#the prompts are not mine and I couldn't find the source

[wrapanxiety]

Uka uka : Are you.. blushing?

Cortex: What, no!

Uka uka : Did I get the ever-stoic, hardcore, total badass, great

Neo cortex to blush?

Cortex: No!... It's. It's the cold.

Uka uka: Huh. It's the cold.

And not that I told you "your face is freaking adorable and I bet the rest of you is too?"

Cortex: *blushing harder*

*voice cracks* N-no.

Aku aku: I can fit the whole world in my hands.

N brio: No, that's impossible.

Aku aku: *Cups N brio's face*

N brio: *Blushes furiously*

N tropy: As far as I'm concerned, I don't blush.

N gin: Oh really? What if I do this?

N gin:*kisses them on the cheek*

N tropy: Nope

N gin:*kisses on the other one*

N tropy: Nada

N gin:*hugs them*

N tropy: Goose eggs

N gin: *kisses them hard on the lips*

N tropy: Nothing

N gin: Well, *sighs* I guess I got nothing too. *walks out the room*

N tropy: …*turns read as a tomato*

[ellethespaceunicorn]

You're Mine

Title: You’re Mine

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Dark!Daddy!Geralt x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1.8K

Prompts: Geralt of Rivia + Female Reader + Daddy Kink + “Can you feel how much I want you?” + Darkfic, requested by @chibijusstuff

Summary: After coming back from a hunt, you find out that Geralt isn’t himself.

Warnings: Daddy Kink, pet names for Reader (little one, my sweet), Darkfic, dark!Geralt, drugged!Geralt, choking, biting, scratching, manipulation, Geralt rips Readers underwear off, non-con, unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie, mention of bodily fluids, memory lapse, bathtime as aftercare, cuddling, possessiveness, dead dove: do not eat

A/N: Unbeta'd, because I was impatient about posting this. All mistakes are mine.

Dividers by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

Sweet Treats Event 2024 Masterlist

My Masterlist

You’ve been watching him for hours from your spot in a nearby chair as he kneels in front of the fire. The silver wolf's face on his medallion shines brightly from the flickering embers, suspended from his chest. The remnants of the potion in his system show themselves in deep, black cracking lines on his ashen skin that radiate from his closed eyes. He has never taken this long to shake off the effects of any of the mixtures he carries in his pack, and your concern is beginning to grow.

He barely acknowledged you when he came home in the early morning hours. He placed his swords in their spot by the door, shed his armor, and took his place in front of the fire to warm himself and meditate. The longer he remains in that spot, the more you wring your hands with concern.

You were but a commoner; you hadn’t much knowledge of the Witcher lifestyle before meeting Geralt in that tavern. And even now, Geralt wasn’t the most forthcoming with things he deemed ‘unnecessary for you to concern yourself with’, as he put it. You hadn’t the faintest idea of what was in his potions, let alone how to make them.

You only knew that he was usually back to himself by now.

Another thing you noticed was that his scent had changed. He tended to keep the smell of whatever beast or monster he had slain. But all you could smell were flowers, and more specifically, the aroma of tuberose.

Heady and exotic, the scent of tuberose is one you are accustomed to. Your mother would use tuberose oil as a perfume, saying it would lure in men with its sweet honey and warm spice combination. Your poor father had died years prior, and your mother barely waited for the dirt in his grave to settle before she was out with other men. But that’s a story for a different day.

Even though the oil performed just as she promised, you couldn't quite grasp why she never revealed the source of that unique blend to you. Of course, you called it magic, but she would always shake her head and say there was no way it was magical. She claimed it was a gift from an elderly beggar woman to whom she had once given a handful of orens. You knew well enough not to push any further, but that doesn’t mean you forgot that story.

Or that smell.

You were so in your thoughts that you almost missed Geralt’s grumbling. Your eyes returned to his face, and this time, his eyes looked at you. Gone was the golden yellow iris you had come to love, only to be replaced with full, black eyes. Black, like you never saw black. Nothingness.

Rising from the floor, he bares his teeth and growls lowly. You stand up from your chair and raise your hands in front of you.

“Geralt?” You attempt, moving backward when he takes a step forward. “Daddy...” you trail off as he smiles at you, a devilish grin showing his sharp canines.

“My sweet little one. Don’t you look delectable?” Geralt coos, crowding into your space as you are backed into the wall behind you.

His hands rest on either side of your head on the wall while he noses at your neck, no doubt smelling the fear-induced arousal that is shooting through your entire body.

“Daddy? Why don’t we take it slow? You’re not yourself yet-”

His hand flies to your throat, tightening at the sides. “You wish to refuse me that which is rightfully mine?”

“Geralt, I-”

“Ah, ah. Try again, little one,” he cautions, his grip on your neck ever sure.

“Daddy, I’m scared,” you breathe, tears falling from your eyes.

“I know. I can smell it on you,” he confesses, leaning back in to sniff under your jawline. He stoops to pick you up and brings you to the bed, lying his body on top of yours. He doesn’t waste time in rucking your dress up and pressing his clothed sex against your own. “Can you feel how much I want you?”

His voice, so delicate as he speaks to you, sounds like your Geralt. But those eyes, the way he takes without asking, and his smell only serve to repel you. It feels like your partner has been swapped out for a harsher, more unkind version of who he used to be.

His hand reaches between the two of you and rips away your undergarments before unbuttoning his pants so his thick and ready length can fall free. As soon as his shaft is uninhibited from its confines, he is pushing and prodding at your entrance.

Without preparation or care, he enters you swiftly. You aren’t given a second to adjust to his girth before he withdraws his cock and forces himself back inside you. By the third thrust, you are crying and begging him to stop. Your hands are balled into fists as you pound on his chest, his shoulders, anywhere you can land a blow.

He only laughs at your feeble attempts to thwart his actions. He also teases you when your body eventually betrays you.

“Look at you, being torn apart from the inside out, and your sloppy little cunt can’t get enough of it. Always so soft and warm for me. Stop fighting and take it, little one,” he soothes. His warm, rich voice invades your ears, and you cease efforts to push him away from you.

Once he has you malleable and compliant, he focuses on chasing his release. Unconcerned with your pleasure, he fists one hand in the sheets of your bed while the other tangles in your hair to expose your neck. Biting and sucking at your skin until blood is brought to the surface, he takes pride in marking you.

Soon, your neck and chest are littered with bite marks and bruises. You can feel every welt as he takes his time poking them as he drives into you over and over. His first orgasm is so intense that he lets out a feral growl, slowing down for a bit before it’s evident that he isn’t done in the slightest.

Realizing your fate, you begin to hyperventilate. Your chest is heaving as you inhale and exhale shallowly; you feel as though your heart could beat out of your chest. But only momentarily as Geralt leans down to speak into your ear.

“You’ve never looked lovelier than you do tonight. I can smell your fear; I can taste your panic. Just have to hold out a little longer for me, my sweet,” he sighs, nosing at your neck.

By now, you can feel nothing but pain from the bites, the scratches, and his relentless pounding into your battered and bruised heat. The stuttering of his hips is a gift, alerting you to his impending climax. You’d already given up on experiencing your peak.

“So close. I can feel it coming, little one,” he whispers, his voice strained and gruff as he forces his eyes shut. He thrusts into you one last time, his hips flush with yours as his cock paints your insides. Once he stops spasming, he lets out a heavy breath and opens his eyes.

You watch as he comes back to himself, the black veins disappearing from his face and his eyes returning to their golden hue. Frozen where you are, you observe the realization on Geralt’s face as he looks down at your marred skin and wet eyes.

As he relaxes just enough to pull away from your body, he quickly adjusts himself back into his pants and settles down onto his knees. He’s unsure of what to say; what can he say that would make this situation any easier? His eyes are drawn to where his semen drips from you.

“Daddy? Are you back?” you ask, your hands pushing your dress down over yourself as you sit up.

The sound of your tiny voice washes over him like a cold shower. He finally looks back at you, and a single tear falls from his left eye. As if a switch were flipped, Geralt appears smaller than before. He shrinks into himself, hunching his shoulders.

“I did this to you?” he guesses, nodding to the angry marks on your skin.

“Geralt, I think you were poisoned. What’s the last thing you remember?” you question, raising your hands to show him you mean no harm.

“The wyvern nest. There were druids; they surrounded me. I felt pain in my neck and then smelled flowers before everything went black. Next thing I know, I’m in bed with you,” he replies.

“You weren’t yourself, Geralt. This wasn’t you,” you insist, feeling the urge to comfort him.

“Poisoned or possessed, I am the reason you’re hurt right now. I could have killed you if I hadn’t come back to myself,” he frets, holding up a hand when you try to move closer to him.

“I’ve already forgiven you, if only you would forgive yourself,” you plead, trying to hide your distress.

“You should have a bath. Let me draw it for you,” he suggests, leaving you on the bed before you can say anything in response.

After he fills the wooden bath with enough water, he uses Igni to warm the water to your liking. He helps you into the water, washing your body and hair when you ask him to stay with you. When you are done, he helps dry your skin. You don’t exchange many words, and neither of you knows how to start a conversation.

After you are dressed in a nightgown, you climb into bed and pull Geralt in behind you. He reluctantly lays next to you, afraid that he will hurt you again somehow. Turning onto your side, you face away from him. You sniff, holding back tears and the lump in your throat.

Before you could clear your throat, Geralt was pulling you into his chest. His strong arms wrap around you, and he inhales your scent. While he can still smell the faint echo of fear on you, the most prevalent fragrance is overwhelming love.

You were pushing down your fear with all your might and thinking only of good moments of Geralt. Images of a smile pulling at his lips, your hands in his, and a stolen kiss cloud your vision.

You snuggle into his embrace, his body heat keeping you warm. He peppers kisses over your hickeys on your neck, lulling you to sleep. But just before you can give in to the draw of slumber, you hear his voice in your ear.

“I wouldn’t get too comfortable,” he whispers, laughing lowly. “You’re mine, little one. And I won’t let you escape.” His hand goes to your mouth, and you know your night is far from over.

A/N: I really enjoyed writing this story. It took so long to write, but I am happy with what I have created here. Also, I feel like there are very few dark!Geralt or Daddy!Geralt stories out there. Is it because we don’t like these or it’s just too taboo? Let me know, cuz I could write more dark versions of this man.

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

first off, happy happy birthday to you!!!! Thank you for spoiling us on your birthday.

That being said, my heart is feeling angsty so I wanna request the prompt "Stop pretending that you care! We both know you don't." for a fem reader x Kid (NSFW)!

Again, happy birthday lovely! :3

Hello! @limitlesstildil thank you sooo much for your birthday wishes and for your awesome prompt! Now, I've taken some liberties with it, but I do hope you don't mind! It's now a three part fic of Highlander!Kid, sharing the spotlight with another prompt (to be seen in the last chapter). The NSFW part was pushed forward too, okay? I hope this is still okay! Thank you so much for participating! ❤️

Source for Pic

Mine to Protect

Word Count: 4969

Tags for the whole story: Highlander!Kid; Fem!Reader; Alternate Universe - Scotland 13th century; Gore; Blood; Violence; Death; Mild Angst; Fluff; Nudity; Cursing; Sexual Tension; Explicit Sexual Content; Protective!Kid; Possessive!Kid; Soft!Kid; Feral!Kid; Jealous!Kid; Happy Ending; Sort of Enemies to Lovers; Teasing; Banter; NSFW; MDNI; Mature Audiences;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: Your father and his allied clans are at war, and you're a liability. When you're assigned a guard to protect you - against your will - you do everything in your power to infuriate him. The problem is that he can be more infuriating than you, as you're about to find out.

Notes: Okay... it's finally here! I coudn't hold out any longer. It turned out to be 16k words, so I've divided it in three (not equal parts because the splitting would be weird, obviously). I edited the first part and plan on editing the rest soon. I will have the entire fic out by the end of the week! Gosh... I'm very proud of this one, I do hope you enjoy, let me know!

Part 1 of 3

|Masterlist| | |Part 2| | |Part 3|

“I don't need a guard!” Your angered cry echoes down the halls of the keep, but the stationed guards at the entrance barely even flinch at your outburst since it’s a regular occurrence. 

You have been at odds with your father, the laird, since early morning and, as night approaches fast, he’s tired of arguing with you. But no matter how much you argue like a wild thing, plead as if he were a deity or present your arguments politely as a lady, he doesn’t budge.

“You need a guard!” Your father says with a firm growl of your name. “We are at war and you're an easy target, daughter!” You scoff, outraged at the insinuation. You might be a lady, but you know how to defend yourself and you’re a feisty creature. “I don't want to hear any more of what you have to say! Out with you! You'll meet your guard later.”

With a screech so loud it could make a banshee blush in embarrassment, you leave the chamber, stamping your feet like a bratty child, feeling much like one since, apparently, you need nannying. And, well, if you’re to be nannied like a baby, you might as well act like one, while you still can.

Passing by the kitchen, you grab a hemp sack and fill it with anything you can get your hands on: bread, fruit, salted meat and grains. It weighs like hell but you couldn't care less. You have a point to prove. 

You don’t need a guard. You can handle yourself.

Night falls quickly and you use the waning light of the sickle moon to guide your steps, the same ones you’ve taken since you were a child. The only difference is that now you’re facing wartime and the streets aren’t as safe as they used to be.

But the people need you and you won’t sit idly by while children starve.

-*-

He was supposed to introduce himself to you as soon as he arrived at the keep, but Kid likes to observe first, so he stuck to the shadows. Despite being big, bulky and muscular, he can move like one. When Kid spots you leaving the keep just as the moon appears in the sky, he realises you're going to be trouble. 

Kid’s sick and tired of being a nursemaid to stuck-up, entitled ladies who think they alone rule the world. Yet, here he is again, his body too broken to be a proper warrior, but not broken enough to be able to retire peacefully. 

With a heavy sigh and a curse, Kid follows you into town, all the while realising just how reckless you’re being with your actions. Your father hired him because of the war, which means nowhere is safe. Especially after nightfall. Especially if you’re a noble lady.

But you don’t seem to care.

He follows you around town while you knock on doors, delivering food and even some jewellery. He hasn’t even spoken to you and your actions are already intriguing him. He’s never met a noble lady who would willingly part with jewels, let alone give them to townspeople. 

Yet, he doesn’t let that cloud his judgement. You think you’re being inconspicuous as you parade around town wearing your expensive velvet cape, with an air about you that clearly states you’re regal. No town girl would have such perfectly braided hair, and fair skin, poised grace, and natural beauty, as well as an elegance to your movements. You’re a dead giveaway for who you are.

And that’s dangerous in these streets.

Tutting silently, Kid watches as you traverse a dark alleyway and, immediately, a group of brigands follows you, their eyes already glinting with greed and something else. Kid approaches, ready to intervene as he’s being paid to do. What he doesn’t expect, however, is the way you pull out two daggers from your thighs and start fending them off.

A grin pulls at the corner of his mouth as he realises you aren’t as defenceless as he thought you to be.

Slicing your way through the brigands, you manage to cut one on the arm and another across his torso, which only makes them more enraged, but Kid nods approvingly from the shadows. There’s more to you than just a pretty face. 

Then you make a mistake. You lose sight of the largest man in the group and he gets behind you, locking your arms and incapacitating you immediately. With a grunt, Kid pushes himself off the wall he was leaning on and grips his Lochaber axe with his good arm. Time to intervene.

It takes only the blink of an eye for him to reach you. His weak arm slams a punch to the jugular of the man pinning you, causing him to let go and fall to his knees, gasping for air. Pivoting, Kid slices another brigand with a swing of his long axe, his guts splashing to the floor with a sickening sound as the man screams himself into shock. With a thrust of the weapon, Kid immediately kills the remaining brigand by piercing his neck. 

He didn’t even break a sweat. 

“I’m not scared of you!” You say, breathing hard, pants escaping your parted lips and Kid can clearly see your fists trembling as you grip the handle of your blade. You mistook him for another brigand. Smirking, Kid takes one step forward and you gasp. “Don’t come any closer.” Your voice is firmer now, a hint of aggression in your words. Good. 

He still takes another step, and with a swing of the axe, he lunges. You shriek and tense up but open your eyes as soon as you hear another sickening slice and the unmistakable gargle of a man drowning in his own blood. Kid sliced the neck of the brigand who had pinned you at the beginning of the skirmish and was getting ready to run away.

“I said back away!” You lunge, place your foot wrong and throw your weight like an amateur. Kid scoffs and easily disarms you, raising an eyebrow as if asking if that’s all you’ve got. You huff and puff like a wild beast and lunge empty-handed this time, landing a punch on his chest which he barely feels. He chuckles again and you seethe, swinging again, trying to hit his jaw, but this time he stops your mid-air, twisting your body and pinning your arm behind your back.

“Yer swingin’ like ye’ve never thrown a proper punch, lass.”

-*-

You blush from the tips of your ears to your flaming cheeks as the man twists your arm further, making you wince. Who is he? He easily took down the brigands who attacked you, but he doesn’t look like a common thief. He moves like a warrior, even though his left arm seems slower and heavier. 

“Let me go!” You hiss, feeling his taut muscles press against your back.

“Ye did alright with the daggers, but there’s a lot to be said about yer footwork. Also…” His large, calloused hand reaches out as he pulls the hood of your cloak down, his fingers brushing against the skin of your neck. “If yer gonna walk the streets of a war-torn town at night, ya better do it dressin’ like a commoner, no’ a noble, aye, lass?”

The nerve!

“Who are you, trying to tell me what to do? Let me go, right now!” He twists your arm more, and your hiss turns into a groan, but you refuse to scream in pain. You’re not going to give him that satisfaction, though it almost feels like your arm is about to fall out of its socket. 

“Who am I?” He chuckles. “That’s rich. I’m the one who just saved yer spoiled ass from gettin’ robbed. Or worse, lassie.”

You lower yourself, sensing a slight give in your arm as he loosens his grip, and elbow him hard in the stomach as you manage to break free from his grasp, hearing him grunt slightly. “I didn’t ask for your help, you brute.” You take two steps back, swiftly scanning the floor, hoping to find your fallen dagger. Since you can’t locate it, you focus back on the enemy, and your eyes widen as you finally take a good look.

He’s huge. Tall, bulky and built like a warrior, full of scars. His eyes and his hair are what make your breath catch in your throat: they’re fiery red. 

“Ye did no’, but ye sure as hell needed it.” He grins and takes another step forward, just to see you falter. “I’m no’ gonna harm ya, lass. I’m yer new guard. Yer da hired me.” He picks up the dagger you’ve been looking for but missed and hands it to you, handle first, along with the one he took. “Eustass Kid, at yer service.” 

By the resigned sound of his voice, he’d much rather be anywhere else but here. You snatch the daggers from his hands with a scowl. You’d much rather he be anywhere else as well but, alas, here you both are. 

“I don’t need a guard.” You grimace as you manoeuvre around the dead bodies, your stomach already used to the stench of blood by now, walk around Kid, and out of the alley, not even bothering to see if he’s following you. 

But of course he is. How is he so silent when he’s built like an Angus?

“Ya sure about that, lass?” His voice is clipped and dripping with sarcasm which just makes you grit your teeth as you quicken your pace. “Seemed like ya needed one back there, nae?”

“I had it covered!” You snap back, hands balled into fists as you stomp your way back into the keep. 

“Aye, I saw. Maybe I should’ve let ya finish, then. Were ye gonna use yer witty words on them? Pray they let ya go just because ya have a sharp tongue?” He scoffs and you stop abruptly, pivoting with a finger in the air, your eyebrow raised high.

“I don’t appreciate the mockery, you don’t even know me.”

He leans down, his face inches from yours with that infuriating grin on his lips. “Aye, I know ya well enough tae paint a pretty picture, lass. Stubborn, reckless, proud.” His hand rises and he stabs a finger against your forehead, pushing you back with just the strength of that one digit. “Prancin’ around a war-torn town in fancy clothes, screamin’ yer noble and ready tae be robbed… aye, real smart, lass!”

You swat his hand away with the swing of your arm, growling as your temper flares. “You don’t know shit!”

“Ohhh.” He laughs, this time, a hearty laugh that sends a tingle down your spine. “Witty and foul-mouthed? What cannae that tongue do?”

“What am I supposed to do, then? Behave like a proper lady and stay in my keep, filling my belly while my people die of starvation? I don’t think so.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you raise your chin high, defying the infuriating man to say something else. 

“No’ what I’m sayin’, lass. But at least have some sense about it.” The grin fades and his voice hardens as he becomes serious. “There’s a war ragin’ and the street’s nae place for a noble woman. And there’s a difference between bravery and stupidity. Guess which one yer tippin’ on, right now?”

Is he serious? 

You don’t even grace that remark with a proper answer. There’s no use fighting with this man. You told your father you didn’t need a guard and he went and got you the most infuriating one of the lot!

Just my luck.

-*-

You’re so pissed that  you have a shadow following you everywhere, that you don’t leave your room for the next three days, hoping he gets bored and just leaves. 

He doesn’t.

On the fourth day you’re the one who’s bored so as the sun rises, so do you. You take your breakfast in peace, your guard nowhere to be seen because you’re in the keep where it’s safe. You can almost feel him as you walk around your own home. It’s a prickling at your nape, a sensation that makes you want to caress your neck. It tingles.

Days pass and you avoid making conversation with him at all costs. You keep running away from him, trying to evade his ever-present shadow, but you fail every time. More than once you think you finally did it, only to find him leaning against a wall –trademark, infuriating smirk in place– or for him to appear whenever you're about to be robbed. 

That is also why you now avoid going into town delivering food. The increase in attacks gives your guard the satisfaction of saving you and it only infuriates you. He shadows you everywhere, always wearing that smug smirk or his infinitely bored expression. He’s insufferable. 

The morning breaks like many others but you’re so frustrated you need to vent. So you pick up a sword and decide to take your anger out on the dummies in the courtyard. The sword feels heavy in your hands since you’re more used to daggers, but the recent attacks got you thinking that perhaps the gruff guard made a valid point. It’s wartime. Two measly daggers aren’t gonna save you. The sword might.

You start swinging, hitting the dummy but not making real damage, and then you sense him watching you. That damn prickling again, it’s like a pressing need at your nape. You let out a growl paired with a curse, and a bit of straw flies out of the dummy as you strike it again. 

“Ya swing that sword like yer holdin’ a broom.” You stop, take a deep breath and don’t turn around, going for the dummy again and trying your best to ignore the annoying prick. “Yer form’s all wrong.” He continues and so do you. Whack, whack. “That’s a good way tae get killed, lass.”

Pivoting around to face him, jaw clenched and knuckles white from gripping the sword, you show him your best leave me the fuck alone look. “If you have nothing useful to say, then stay quiet!”

“Feisty.” He replies with a chuckle and you grunt in exasperation. 

You give him a few more moments of your time, eyebrows raised in defiance as you wait for more remarks, but he raises his hands in the air and you turn your back to him, continuing your dummy slaughter. 

It doesn’t take long for him to speak again. “Yer still holdin’ it wrong. Yer gonna hurt yerself first before ye hurt someone else.” You sense him approaching but don’t turn. “But, aye, let’s just be stubborn as a mule, that also works.”

Your head whips back so fast you’re certain you pulled a muscle. “Are you calling me a mule?”

“Just sayin’ yer as stubborn as one.” He takes another step, his head leaning to the side as he observes you and you feel yourself flush under his gaze. “Yer too stiff, relax yer grip on the handle.”

“I didn’t ask for your advice.” You bite back, venom in your voice and fire in your eyes.

“Lucky ye, here I am offerin’ it just the same.”

“Screw you.” You mutter but still relax your grip on the handle as he says.

“Maybe later.” He grins as you scoff, then invades your space, his hands pushing your shoulders down, the touch sending a shock through your system. “I said relax, no’ stiffen more, lass.”

You shoot him a sideways glance but still do as he says, relaxing your shoulders and your hands. 

Then he nudges your feet with his own, spreading your legs into a wider stance. “Open yer legs wider for me lass, will ye? Now try again.” You flush crimson at the insinuation but still do as he says, though you keep grumbling. When you swing though, the hit actually cuts through the dummy and you gasp. “See? Yer actually capable.” You grin, a small smug smile curving your lips. “It’s no’ that yer a good student, I’m just a great teacher.”

And there goes your good mood.

“Insufferable.” You bite back.

“That too. But damn good.”

You stop your swing mid-air and turn to him, lifting your blade to his chest. “You know, maybe I should stop practising on dummies and start practising on you.” The smirk you give him is devious. 

“Ye cannae take me, lass.”

Glaring at him through lowered lashes, you raise your chin. “Try me.”

His eyes darken and the tingling sensation at your nape intensifies tenfold. You see him tense up but you don’t wait to see what he does next. You lunge forward, sword raised, relaxed grip and a wide stance –like he taught you just now– and he easily swings out of the way. 

With a frustrated grunt, you pivot to swing your sword to the left, where he dodged, and he evades you again, a small smirk tugging the corners of his lips. You suck a deep breath through your nose before letting it out slowly through your mouth, centering yourself. Then you swing again, leg planted firmly on the ground for support.

Kid hits your elbow from below, twisting your arm and disarms you with a quick flick of his hand –the sword clatters to the floor– then, in a second he has you in his grip, your back flushed against his chest, one of his hands at your throat and his other arm pinning you against him, rendering you immobile. 

Damn.

He’s intoxicating. His scent lingers everywhere and the warmth of his body against yours crackles and burns. 

“Yer easy.” He whispers against your ear and it’s a caress that travels down your neck, through your nipples and into your throbbing core. Fuck.

“Let me go.” Lacing your voice with authority doesn’t get you far, as your words fall empty and shaky. 

“Make me.” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, sending goosebumps down your neck. “Yer no’ as tough as you think, lass.” He’s well aware of the effect he’s having on your traitorous body, and he’s using it.

Two can play that game.

You turn your head to the side and tilt your chin up, your movements slightly constricted by the hand on your throat, and brush your lips against the exposed skin of his neck. “I’m not what?” Your hot breath fans his skin and you notice how it prickles before his jaw tightens and he loosens his hold. You use that opening to your advantage and shove him, taking a step away from him and almost gaining your freedom back –he doesn’t let you.

With a swift movement his arm envelops your waist and he pulls you to him again as you let out a frustrated groan. “It’s over, lass. Yer done.” There’s more gruffness in his voice now.

“I’m not done until I say I am.” You bite back, struggling to free yourself but he’s not even making an effort to hold you against him. 

“Yer stubborn.”

“Aye! We’ve established that already. It also means I’m tenacious!”

“Ya dinnae know when tae quit, nor when tae ask for help.” He twists you in his arms with surprising ease and now you’re facing him as he places his hands on your shoulders. “Ye need tae learn tae trust someone besides yerself.”

“Trust you?” You begin and thank the gods your voice is still stable.

“Aye. I’m here tae protect ya.”

You scoff and turn your eyes away from him, his words hitting too close to the mark, making you uncomfortable. You don’t need guards and you definitely don’t need Eustass Kid as your guard. 

“You’re the last person I would trust.”

Kid removes his hands from your shoulders and takes a step back. His jaw ticks and clenches as he nods. 

“Understandable. I’ll be around, anyway, lass.”

He turns to leave and your body suddenly feels cold, though it’s still tingling from the earlier blaze. His words hang heavy in the air around you. Trust. How can you trust somebody other than yourself if you’ve been doing that your whole life?

-*-

Weeks pass and you’re getting more used to Kid being your shadow. You fight like cats and dogs. He’s insufferable and you’re, in his words, a brat. No accidents have happened while you deliver food and money to the surrounding towns, but you know that’s because nobody dares to attack you while Kid is around. His imposing figure is threat enough for any brigand who wishes to rob you. 

You train a few more times with him watching but he doesn’t give you any more pointers and you start to think that maybe it was your trust comment that got him angry at you. 

Like I care.

You try to fool yourself, but you do care. He’s not the best company but he’s not the worst. If you take away the amused snickers, the mocking undertones in his words, or his gruffness, he’s perfectly tolerable. Though he gets under your skin like no one else.

That, and the tingling sensation that doesn’t seem to go away. To add to it, there’s also a throbbing of need in your core that nights alone, pleasuring yourself, cannot push away. You hate the fact that you loathe your guard almost as much as you desire him, and that alone drives you insane. You're hyper-aware of the way his muscles flex as he moves, the grunts he releases when he exerts himself and his strong scent of steel, sweat and leather. Even worse, all you can think about is how those muscles would flex as he handles your body, or how his grunts would sound as he sinks deep into you and how you'd be smelling him on yourself afterwards. It's overwhelming. 

There's the heat and throbbing again, at your core, in your nipples, everywhere! Fuck. 

“Lass?” His voice near your ear almost releases an unbridled moan from you, since you were lost in thought, so you groan and get up from the dining table where you were reading some letters, stomping your foot. 

“I’m going to bed!”

You don’t even look back at him. 

-*-

You retired early but sleep doesn't come easily. You overheard your father's meeting today and learned that there's been unrest at the borders and another clan abandoned your cause to join the opposing army. 

You're concocting a plan to gather information from the warfront that could tip the scales of the war, and if all goes well, you'll have it by the end of the week. 

You toss again in your bed, kicking the covers off with a loud groan. It's unusually hot for the middle of the night. The window is open but there's hardly any breeze, making it difficult to sleep. It doesn't help that your mind keeps drifting to an insufferable redhead –and how there's just a wall separating you. 

Eventually sleep claims you, and you drift into a dreamless slumber. 

You're jolted awake by a calloused hand clamped over your mouth, as another rips the front of your nightgown. You try to scream as you open your eyes, meeting the lecherous gaze of a scrawny, dark-haired man. He’s trying to grope you as his filthy fingers press against your lips with such force, you're sure they will leave bruises. 

If you survive. 

“Aye, bonnie lass, keep thrashing. I don't like it when lasses lose their fight.” He's untying his breeches with one hand, pinning your arms beneath his legs, his weight pressing down on your torso, and panic floods you. You need to make noise. It's the only way to alert Kid. “I was gonna just rob ya, but ye looked so pretty with yer legs bare. I had to touch ya.” 

His hand leaves his pants to grope your bare thigh and you whimper. Then you remember that you can fight back and bite down hard on the hand that's covering your mouth. He yanks his hand back with a yelp, and – gagging at the lingering taste– you take advantage of the distraction and unbalance him. Grabbing the oil lamp from the bedside table, you smash it against his head, scattering scalding oil over his head, your hand, and legs.

The pained groan that escapes your lips brings tears to your eyes as your skin begins to burn and blister. The bastard is in worse shape, but you don’t look too long. Swinging your aching legs to the side, you try to get up and away from him, but he pins you again, spittle flying from his mouth as he leans closer, the angry red welts from the oil are already forming blisters across his face. 

“Burn me ya bitch? Ye’ll pay for this!” 

But before he can act, the door crashes open, nearly flying off its hinges, and Kid enters, his eyes burning with rage as soon as he sets eyes on the scene unfolding in front of him. He’s shirtless and you can’t help but gasp at the enormous scars covering his torso and left arm –a continuation of the ones trailing down his face and neck, scars you hadn’t yet seen. 

“Get the fuck away from her.” His growl vibrates low and deadly and you sense the man shiver for a second. He yanks you up, his filthy hand clawing at your exposed chest, forcing your back against him as he cowers behind you. A small dagger presses against your throat, and you immediately feel a trickle of hot blood running down your neck.

Kid growls again, a feral sound that bristles the hairs in your body and you smell urine as the man behind you leaks his bladder with fear. “Don’t come any closer!” He squeaks, pressing the dagger harder and you whimper softly at the sting of the blade.

Kid hesitates, then stops. One hand grabs his Lochaber axe, the other, a small dagger. You lock eyes with him and then you lower them to the dagger he’s holding, a steely determination purses your lips and you hope he understands you. “Kid, I trust you.” 

He exhales a breath, flips the dagger in his hand, catching it by the tip, and throws it in your direction. It takes a blink of an eye for you to hear the sickening thud as the blade pierces the man’s skull through the forehead, killing him instantly. Then it takes you another blink of an eye to waver forward and away from the man’s crumpling, smelly body, but in less than that time, Kid is by your side, holding you, pulling you against him with another one of his wordless grunts that, somehow, tells you much more about his relief than his words ever would. 

“Lass, yer alright?” His clipped tone masks the slight quiver in his voice, but it’s there, barely noticeable. You nod, still too shocked with what happened to do much more and Kid sits you on the bed, settling beside you. The man must’ve entered through the open window, you think, as Kid fumbles with your bedcovers, pulling a blanket loose and draping it over you. It dawns on you that your breasts were exposed and you should care, but you don’t. 

As the fabric brushes the blisters on your hands and legs, you hiss, jerking slightly. Kid’s eyes trace the red welts marking your skin. Each new one he finds just deepens his scowl. “Fucker.”

“It’s fine.” You say. “I’ll put some honey and knitbone poultice on it. It will heal.” 

“Lass…” His tone softens as his rough hands gently touch your cheeks on the area near your mouth, clearly seeing the beginnings of the bruise the man’s fingers left there. He tips your chin up to inspect the small cut the man’s dagger left on your throat. “Ye did well, but ye’ve been through hell. Let’s get ya cleaned up.” He tries to move you but you shake your head, your breath coming in gasps as the shock sets in. Kid grips your shoulders, trying to ground you. “Oi, oi, it’s over, look at me lass. Look at me.”

Tears stream down your face, blurring your vision, but you focus on his fiery eyes, your lifeline in the midst of a violent storm. “Ye did well. Ye defended yerself. But I’m here for ye, I told ye.” His hand moves up, the caress lingering softly against your cheek, a gentle contrast to his usual harshness. “Dinnae try tae do everythin’ yer own. Ask for help. I’m here for ye.”

A ragged sob makes your lips tremble and you shake your head, swatting his hand away with more force than necessary. “Stop pretending that you care! We both know you don't. You're just a hired sword and I’m a spoiled brat. So stop trying to make me feel better!”

Your breathing quickens as your heart hammers in your chest. The tears don’t stop, everything hurts and you feel so alone. You decided to trust him and he didn’t fail you so why do you feel like this? 

Because he’s paid to protect you. He’s paid to take care of you. He doesn’t really care.

Suddenly Kid leans forward, pulling you against his chest, his hand cradling your head as his lips brush the crown of your head. You cry, releasing hot tears against his bare skin. 

It’s comforting.

“I care.” He says softly, barely a whisper against your hair. “Yer mine tae protect.” A few moments pass in silence and comfort, only broken by your sobs and sniffs. The keep is quiet. You thought you’d screamed loud enough to wake the townspeople, let alone the whole house. But you must’ve been quiet, for only Kid heard you.

Kid cares. 

He cares for you.

To Be Continued...

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia

|Part 2|

[voxmortuus]

I'm sorry the Hanniheads have been so rude to you. Ironic considering what he dies to the rude lollol. Take your time. There's no rush :)

This is sooooo not self indulgent lmao i was wondering about a yandere Hannibal waking up and his darling is totally gone. Her shoes are still there, all her stuff. He searches every where for her and finally finds her outside, having sleep walked all the way to the edge of the woods.

I sleep walk, I once woke up stirring an empty pot on the stove. Thank God my mom heard the commotion. I was around 12 at the time, now I'm 27 and it's calmed down a lot. I still laugh in my sleep from time to time, bonus points if you could perhaps include the reader laughing in her sleep?

►PAIRING: Yandere!Hannibal X F!Reader ►UNIVERSE: Hannibal ►WORDS: 650 ►SUMMARY/PROMPT: See Above. ►TRIGGER WARNINGS: Panicked Hannibal | Possessive Hannibal | Worried Hannibal | Sleepwalking Reader | Sleep Laughing Reader | Some fluff | Hannibal Watching You Sleep | I may be missing some, but you get a general idea, so please proceed with caution if there is anything in there that is overly triggering please let me know politely and I will make sure it is added to the list. ►NOTE: Thank you for understanding. It has not been a fun experience, some aren't so bad and I appreciate them and others, well, they make me not want to write for the Hannifans. You know what's funny, is my wife and I were talking about that just the other day! Sleep walking can be terrifying! At least you were safe! Anywho, I hope this meets your request and finds you well. Sorry it took so long, it's been a crazy past few weeks! I hope this finds you well and safe. ►IMAGE CREDIT: I found this gif here. It is not mine nor do I claim any ownership. This gif does not belong to me. I found it on an outside source. ►DIVIDER CREDIT: @nyxvuxoa ►My Master Masterlist | Hannibal Masterlist

A void, an empty void. He could feel it, the bed felt cold, like it had been emptied for a long while. Hannibal shoots up looking over to see your side of the bed is empty, and cold.

"Where did you go?" He asked aloud, but low and behold no answer. His brow furrowed. "Y/N!? WHERE ARE YOU?!" He called out, but nothing still.

He looks around the bedroom, and all over the upstairs, you've got to be somewhere. He kept repeating in his head. He didn't like that you weren't here, his heart raced, he panicked a bit, and felt this obsessive need to find you. Where could you have gone, you couldn't have gone far. Calling your phone didn't help, you turned it off, but why? Why did you turn it off tonight? That was slightly unlike you.

Hanibal's brow furrows again, finding your phone on the bathroom sink. He leaves it there before he heads down the stairs. Looking around and sees your things are still here, your bag, your shoes, and the front door wide open. Where did you go?

He feels this deeper panic, did you get taken? Did you run away and leave everything here? He started to worry even more, feeling this deeper need to find you. He steps out of the front door and calls for you, but you do not respond. His jaw clenches and he starts to look around outside, walking the property until he looks in the grass and sees footprints, and he follows them.

The ground was wet from the dew, your feet were covered in blades of grass, some dirt specks, your night shirt hung off your body, swaying in the wind as the bottom of it brushed against your legs. You stood there, just staring into the black void of the woods. What were you looking at? What was it you were seeing? What was calling you? You just stood there, watching, swaying slightly, not aware of the chill of the summer night.

Upon following your footprints Hannibal find you, he knows waking you can be a problematic situation, so he guides you back inside. Blinking a few times, you look over at him and tilt your head.

"Were they not calling you, my Love?" you ask.

Hannibal shakes his head. "No, my Darling, they were not, I'm not as special as you are. Come now, back in bed." He states softly.

"Do you think they'll call for you one day?" You ask.

He smiles and shakes his head. "No, my Darling, I do not." He states softly as he gets you back into bed and covers you up.

The moment your head hits that pillow you're back asleep, but afraid you'll wander off again, he takes a seat in the chair in the corner of the bedroom and watches you. Like hell you're going to leave him. The idea of that happening angered him, but he wasn't going to take it out on you. He just truly didn't like the idea, it made him sick and aggressive and overly possessive.

Watching you, he pays close attention to your motions, maybe he can find a way to fix this, you didn't do it often, but when you did, it scared him each time. It was this little bubble in his chest that grew and grew each time he woke up and you weren't there. You scared him, you scared him deeply, and he didn't like that.

With a small moment of silence, he thought he heard you giggle, so he listened a little closer. Sure enough, you were giggling. A soft tilt of his head, and soft chuckle escaped his lips.

"How adorable." He spoke softly, shaking his head he let out a breath and leaned back in his chair and sat there watching you, making sure you weren't going to leave his side again.

[another-supernova-girl]

The New Normal ( Part 1 : Alibi ) - Cooper Adams/Abbott x Fem Reader

Based on the following request from an anon : "Even after everything you've done I still love you with all that I am" with cooper adams hehe 💓 This is clearly canon-divergent, but I doubt anyone will mind. I re-worked the prompt quote just a tiny bit, but I'm sure it will still get the point across ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Gif is mine. MY JOSH HARTNETT CHARACTER MASTERLIST CAN BE FOUND HERE.

(( word count : ~ 1,100 ))

Much like any job, being the administrative assistant to the chief of the local fire department had its pros, and cons. Up until recently, said pros had only barely outweighed the cons : a steady paycheck, relatively predictable working hours, and a reliable view of a certain charming, handsome, and unfortunately married firefighter. Ever since the dissolution of that marriage, however, the clerical employee's working environment had become substantially more pleasant.

Her long-standing crush on him hadn't exactly been a secret, and although she had not made any attempt to act on it – the rumor of an affair between herself and Cooper Abbott had begun to swirl as soon as news of his impending divorce had hit the fire station. The theories between the firemen and various staff had of course been false, but even Cooper had begun to actively take notice of her, and her obvious attraction to him. And when he'd asked her out to dinner at the end of a shift one night, weeks after he'd ceased to wear his wedding ring, she'd answered in the affirmative before he'd even managed to finish his invitation. Months had passed since that first night, and they had been an item ever since.

🔪

“I really don't understand why I'm even being questioned,” Cooper stated, irritation in his voice, as he loomed over the police officer interrogating him, arms crossed, shoulder twitching slightly.

“It's protocol, Mr. Abbott. We're questioning everyone that fits the description,” the cop answered. “If you have nothing to hide, answering a few questions shouldn't be a problem,” he explained. “Now, we've spoken to every other fireman of the estimated height range and build, and your own chief confirmed you were unaccounted for on the eighteenth, so we just need to know your whereabouts.”

None of your fucking business, Cooper thought as he felt his eye twitch, glancing around for some sort of diversion. He'd managed to make it out of a marriage of fifteen years without his violent proclivities being detected, and he certainly wasn't about to be discovered now.

“He was with me,” a feminine voice declared, and both the officer and The Butcher glanced in surprise toward the direction of the source. “He was with me,” she repeated, and Cooper's firehouse paramour stepped into view, reaching for his hand when he offered it, his brows knit together in bemusement as he watched her eyes that avoided his own.

“Ma'am, you've already been accounted for, that's not-”

“No, um...we've been...dating, and it's sort of frowned upon with the two of us working together, and all...I was on the clock, and we shouldn't have...we just couldn't help ourselves,” she gave a half-hearted smile, shrugging her shoulders as Cooper's hand abandoned hers, only to find a new home at her waist, his thumb rubbing absently as the stark white blouse she wore. “Cooper just...didn't want me to get in trouble.”

There was silence between the three, the cop, the killer, and the alibi. The officer seemed to be contemplating their story, deciding whether it would better serve him to simply move on to the next possible suspect, when a shout from down the hallway drew all their attention. Cooper glanced down to the young woman beside him as the sound of the fire chief's bellowing voice called out her name, and with the briefest grasp of her hand, his thumb grazing over the inside of her wrist, the unmarred spot that mirrored his tattoo, she slipped from his embrace. “I'm...I'm sorry again, officer,” she called as she exchanged a glance with Cooper, before disappearing from sight.

🔪

Late afternoon eventually drifted into night, the assistant managing to hide away in the filing room and distract herself with paperwork, guiltily thankful when sirens had gone off in the fire station shortly after the confrontation with the investigator, Cooper being pulled away to preform his protective duties. His girlfriend had managed to avoid him the rest of the night, or so she thought, as she clocked out on her computer and gathered her effects, disappearing down the empty hallway that led to the back door of the facility.

“I know you don't think we aren't going to talk about this,” Cooper's voice sounded before she managed to round the last corner, just before the exit, her body visibly shuddering at the sudden rasp of his voice.

“I...I think the words you're looking for are 'thank you',” she stated as she tried to slide past him, reaching for the door handle, Cooper's large hand circling her wrist before she could rotate it.

“Someone's been keeping secrets,” he mumbled as he tugged lightly at her wrist, guiding her further away from her escape, out of the field of vision of the closest security camera.

“I prefer to think of it as playing dumb,” she breathed out as her back finally made contact with a wall, The Butcher cutting off any inkling of an escape between the smooth, painted surface behind her and his imposing frame.

“And how long have you been playing dumb?” Cooper murmured, his empty hand finding her free wrist and capturing it as he had the other, placing them both against the wall.

Silence filled the emptiness surrounding them for several seconds before her voice finally sounded again. “Since you were still happily married,” she admitted, his thumbs ghosting over her pulse points, her heart beat accelerating from more than just the anxiety of standing in the grasp of his physical control. “Maybe I...maybe the 'dumb' part isn't really an act-mmph” Her words stifled in her throat as she felt his plush lips against her trembling mouth. The force she'd half-expected in the aftermath of her confession didn't materialize, his kiss just as sweet and tender as ever, the flit of his tongue teasing her own, punctuated by briefer, though no less appreciated caresses of his skin against her own. “Even after everything you've done, I...,” her words dried up in her throat as she felt him draw away, no more than an inch, his warm breath on her prickling flesh as his face disappeared against her throat, his lips finding more skin to manipulate, “I still...” The Butcher's hand fisted in her hair as her wrists fell from their perch on the wall, slipping between layers of fabric that clung to his body, winding along his back, beneath his heavy jacket.

“Do you love me,” he rasped, more manipulation of a different flavor as he stood up straighter, a hand finding her jaw and tilting her chin until she could look nowhere else but his cold, piercing eyes.

“With all that I am.”

🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪

((( This has turned into at least a 2-parter , CLICK HERE FOR CHAPTER 2 )))

tagging : @one-of-thewalkingdead , @gissellec1 , @pinkflowerwombat , @sashimeep , @strangererotica , @the-butchers-baby , @callsign-fangirl , @hibiskooks , @jessy02 , @charliehoennam , @pinastrihaven , @amethystblackkchaos , @bleeding-heartz , @gt-rxn , @simplymurdock

If I forgot anyone, I apologize, and please let me know if you want to be tagged in the next one

COMMENTS AND REBLOGS AND TAGS ARE DEEPLY APPRECIATED.💙

[captainsophiestark]

The Curse of the Sun and the Moon

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2023!

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries/The Originals

Day 7 Prompt: "Do you recognize this?"

Summary: Klaus' SO is writing their doctoral dissertation on cross-culture myths. Much to their irritation, Klaus knows a thing or two about those.

Word Count: 1,877

Category: Humor, Fluff, maybe a tiny bit of angst?

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Love? Hello, can you hear me?"

Slowly, I turned my head away from the paper in front of me, still not taking my eyes off the drawings. A hand waved in front of my face too, but I ignored it.

"What do you want, Nik?" I muttered, only half paying attention to him.

"I want to know you haven't gone into a coma," he whined, flopping down into the chair next to me. I cracked the tiniest smile, but didn't let my train of thought wander from the work in front of me.

"I haven't gone into a coma," I repeated. I didn't say anything else after that and neither did Nik for a moment, until he sighed.

"You must understand why I'm concerned when you respond to my questions like you're in a trance."

I sighed, making a last note before finally looking up at Nik with a tired smile.

"I'm sorry, babe. I know I've been pretty wrapped up in all this lately, but I'm writing a doctoral dissertation in folklore and mythology. I've kinda got my hands full, and if I don't put in the hours to get this done right, it's all going to be for nothing."

Nik rolled his eyes dramatically before fixing me with a look.

"You know, if you just became a vampire with me, you wouldn't have to worry about things like school and work anymore."

I narrowed my eyes. "If I ever make the decision to become a vampire with you, all I'm going to do is go back to college for more degrees and studying. I love doing this, even if it makes me want to walk into the ocean sometimes. All eternity is going to do is enable me to throw any kind of practical job application for my studies out the window."

Nik sighed heavily, but he had a smile on his face all the same.

"I probably could've guessed that answer, couldn't I?"

"Probably."

We shared a smile, and then my attention drifted back to the paper in front of me. I stared at it for a few moments, still half-aware of Nik watching me fondly, when an idea struck like lightning.

"Wait, Nik... I just thought of something." I rushed to turn the paper around on my desk so it faced Nik instead of me. "Do you recognize this? I mean, you've been around for a thousand years. Chances are probably decent that you know something about this, right?"

Nik stared at the paper for a minute, then slowly looked up at me, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"What did you say you're doing your dissertation on again?"

"I'm focusing on myths that appear to transcend cultures throughout history. There's a couple examples of stories and legends that exist in basically the same form in cultures that had no contact. This one, usually referred to as something along the lines of 'the curse of and the sun and the moon', is the main one I've decided to focus on. So... any chance you can tell me anything about it?"

Nik's tiny smile turned into a full on grin, a twinkle in his eyes as he looked at me. My heart leapt.

"Oh my gosh, you totally know something! Tell me, I can't wait. I'm gonna have to find some sources other than you if I want to put it in my paper, but-"

"This is mine, love," he said. I stared at him, trying to process what his words meant, but I came up empty-handed.

"What do you mean? Is this copy of the myth yours?"

"In a way."

Nik looked back down at the illustration depicting the curse, this one of Aztec origin. It was my favorite of the versions I'd found, although the same curse had also appeared in Roman scrolls and a half-dozen other cultures from around the world. He ran his finger over the lines of the drawing fondly.

"I drew this."

My mouth dropped open, and I looked quickly between Nik, the drawing, and back again.

"What... what do you mean you drew this? This is an Aztec myth from the 13th century-" I stopped short as my mind finally caught up. "...which I guess you were alive for..."

Nik smiled and kicked back in his chair, ankles crossed and a proud expression on his face. I just stared at him in shock.

"There is no such thing as the Curse of the Sun and the Moon, love," he said. "The real thing is the Hybrid curse, placed on me. A long time ago, Elijah and I planted this myth in cultures all over the world to get every single werewolf and vampire in the world looking for the components I needed to break my own curse. And it worked."

Nik finished his explanation with a smirk, but I didn't react. I just kept staring at him, my brain going through the equivalent of a computer's blue screen of death. This could not be possible.

"Hold on a second," I said, holding up a hand to stop my own swirling thoughts before looking at Nik again. "Let me get this straight. You drew this ancient Aztec drawing I have on my desk right now?"

"Yes."

"And you created the Roman scrolls I found that kick-started this project?"

"I did."

"And you completely made up the myth of the Curse and the Sun of the Moon, then did the ancient equivalent of editing it into a bunch of wikipedia articles to make everyone believe it was real, all so other werewolves and vampires would do the work of finding things you needed for you?"

"That's right."

"So this curse, this myth that permeates a dozen different, separate cultures, the cornerstone of my dissertation... is just a lie you made up a long time ago, that nobody ever disproved because you're just so fucking old you could create mythology at the same time that these ancient cultures actually existed?"

"Exactly."

I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose, taking a deep breath in and letting it out slowly. Then, my eyes snapped open, and I snatched up a scroll from the top of my desk and hucked it at my boyfriend.

"Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME NIK?" I cried, shooting out of my seat. Nik looked a little shocked, partly because the scroll had hit him smack in the face and then partly because I never got this kind of mad at him. "You can't just fake historical documents to serve your own purposes!"

"Technically, I didn't fake any historical documents. I made them at the same time in history that they're supposed to be from."

"DOESN'T COUNT! My whole dissertation is about examining the phenomena of cultures that had no interactions somehow telling the same stories. There's all kind of examples of it, but this was going to be my ace in the hole, and now I can't use it!"

"Sure you can," Nik said, at last standing from the chair. He was smart enough not to walk towards me, but I hurled a pillow from my chair at him anyway.

"No, I can't! What am I gonna say? Oh, well you see, all these different cultures had the same mythology without talking to each other because my boyfriend is a motherfucker who lied through his teeth to manipulate people, and he's old enough that he completely got away with it!"

Nik shrugged. "Sounds good to me."

"ARGH! I can't believe you- Oh my God."

"What?"

"The stupid fucking vampire myth was going to be another example supporting my dissertation. But that's gone now too. 'Oh, why do all these cultures have the same mythology about a curse and blood-drinking creatures who stalk the night?' Well that's simple, professors! It's because my boyfriend, one of those blood-drinkers, just kept showing up to plant a bullshit story and got other myths written about him in the process!"

"I'm still not seeing the problem, love, that sounds like an excellent presentation."

"NIKLAUS MIKAELSON! I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!"

I rushed to close the distance between us, smacking him in the chest and then continuing to whack him in the shoulders, arms, and chest again.

"You. Can't. Just. Make. Up. Mythology. That. Influences. History. Forever. For KICKS!" I shouted, punctuating each word with a hit. Nik just watched me, not moving even half an inch from the force of my shoves, watching me rage with a small smile on his face.

"I've never seen you like this before, love," he said, his voice silky and low. It only made me want to hit him more. "I quite like it."

"UGH!" I shouted, turning away from Nik all the same. I stared at the desk, my mind finally getting into the later stages of processing. I'd have to completely ditch all this work. "Nik, this is the worst thing you've ever done. And I've dated you long enough to know about the bad things you've done. Holy shit, I'm going to have to ditch so much of this work. I'm going to have to completely change my topic, all because you're fucking ancient and a good artist and a better liar."

After a second, I felt Nik's arms slowly, gently wrap around me from behind. He rested his chin on my shoulder, nuzzling into my hair. Part of me still wanted to hit him, but not enough of me to actually do it.

"I'm sorry, love," he said, voice low and sweet. "Tell me what I can do to make it better."

I huffed a sigh through my nose. "You can tell me where Elijah is. He's a part of this too, I need to kill him next."

Nik chuckled, pulling me tighter to him. I relaxed a little bit into him.

"How about we start with a movie marathon of your choice, all of your favorite junk food, and I dagger any of my siblings who try to disturb you while you're working next week?"

I paused, thinking, dragging out the moment with a little hum. Nik kissed my cheek, slowly moving further along and down towards my neck, and after another minute I sighed.

"Fine. I guess we can start with relaxation and peace. But I am not getting over this any time soon. And I'm still going to attack Elijah the next time I see him."

"It's a deal."

"Of all the things I thought might be a challenge about dating a vampire, I never could've predicted 'destroys my doctoral dissertation by secretly being the subject of my dissertation'."

Nik snorted a little laugh in my ear. "And I never would've thought this would be the closest we came to a deal-braker for you, what with all the murdering I've done."

"I might not be able to claim the high ground on that front much longer."

I twisted around to look pointedly at Nik, but he just smiled right back at me. Wisely, he used his vampire speed to whisk me out of the room before I could look at my ruined dissertation again. This situation was absolutely, completely ridiculous, and I knew I'd probably still be processing for the next few decades. But I loved Nik and the rest of these stupid, lying, ridiculous, ancient vampires, and I'd keep loving them no matter what. Even if I wanted to kill them, sometimes, too.

****************

TVD/TO Taglist: @elenavampire21

[clonefandomevents]

Trans Clone Week 2024 Prompts!

Prompts are here! We have three prompts, a quote prompt, an image prompt and a battalion prompt for the first 6 days! Choose one, choose them all! Day 7 is a free day, anything you like or a prompt you couldn't decide between for an earlier day.

Day 1- July 14th:

Kamino Guard-

-Cadets

-Gender Affirming Technology

-Snuggling

-"For my part, I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream." Vincent Van Goh

('Becoming' banner by Jasper Alexander- https://www.tumblr.com/sunshineprincejeremyknox/744761034799202304?source=share)

Day 2- July 15th:

212th-

-Trans Commander

-Gender Affirming Dirty Talk

-Intimacy

-"Will I be something? Am I something? And the answer comes: You already are. You always were. And you still have time to be." Anis Mojgani, from “Here I Am”, Songs from Under the River: A Collection of Poetry

(A State of Mind by Robert W. Chambers- https://images.app.goo.gl/7BF1f723M5GKoGJDA)

Day 3- July 16th:

501st-

-Clone Gender Expression vs Other's Expectations

-Vod'e Cultural Gender Markers

-Tattoos

-"God has given you one face, and you make yourself another." - Shakespeare

(Barbie and Ken- https://images.app.goo.gl/4LEZ424od96RffeY7)

Day 4- July 17th:

104th-

-During Wartime

-Trans4Trans

-Hair Braiding

-"Invigorated by the possibility of reinventing my own body. The meaning was mine, as long as I was with those who had the vision and vocabulary to understand my creation." -Nick Krieger

(https://www.tumblr.com/sunshineprincejeremyknox/722124686135361536?source=share)

Day 5-July 18th:

Coruscant Guard-

-A Senator/Natborn Finds Out

-Internalized Transphobia

-Nightclubs(79's)

-"Nothing of me is original. I am the combined effort of everyone I've ever known." -Chuck Palahniuk

(https://www.tumblr.com/sunshineprincejeremyknox/742328449316880384?source=share)

Day 6- July 19th:

Original Units-

-After the War

-Gender Euphoria

-Community

-“Always remember that you are absolutely unique. Just like everyone else.” -Margaret Mead

(https://www.tumblr.com/sunshineprincejeremyknox/722349367302012929?source=share)

Day 7-July 20th:

Free Day!! Create any and everything for your favorite clones!

[sigruned]

Trying and failing to be normal about it but listen, as hard as last episode was to watch I am convinced that drinking that tea was the best thing that could have happened to Ruby after everything.

This is true for the sole reason that Ruby coming to terms with who she wants to be before anyone can move on isn't just necessary in the abstract character development sense, but also the primary throughline of the volume cannot resolve without it. By it's nature, the Ever After physically cannot let them leave until she does.

The Ever After mechanically operates by what we would recognize as narrative logic and has a demonstrated empathy with those who are present within it. The physicality of the space is defined and altered by that empathy as we've seen on many occasions now (the rain when Ruby gets sad, the entire nature of the punderstorm. The acres exist as they do to facilitate the afterans' purposes, not the other way around). That said it doesn't have a will of it's own, it's a passive. The plasticity of the environment is prompted by the feelings and desires of those who inhabit it, and the world reacts in turn. It looks like nonsense coming from the "real" world but makes perfect sense once you establish this as a fundamental rule of reality here.

We still don't have a reliable source of information the claim that the tree is how the team gets back to Remnant and a lot of different perspectives on what it really is. From the fairy tale it is the way home, for the afterans it is rebirth. According to Jaune it's death (which says more about him than the tree but I'll get to that in a bit). None of them are completely wrong, I think.

The first time we see anyone 'interact' with the tree is in the herbalist hut with the smoke. I don't think this was just some shadow self vision. We see that the smoke is made from the tree's leaves. Drinking the tea swallowed Ruby up the same way the Herbalist was at the end of this scene. So we have an established pattern here of what returning to the tree looks like, and how ingesting the leaves call out to it, for lack of a better phrase. The important part of this here is the stark difference in how wby interact with the tree, via the images of their past selves, as opposed to Ruby. I'm not going to harp on it too much because better meta than mine circulated when the episode aired, but we're shown how the losses from the previous volumes have ultimately helped to galvanize wby rather than weaken their sense of identity. They don't presently need to initiate a full deconstruction of themselves to find what they want or who they want to be: they don't need the tree and therefore will not be able to find it.

This is in contrast with Jaune's stagnation while in the Ever After, but is ultimately to the same effect. He's spent decades cementing his identity in his guilt. The tree is death because he can't conceive of being himself without that guilt. (We see this exact same concept with Ruby's first visit to the blacksmith. "I'm fine, I can handle it." She's not happy with this, but the tree cannot help her change until she wants to change herself. "If you change your mind...") Until he's able to crack this image of himself, there is no desire for change and thus he couldn't find the tree even if he wanted to.

Between them all, they lack a desire or need for substantial change to their sense of self, and do not have the ability to make it to the tree until they do. Despite her internal turmoil, the narrative has positioned Ruby as the only one who can lead them all to the tree and ergo out of the Ever After, because the Ever After itself has made this journey one and the same with her journey of self discovery.

"The tree isn't a place you go, it's a place you know."

All of this to say that the tree facilitates change, whatever that may mean to those who find themselves there. Deconstruction can be painful, it means stripping away things you thought were key structural components of yourself (Penny's sword, the emblem, maybe even the cloak ???) to find what's left. I am certainly not arguing that Ruby is in a good place right now, but on its face, not wanting to be me anymore is a statement desiring change, not erasure. And change requires destruction and creation both.

So, narratively, Ruby is being deconstructed, broken down to her core elements (a phase of the process we'll probably see conclude next episode because she still hasn't acknowledged Summer in the mirror-). It's hurt, it's not always come from a healthy place, Neo's torture circus certainly pushed the issue, but it is happening. So what is 'Ruby Rose' when you look at what's left?

I don't know but I'm excited to find out.

Ruby doesn't have to answer that question by the end of this volume, nor do I think she will, but what I do think will satisfy the Ever After's "requirement" before it can let them leave is a desire to answer that question. We're seeing the story of "a girl with a lot of problems" in this volume. When the Ever After no longer has a role in that story, literally, it will physically manifest whatever it needs to progress that story.

Like, say, a door back to Remnant. It's that simple.

[v3nusxsky]

Mine 18+

*Authors note~ loving this prompt so much and honestly just want to thank you all for the lovely comments on recent posts. Also met some amazing people through writing so thank you all for improving my life *

Trigger warning~ oral sub r dom l (barely) thigh riding strap on (r receiving) fingering

Prompt~ number 17 (you're. Mine. I. Don't. Share) requested by the darling idkaname666666 on wattpad

☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾

Some how this year you had managed to be roped into chaperoning the Raven. Not only were you part of the planning committee but now you would have to attend. It wasn't that you didn't enjoy the dance or seeing the students so care free, it was more the fact a certain headmistress would be in attendance. And you just knew you were going to have a hard time keeping your thoughts appropriate. Larissa Weems was certainly the belle of the ball in any occasion, that much was a given. If only you had the confidence to revel your feelings for the women then maybe you would be attending the dance together. However you couldn't risk her not returning those feelings for you, and possibly losing your position at Nevermore. At least hiding these feelings meant you could still be at the school where you felt the most safe and still see the women every day while imparting knowledge into the students you taught.

The theme for this years dance had been one that instantly sparked creativity and excitement in you. Being Nevermore's history teacher you had a natural passion for the past. So when Larissa informed you it was going to be based off some form of royal/god of your choosing you couldn't help but be overjoyed. You had just started the Ancient Greek module with your students and this felt like the perfect opportunity to enhance the lessons, giving more of a hands on experience that was so rare in history. Diligently as ever, you drew up the detailed plans for the Raven and submitted them into the headmistress for her to review. Once she had approved your idea even complimenting you on the creativity, you began to draw up posters to advertise the theme. It took a few try's to get it where you were happy but you loved the final product and so did Weems.

In the upcoming weeks to the hall you made sure to centre your lessons around Mount Olympus and any god or goddess that could be linked in any way shape or form. You figured you could save the mythical creatures until after the Raven in a hope the students would take on bored the hidden lessons. Naturally there was a buzz running around Nevermore the day of the dance, classes having been scheduled to finish just before noon to ensure everyone would be ready in time, and the hall fully decorated. It pained you to do so but you had to ask Larissa to assign a cover teacher for your morning classes just so you could oversee the decorating.

Soon enough by the end of the school day the hall was completely transformed, sculptures of some of the main gods and goddess were proudly stood around the room, the roof having a projector that created a look of a beautiful nights sky. The tables made just fit for a god or goddess, gold knives and forks, perfectly white plates and even goblets to hold the heavenly grail. Essentially red whine without the alcohol, it had been hard to source until one of the students who where sorcerers offered to lend a hand and made batches full. Even the lights around the room just set the perfect tone for a night fit for a king. The flowers were the easiest for you to find and of course to include the one and only Wednesday Addams you had even managed to get some black roses. It was perfect and you could only hope the students would agree. And of course Larissa, she had trusted you with such an important tradition for the students of Nevermore and you were determined to exceed any expectations anyone could have.

You scurried off to get yourself ready, the instructions had been clear. The Raven was themed for gods and goddesses so they could either choose a god or goddess to recreate the look of, add their own twist to it and even possibly create their own version of a god or goddess. Personally, yourself with your ability you decided to go as Demeter, Goddess of agriculture and harvest. She even had the ability to control weather and seasons. You used your ability to turn your fake crown into a real one woven with real plants. You decided on a tight, floor length white dress embroidered with beautiful gold accents that related to agriculture. The make up you chose was simple and light but still tied the whole look together with the waves in your hair.

Arriving back at the Raven you couldn't help but be proud of yourself for how it had turned out. You scanned the room until you're eyes found purchase on the principle. She looked simply stunning in her Aphrodite inspired outfit. You couldn't help but stare at her as she moved effortlessly around the room, taking in every small detail. You pulled yourself together and approached the older women, your heart filling with joy seeing the bright smile plastered on her lips. Pleasantries were exchanged between all staff members chaperoning the dance. It didn't take long before huddles of students began to arrive and the dance officially started.

The students seemed to be having a ball and you had to admit they looked fabulous. Some choosing recognisable gods or goddess such as Zeus, Hades, Athena and more and others choosing the less known such as Demeter, Nyx and Eros. And then there was a few who had outright created their own versions of a god or goddess. You were shocked when Marilyn Thornhill who had come dressed as Persephone approached you striking up a conversation with you. You were polite as you always were but you were blatantly ignoring her attempt at flirting because you only had eyes for a certain tall blonde who was seemingly glaring dangers into the back of Marilyn's head. She was sweet and nice but just not your type. Yet the smaller women didn't seem to be receiving the hints that you were not interested in anything other than a platonic relationship. She was a good colleague and maybe even a friend but that's all you could ever see her being.

You couldn't help but sigh in relief when you heard the voice of Larissa interrupting Marilyn's flirty comment. "Miss Y/n, I was just hoping to grab you for a second to talk about or your hard work on the dance" you couldn't help but smile and polite excuse yourself from the conversation with Marilyn and followed the women to a quite area of of the hall. You could tell by the look in her eyes that she was not a fan of Marilyn flirting with you but yet you didn't quite understand why. Still you kept the pleasant conversation flowing while your eyes scanned over the students. It was completely a shock when you felt the breath of the older by your ear whispering about moving this conversation to her office once the dance was over. For the remainder of the dance you were anything but focused, mind filled with thoughts of why Larissa wished to talk to you in her office and why her eyes held such a look when Marilyn flirted with you.

And that is how you ended up sat on the sofa in front of Larissa's fire place with a glass of red wine delicately hanging between your index and middle finger. Larissa's gaze seemed to follow your glass as you brought it to your lips causing that same look from earlier to appear. "Y/n darling I must confess something to you, seeing you with Marilyn earlier it just well I was jealous darling. I don't want you with anyone else but me. What I'm trying to say is I like you darling" her voice seemed to waver as she confessed to returning the feelings you held for her. This was most definitely not what you were expecting from the night yet you couldn't say you were mad. "Rissa, god I've waited so long to hear that, I like you too Larissa and I'm not interested in Marilyn at all" you reassured the older woman even daring to rest a hand on her thigh.

That small action lead to Larissa leaning forward and capturing your lips with her own in a gentle yet passionate kiss. The kind of kiss that left you breathless and needing more. You pulled away with foreheads resting against each other as she growled out "You're. Mine. I. Don't. Share" causing butterflies to form in the pit of your stomach. Hearing those words were like a dream come true. You truly desired nothing more than belonging to Larissa Weems.

This kisses were becoming more needy and your brain hazy, to the point you don't quite remember exactly when you had made it to her room or when you'd lost your outfit. But with Larissa diligently working between your thighs you couldn't bring yourself to care. The coil in your stomach building as you relished in her attentive movements. And when she added two fingers into your soaked cunt, you were a goner. All you could do was whine and moan for the older women to bring you to your release. And when she did with a curl of her fingers and a gentle nip to your thighs, you came screaming out her name. She made sure to help you come back to earth from the high before coming to kiss you. You groaned at the taste of yourself invading your senses.

You were eager to please the older women so when she began to settle herself on your thigh and rock you couldn't help but moan at the sight. You tensed your thigh aiding her in her climb, loving the way she tilted her head back in pleasure releasing a string of moans. You could have sworn she hung the stars, the moon and the sun with her beauty as she came all over your thigh. God this was so much better than the dreams you'd had. She came down from her climax and dropped her head to your shoulder trying to catch her breath. Only you weren't done when Larissa reached over to her bedside table you couldn't help but feel the excitement building once more. "Darling can I?" She murmured question seemingly dying in her throat. You nodded in approval watching as she adorned the harness and rubbed a generous amount of lube over the fake cock. You bit your lip in excitement watching her actions.

It was a surprise when Larissa switch to lay below you, indicating she wanted you to ride her. You were a little nervous but with some encouragement you positioned your core and sunk down on her cock. You groaned at the feeling of her stretching you out, hands coming to her breasts to cup them. Her eyes were black with desire watching as you slowly began to roll your hips against her. With every roll of your hips the fake cock rubbed against Larissa's clit causing her to moan out with you. Only when her desire became too overwhelming did she start to meet your hips with thrusts of her own. Moans were flying freely around the room as you both climbed toward your orgasms. It was with the short sharp thrust of her hips that threw you both over the edge together riding your joint climax's together.

You lifted your hips removing yourself from her strap and collapsing down next to the women. Instantly she seemed to snap into action despite being breathless from her own release. She made her way to the fridge and got two bottles of water and two snack bars before coming back to the bed and offering you both. While you took both and processed coming back from the overwhelming high Larissa had got a warm wash cloth and began to clean you up. Only when she was sure you'd be comfortable and have absolutely everything you could need did she join you back in bed. "Darling" you mumbled "be mine?" Causing the older women to blush and confirm she was indeed yours if you desired to be hers as well.

Word count~ 2094

*Authors note~ I hope this is okay I don't know if I love it or hate it tbh because I had a tough day so I may rewrite this*

[oliolioxenfreewrites]

Writer Questionnaire ❦

Taking a break from writing to catch up on my tags writing 2 books at once is not for the weak 😭 so thank you @drchenquill for the tag as always!

- how long have you had your writing tumblr/writerblr? a fast and loose estimate is fine!

At least since April or early May!

- what lead you to create it?

I wanted to connect with other writers and creatives to make new friends!

- what's your favorite thing about the writer community?

My favorite part is the absolute powerhouse of creativity and innovation. You all have this incredible knack for coming up with unique ideas that never fail to inspire me. Plus, they're hilarious! Their sense of humor adds a delightful twist to everything we do, making even the wildest ideas feel approachable and fun. Honestly, being around such talent and laughter is a constant source of my motivation and joy!

- what’s one thing you'd like in mutual to know about you?

No notification I receive on this app goes unnoticed. I'll be at work, smiling because someone found my writing and enjoyed it! It means so much to me and only makes me want to write even more!

- is there anything you'd like to see more of on your dash?

I would love more collaboration and interaction in my messages. I am open to discussing and exchanging ideas with another writer. I’m particularly interested in co-creating a planetary system and bouncing creative ideas back and forth.

- which wips or writing projects are you noodling about lately

I'm currently working on fleshing out a novel titled Journals from The Whitmore Estate, which is a modern/historical fiction story. The novel explores the slave and civil war era, and also delves into our near future. It centers around the actions of a power-hungry ancestor who sought to shift power dynamics, and the resulting centuries of generational backlash.

- how long have you been working on them?

Its been about a few months, I had to take a break to give myself new perspectives and coming to a decision on who the main character was!

- do you remember what inspired them/what got you started

I was looking at writing prompts and came across one that said something along the lines of “Your character inherits a manor from a distant relative. Upon moving in, they discover what lies within its walls, answering why your family has been plagued by bad luck for as long as anyone can remember.”

- how much time, in your best estimation, do you spend thinking about them?

Wayyy too much! Now rhat I've found the main character, I can't put it down!

- when someone ask the dreaded "what do you write about?" question what do you usually say?

“I write whatever comes to mind!” Or “You can read my writings to find out.” 😗

- name any characters you created. Side characters, protagonist, antagonist, characters who’ve never been written, the first original abomination you ever pulled from your ass; whomever you’d like!

Kirjani is my favorite oc to date! Her chosen family: Rick, Raelin, and Lena. The three sisters from the Isles of Aurorith! Imani, Jade and Jasmine, the first ocs I ever created, they deserve their story to be told. (I’m working on it!!) My scrapped character folder is at about 60 something, but the one I just couldn't figure out completely was their grandmother Queen Amara, those who've followed me for a while probably remember her! She was just a bit too sinister and I tried to work around certain motivations and rationality kept getting in the way 🤣 I might use her for another story of mine I've been thinking about

- who’s the most unhinged?

I think it would be between Amara or Kirjani for sure. One of them is justifiably so, the other… not so much LOL

- who comes the most naturally for you to write?

Jules a gay sophmore in high school who is grieving the sudden loss of his mother (I haven't introduced him yet!) He's the first character I've ever based on myself or someone like me rather.

- do you ever cringe at them?

Oh yeah, that’s when I'm writing his best romantic scenes. Love, especially teen romance is supposed to be cringy and awkward at times. That's what makes it so!

- how much control do you feel you have over your characters? do they ever “write themselves,” refuse to cooperate, or do things you didn’t expect? to what degree? are some less cooperative than others?

They literally form their own lives that I just go with, its their world I’m just living in and writing it! I'm considerably outnumbered lmao

- do you enjoy people asking questions about your characters? and do you have a preferred means of receiving said questions? for example, as asks, as replies, as reblogs, as tag notes, as comments on ao3, etc.

More than words can express, that's why I love sharing my characters and their personalities. I want to open discussions on humanity and how the human condition can create dynamically and perplexing people!

- what makes you want to follow another writeblr account? do you follow ‘em as you see ‘em, or take time scoping out the blog to make sure you align with its content? do you follow based on wips, or vibes?

I don't really have enough mutuals or followers, so I follow people based on their creativity and if they're on Writeblr. I don't have much discernment at the moment :)

- what makes you decide against following?

Just depends. I guess I haven't found a page I've ever said, “Oh no, can't follow that,” too.

- do you interact with non-mutuals often?

Not really, and if I follow you and you don't follow me back, I will give you 24 hours before I unfollow. We're all creatives here; no one is more creative than the next person, in my opinion.

This was so much fun to answer, I have so many more tags to do, but I’m not gonna stress ah finishing them all today 🥲 I have some short stories I wanna post as well from the weekend.

I tag @leahpardo-pa-potato, @slenders1ckn3ss, and @coffeewritesfiction. + open tag to any writer interested!

[cutiedwaekki]

hiii! ~

i follow you on ao3 (@bbywoojin) and was wondering if you could write a fic with woojin in it? (i am an OT9 & OT8 skz stan ;~;)

could the prompt be something like this?:

chan accidentally looks at the internet search history of his husband, woojin, while borrowing his computer. chan finds that woojin has been watching feederism/weight-gain porn and is sexually attracted to chubby men. chan decides to watch some of the videos woojin was watching and finds that the whole idea makes him horny too. chan, who is muscular, decides to introduce the feederism/weight gain kink to their sex lives. he is willing to be fed copious amounts of food by his husband to fulfill his fantasies.

 ♡  ♡  ♡

in case you are too uncomfortable to write woojin as a character, you could replace him with seungmin instead.

i absolutely love your work! ~  ♡

Hii ♡

thank you very much for your request, it made me happy and inspired me a lot, I hope you like it :D

(Btw y'all go and read their seungbin fic on ao3 you won't be disapointed 👌)

TASTE

—come and taste me now

Seungmin x Chan

summary : using Seungmin's computer, Chan discovered his husband's fetish which soon became his too

contain : established relationship , feederism , weight gain , smut

Enjoy ♡

☆ミ( ＾ω＾ )

—"Minnie, can I use your computer? Mine won't turn on! "Said Chan from their shared bedroom.

Seungmin, his husband for almost a year, was in the living room reading with some music from the TV. He poked his head out of his book and turned towards the source of the oldest's voice. "Go ahead, but be quick, I'll need it"

So, Chan completely abandoned the idea of his computer turning on and turned on Seungmin's. He always had this sweet memory when he observed the stickers on the youngest's laptop. All cute things, sanrio characters like pompompuri, cinamonroll or even hello kitty. But in the center of the computer, a big sticker of him and Chan, a photo they'd taken in a photo booth for their one-year relationship. It was so cute!

But Chan refocused and opened the computer before turning it on, hoping that he could quickly accomplish what he wanted to do before Seungmin started asking questions.

In fact, the only reason he needed a computer was to book a week-end together on Jeju island. The two of them were so exhausted by their work that they hadn't taken the time to settle down and spend time with each other.

So from the moment he got the idea, he didn't look back and kept going. Fortunately, the ticket was quickly snapped up. He could have turned off the computer and tidied up, but given Seungmin's curious nature, it was better to erase his research, transferring everything by e-mail before going to the history and erasing his passage.

But just as he was about to do so, something caught his eye. The previous browsing Seungmin had done caught his attention, and he couldn't help but scroll down for a closer look. Between sites for exchanging e-mails, a videoconferencing site, there were several pornographic sites.

It's often said that curiosity killed a cat, but if it meant Chan could get to know his husband's fantasies better, how could he refuse? The man he'd only caught masturbating to, claiming he was into pure vanilla, might have some unmentionable fantasies that Chan wouldn't hesitate to tease him about.

With a wry smile, he opened the links to the sites he'd visited, and his smile quickly faded as he expected something different. Nothing too strange, just people being fed in one with very little clothing on. In another video, the person was naked, showing off his fat body; in another, the person was even wearing a pig costume and eating a wgole cake by himself

He watched each video almost assiduously and realized two things:

1- his husband was a fucking fat admirer (very comical when you see that Chan had more muscle than fat)

2- He was very excited about it too

His mind was totally confused, what was he supposed to do? Admit to Seungmin that he'd interfered with his intimacy to confide him that he now knew his fetish? Say nothing? Now he could understand his lover's wandering hands better than when he'd told him he'd put on weight.

Clearly he hadn't expected it, Seungmin didn't let anything show on that front and, to be honest, he'd even had trouble knowing at first that Seungmin was interested in him, almost asking "why" when Seungmin asked him out.

However, he wasn't disappointed by this discovery, the images hadn't displeased him so much that for a brief moment he'd even envied their full, round belly compared to his flat, muscular one.

His hand rested on his belly as he watched the first video one last time, he was definitely envious of what he was seeing and yet surprised that it took him another year to discover it.

—"Channie ? Have you finished with my computer? I need it! " exclaimed Seungmin to Chan was in front of him before he even had time to close the computer window.

☆ミ( ＾ω＾ )

So there they were, face to face, sitting on their bed, the computer closed and placed far away from them, Seungmin blushing and Chan surprised.

Perfect moment to talk about it, isn't it?

—"D-Did you watch everything?"Seungmin asked timidly, avoiding Chan's gaze out of shame.

—"I liked what I saw," said Chan almost suddenly, prompting Seungmin to look at him with a confused look.

—"wh.. what do you mean?"

- "You clearly like it and I like it, wouldn't you like to give it a try ?"

Seungmin's confusion grew as a growing smile formed on his face.

—"Really? Are you sure? Don't feel pressured Channie if you don't like it-"

—"I'm interested I tell you, and if need be we can always stop, can't we?" Chan cut him off, showing his conviction and determination to experiment with him.

If need be, they could just stop, right?

☆ミ( ＾ω＾ )

They didn't stop, neither of them wanted it to stop.

They'd agreed to try it over the weekend, when they'd have more time to experiment.

Chan although the least conaisseur was the one he was guiding Seungmin who was living his greatest fantasy.

The youngest was deeply in love with Chan, but seeing him gorge so much, demand belly rubs, be so clingy with him, gem his name, it didn't take much to corrupt his brain and make him crazy about him.

It was as if they'd found what was missing from their daily lives to make their relationship just... perfect

A simple meal could turn into a make-out session. And a big meal could turn into a torrid sex scene between the two lovers.

As time passed, it became their routine, just like Chan, who with time and lack of exercise (unless if sex counted as sport) gained weight.

At first it was nothing, just that his muscles weren't as visible. Then his jeans started to get tight, his ass didn't fit all the way in, his thighs started to rub against each other, his belly shook with every step he took. His chest softened and trembled with each step.

He didn't know how much weight he'd gained, but it was enough to know that he felt good this way, he was confident, Seungmin was even more clingy with him and at least that evening they'd both found a good way to relax and unwind from their exhausting day.

If Chan had known, he would have looked into Seungmin's browsing history earlier

☆ミ( ＾ω＾ )

His body lay heavily on the bed, so full he could hardly move. But Seungmin was still right on top of him, kissing the nape of his neck with so much desire that moans couldn't help coming from Chan's mouth.

today was a great day, the oldest had reached his goal since they had discovered feedrism, he wanted to try and weigh 150 kg, not knowing that a few months with a very affectionate husband would finally get him there.

—You're finally fat as fuck " exclaimed Seungmin between wet kisses.

—I'd have been fat a while ago if you hadn't fucked me so daringly" replied Chan narsuoisantly, simply earning a slap on his already full belly, making him moan.

—Pigs don't talk, you should know that" declared Seungmin in an authoritarian tone. "Now shut your beautiful mouth and let me reward you" he regained his soft, sensual air as he began to undo his shirt and the oldest one.

He was overcome with admiration for his belly, it was so round, so soft, he admired her stretch marks which were still a reddish/pinkish tinge, his husband was putting on weight so easily, and all because of him.

The thought only excited him more.

He kissed him again, pressing his body to his. He was so in love, but so impatient that he desperately wanted to kiss Chan, while at the same time undoing his pants without leaving the oldest's lips.

It wasn't long before they both ended up naked on the bed, their breathing panting, but that didn't stop Seungmin from turning Chan over (or at least trying to) to get a good view of his back, where his back fat was trembling, but above all to get a view of his round, plump ass, he couldn't even see his lover who was hidden behind it.

He put his hand on his ass, even one hand wasn't enough to slap it, you needed at least two hands for that.

At this thought, he slapped his ass, earning the groans of his lover, who was only waiting to be fucked.

No sooner said than done, he was already penetrating his lover, doing it so often that they didn't even need a preliminary to make the pleasure last, feeding Chan had become their preliminary.

So, once his cock was deep inside his and his hands were gripping the love handles on both sides of Chan, he began to come and go under the groans of the oldest, which grew louder and louder as he accelerated the pace.

they were never too talkative during sex, preferring to save their breath to keep going.

Soon they became one, the tension in their abdomens finally broken, Seungmin's stuttering hips stopped as he delivered one last deep thrust and spread deep inside Chan.

And so all both, panting, found themselves next to each other, their bodies still chaid and sweating.

—"How much longer are we going to keep this up?" Said Chan with amusement, definitely not ready to stop being fulfilled by his husband.

- "Until you can't get through the front door any more" teased Seungmin before giving a final kiss on his husband.

[chumby4life]

All Mine (Turles x Reader)

Full fic is here!!!!

Summary: Turles comes to Earth to exploit its resources for his own gain. Unfortunately, you've caught his eye and he wants to take you back into space as a little souvenir.

You lay atop the grass, staring up at the sky and the canopy of leaves stirring in the wind. You often come out to the forest to relax and clear your head. The peaceful, verdant landscape serves as a reprieve from the bustling concrete jungle in which you live. It's one of the only places you can truly feel...free. You yawn, overcome with fatigue.

"My shift doesn't start for a few hours. It shouldn't be a problem if a just rest my eyes for a second..."

"Resting your eyes" inevitably turns into a full-on nap. Thanks to your two grueling jobs, you exist in a state of exhaustion. Your complete lack of a support system has forced you into these lowly circumstances. The dark circles etched into your visage convey the stress and deep sense of resignation that reside behind your eyes. You drift off to sleep, a brief respite from reality.

A loud crack followed by a low rumble jolts you awake. You frantically look around, searching for the source of your rude awakening. All you find are large, gnarled roots that weave through the surrounding ground. You spring to your feet before one of the roots can entangle itself around your body. "W-what the hell is this?! A dream? Something to do with climate change?" you mutter to yourself. You navigate through the ever-growing roots, looking downward to avoid tripping over them. And just when you think you've evaded danger, you feel your body collide with a wall of armored muscle.

"Ow, what now? What was...that...oh." You trail off as you bring your gaze up to a tall, intimidating man staring back down at you. It's bad enough that you're alone with a stranger out in the woods, but this stranger is... very strange, to say the least. His hair appears jaunty and unruly, and he sizes you up with a red lens that adorns his right eye. And to top it all off, a long, furry tail flicks back and forth behind him. A smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth, revealing a set of sharp fangs.

"Well, hello there, little one. I couldn't help but notice you admiring our new tree. it's quite impressive, isn't it?"

Fear swells within you as the strange man's imposing form towers over you, casting a shadow over your smaller frame. Beads of sweat trickle down your forehead as you notice the foliage around the roots shrivel and wither away. Nevertheless, you muster up the courage to interrogate him.

"A tree?! You're telling me these roots lead to some huge, invasive super-tree? Why would you plant something like that? Just who are you...?" You back away from the man, alien, whatever he is. Your back hits one of the larger tree roots as he stalks toward you, blocking your path and caging you between his arms. Despite his monstrous appearance, he speaks with an oddly suave, dulcet tone.

"Why did I plant it, you ask? Hmm... All you need to know is that this planet's energy belongs to me now. Soon, there won't be much left of this habitat you call 'Earth'." (He mispronounces that last word.) He reaches down to grab your chin, holding your face up and examining you as if you were some live specimen. "As for me... I'm Turles. Just think of me as your savior, the one that will rescue you from this soon-to-be husk of a planet."

You stand there, trapped, considering the implications of his words. All you can think to do is scream for help. To your dismay, Turles pulls you against him, clasping a hand over your mouth. He chuckles at your muffled cries.

"Shhh... Hush now, little Earthling. We wouldn't want any trouble, would we? I would suggest you make this easy on yourself and listen to what I have to say. Understood?" You give a defeated nod in reply, prompting Turles to release you from his grasp. He begins to stroke your hair before continuing. "Good girl. Now listen closely. I am offering you an opportunity that others would only dream of. Imagine having total power at your fingertips. Picture yourself breaking free from the bounds of this world, exploring the endless expanse of the cosmos. All of this and much, much more is yours... You need only cooperate and come with me willingly. Otherwise..."

You feel Turles move his hand down to your shoulder, which he grips tightly.

"...You can simply be left to die on this hunk of rock with the rest of your kind. The choice is yours. But I know we'd both just hate for it to come to that."

Goosebumps prickle on your skin at his touch. You are terrified, yet still compelled by Turles' offer. If what he says is true, then he will provide you with exactly what you've been yearning for - An escape from your bleak, mundane life here on Earth. Freedom to truly do as you please. Someone who will look after you. And so, fear gives way to excitement as Turles continues to smooth-talk you, filling your head with idyllic fantasies. You allow yourself to give in to his charm, not like you have much of a choice anyway.

"Alright then... I'll join you." You look down at the ground, afraid of what will happen next. You gasp as Turles sweeps you off of your feet, cradling your trembling form in his arms as if it were weightless. He leans down to whisper in your ear, his breath hot on your neck. "A wise choice, my dear. You won't regret it, I promise. Now, then... The stars await us."

With that, Turles takes to the sky with you in tow. You squeeze your eyes shut, clinging to him for safety. Your eyes remain shut until you feel Turles gracefully land on solid ground. When he puts you down, you turn around to watch as the ship's hatch closes with a hiss. As the daylight from outside fades from view, a sense of dread overtakes you as you realize that there is no turning back. Your fate now rests in the hands of your mysterious captor.

[juette]

how to watch videos on the 3ds

i couldn't find an answer as to what setting to use to convert videos to be readable on my o2ds, so after a bit of experimenting i decided to make this little tutorial. please let me know if you need any aditional help!

your 3ds will need to be hacked. if it isn't already, follow 3ds.hacks.guide.

you will need a computer with handbrake installed on it. you may also need makemkv (if you need to rip the video from a dvd/bluray) and mkvtoolnix (if you wish to add subtitles to your video). you will need video player for 3ds on your console.

step 1: ripping the video from the dvd/bluray

insert your disc into your computer's disc drive. open makemkv. it will look something like this. click the image of a dvd and wait for it to load.

the contents of it will be listed like this. you may uncheck the boxes of anything you don't want to extract: i am unchecking the french audio and subtitles. once you've selected what to extract, click the button i circled in red and let it do its thing.

step 2: converting it with handbrake

these settings are optimized for the old 2ds/3ds. the new 2ds/3ds is more powerful and can play higher quality videos but i do not own one to test settings on.

open handbrake. click "file" to select your video file.

in the summary tab, set the format to mkv.

in the dimensions tab, set the resolution limit to custom and the maximum size to 426x240.

in the video tab, set the encoder to MPEG-2, set the framerate (fps) to 25 and make sure "peak framerate" is checked, and set constant quality to 5.

constant quality 0 also works, though it has occasional lags when playing the video.

in the audio tab, change "bitrate" to "quality" and set it to 2. make sure mixdown is set to stereo.

in the subtitles tab, remove subtitles by clicking the X next to it, unless you want subtitles burned into the video (permanently drawn on it).

save these settings as a new preset for future use, then click "start encode".

step 3: adding subtitles

you may download .srt subtitles from opensubtitles.

open mkvtoolnix-gui.exe. right-click the "source files" window to add your video and your subtitles. click "start multiplexing" on the bottom.

step 4: playing the video on your 3ds

place the file anywhere on your 3ds' sd card. i created a folder named "video" on mine.

place the sd card back inside your 3ds and turn it on. open video player for 3ds.

click the film icon on the touch screen, then press x to choose a file. navigate through your folders until you find your video, then press a to select it. if you have mutiple subtitles tracks, you may be prompted to choose one. your video should play without issues.

did you find this tutorial helpful? you can buy me a ko-fi as thanks!

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

Mine to Protect Part II

Source for Pic

Mine to Protect

Word Count: 7026

Tags for the whole story: Highlander!Kid; Fem!Reader; Alternate Universe - Scotland 13th century; Gore; Blood; Violence; Death; Mild Angst; Fluff; Nudity; Cursing; Sexual Tension; Explicit Sexual Content; Protective!Kid; Possessive!Kid; Soft!Kid; Feral!Kid; Jealous!Kid; Happy Ending; Sort of Enemies to Lovers; Teasing; Banter; NSFW; MDNI; Mature Audiences;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: Your father and his allied clans are at war, and you're a liability. When you're assigned a guard to protect you - against your will - you do everything in your power to infuriate him. The problem is that he can be more infuriating than you, as you're about to find out.

Notes: This is the largest of the chapters, sorry about that but I couldn't find another logical way to split it! I hope you're all enjoying Highlander Kid! I know I am 😎 Also, this part doesn't have a prompt, as it was pushed to part 3.

Part 2 of 3

|Part 1| | | |Part 3| |Masterlist|

The days that follow the attack, you don’t acknowledge what passed between you and Kid. Neither does he. Other than building an intricate iron lock for your window himself, and forbidding you to open it at night, which inevitably leads to another argument between the two of you.

“You don’t give me orders! My father hired you!”

“Stop bein’ a brat! It’s a damned lock, and ye have the key tae open it! It’s no’ a prison, lass!”

“You don’t tell me what to do.”

“I do when it comes tae yer safety! Between all yer shenanigans and trips tae town, I’m already burdened enough.” You turn sharply away from the window, your gaze burning against his as he purses his lips, realising the mistake he made. 

“Burdened?”

“No’ what I meant. Yer just being difficult.” He clears his throat, grunts, and crosses his arms over his chest, clearly a defensive position. 

“Aye, I get what you meant, Kid.” You scoff. “Matter of fact, you just earned a night off. I don’t want to burden you. Go away and leave me alone. You're dismissed, Kid.”

He stands in silence for a beat, and you turn back to the window, actually locking it so he does leave you alone. 

“Yer no’ the one who hired me, lass. Ye cannae dismiss me.”

“Get out!” You shout, banging your palms against the window, frustrated breaths leaving your mouth in ragged pants. You don’t look, but a shuffle of clothes and the click of the door tells you he’s left. 

Good. 

Because today, you need to go into town without your shadow, or your plan won’t have the slightest chance of working. 

-*-

You heed the advice Kid gave you on your first encounter and cover your face with the hood of a plain, worn-out brown cloak, travelling inconspicuously to the inn on the outskirts of town, where no one will find you. 

You arranged an encounter with a laird’s employee from one of the opposing clans. He has vital information that could help turn the tide of the war, and he’s willing to sell it to the highest bidder. With a sack full of jewellery, you’re it at the moment. 

Dismissing Kid was either the brightest idea you had or the dumbest. You don’t know this man at all, but you came prepared. Your hands pat the two daggers strapped to your thighs, and you take a deep breath before entering the inn. It’s eerily empty which makes your encounter setup very suspicious.

Except for the fact that the man is young –roughly your age– handsome, and clean. So maybe this can pass as a lover’s encounter instead of a strategic one, and that plays in your favour. 

“My lady.” The man drawls as you sit in front of him, pulling your hood back a little but not removing it entirely. 

“Sir.” You return the greeting. “Let’s get to the point, please. I must return before my absence is noted.” You think about Kid once more and hope you made the right choice by dismissing him. 

“I understand the rush, but I must say I’m impressed.” You raise an eyebrow, your right hand clutching the dagger at your thigh as you hold your breath. “You’re stunning.” A small surge of heat rushes to your cheeks as you were not expecting that.

“Thank you?” You begin, not really knowing how to respond to his compliment. “Now, I have gold and–”

“The price has changed.” He says smoothly as his eyes devour you.

“What do you mean? We had an agreement, I can’t get more gold on such short notice, and–”

“I don’t want gold anymore.” Your breath hitches as he grins, and you understand immediately what he wants, even before he says it. “I just want one night with you.” He says it anyway.

One night? Closing your eyes, you rest your elbow on the table, pressing your index finger and thumb against the bridge of your nose. One night… if one night is all it takes to get information that can free your people, you’re willing to sacrifice it.

It’s not like you’re a maiden anyway. You’ve been with men –scratch that– you’ve been with boys who barely knew how to touch you, but… are you willing to do it for your people?

Absolutely.

“Fine. I accept.”

-*-

Kid can barely believe his eyes as he watches through the window. He rakes one hand through his fiery hair while the other grips the handle of his sword. He followed you to the outskirts of town to a run-down, rickety inn just so you could meet with a man? He lets out a low growl as he clenches his teeth. 

That’s why you got rid of him so fast earlier, you wanted to get laid and needed to get rid of him. 

He knows he should turn back and go to the keep, he even tries to argue with himself, trying to convince himself that the only reason he’ll stay is because your father hired him to protect you, but he knows he’s lying.

He’ll stay because he can’t bear the thought of you in another man’s arms, but he bears it even less if he has to stay away from you while you do it. It’s the most twisted form of masochism he’s ever known. 

At first, it looked like just a meeting, but now you’re climbing the steps towards the rooms and he can barely stop his pacing. The demons in his head fight and struggle against him, as they have been doing since the cursed day he laid eyes on you. Demanding that he split his attention between duty and want, honour and need. 

You’re the most beautiful, aggravating creature he’s ever met. And damned if he doesn’t care for you more than he should. 

Fuck this.

There’s no way he’ll dig a hole in the floor with his pacing when he can drag you out of that fucking room himself. You can be mad at him for all eternity, if you wish, but he’d much rather have that than see you in another man’s arms. 

Kid silently enters the inn, his scowl and weapons prompting no questions from the man behind the counter when he leaves a coin there and climbs up. Upstairs, there’s only one closed door.

Kid seethes and grits his teeth, his jaw nearly snapping from the tension, but as soon as he reaches the door, he hesitates, your voice, coming softly from the inside, stops him in his tracks.

“Can I have the war information now?” You ask, a slight tremble in your voice he’s not accustomed to hearing, which makes him furrow his brows. 

War information? 

You’re giving yourself to this bastard for information? Somehow, this makes him even madder than the though of you being here willingly just to fuck another man. This is wickedly cruel. Sacrificing yourself for information? 

He knows that’s something you’d do easily. You go out almost every night, there’s barely any jewel to your name, and you give away most portions of your own food. He knows how much you’re willing to give and do for the people you care so much about. But this? This he cannot stomach.

“Soon, my lady, soon. Let’s get to this first, shall we?”

Kid clenches his fists and hesitates again. You being mad at him for interrupting a quick lay was something he was fine with. But you being utterly angered at him for ruining your chance of turning the tide of the war… that will get him in real trouble with you. And he’s weighing all the pros and cons of it. Is he willing to risk it? Can he fucking bear it? Because there’s no way he’s going to leave you here alone, even if he has to hear everything that happens in that fucking room. 

“Wait, wait. No, stop. I’ve changed my mind, I need more time and–” 

“I think not, my lady. You’ve had enough of that.”

Fuck the risks.

-*-

Your hands are still pushing the man’s hands away from your legs when Kid kicks the door open, sending it flying back, broken and splintered. A gasp leaves your lips as he rushes forward, grabbing the man by the collar and shoving him to the ground near the door.

“Get the fuck out.” 

Kid doesn’t need to say it twice before the man bolts, tail between his legs. And now you’re pissed.

“What the hell, Kid! I said you were dismissed for the night! That man had vital information about the war front and–”

“And ye’re willin’ tae do what for it, exactly?” Kid roars as he turns to you, his cheeks nearly as red as his hair, but he doesn’t scare you. The only time he did was when you didn’t even know who he was. So you take a step forward, meeting his eyes with the same fire he’s pining you with. 

“Whatever was necessary to save my people!”

Kid points at the bed, the veins in his neck protruding dangerously as he steps closer. “Lay with him? Whore yerself for information?”

A surge of heat rushes through you, and his words hit harder than you expected, but you still bite back with equal venom. “I would’ve done anything. My people matter more to me than my body or one measly night. I don’t care.”

“Ya should!” His broad figure towers over yours, and you sense him tense up, the lines on his face sharper, the intensity in his gaze darker. 

You shove his chest, but he doesn’t budge an inch. “Well, I don’t! And I could’ve handled it alone.”

His laugh sends a waft of warm air against your hair, and you hiss. “Aye, aye! I believe ye! Like ye’ve handled it all the other times? Little Miss ‘I dinnae need help from anyone’!” He mocks.

The condescending tone makes your anger burn hotter, the air between you dense with tension, crackling with energy. You shove him again –to no effect. “I cannot let my people suffer through this war anymore!”

“What about ye?”

“I don’t matter, Kid!” Another shove. “They matter! The children, the elderly, the sick!” A stubborn tear falls from your eye and you shove him again. “I’m the only one they’ve got! I don’t give a damn about myself, I–” You shove him again but his hands gently catch yours, and you sob. You’re relieved he showed up. You would’ve done anything, but that doesn’t mean you wanted to do it.

“And ye think I give a damn about yer charity? Yer people?” His hand reaches up, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting your jaw so you have to meet his eyes. “Lass, I’d rather see the world burn down tae ashes and be ravaged by war, than let some bastard touch ye like that.”

His admission takes you both by surprise, but he quickly masks it with an angry scowl. Your heart, however, gives you no reprieve, pounding violently in your chest. You will yourself to throw back a witty retort, angry words, anything– but nothing comes out except awkward sputters as you struggle to shut your open mouth. 

Kid’s words hang in the air between you like a storm cloud, charged and dangerous, leaving you unsure how to act. He lets go of your hand and chin and you step back, dowcasting your gaze and taking a deep breath, your anger subsiding as your voice loses the edge and intensity it had a minute ago. 

“I don’t know what else to do, Kid. It’s my people, my responsibility.”

“It’s no’.” His voice is level again, still edged, but much less intense. “It’s yer da’s. He should be the one seekin’ aid and information, no’ ye. There’s always another way, and next time ye want tae get information,” Kid sighs heavily. “Dinnae do it alone.”

You swallow hard. There are no more tears, but the weight of his words hangs heavily on your chest. You can’t rely on your father for help. He doesn’t leave the keep, barely knows what’s happening around him, aside from the warfront. It was up to you. And… and now Kid… put an end to it. 

“You ruined everything.” You whisper, not daring to meet his eyes because you’re being unfair. He saved you. 

Again.

“Aye. I’d do it all over again.”

-*-

It’s a painful feeling, the one that lingers afterward. You know you care more for Kid than you should. It’s not just desire –but by the gods, there’s so much desire– it’s something far deeper, far more intense. His words resound in your head like a sickly echo. 

“I’d rather see the world burn down tae ashes and be ravaged by war, than let some bastard touch ye like that.”

He cares too. There’s really no other explanation. But you don’t know what to do with it, so once again, you and Kid don’t talk about it.

He’s more and more adamant about not leaving you alone and, sometimes, it pisses you off so much that you sneak out, elude him, and trick him so you can just find some peace. He always finds you and you always end up arguing.

Today, though, you manage to buy yourself a decent amount of time by asking the children from the town to distract him, and before Kid even realises what happened, you’ve already given him the slip. There’s every chance he’ll find you soon, but for now, you will enjoy the coolness of the nearby loch. There’s a more well-known, wider area of the loch, where children usually play, but you know of another, smaller bay just a few metres away, and it's perfectly secluded and peaceful. Just what you need at the moment.

Peace.

Because there’s none of that when Kid is around. Not inner peace at least. There’s always a war raging inside you, willing you to push him to his limits, to defy him because you don’t need –nor want– his protection. Yet, the space between the two of you is always charged with raw energy and magnetism, like a storm cloud waiting to pour its deluge on both of you. 

Unsurprisingly, now that he’s gone, you miss him.

Fuck me.

-*-

It takes Kid almost an hour to sniff out your trail, and he’s beyond pissed. He’s about to lay all his anger on you, almost wishing you’d gotten into trouble, just for you to realise that you need him and stop doing foolish shit.

The loch?

He approaches silently, always moving like a shadow before making his presence known, and by the gods, he made the right choice in doing that now, because you’re standing naked at the loch’s edge, preparing yourself for a cold dip.

Kid’s heart pounds violently against his chest as he watches you. His eyes devour your body, blood roaring with the desire he’s felt for you since you tried to punch him on that first night. But it’s on your face his gaze lingers unabashedly. You have a look of utter relaxation on your features, and he’s never seen you like this around him. Completely vulnerable, unguarded, and free.

He’s lived on edge since meeting you, constantly tense in your presence, alert to any and every danger that could take you away from him, and even when there’s no danger, there’s always something far more perilous. An unspoken tension between the two of you, anger and desire mingling into something he can’t quite place, but that keeps pulling you to him. It’s maddening.

Yet, what he’s feeling now goes way beyond anything he’s ever felt in your presence. It’s wilder, untamed, and desperate. 

Gritting his teeth, Kid knows he can’t stand and watch you forever, but he’s not willing to let you be alone anyway, so he makes his presence known. “Enjoyin’ yerself, lass?”

-*-

You spin around in the water, facing Kid through wet lashes, but surprise is only etched on your face for a split second. You knew he’d find you. 

“I was. Go away.” 

“I cannae do that. It’s my job, ye know that.” He crosses his arms and leans against a tree near your discarded clothes. “Besides, yer a sittin’ duck right now. Have ye learned nothin’?”

You turn away from him again with a tut, dipping your head back to get your hair wet. “I don’t need protection, Kid. Leave. I want to be alone.”

“I’m never leavin’ ya alone again, lass. Better get that straight into yer noggin.” You can hear him snicker as you splash your hands against the cold water, trying to chase your frustration away. “Enjoy yer little dip, while it lasts. I’m no’ leavin’.”

“Gods, Kid! You’re infuriating! Leave. Me. Alone.” You accentuate every word with another splash, but that just makes him grin more. 

“Ye dinnae have tae like me, but I thought ye’re used tae me by now.”

You stop thrashing, and he chuckles infuriatingly again. He thinks he’s won this round, but you’re about to serve vengeance on a cold platter. He doesn’t want to leave? Fine! But you’ll win this argument without uttering a single word. 

You turn back to him, defiance splattered all over your face as you gaze into his fiery, cocky red eyes. Without so much as a blink, you strut to the shore, baring your naked body to him without a hint of shame. 

You have to fight a victory smirk from gracing your lips when Kid pushes himself away from the tree, his arms falling limp at his sides as he follows you with his gaze. 

-*-

You want to kill him. That’s the only explanation he finds for what you’re doing at the moment. Because if it’s vengeance, it’s quite petty. Kid has to fight the urge to reach into his breeches and adjust his cock, which gets hard just by looking at you. The way you’re staring into his soul while baring yourself to him, water dripping over your body, your perky nipples shimmering and slick with water, walking with long, unapologetic strides. It’s too much.

Fuck.

He’s fought all kinds of men and beasts and never once did it occur to him to surrender. But to you, he’d fall on his knees and beg, and that is the scariest thought he’s had in a while. Kid clears his throat as you approach him, your chin raised in that regal way about you that he both loathes and admires.

“What are ye doin’?” He barely recognizes his own trembling voice. It’s like he’s a boy again, pissing himself while facing an enemy on the battlefield. 

“I told you I don’t need protection.” You take another step, and it takes all of his willpower not to thread his fingers through your dripping wet hair, grip it and pull it back until your throat is vulnerable, and then crash his lips against yours. Kid bets you’d taste delicious. 

“Aye.” Not his smartest answer. Not even an answer, really, and you must know you have the advantage because the smirk that curves your lips is both infuriating and endearing. Then you move closer, almost as if you’re going to whisper something to him, and as all the blood rushes to his cock and his heart thrums in his ears, all Kid can think about is how your soft skin would feel against his rough and calloused hands, or how your moans would sound whispered against his ear. 

He holds his breath and you lean in. Your perky nipple grazes his arm and burns like the hottest of fires, undoubtedly etching and scorching a mark on his skin, something that digs deeper than his ugliest scars. It’s like the moment freezes in time, the air shifting into something heavier and more dangerous. His fingers itch to touch you and his hands almost move of their own volition to fulfil a desire fueled by his loins. Then you break the moment by bending and grabbing the clothes next to his feet, pulling the dress over your head and batting your lashes at him innocently.

“Problem?”

His jaw clenches and unclenches three times before he deems it safe to speak. “Stop playin’ with fire, lass.”

Your smirk grows wider as you slowly pass your arms through the sleeves, bouncing your breasts and revelling in the way Kid’s eyes wander and linger. “Maybe I like to get burned.”

-*-

Shit. Where did that come from? Other than the bottomless pit of desire currently fueling your loins?

He takes a step back, raking his fingers through his hair as his hand reaches for the front of his breeches, making you bite your lower lip in anticipation. But instead of unfastening them and slamming his cock into your dripping self, he shuts his eyes and curses. “We’re leavin’. Get dressed.”

Turning to leave, he doesn’t even give you a chance to reply as he walks towards the edge of the forest, stopping and waiting for you with his back turned. You take deep, steadying breaths and will your heart to calm down, lest it jump right out of your mouth.

Does it still count as a victory if you feel like shit from being rejected?

-*-

This party had been planned for a year, back when the war had just started and the vaults were still full. Now, in your opinion, it was a waste of money, food, and time. But your father was adamant about hosting it, as it was meant to serve as a courtship of the lairds and their sons to you.

You had to choose a husband –a strategic alliance– so your father could secure more money and soldiers for the war effort. You knew where your father could shove the potential suitors, but you couldn’t find a way to get out of the party, so here you were, enduring yet another speech about the feats and achievements of another stuck-up man.

You wore crimson tonight. A dark, deep, lavish red gown that matched the intensity of your rage towards this event. A red that coincidentally matched the fiery hair of your guard. 

Speaking of Kid, you had yet to lay eyes on him, but you knew he wasn’t far. Your father had given him the day off, but he had stayed true to his infuriating declaration of never leaving you alone again, even when he was blatantly dismissed. So, you were sure he was, or would be, around. The only time he was away from you was when you slept. 

You manage to fight yet another urge to roll your eyes as another man approaches you out of nowhere, invading your personal space with what they all believe are charming words. Every one of them makes you want to gag. 

“My lady, you look as beautiful as the loch outside.” 

Now you can’t stop the eye roll, even if you wanted to. “Truly? Cold, stinking of fish, and green?” The man stammers, a hint of red spreading across his pale cheeks, and you sigh. “Excuse me, I’m needed… elsewhere.”

Anywhere else.

Two more steps, one more drink, and another idiot. “My lady, the skies must have lost a star, for your beauty is far too radiant for mere mortals.”

You raise your brow as the corner of your lips threatens to curve up. “Is that so, my lord? Are you implying that I’m the reason the sky looks so dim tonight?” This man stammers just like the one before and a chuckle escapes your lips before you excuse yourself and turn away, leaving him flabbergasted.

Gods, you just want this torture to end. 

“Are you not tired of these fools, my lady? Perhaps a reprieve would do you good?”

Another one already? Is it too much to ask for a moment of peace?

“A reprieve? Are you offering sanctuary in my own home, my lord?” You look him in the eyes as the corner of your lips rises. He’s quite handsome: dark hair, tanned skin and a beautiful smile. 

“I was merely suggesting an escape plan, away from all the lochs and stars.” You chuckle, and he seems encouraged to continue. “I assure you, my company comes without any celestial expectations.”

“Aye, I see that. Does it come with that charming wit, or was it a one-time event?” He offers his arm, and you take it, actually impressed by him. 

“For your company, my lady? I will gladly put forth my best efforts.”

-*-

You didn’t even realise he was at the party, Kid is sure of it. He’s keeping to the fringes, a mug of ale in his hand, as his sharp eyes follow you everywhere. Just because your father gave him the night off doesn’t mean he’ll skip his duties. Especially when you’re his duty. 

He’s been spending all of his time growling into the mug, clenching it so tightly he’s bound to break it before the night ends. These fools keep approaching you with their charming words and honeyed speeches. 

He has to admit, though, you’re handling everything quite well, and he’s found himself rather entertained by the look on the face of each suitor you reject. Deep down, he’s hoping that he’s the reason you keep rejecting them, but he quickly dismisses that thought.

Especially because his entertainment suddenly turns sour. 

A posh-looking laird approaches you –again with sweet and charming words, things Kid would never say to you– and you have the gall to laugh. To actually laugh at what the bastard said. And then you take his arm as he leads you to a more secluded part of the ballroom so you can speak.

The distinct burn of jealousy courses through Kid’s veins, and he doesn’t quite know what to do about it. It’s not his place to go over there and demand–... what? That the man leave you alone? He’s not even doing anything wrong, he’s just talking to you. 

And you’re laughing again. Fuck.

He grips the mug tighter, the ale suddenly much more bitter than it should be. He needs to keep his shit together, though. You’re a noble lady, you’re going to marry, and he won’t have any say in it. Better to keep distancing himself like he was trying to do. Even if it kills him.

-*-

You excuse yourself from the laird’s company after a while. Sure, he’s handsome, witty, a sweet talker, and has the right kind of armies. But he’s not… it. 

With a loud sigh, you reach for another mug of ale, willing the night to end quickly so you can tell your father it was a complete and utter disaster. Will he still force you to choose a husband, though? Or will he simply force one on you? That is the real question. 

But your thoughts are soon diverted when you feel a prickling at the back of your neck, that tingling, warm sensation you’ve come to associate with Kid.

“I knew you couldn’t stay away long. Free ale and pretty ladies?” You smirk smugly as you turn around to meet the slightly disgruntled gaze of your guard. “I don’t know how you haven’t come down sooner.”

“Lass, I’ve been on yer tail since ye left yer room.” He snickers, but you can see it’s forced. “Havin’ fun?” The way he crosses his arms seems charged with tension, he’s angry at something. 

“So much fun, Kid. Something you’re unfamiliar with, I guess. It’s when people laugh because they’re entertained. You know,” you reach and lift his cheeks upwards so his lips curve into a grimaced smile. “Kind of like that, but less scary and… constipated.”

“I laugh.” He grumbles, swatting your hands away.

“Do you?”

“When yer not pissin’ me off.”

Now you laugh. “Right, never then!” You’ve seen him amused, with that annoying smirk he uses and the way his eyes crease a little bit. But you haven’t heard a real, genuine laugh. “I doubt you’re even capable of such a thing.”

You both saunter into a corner of the room, where Kid leans against the wall and you sway on your feet, tired of sitting down. 

“Maybe I dinnae have reasons tae smile.” Cryptic much? What’s he talking about? His scowl deepens as he locks eyes with someone and you follow. It’s the laird from before, the charming one. Is Kid jealous? “So, is he the chosen one?”

He is jealous.

“Maybe. He’s charming enough and knows the right things to say.”

“Never thought ya needed tae be sweet-talked.” He crosses his arms and averts his gaze from the laird with a scowl but doesn’t look back at you. 

“Sometimes it’s nice to feel wanted.” You tease, but you mean it.

“Wanted? By him?” He pushes away from the wall, indignation written on his face, his intense energy turning the air around you heavier, stifling, and making your heart pound violently with anticipation. 

“At least somebody wants me. That might be enough to make me want to marry him.”

“Ye cannae do that.” He growls, taking a towering step towards you and suddenly you don’t know if you should feel aroused by his behaviour or angered that he thinks he has a say in your life. 

“I do whatever the hell I want, Kid. You don’t tell me what to do.” You step towards him too, the party fading into the background as if you’re the only people there. The space between you seems small and cramped, tight with tension and need. “You don’t own me.”

The hot puffs of breath coming in ragged feel warm against your face, and you can see just how sharp his canines are as he bares his teeth at you.  He’s all growls and grunts, a litany of sounds that vibrate straight into your cunt. Fuck. You need him. 

The clenching of his hand is a dead giveaway to how much he wants to touch you, but you can tell he’s holding back. You can count the passing of time by the way his jaw ticks, and the fire in his eyes burns straight into your soul. “Yer mine, lass.” 

The words make you gasp, and he’s also startled by them as you both take a step back. The tension flutters and fades, and the noise from the party resumes all around you. What did he say?

“Tae protect. Mine tae protect.” He adds quickly, his voice hoarse as he averts his eyes. 

The seconds stretch as you’re left speechless. You can see a war being waged somewhere deep inside him, there’s a fury in his eyes with an intensity that speaks volumes and only adds stiffness to his bulky frame. 

“Aye.” You say, voice strained and a sarcastic quip at the tip of your tongue. “Just to protect. Got it.”

Kid grunts, his eyes searching yours again. “I’m yer guard.”

“I know.”

“That’s all.”

“I know.”

“It cannae be more.”

“I know!” You raise your voice as you turn your back on him, dropping the mug on the nearest table and storming out of the room, but not before adding with as much authority as you can muster. “Do not dare follow me!”

-*-

Where the hell did you go? Kid’s heart races in his chest as he turns left and right. You disappeared on him after he blurted out the stupidest shit he’d ever said in his life –even if it was true. You were just there, and then… you weren’t. 

Fuck.

He knows well enough that these big parties are the playground of assassins, and your father is a man many people want dead at the moment. For lack of that option, since he’s well-guarded, taking you is the next juicy prize. And now you’re nowhere to be seen. Or protected.

When Kid finds you, he’ll choke you with his bare hands for this stupid stunt. 

He scans the gardens since you’re not inside the party, and he feels a mix of relief, anger, and indignation when he sees you at the edge of the forest near the gate. He’s definitely going to kill you if you’re sneaking outside for a midnight encounter with that prick.

Wedding match be damned to hell.

-*-

You just had to leave and get some air. It wasn’t even just the argument you had with Kid, or the sudden realisation that you and he were miles apart, even when you were so close. It was the stuffy ballroom, those insufferable suitors, the loudness of the music, and the expectations on you. It was all too much. You thought about retiring to your room, but there were sure to be guards on the stairs, and you doubted your father would let you leave so early. So you moved to the grounds where it was quiet.

You just want peace. Is it too much to ask for?

“Here you are, my lady. I’ve found you. And look, all alone, the possibilities are endless for our night.” You sigh at the lecherous suitor who followed you –the one who spewed the loch remark. You must have hurt his feelings, because he looks ready to snap your neck, or worse. 

Is it wrong that you don’t fear him? Or that you don’t even feel the need to reach for your hidden daggers? You don’t quite know when this happened, but as insufferable as he is, you trust Kid fully, wholeheartedly, and you know, you just know, he’ll never fail you. 

“Get the fuck away from her before I make ye piss yer pants, bastard.”

A smirk curves your lips upwards. You knew it. He’s always there. The man leaves with a shriek, and you face Kid, not really in the mood for more bickering, but of course, that’s all he wants to do. 

“The hell were ye thinkin’, lass, leavin’ the party all alone and–” You don’t even let him finish the sentence. Fuck bickering, fuck fighting, fuck it all. Your fingers grasp his shirt as you pull him down towards you with all the strength you possess, lips crashing against each other with urgency and desire. 

It took an entire evening of wrongs –wrong men, wrong words, wrong faces, wrong accent– just to make you realise that the right one was beside you all the time. 

The kiss is unbridled, hungry, and desperate. A clash of not just tongues and lips, but of wills and stubbornness. It’s the culmination of all the little arguments, of all the bickering and of all the tension that enveloped both of you since you met.

You pull him closer, hands climbing his neck and tugging at his fiery hair. He’s so rigid that it’s as if he went into shock when you kissed him. The only thing that proves it wrong is the way he’s devouring your mouth. And then, with a soft thud as he releases his axe to the floor, he moves – desperately!

Kid’s hands grip your hips, and he pushes you against a tree, forcing the air out of your lungs with a wanton moan. His body presses against yours, clinging to you as if you’re about to run away from him again. It’s like he needs you with all his soul, and he’s showing you exactly that. 

His kiss is, at the same time, everything you’ve imagined –consuming, heated, furious– and nothing like it. It sends lightning coursing through your veins, igniting them with pent-up energy that demands release. Kid’s hands roam, climbing up your body and cupping your face, deepening the kiss even more, making you feel as if you are drowning in him. 

You’ve never been kissed like this before, as if you’re the only thing that matters and he’s afraid to let go. It’s daunting, but also comforting.

Kid pulls back after what feels like too little time, pressing his forehead against yours, his hands still cupping your cheeks as your panting breaths mingle, and you lose yourself in his fiery gaze.

“Ye drive me insane, lass. Ye’ll be the death of me.”

“I could say the same of you.” He doesn’t let you go and neither do you. Your hands press against his chest, nimble fingers untying the strings of his shirt as he smirks at you.

“Needy, are ya, lass?”

He’s not wrong.

“I am. Kiss me again.” And he obeys you. For once since he’s been stationed as your guard, he obeys you. His lips even more urgent than before, his hands groping and feeling every inch of you as you slither your fingers under his clothes, tracing his taut muscles and the roughness of his scars.

“Fuck, ye want me dead. That’s what this is.” But he doesn’t stop. He bites your lower lip and kisses your jawline, moving lower to your neck, his teeth grazing against the sensitive spot there. His mouth parts as he murmurs more words against your skin in his low, rough Scottish brogue that makes you weak in the knees.

You grip his hair, pulling him closer as your head falls back in abandon, and a soft moan escapes your lips when he sucks particularly harshly against the hollow of your throat.

“Do that again.” His tongue licks from your neck up to your ear, and the involuntary whimper leaves your lips again. “Fuck.” Raising his hands, he pulls the neckline of your dress down, baring you to him as he keeps muttering low, a litany of words you can’t make sense of and could very well be prayers or curses. Then he cups your breast, his thumb grazing against your nipple as you arch into his touch, seeking his touch, begging for more.

“More.” You whisper as he leans to roll your nipple against his teeth, making you shiver, a combination of hot and cold, pain and pleasure, that leaves you breathless and dizzy. “More, Kid.” Your fingers dig into his shoulders, and your nails bite into his skin in a desperate attempt to have more of him, like you’re requesting.

“Gods, lass. Tell me ye want this.” He groans, his hands already tugging at your skirts, lifting them up. “Tell me ye want me.”

“Aye, Kid, aye! I want you.” Your words are a mere whisper. They’re as hot and desperate as you feel. You need him now.

It’s all the confirmation he needs because, in the next moment, your skirts are pulled all the way up against your hips, and his rough, big fingers find you wet and wanting, ready for his touch.  He parts your lips, inserting one finger with a low, hot groan against your ear, and you arch your body to his touch, a small gasp of pleasure cutting through the silent night. “So tight for me, lass.”

He inserts another finger into your slit and then slides them in and out with slow, languid strokes as you cry out his name. You’ve wanted to feel him touch you for so long, but, somehow, you never imagined it would feel this amazing. “Mine.” He bites into your throat as you arch your head, riding his fingers and feeling heat pooling in your belly. “All mine.”

You can’t even argue with him, all your brattiness and fight lost at the tips of his fingers. 

“Gods, Kid, please!” Your head falls forward as you pant into his ear. His fingers feel amazing, but you need more, so much more. “Please!”

Kid uses his weak arm to free his pants and take out his cock, pumping it twice and groaning as he keeps fingering you, his thumb pressing against your clit and sending wave after wave of heat down your legs.

When he removes his fingers, you whine softly, but as his hands grip your thighs and he lifts you up as if you weighed nothing, you gaze into his eyes in anticipation. “Lass–”

“Yours.” It’s all you say before he even asks if you’re sure about this. His eyes darken, and he thrusts forward, inserting himself inside you, stretching you, filling you up completely to the point where you don’t even know how you’ve gone all these years without him to make you whole.

A loud cry of his name leaves your lips as he bottoms out and stands still, waiting for you to accommodate his size. His lips brush against your neck as he feels the way your pulse flutters against his tongue and your cunt throbs around his sheathed cock.

“Easy, lass. Breathe for me, aye?” As you relax in his grip, he pulls back, only to thrust harder, making you cry again. You’re right at the edge, feeling your legs tingling, your coil ready to snap and send you into bliss. “All mine.” He keeps repeating, maybe trying to prove it to you, to stake his claim, but he’s right. You’re his, all his. And you never want to be anyone else’s.

He thrusts harder again, hitting you just right, and you lose yourself in his hold, bare back scraping against the harsh bark of the tree as you cry your release into the night in the form of his name and broken moans. “Fuck, ye feel so good, lass. So good. Scream my name again!” He says, and you’re pretty sure you’re going to do it sooner than you thought, because the warm waves of pleasure are still making you shiver and tingle, and you’re already feeling the build-up of another wave ready to crash over you.

Kid never stops.

“Again, aye? One more?” You nod, your breaths increasing as his thrusts become faster, sloppier and needier.

“Gods, Kid, just like that, I’m–”

“Aye, lass, let it out for me.” He grunts against the curve of your neck as he steadies his arm against your back to hold you with his strong arm, using the other hand to circle and pinch your clit.

Another cry leaves you, the intensity of the bliss much greater than the one before, as your mewls and moans sing into the night. Kid follows you over the abyss right after with a few sloppy thrusts, and you’re both left heaving harsh breaths, tangled in sweaty limbs and bliss. 

Why the fuck didn’t you do this sooner?

Tag list: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @takamimami

|Part 3|

[the-legendaryphoenix]

In the Pines/The Longest Train

So... About 2 months ago, I began looking into the history behind an Appalachian folk song "In the Pines." It's a rather... slow, moody, and creepy song that can easily be interpreted to represent dark topics such as depression, promiscuity, and some other topics relating to misery. Most often, what the song represents is tied to whatever variation you're listening to - which there are a lot of. Nirvana; Bill Monroe; Lead Belly; and so many more artists have created variations of this same song, In The Pines. It's quite amazing how many people have contributed to it over the years. However... the person who first wrote or composed the song has been completely lost to history. History notes that it came from southern Appalachia in about the 1870's... but that is the extent of what we know. That doesn't mean we're completely in the dark though! One of the variations of the song, The Longest Train, mentions a train going down "That Georgia Line" which some other variations replacing the line with "Joe Brown's coal mine". That obviously refers to Joseph E. Brown; Joseph was former confederate governor of Georgia infamous for leasing convicts out to coal mines in north Georgia. One of these mines - owned by him of course- was a mining town by the name of Cole City in Dade County. Why is this location important? You'll see.

The Longest Train (or some early variations) goes on to mention a decapitation caused by a train in which "the body was never found". So... a coal mine back in the late 19th century obviously would have needed a lot of trains and mine carts running around to transport convicts and supplies and goods around. Also given that these were convicts - most likely African -you can imagine that those trains and mine carts weren't exactly ... safe, to put it lightly. I dug a while between 19th century mining records and train accidents from around the same time. But... I couldn't find anything concrete. It was only when I started looking for articles about the Dade County Coal mines that I came across a blogpost made by dadecountycheerleeder1 in the Dade County Historical Society forums. It seemed to copy and paste a 2014 article; which, in turn, transcribed an 1886 article about the coal mines in the county. And OH BOY, were the trains dangerous. A mention is made of an incident in which a cable train broke and "there was not enough of the little cars left to make a decent toothpick." The 1886 article then goes on to say what the convicts do at the mines every day, as well as the story of a convicted killer working there. Remember how The Longest Train mentioned a head getting decapitated by a train? Yeah... It's reasonable to assume that something like that actually happened at the mine; but it was never reported or written down. The convicts working at the coal mine might have also prompted some of the concerned parents living in the local town to warn their children to never go "in the pines... where the sun don't ever shine." Of course, this is just my idea. And... it draws on a lot of circumstantial evidence. However, it's interesting to think that one of the only remnants of misery and feelings is a song that got passed down from generation to generation. History might have forever forgotten the names and faces of those attached to the creation of this song... they still live on through it's lyrics and medley. Link to Dade County Historical Society blogpost: https://dchsga.wordpress.com/2018/02/25/hell-with-the-lid-off-dade-coal-mines-1886/ other sources used: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/In_the_Pines https://www.nytimes.com/1994/11/13/arts/pop-music-a-simple-song-that-lives-beyond-time.html?pagewanted=1 https://georgia-exhibits.galileo.usg.edu/spotlight/convict-labor/feature/industrialization-of-the-new-south http://daysgoneby.me/moving-in-a-covered-wagon/

[warmblanketwhump]

Hello! Not a prompt but I've seen people sharing their whump awakenings; I hope you don't mind if I share mine! There was an episode of Teen Titans called "Haunted" that I watched over and over again as a kid. It focused on Robin seeing an enemy and even getting physically hurt by him whenever he turned off the lights or he was alone and the others couldn't figure out why, assuming that he was just having a paranoid fit. He couldn't relax and certainly couldn't sleep, so he was more and more vulnerable to attacks as the episode went on.

There's more emotional whump than physical but that's always been my jam anyway, and I'm an absolute sucker for sleep deprivation so even as a lil baby I adored it. Also they get rid of the source at the end and Robin gets to sleep and feel safe (well, safer, he's still a little wound up) so you know my little heart exploded!! I'd forgotten all about it until I rewatched it tonight!

as an emotional whump fan this sounds like MY JAM 🤩 I’ve never seen this show but I can definitely relate to all the whumpy moments in kids’ shows I loved when I was growing up.

honestly might have to go find this episode because it sounds amazing??? like the idea that they’re scared and sleep deprived and can’t rest just sounds…incredible

thank you for sharing!!!!