chapter number, page 109 of my copy)

So here we see that Annabeth is “keeping him on his toes” but in context, they’re sending a note to Rachel through the Hermes temple in Tartarus. It was not Annabeth bringing it up to mess with him, it was her smiling at the little moment where he was thrown off about Rachel.

Frankly, in general Annabeth doesn’t do anything like that. She occasionally teases Percy but he always teases back. After the Rachel stuff in book 5 things were chill with all of them. We’ve seen no evidence of Percy being uncomfortable with Rachel being brought up, nor Annabeth thinking that it should be brought up for that purpose.

If anything Annabeth has shown some serious abandonment issues in fearing that Percy would leave her over other girls (she needs some therapy after that mess of a childhood but Khiron apparenlty doesn’t think so).

I see this as a case of bad writing with nothing else supporting it, including the scene it happens in.

Even had it actually been something supported by other instances, in the context she says it in it seems more like teasing over an ex where the break was amicable and everyone is still friends, which isn’t abusive or manipulative.

It’s just that Rick is tasteless.

So is Percabeth emotionally/psychologically/verbally abusive? No.

If someone wishes to bring up other instances shoot me an ask.

So in conclusion,

I do not see how it is abusive. There are elements I do not like, and some parts that in my own relationship I wouldn’t be okay with. But in Percy and Annabeth’s relationship they have clear boundaries, they are both more than capable of stopping the other if they do something that upsets them. They have both shown fondness towards the others actions even if it is something that we don’t approve of in our relationships.

If Percy showed upset at her actions that would be different. But we literally see into his mind and he shows no upset at her words or actions. He is fond, he is understanding, and he responds to each instance of teasing with teasing of his own.

Notably I never see people saying Percy is abusive, only Annabeth.

I get a feel that people ask for flawed characters then crucify them if they’re not flawed in easily likeable ways. Annabeth is not a perfect character, I don’t like everything she does, but she is a realistic character and should not be demonized.

TDLR: Annabeth has never purposefully harmed Percy, and Percy has never purposefully harmed her. Neither have verbally/emotionally/psychological taken actions with the intent of harming the other when in their relationship or since becoming friends. There have been instances of upsetting the other but they talked and it clearly was not meant to hurt the other but because they themselves were hurting

Percabeth is not abusive

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snowgoldwaylon · 4 years ago

Text

I've Got You! - Frank Woods x reader, part two

TW: Blood, strong language, violence, GSW (Gun Shot Wound)

You woke up in a white, bland room. It smelled like sterilized hallways. You knew immediately that it was a hospital because you heard and saw the IVs and bedside full of flowers and stuffed animals with cards.

You don't remember what happened, just a few gunshots and Adler being lifted into the air. You hoped you got Adler out as planned since you didn't remember a single thing from the Operation.

You looked around the room and saw a dark bag sitting in one single chair in a lonely corner, close to your bed. You wondered who's it was, and why. You couldn't place a finger on it......

Your door opened and it caught you off guard. Your head whipped around, and it caused immense pain to shoot through your temples. With a hiss, you opened your eyes and saw two men approach your bed.

"Oh my god, Y/N! You are finally awake!" One said, rushing to you.

It was Adler. And Frank right behind him. Frank called for a nurse and came straight back over to you. You tried sitting up but your heart quite literally skipped a beat. This caused you pain and a large gasp.

You fell straight back down and heaved for air.

"Easy Y/N, just lay back for fucks sake! Where the hell is the nurse??" Frank said with frustration, hitting your call button on the bed.

Adler took his arm and pulled it away.

"Calm down you jackass, one is coming! C'mon, you are freaking Y/N out!" Adler disciplined Frank.

A nurse came in and helped you out before leaving. You finally looked back at the boys with confusion.

"What the hell even happened to me while I was out? Why am I here, and why am I wrapped up like a mummy??" You said in a slight panic.

Frank came to your side, taking your hand. His eyes and look softened. He completely changed around you for some reason. You had this man in a trance.

"Y/N, you got shot, point-blank in the chest by Stitch. It was a mistake, nobody saw how he hid so conveniently up in the ceiling rafters as he waited with a whole team until we were busy. Once you placed Adler onto the board, he jumped down. But you somehow got Doc here to safety." He said, using his other hand to pat Adler.

"That's when he signaled the ambush, and you gave him a run for his money. You both fought hand to hand for at least a couple of minutes until he caught a blind spot for you and took your arm in a painful twist. He ended up breaking it, then he shot you in the chest with 1911.....All of us were being rushed by a whole fuckin' army.....I didn't see everything..." Frank trailed off.

He wiped away a single tear and went on with the shocking story. Did Frank Woods just shed a tear??

"After he shot you, we finally had the enemies thinned out to where we could help. That's when I saw you, face down by his boot, blood pooling quick and your magnum to your right temple. That's when I spear tackled the bastard and beat the living daylights out of him. He is now in lock up at HQ."

Adler smiled down at you and handed you a gorgeous bouquet of red tulips.

"That's right kid, you saved my life. But you put your own on the line, you all did. That's when you should have pulled away. I told all of you not to do dumb shit like that." Adler said.

Suddenly, all the memories came flooding back for you. The gunshot, the fight, the very caring and concerned Frank carrying you...

"So, the mission was a success. Adler, how the hell are you even able to stand right now? You were nearly dead when we found you!" You exclaimed.

He chuckled and ashed his cigarette.

"Don't know kid, I just know I'm here thanks to you. So that's why I'm here, to do this." He said, pulling something from his pocket.

Frank smiled, and lightly squeezed your hand. He looked joyed and excited!

Adler started to read from a white paper, which played in a black frame with gold edging.

"On June 15th, 1985, the brave and diligent Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N set a plan in motion for the recovery of an MIA operative and completed op. After receiving serious injury, Y/L/N will receive the highest-ranking officer and assume leadership position for sacrifice, and hard work." He handed you the frame, and you were completely in shock.

Frank sobbed quietly. He was so proud.

Adler handed you a black box that had a beautiful shiny, gold pendant inside. You gasped upon seeing the description.

"Let it be known from this day forward, you are officially in charge. Welcome to the CIA, officer Y/L/N." He said, pinning the pendant to a beautiful set of dress blues he pulled out.

You cried and tried to give back the award. There was no way this was yours...

"Adler, I can't take this. Please take it." You said, but he refused.

"No way kid, you deserve it. Just keep it safe until you recover and rejoin the Safehouse crew!" He said.

Adler's radio came on, and he stepped out. You turned to look towards Frank, your tears now flowing freely.

"I want everyone to have the credit, all of you not just me Frank! It's not fair. I wasn't the only one there to rescue him fr-" You were going to finish, but you were cut off with a soft pair of lips on yours.

The whole world froze for you at that moment. Frank puller back with a small pant. He smiled and stroked your hair.

That was all you Y/N. You have the brains and strength. We just have the strength." He said with a laugh.

You laughed as well and pulled him close.

He took the time to whisper very softly to you, holding you closer than ever.

"I told you I had you. And I do, I always will."

#black ops cold war #cold war #frank woods #frank woods x reader #russell adler #vikhor stitch kuzmin #one shot #helen park

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transgenderknothead · 3 years ago

Text

I know I've been gone for like ever, but I was working on something super cool, so without further adieu... I Want the Truth a creepy pasta fanfiction just under 2k words!

Truth is undefinable, yes it has a definition, not lying, but how do you determine what’s a lie and what isn’t? It’s difficult, especially when you get different answers from the same person. My mother always tells me I have no memory due to various different accidents. First she said car crash, then she said nearly drowned, then it was kidnapped, her current story is that I had been in a coma for most of my life due to a birth defect. When I ask why her story keeps changing she says she isn’t quite sure what is causing my memory loss, as all of those things happened. My friends and I were hanging out at the old children’s mental hospital, it had burned down about four years ago and ever since my friends and I would go and try to figure out why and how it had burned. So far we had found nothing, nothing that was in one piece anyway, we had found three shattered skull fragments and a lot of broken wood. We’d searched all over the building, except for one room, which we could never open. It was a metal door, that when we tried using axes, hatchets, and even random pieces of wood nearby, they fell apart before even reaching it. We have no idea what’s on the other side, but it feels important, and because my friends are stubborn, we will never stop trying to open it or get inside. “Again!” Toby, my boyfriend, yelled when the head of his metal axe fell off when it made contact with the door. “At least this time we hit it,” I rubbed his shoulder as he slumped, “and it looks like you even dented it.” “If his noodle arms dented it, imagine what I could’ve done,” his athletic twin brother, Evan, flexed. “I don’t know, why don’t ya punch it, see what happens,” Toby argued. “Would you two knock it off,” their 14 year old little sister Jessy rolled her eyes, “what did Mom and Dad say about you arguing all the time?” Toby rolled his eyes, a tiny smile appearing when we made eye contact. “We should head back,” I piped up a little. Back at the house Toby and I went into his room, separated from his twin by a curtain, the tall boy flopping onto his bed. “Are you okay?” I rubbed his back. “Something about that room just,” he rolled over, pulling me with him, “I don’t know, it makes no sense.” “What is it?” “It gives me a weird gut feeling,” he scratched my back lightly, “like something bad is behind it.” I had woken up in the middle of the night, bolting up in bed next to Toby. It was always the same nightmare. I’m sitting in a pitch black room, a fuzzy figure of a purple, pink, blue, and yellow jester with a hammer sitting in front of me. It seemed like it was trying to communicate with me, but I couldn’t hear, or even see, much of it. The next morning we all headed over to the mental hospital again. Toby, having hurt his hand playing guitar last night, was going to let me try opening the door with his brand new axe. So here we stood, axe held over my head, everyone else standing back. When I swung the door flew open and the axe hit the floor instead. “Um, to whichever deity is out there, please help,” Jessy whimpered. I walked in, it looked as though this room had the worst of it. An entire wall caved in, shattered glass everywhere, all of the furniture destroyed. The walls that were left standing had what was very obviously scratch marks from whatever child was in here. “Holy,” I whispered, spinning around to look at the room. I kept looking around until I saw the bed in the corner, it was rusted and broken to no end, but that isn’t what caught my attention. It was the seemingly untouched blue bunny stuffed animal holding a very broken, but unburned, Jack-in-the-Box. I reached for it instinctively, but Toby grabbed my wrist. “Don’t,” he whispered. “I just want to know,” I grabbed the toys, inspecting them, before dropping them and gasping. I slowly picked them back up, and cradled the bunny, who was now missing an eye. “What is it?” Evan stood in the doorway, very obviously too scared to enter the room fully. “My name,” I whispered, just loud enough

to hear, “it’s on both of these.” I twisted the toys to show the red stitched name on the bunny and the carved name on the box. “Oh god,” Jessy whispered. I clutched the toys to my chest and started running back. “WAIT!” Toby called. “I have to know, I need to know the truth about my memory, and the truth about these!” I yelled when he caught up to me, he let go and let me run. “Whoa, slow down kid, where’s the fire,” my mom jokes. “What’s this,” I held up the toys and her face went pale, “don’t even think about lying, I want the truth this time.” “They were a couple of toys your childhood friend’s gave you before they left,” she replied. “Okay, new question,” I stood up straighter, “why were they in the mental hospital?” She gasped and dropped her tea cup. She smiled, looking at me, and a tear rolled down her cheek. “Mom, why can’t I remember anything? Don’t give me a story like you do every time.” “You still believed in imaginary friends,” she cried, “you were twelve, that’s not normal for a 12 year old kid! I had to do something to make you realize they were fake!” “So putting me in a hospital and drugging me into forgetting was your grand solution?” I yelled. “You don’t understand,” she started. “You’re right, I don’t understand, but what I do understand is that I’m not the type of person to believe something I haven’t seen, or hasn’t been proved to me,” I crossed my arms, knowing what I had to do. “Don’t do anything stupid,” my boyfriend spoke when they finally caught up. “I have to know,” I spoke before turning around, taking the toys with me, and running into the woods. I ran for a long time, a couple of memories coming back to me. Playing with a tall stuffed clown, a tall red headed man with long hair and wearing a feathery jacket handing me the blue bunny, setting the fire in the hospital. Eventually, I ran up to a familiar metal gate that led to a run down carnival. I opened the gate and it creaked. My heart was pounding in my chest as I clutched the bunny tighter to my chest, the Jack-in-the-Box in my hoodie pocket. I heard a twig snap by the merry go round, causing me to run into the hall of mirrors. I fell against a wall trying to stop myself from crying. “Oh Gumdrop,” a singsong voice came from the entrance. I hid farther into the dark corner, “you don’t need to hide, we’re friends!” I watched the black and white clown look around the room, his hands on his hips. His eyes meet mine, he smiles wider and gets closer. “Jack!” A voice laughed from behind him, the jester from my dreams stepped forward. “It’s her!” Jack pointed, and the jester looked my way. “I’ve been tryna reach ya,” he pulled me out of the dark, “but ya never heard me!” “I’m sorry,” I whimpered, his grip wasn’t tight, but I could tell neither of them were human. “Don’t be sorry! It aint your fault!” The jester giggled, pulling me out of the hall of mirrors and into the big tent, where three more inhuman entities were talking and working. One was a shorter man with black hair, a sketch pad, blue jacket, and a white mask with a red smile sitting next to him. Next to him was a more average height man with dark grey skiing, all black clothes, golden eyes, and what looked like a puppet hanging from golden strands of light coming from his fingers. Across from him was a very tall white haired man dressed like a magician and holding a wand. “There you are,” the man with the sketch book said. “We’ve been waiting for you to come back,” the grey man next to him continued. “She doesn’t remember us,” the magician looked at me. “I’m sorry,” I murmured. “Don’t apologize!” The jester rolled his eyes, “we’ll just reintroduce you!” “I’m Laughing Jack!” Jack spoke, “you used to call me L.J. for short!” “This is Puppeteer, who you called Pup,” the man with the sketchbook pointed at the man with the puppet. “This is Helen,” Puppeteer smiled, pointing at the one with the sketchbook. “I’m Papa El De Grande,”

the magician spoke, “you always called me Mr. Magic.” “I’m Candy Pop!” the jester tickled my sides, “you called me Pop.” “Where’s Jason?” L.J. looked around. “His workshop, fixing Mr. Bun Bun,” Puppeteer said, “it’d be best if she went alone.” Puppeteer took me over to a red and white tent near the big one. He told me to just go in, and that he’s never been mad when I was around because he never wanted to scare me away. “Jason?” I poked my head in, and was greeted by a big stuffed purple worm covered in patches. “Glutton!” A voice yelled from farther into the tent, “get over here!” I followed as the worm snaked towards a redhead man with golden eyes, putting an eye on the rabbit that I had come here with. “Jason?” He looked up at the calling of his name, smiling gently when he saw it was me. “It’s been a long time, Dolly,” he handed me the bunny, standing up he towered over me, “come on, let’s go for a walk.” During the walk he answered all of my questions that my mother refused to answer. He caught me up on all of the missing details of the past. And eventually led me back to the front gate. “It’s nearly time for you to get home,” pat my head. “Remember to just wind up the jack in the box when you want to see me!” Jack waved. “I’ll visit ya in your dreams again tonight, maybe now you’ll be able to hear me!” Candy Pop laughed. “Come back tomorrow,” Helen waved from his seat on the stairs of the merry-go-round. “Oh my god,” a voice came from behind me, my mother had her hand over her mouth as she glanced over the people I had spent my childhood with. “I was right, Mom,” I whispered. “Jason?” She whispered the name of the man who was trying to get away. “Yes?” He turned around slowly to look at my mother. “Oh my god,” she whispered, “Jason Meyers.” I looked at my mother at the use of our last name. Jason lowered his head. “Mom?” “You have been spending time with the spirit of your father, and I took that away,” her hand went over her heart, “oh, I am so sorry dear.” “Wait, Mom I didn’t even know,” I stuttered. “I needed to protect you from the things you weren’t ready to know,” he ushered us out, “now come back tomorrow, it’s getting late.” “We have to take your boyfriend to meet them tomorrow,” my mother spoke, causing Jason to look up, his eyes suddenly glowing green and his hair slowly turning white. “Okay,” Jack clapped his hands, his smile gone, “I think it’s time for bed.”

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta #jason the toymaker #Jason the toymaker x reader #jason the toymaker x reader #candy pop #laughing jack #puppeteer #Helen Otis #Bloody painter

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