#there are two wolves inside you. one wants to protect and make people happy. the other wants you to take care of yourself | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dreamerstreamer · 4 years ago

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Into The Woods

Pairing: werewolf!Dream / Clay x human!gn!reader

Summary: [Werewolf!AU] It’s love at first sight when you move into a quaint, little house by the forest’s edge, but you soon find that there’s more waiting for you in the woods than you originally thought.

Word Count: 10k

A/N: my third commissioned story! this work has been altered so everyone can read it, but the plot remains the same. this story was a blast to write, and i hope you all enjoy it! <3

With a step back and a firm tug, the back door slammed shut with a satisfying click. You grinned as you turned the key in the lock. Slipping the silver keyring into your pocket, you turned on your heel, your gaze sweeping over the vast open forest that stretched out before you. Viridian green leaves loomed over the earth, standing in stark contrast to the clear, cerulean blue sky that stretched across the horizon overhead. On the ground below, the occasional wildflower sprouted up and out of the earth, their soft petals shyly unfurling and fluttering in the warm summer breeze.

For such a lovely view, you never would have guessed that you would be able to afford a place like this for so cheap.

Then again, Elmwood Ridge wasn’t a particularly notable town. Best known for its countless acres of elm forests and the large lake that laid at its centre, the town had become something of a nature reserve unto itself, despite being anything but. It was a quiet, quaint region, somewhere you had always distantly dreamed of visiting, if only because of its peaceful atmosphere. You never thought that you would end up living there, though.

It had been a split second decision made on impulse, and looking back, maybe it wasn’t the smartest move you’d ever made, but you didn’t regret one bit. Your new house was two stories tall and built with lovely stone bricks that looked like they came right out of a fairytale. The triangular sloping roof hung just over the sides of the house to provide some shelter from the rain, and the second floor had two balconies—one in the front and the back. Needless to say, you were sold in a heartbeat. Not only was the house pretty, but so was the price tag. You vaguely remembered hearing something about complaints of noisy wolves in the forest, but you weren't deterred. A little noise never killed anyone, and you were more than happy to share your space with nature.

Hopping down the back steps, you gently tread across the soft grass, careful not to step on any flowers as you walked. After moving in two days ago, you had planned to take the day off to hike and learn all that you could about your new backyard. You would head into town tomorrow and look for a job then—right now, all you wanted to do was explore and appreciate your new home.

Gazing up at the rustling elm leaves one last time, you smiled to yourself before stepping out of your lawn and into the forest.

In the distance, a faint howl rang out across the trees.

Between stretches of chestnut wood, a flash of tawny brown and golden fur dashed across the earth, powerful paws pushing off the ground with each leap. Landing atop a fallen log, the wolf raised his head, his muzzle raised toward the sky as he inhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring.

Fresh. Clean. Warm. The faintest scent of flowers.

He exhaled, emerald eyes blinking as he scanned the open forest around him.

Carrying out routine morning patrols around the pack’s territory was one of the alpha’s many duties, but Clay still wasn’t quite used to it.

Stepping down from the log, he let his tongue hang out of his mouth, his ears flicking as he took in every sound. Somewhere above him, a bird flapped its wings, chirping as it took flight. Along the breeze, he could pick up the distant scent of deer coming from the south. His eyes flashed at the smell. He would have to report that to the pack when he returned—it had been a few days since they last had a large hunt. Sniffing one last time, he began weaving between the looming trunks, his entire body rapt with focus.

He had only been appointed as alpha a little less than a month ago, and although he had technically been taught the ropes, it took more than just a few lessons for a wolf to truly become alpha. He could still remember how the former alpha had pressed his nose to his side, nudging him onto the rock peak in front of his pack with an aging howl. He had been getting older, and everyone knew it—it was only a matter of time until a new leader was selected, but Clay never would have dreamt he would be the one who was chosen.

Only a few people were as surprised as he was, though. He was one of the larger wolves in the pack, and while he wasn’t the tallest in his human form—that title belonged to the young, curious Ranboo—he was by far the strongest, having led more than his fair share of hunts before. It was only natural that he ended up in his position, and he was welcomed into the upper ranks with open arms.

A glimmer of warmth washed over him at the memory, and he would have smiled if he wasn’t shifted. He had never felt such pride before, feeling everyone’s excited gazes on him as he howled up at the gleaming, full moon. The shouts that filled the starry night sky made his heart swell in his chest, and he just knew he was going to do his best to make everyone proud. He would protect them to the ends of the earth, if he had to.

Kicking away a stray branch, his eyes quickly flicked over his surroundings. He recognized this area, and he knew that he had almost completed a full circle around the pack’s perimeter, by now. There was only a tiny stretch left before he would return to the camp and fill everyone in. Raising his head, he let his jaw fall open to catch any aromas that travelled along the breeze.

All of a sudden, a new scent wafted over his nose, an unsettling sense of unfamiliarity striking deep within his core.

There was something in the woods—something that did not belong here.

In an instant, Clay’s lips were pulled back in a snark, his sharp canines bared as he sank his paws into the soil below. His claws latched onto the dirt, his grip firm and unwavering as he pressed himself closer to the ground, careful not to let his scent travel in the air.

They weren’t common, but every now and then, hunters would venture into the woods with their heads held high and guns drawn. Most of them came hunting for game, shooting down the occasional deer or elk to bring back to their own families. Clay didn’t have a problem with those hunters, but as for the ones who came in search of wolves?

Clay wasn’t sure he could be so lenient with those ones.

Prowling forward, he kept his haunches low, his tail brushing over the shrubbery as he took step after step toward the strange, new scent. Ever so slowly, he crept closer, his pupils dilated in focus. Suddenly, he stopped, freezing in place.

He could hear footsteps.

Inhaling deeply, he let his eyelids fall shut.

One, two, three...

His eyes shot wide open, and he whipped his head up, only to go stock still as a silhouette came into view.

It was a person, a regular person.

He blinked as he lifted his head, his expression growing neutral as he watched you crouch down to examine a small pile of stones stacked beside a tree, one that he vaguely remembered being made by Tommy and Tubbo when they went exploring a few weeks ago. There was no gun strapped to your body, no pack hanging off your hips as you rose back up to your feet. You didn’t seem to be a threat at all, and from the back, he couldn’t tell if you were even carrying a weapon.

Just then, you turned to the side, and he felt his breath hitch in his throat.

The world suddenly fell away, his surroundings melting into nothing more than a hazy blur as his eyes locked onto your face. His heart came to a screeching halt in his chest.

You were beautiful.

The light framing your lovely face made your cheeks seem all the more lively as you rose. He watched as you brushed your fingers delicately over the bark of a tree, your brilliant eyes meticulously tracing over the curve of every leaf as you walked past. Your feet never lingered in one place for long, constantly moving and skittering across the forest floor like a rippling stream. It was almost as though your every movement cast streaks of dappled sunlight everywhere you stepped, the marvelling spark flickering in your gaze making his head spin with wild abandon.

Clay felt something warm and tight curl against his insides, unmistakably soft and affectionate. It was almost hard to breathe with the way his lungs squeezed and shook behind his ribs. He hadn’t felt this feeling before, but he had heard enough stories to know exactly what it was.

His mate—you were his mate.

There wasn’t any one way to truly describe what a mating bond was, but the most commonly accepted one was that it was a connection that tied people’s souls together, uniting them in perfect harmony. Every werewolf had a mate, and most of the time, they would find their mate in another one of their kind. But right now, as Clay stood in the forest, his gaze glued to the most beautiful human he had ever laid eyes on, he knew that he wasn’t going to find his mate in some other shifter like everyone else had said he would.

Having a human for a mate was rare at best, and unheard of at worst. After all, not every human had a mate, and he had heard stories of shifters being rejected by their human mates. Some of the elders in the camp still refused to believe that having a human mate was even possible, but nearly all of the younger shifters had accepted it—embraced it, even. But never in his pack, at least, had someone learned that their mate was a human.

It looked like he was going to be the first.

For a few long moments, he simply stood there, watching you silently with wide eyes as you slowly made your way deeper down the path. A part of him wanted to chase after you, yearned to walk by your side for as long as his legs would let him. But as soon as he raised his paw, he quickly lowered it again, a pang of guilt shooting through him.

He couldn’t go up to you—not like this, and most certainly not now. He didn’t have nearly enough experience under his belt as an alpha yet, and bringing you to his world could just make everything even worse if he wasn’t careful about it. He swallowed, taking a single step back as you slowly slipped out of view, disappearing into the trees and carrying your lovely scent away with you.

Anxiety gnawed at the inside of his gut, and he couldn’t help but wonder if you would even return. Surely you must live around here to be hiking in these woods—maybe you would hike here again, if not even more often.

He paused, then nodded to himself before whipping around, his tail swishing behind him as he clenched his jaw.

Tomorrow. He would come back tomorrow.

A few feet deeper within the trees, the sound of a stick snapping shattered the forest’s silence.

Along the lightly-treaded path, you whirled, your head pointing toward the sharp sound. Pausing, you raised your head, your gaze darting to the forest canopy above. The sun peaked down at you between swaths of vibrant green, and you squinted, raising a hand to shield your eyes. The trees remained quiet around you, only whispering with the soft rustles of their leaves.

A moment passed in silence. A robin warbled.

You let out a long exhale and shook your head. Turning once more, you stepped over a small crack in the ground, humming as you walked further into the woods.

It was probably nothing.

Sapnap grunted as he dropped the pile of sticks onto the ground, the wood clattering at his feet in a heap. He scowled at the sight, resisting the urge to kick the pile down. He couldn’t believe Wilbur had actually tricked him into doing something as simple as collecting firewood. It wasn’t difficult or anything, but he was the beta, for crying out loud! He could have at least passed the buck to someone like Tommy, that brat.

“Sapnap.”

Sapnap blinked at the familiar voice, turning to find himself standing face to face with Clay. His dirty blond hair was disheveled atop his head, and his cheeks were flushed with heat. A smile tugged on his lips at the sight. “Oh, hey, Clay. Welcome back.” He squinted at the way Clay’s chest heaved, his breaths coming out shaky and uneven. “Um, you good, there? Did you run back here or somethi—”

“It happened,” Clay blurted.

Sapnap blinked, raising a single brow at him. “What happened?”

Clay swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I met my mate.”

Sapnap paused. “Oh. Oh.” A wide grin stretched across his face, and he reached over to clap a hand to Clay’s back. “That’s awesome, man! I’m guessing it happened on your patro—”

“My mate’s human,” Clay said suddenly.

Sapnap paused again. “Oh. Oh.”

Letting out a deep sigh, Clay’s shoulders went slack at his side as he ran a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his scalp. “I, um,” he said, his words coming out in a hazy rush. “I don’t think I’m ready to—” He stopped, feeling Sapnap’s patient gaze rest on him, then opened his mouth, again. “I can’t just reveal our world so soon. I’ve only been alpha for what?” He gestured vaguely. “A month? I’m not experienced enough, yet.” He slumped forward, a hollow, wistful look settling onto his features. “It would be too much for both of us.”

Sapnap nodded thoughtfully, understanding flooding his face. “It’s okay, Clay. Take your time.” He fell silent for a brief moment, then quietly added, “Did you reveal yourself or anything?”

He shook his head. “Not at all. I was too surprised to even move.”

Sapnap’s lips quirked up into a tiny smile. “Then there’s no rush,” he said. “You’re allowed to build up your confidence first, dude. Your confidence as a wolf. As an alpha.” His eyes flashed with soft reassurance. “As a mate.”

Clay raised his head, blinking as Sapnap gently nudged his shoulder with his. “You can do this. Plus,” he added, his tone growing more lighthearted, “I’m your beta. You know I’ve got your back.”

The chuckle that escaped Clay’s lips was low and short, but he could already feel the tension seep out his shoulders like a leaking dam. “Thanks, Sap.”

Taking a step back, Sapnap hummed, offering him a lopsided smile. “Anytime.”

Clay turned on his heel, jerking his head toward the centre of the camp. “Well, I need to organize today’s hunt, but I’ll catch you later. I trust you’ll keep things under control while I’m gone.”

He nodded. “Of course—you know me.” With a short wave and a small grin, Clay began walking off in the opposite direction. “Oh, also,” Sapnap suddenly shouted after him, “don’t forget to grab something to eat before you go hunting today, yeah? I know you missed breakfast.”

Clay didn’t look behind him as he shot a thumbs up at Sapnap from behind his back, but Sapnap could already picture the way he would roll his eyes with a smile. Shaking his head, he turned back to the firewood scattered around his feet, a new glower creeping onto his face.

He was so getting back at Wilbur for this.

Every morning after, Clay dutifully woke up early and strolled deep into the woods, shifted into his wolf form as he scented the air and patrolled the area just as any good alpha would. But time and time again, that one sweet scent never seemed to return, almost as though it had vanished from the forest entirely. At times, he thought he caught the faintest whiff of it, but some further exploration would only reveal a small patch of flowers, never you.

Needless to say, his disappointment was palpable.

It had been a full week now, and Clay was running out of hope. Maybe he was wrong—maybe you wouldn’t ever come back. His heart ached at the thought.

He had been too hasty, wasn’t he?

Hanging his head, he whimpered to himself in the quiet forest, sniffing absentmindedly as he ambled about almost aimlessly. He still had a duty to fulfill, he knew, but he couldn’t ignore the empty feeling burrowing deeper and deeper into his chest.

But right then, just as he paced another few feet forward, he heard it.

A melody.

It was soft, the singing travelling down from the west in a distant murmur, or perhaps a hum. If he hadn’t been paying attention, he surely would have missed it. He didn’t know this song, didn’t recognize it one bit, but he could already tell that it was sweeter than any thrush’s song or any loon’s call. He felt his heart flip in his chest, and just like that, he knew.

In a flash, he was racing across the earth, his paws flying out beneath him in a blur as he ducked under branches and darted past deer, missing the way they startled at his sudden approach. The song was louder now, and he could smell it—smell you.

It was only a few seconds later that he came to a stop, his paws digging into the ground as his heart leapt into his throat.

Soft hair. Bright eyes. A dazzling grin.

You were back.

You had headphones on this time, he realized, and you were humming aloud to yourself, your feet most likely moving in time to the beat of whatever song you were listening to. You were a little off-key and occasionally stumbled over the refrain as it came around, but he found himself entranced nonetheless. Even when you were doing something as simple as humming, you were stunning.

Why come back today of all days? he distantly wondered to himself. What made today so different from any other day?

He wracked his mind as he felt the sun shine down on him gently, warming his back as he crouched down a little. He rarely kept track of the days—that was Sapnap’s job—but he knew that there hadn’t been any special events or holidays going on in the human world. Pressing his ears flat against his head, he scratched his paw at the ground in confusion. Just what made today so special?

That was when the realization slammed into him.

It had been a week since he last saw you.

Once a week—you must hike here once a week.

If he could smile in this form, he already knew that he would have the biggest, stupidest grin plastered to his face. He wanted to leap for joy and howl like there was no tomorrow, but he didn’t want to alert you of his presence just yet. Again, it had only been a week, and he was still far from being a worthy mate for you.

Once a week, he thought once more, his eyes glued to you as you skipped further down the trail and out of his sight. I can wait another week.

The wind sang in his ears as a gentle breeze brushed over his tawny fur, the forest murmuring a silent lullaby into his ear as he whirled back around. As much as he wanted to stay with you forever, he had a patrol to finish and a pack to defend. He let his eyelids flutter shut for the briefest of moments, your face engraved into the rosy crevices of his heart as your humming filled his ears once more.

He couldn’t wait to see you, again.

One week later, you grumbled to yourself as you stomped through the woods, complaining about your new job under your breath. Clay wished he could comfort you, but stayed put with his claws buried in the dirt.

Two weeks later, you watched with wide eyes as a doe and her fawn drank from a nearby stream. He made sure not to hunt those two down in particular later that week.

Three weeks later, you were snapping photo after photo with the camera hanging around your neck, your eyes absolutely brimming with curiosity. He thought you were prettier than any view the forest had to offer.

As one week stumbled into the next, the months began to pass in a blur. Summer collapsed into autumn as the leaves turned gorgeous shades of crimson red and golden orange before tumbling from the sky. Shortly after that, the forest was covered in a blanket of ivory white snow, leaving the branches bare and awaiting the return of spring. The snow soon melted into rain, and puddles littered the forest floor while flowers began to bud and bloom once more. In almost a whirlwind of seasons and waiting, summer rolled around once more, marking the first anniversary of your arrival in Elmwood Ridge.

With each passing season, Clay continued to watch you from afar with a tender gaze. Some days, he would listen to you hum as you trekked along while other times, he would only manage to catch the tiniest of glimpses of you between the trees. No matter how short the instance was, every second he got was well worth the wait, and Clay could feel his affection bloom like a new spring flower. As the trees grew larger, as did his confidence. Time was the best teacher the forest had to offer, and it didn’t take much longer for Clay to grow comfortable with his duty as the alpha of his pack. But despite his newfound strength, he still didn’t feel ready enough to approach you outright, to reveal himself to you as he was. Doubt swirled in his mind like a raging storm, eating away at him like a gnat digging through mud.

He was beginning to fear he may never be ready.

Lifting his head, he sniffed the air, the now familiar scent of his mate drifting across the new summer breeze. You were taking a new path today, he noted in an instant. Perhaps you were doing some exploring.

Padding through the trees, leaves crunched beneath his feet as he leapt over logs and puddles, following after your scent as it grew stronger and stronger. It only took a few moments for him to find you standing atop an elevated rock face, your head lifted as you gazed up at the light scattered between the tree leaves. Your face almost seemed to be glowing in the pale, morning sunshine, your eyes looking like two dewdrops as they curved into tiny crescents. Clay’s heart rattled in his chest, and he resisted the urge to howl to the heavens above.

You were lovely, his mate. If only he could work up the courage to properly tell you.

Basking in the sunlight, he watched as you took a few steps forward closer to the cliff’s edge, your eyes still trained on the sky above. It wasn’t a terribly deep fall, he knew, but the fall was most certainly far enough to hurt someone if they fell at the wrong angle. He narrowed his eyes as you stopped dangerously close to the edge, halting just a few inches from the drop. Surely the stone was strong enough to support your weight, even as old as it was, right?

Apparently not.

Clay saw the cliff crumble before you did.

Terror shot through his body like a bullet as he watched the rock face collapse under your shoes, your feet tumbling out beneath you. Your hands desperately reached for the cliff face, but he could tell from the way your scream cut through the forest’s silence like a sharpened blade that you weren't going to be able to grab it in time.

There was no time for him to think—his body moved first.

In one moment, he was standing with his mouth slack and his emerald eyes blown wide with horror. In the next, he was lunging across the rock face, his jaws wide open as he reached for the lower collar of your shirt. The moment he felt his nose brush against the back of your neck, he snapped his jaws shut, careful not to pierce your skin with his sharp canines as the cloth caught between his teeth. Your weight bounced beneath him once, and the gasp that escaped your lips made his head spin dizzily.

Close—you were so close, and your scent was intoxicating.

You turned your head ever so slightly, and he felt it the moment your eyes locked onto his. You were scared, he could tell, but as you took in the sight of the wolf holding onto you, you almost seemed to relax in his grip. Planting his paws firmly against the rocky earth, he tugged his jaw up and backwards, pulling you away from the cliff face and over even ground. Your hands scrambled to latch onto the cliff edge, helping to pull yourself up until finally, he let go of you, your now torn collar resting against the back of your neck.

Heaving a sigh of relief, you let yourself collapse against the rock face, lying on your back as you gasped for breath. Your chest felt tight like a wound-up spring, and adrenaline pumped through every vein in your body, yet you felt oddly calm. After a minute or two, you slowly pushed yourself forward on your arms until you were just barely slouching forward, looking over your shoulder. A few feet away from you, the wolf stood, his eyes trained intently on your face as you swallowed.

“Um,” you breathed, your eyes desperately scanning him up and down. “Hello?”

He didn’t say anything in return, simply shuffling further away from you. He was giving you space, you realized after a brief moment, and you blinked as you scrambled to sit completely upright. His fur was a soft, golden brown, and you had half the mind to distantly think that you wanted to run your fingers through it. Something about him seemed comforting like that.

“Hi,” you whispered once you were seeing him eye-to-eye. “Ah, um, thank you for saving me.”

Maybe you were just imagining it, but you could have sworn his eyes widened in an almost human-like manner. He didn’t move from his spot a few feet away from you, and you swallowed. You thought you would be more scared than this, more terrified of the beast standing before you. But as you sat there, watching as he blinked at you, you felt as though you were anything but. An unfamiliar yet strangely comforting warmth curled around in the pit of your stomach as you tilted your head at the wolf.

He felt so... safe. So familiar, almost like you had met him before.

“Are—are you a nice wolf?” you asked after another moment, your voice faltering the tiniest bit. “I’d like to think you’re a nice wolf, since you just saved my life.”

Once again, you were greeted by silence, the only indication that he had heard you at all being the way his ears flicked. What am I doing? you suddenly thought, your mind running at a million miles a minute. I’m talking to a wolf—an animal. I’m not a Disney character.

This was weird—or at least it was supposed to be. Yet, as you stared at this wolf who simply stared back at you with these bright, stunning green eyes, you couldn’t help but feel that everything in this moment was just perfect. Like you had been waiting your entire life for this moment to happen.

“You’re really pretty,” you suddenly blurted. In an instant, you were slamming your palm over your mouth, your cheeks flooding with heat. “Oh my god, that was embarrassing,” you murmured, your voice coming out muffled. “I’m sorry.”

Your heart hammered against your ribcage like a caged bird begging to be let out, and ever so slowly, you lowered your hands from your mouth, offering the wolf a shaky, sheepish smile. “Um, thank you, again,” you said gently, honestly. Leaning forward, you pressed your hands against the cool stone to balance yourself, your fingers digging into the rock as you spoke. “I don’t really know how you knew I was there or how you knew I was going to fall, but I really appreciate it.”

The wolf blinked at you once more, then took another step back, subtly dipping his head. Your smile widened at the sight. Pushing yourself upward, you rose to your feet, brushing off the dust from your frontside before standing upright, fidgeting almost nervously.

“I—I,” you stammered, suddenly feeling awkward, “I think I’m going to go home now, but...” You swallowed, raising your hand in a small wave as heat rose in your chest. “...thank you so much, again!”

Before the warmth in your heart could burst, you whipped around, sprinting away as fast as your legs could take you. You didn’t see the way the wolf practically crumbled into a ball on the ground, whimpering to himself as you disappeared out of sight.

Bolting down the hill and past the trees, branches blew past you in a blur as you dashed between the trunks and over patches of wildflowers. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears like a beating drum, and your chest felt oddly light. You couldn’t shake the memory of how intense that wolf’s gaze had been on yours, his eyes swirling with something that made your stomach churn and your mouth go dry.

He really was pretty.

Sapnap yawned as he stretched his arm behind his back and above his head, rolling his neck as the joint popped back into place with a satisfying crack. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept in like this, but he did not regret it one bit. Clay had given him the okay, after all. One late morning wouldn’t hurt anyone.

“Sapnap, you are not going to believe this.”

Sapnap yelped, whipping around with eyes as wide as saucers as he stumbled back a step. The drowsiness left his body in an instant, almost as though he had never been tired to begin with. Clay’s hand shot out to grab his arm, steadying him as he swallowed, relaxing once he realized who he was looking at.

“Holy crap, Clay,” he gasped, pressing a hand to his racing heart, “you scared me! I know you’ve gotten better at this whole stealth thing, but that was just straight up terrifyi—”

Clay’s grip on his arm tightened. “I saved them today,” he whispered.

Sapnap froze, and there was a beat of silence. “You did what, now?”

Just like that, Clay had flung his arms up and around his head, his fingers buried in his hair as he began to pace, his tone frantic and rushed. “There—there was this steeper area with this cliff but it was kind of hidden, and then it was breaking and I just knew something bad was going to happen, and I couldn’t just let that happen, so I moved without thinking and I was pulling them back and—”

A pair of hands suddenly grabbed onto his shoulders, stopping him dead in his tracks. “Breathe,” Sapnap instructed calmly. “You need to breathe, dude.” Clay opened his mouth, but Sapnap spoke before he could. “You are talking so quickly right now, and I can’t understand you when you talk like that.”

Clay closed his mouth, mulling over the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions steamrolling through his head. After a few moments, he finally spoke once more. “I still can’t believe it,” he murmured, suddenly sounding completely and utterly awestruck. “My mate actually stopped and thanked me. And called me pretty.”

Sapnap’s fingers loosened around Clay’s shoulders, a ghost of a smile gracing his lips. “Yeah?”

Clay sighed, sounding absolutely lovestruck. “Yeah.”

Pulling his arms back to cross them over his chest, Sapnap eyed him up and down, cocking his head. “So,” he began gently, “how are you feeling?” When Clay opened his mouth, Sapnap quickly added, “Slowly, please.”

Clay groaned, teasingly rolling his eyes before leaning back on his heels, rocking back and forth as he began to speak. “I only revealed myself as a wolf,” he said softly, “so I don’t know if they know about the mating bond yet. I don’t even know if humans can feel it like we can.”

He tilted his head back, gazing up at the cerulean blue sky. “But there’s something about the way we looked at each other that makes me feel like maybe, just maybe, humans can feel it,” he whispered, sounding breathless all at once. “Call it a gut feeling, I guess. I don’t know.” He cast a glance over at Sapnap, his eyebrows furrowed. “Do I sound crazy?”

A thoughtful look flickered across Sapnap’s face. Then, he grinned. “A little bit, yeah.”

Clay sighed, something he noticed he had been doing a lot more, lately. “I just…” He swallowed. “I just don’t want something like that to happen ever, ever again.”

Suddenly, he fell quiet, his lips parting as the wheels in his head began to turn. Sapnap watched as a tiny spark came to life within his focused gaze, small but oh-so vibrant.

“You got an idea there?” he prompted after a few seconds of silence.

Clay blinked once. Twice. Then, a smile stretched across his face—a smile as bright as the full moon.

“Something like that.”

It was probably a dumb idea for you to return to the forest for your weekly hike as if nothing had happened, but you couldn’t quite quench the curiosity that bubbled up inside you every time you thought about the wolf who had saved you. His gaze had been fiery, yet compassionate, and he had been purposely so gentle when tugging you away from the cliff. You weren't a fool—you knew how powerful a wolf could be. Then why did he treat you so kindly?

You had to find out.

Marching through the brush and shrubbery, you whipped your head this way and that, scanning every strip of forest you could lay your eyes on. Wolves were good at hiding, you knew that. After all, if they weren’t as stealthy as they were, they would never be able to catch a meal. But you had been hiking for almost an hour now, and you still hadn’t seen a single glimpse of the wolf. You couldn’t say you were completely surprised, since it wasn’t like you knew every inch of the forest, but you were frustrated to admit that you were at least a little disappointed. Maybe this was a lost cause.

But then, you heard it.

The sound of a stick snapping.

Freezing, you paused, turning as you glanced to the sides. Nothing out of the ordinary stood among the bushes. You stopped again, then pursed your lips.

No, something was there.

A tender curiosity sparked between your lungs, but it was coated in a thin layer of reluctance. Sucking in a deep breath, you whipped around, squinting at the seemingly empty trees around you as you opened your mouth.

“Wolf?” you called out slowly into the quiet. “Is that you?”

At first, all was quiet, and you held your breath. The leaves rustled around you almost tauntingly, and you distantly heard the caw of a crow. You were just about to give up and go home when a flash of gold caught your eye.

Standing motionless a single yard away was a wolf—your wolf.

A grin stretched across your face, joy surging through your body as you carefully took a few steps forward. Oh, this was definitely a dumb idea, but you was more than brave enough to keep going.

“Hi, there.” You shuffled your feet, a tentative look passing over your face. “You’re, um—” You gulped. “You’re not going to hurt me, are you?”

Clay’s eyes went wide, and he took a step back. No! he thought, hoping you would be able to read his expression, even as a wolf. Never. Not in a million years.

You stared at him for a long moment, blinking slowly as you scanned his face up and down. Then, your lips quirked up into the tiniest of smiles.

“No,” you murmured in the softest of voices, and he felt his heart melt in his chest. “If you were going to do something, you would have done it by now, wouldn’t you?”

Clay nearly sank in relief, and he barked. You raised a brow at the sound, furrowing your brows slightly. “Do you want me to keep you company?” you asked, beginning to walk up to him. “Is that what you’re doing?”

You had only made it a few steps when he suddenly barked again, taking a step toward you. In an instant, you froze, watching with bated breath as he curled around to your other side and gently nudged at your leg with his nose. You shot him a curious glance, stumbling forward the tiniest bit. “Hey,” you said, “what are you...?”

You trailed off, a cut rock face suddenly catching your attention from the corner of your eye. The stony grey wall was nearly perpendicular to the ground and looked almost eerily similar to the one you had nearly fallen down the week prior. Just like that, it clicked.

There was another small cliff right there. He was trying to keep you away from it.

“Oh,” you breathed, your lips splitting into an even wider grin as you made sure to steer away from the short cliff, “you don’t want me falling again, do you?”

He snorted, and you blinked at him. That sounded far more human this time—almost too human. It almost reminded you of a dog, if anything. A triumphant smile slowly crept onto your face, and with your head held high, you turned on your heel, marching onward and away from the rock face.

“Well, wolf,” you said, a teasing arrogance seeping into your tone as you glanced over your shoulder at him, “I promise you that I’ll be much safer this time arou—woah!”

The toe of your shoe caught on a protruding stone, and with a sharp yelp, you stumbled forward, gravity pulling you downward with a harsh pull. With a flail of your arms, you only just barely caught your balance as your hand shot out to grab onto a tree and steady yourself. Your heart flipped in your chest as you planted your feet firmly against the ground, the soles of your shoes pressed flatly against the earth as your fingers curled into the bark. Your chest heaved with surprise as you stood upright, turning to look over your shoulder at the wolf. He blinked at you, and while you knew wolves couldn’t quite smile, something about his gaze almost seemed cocky—like he was laughing at you. Heat crept up your neck and onto your face, your cheeks bursting with warmth.

“Y-You did not see that,” you sputtered, coughing into your sleeve as you brushed off your pants dismissively.

Almost as if to spare you some embarrassment, he turned his head away from you, although you could see his eyes glance your way every few seconds. Pouting, you huffed, whirling on your feet as you continued to trudge down the path. Soon enough, the sound of soft footsteps trailed after you, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sound, knowing that he would follow you even if you weren't looking.

That night, you dreamt of whispering trees and a pair of bright, viridian green eyes.

What had once been a weekly ritual of watching from afar soon turned into an amicable companionship between human and wolf. You weren't afraid as you walked into the woods to see a familiar pair of eyes waiting for you, your eagerness to see him only growing with each passing week. Clay himself could hardly contain his excitement. Actually walking beside you was so much better than simply watching from the woods, hidden by the trees. He loved your company and absolutely basked in your presence, even if you sent his heart into an absolute frenzy.

“Sometimes,” you said aloud one day, “I really do think you can understand me.”

Clay stiffened, praying you wouldn’t notice the way his ears pressed flat against his head as he turned to look at you. You sat on a tree stump while he padded atop the fallen trunk it sat beside, your gleaming gaze slowly blinking at him as he silently circled around you.

“I think it’s got something to do with the way you react to some of the things I say,” you murmured. You watched the way his tail flicked behind him, the soft fur brushing gently against the low-growing plants. A second later, you sighed, waving your hand. “Ah, I’m probably just imagining things.”

Clay nearly heaved a sigh of relief, continuing to pace. You would say surprising things like that every once in a while, and it would send his heart racing. Well, you usually only said one absurd thing per week, so you probably weren’t going to say another thing like that toda—

“Can I pet you?”

His paws came to a halt. Perhaps he thought too soon.

Before he could even properly process what you had said, You were backpedaling, shaking your head with an apologetic look. “Agh, that’s a terrible question. You’re a wolf, not a dog. There’s no way you wou—”

All of a sudden, he was crawling up to you, jutting his forehead toward your hand. His muzzle was clamped shut as his eyes bore into yours, and you gaped at him, the realization beginning to dawn on you.

“Wait,” you breathed in disbelief, “you’re actually going to let me?”

He didn’t move, lowering his eyes to the ground almost shyly as his ears curled toward you. Slowly, you raised your arm with a shaky hand and reached forward, letting your fingers gently brush over his tawny fur with a feather-light touch. You nearly gasped at the feeling, not noticing the way his legs trembled beneath him.

“Wolf,” you whispered after a few seconds, “you’re really soft.”

Clay nearly combusted on the spot. Perfect—everything about you was just perfect.

With your hand buried in his soft fur and the summer breeze ruffling your hair, You smiled, sighing with warmth lighting up your heart as the wolf at your feet melted beneath your touch.

Sapnap tapped his foot impatiently, squinting up at the glaring sun. George slept in, again. He was kind of used to it now, but even though he wasn’t surprised, he wasn’t afraid to admit that he was more than just a little ticked off.

“My mate pet me today.”

Sapnap tensed for a split second, turning to see Clay staring at him with wide eyes. Relaxing once more, he stared at him for a long, long moment before speaking. He really needed to start giving him some sort of heads up at this point.

“Dude,” he said, “I know that the last time you asked me if you sounded crazy, I said a little bit, but I feel like I might have to change my answer.”

Clay shot him a glare, and he couldn’t stop his lips from twitching in amusement. “Sapnap,” he said bluntly, “you act like you don’t talk about Karl and Alex like this.”

Sapnap looked taken aback for a moment, raising a finger, then lowering it with a defeated look. “Touché.”

As Clay walked off with his head held high and a bounce in his step, Sapnap chuckled, watching him leave with a small smile. He recognized the gleam in his eyes, the rosy hue of his cheeks.

Love—Clay really was in love, wasn’t he?

“I’ve been thinking,” you said one day, a few months later.

Clay perked up at the sound of your voice from where he lay at your feet, soaking in the first few rays of sun. It had been well over a year since he had first laid eyes on you now, and a little over a few months since you began walking together. It was only a matter of time until the leaves would turn golden brown once more as autumn descended upon them.

“I dunno,” you murmured, knocking your legs back against the stone you sat on. “I feel like I should give you a name instead of just calling you wolf all the time.” You flashed him a shy grin, your gaze darting this way and that. “It feels kind of awkward, you know?”

He cocked his head. A name? Chances were you probably weren't going to guess his actual name. He supposed he wouldn’t mind a nickname. Then again, he didn’t think he would mind anything that you might do. Lowering himself closer to the ground, he let out a quiet bark of approval.

Your lips twitched the tiniest bit at the sound, and you hummed, drumming your fingers against your thigh. “How do you feel about... Aaron?”

His emerald eyes flashed as he took a step back, ducking his head the slightest bit. Your lips pursed into a small pout, and you leaned down to rest your chin on your hand. “Alright,” you murmured, “not Aaron, then.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek for a second. “Roy?”

Clay didn’t even have to think about it for more than a second before he was whimpering, pressing his head to his paws as he dropped his haunches close to the ground. You snorted at his obvious disapproval, tapping the toes of your shoes together with a pensive look.

“Okay,” you said slowly, drawing out the vowel sound, “maybe we should try some less... human-sounding names.” You tilted your head, letting your gaze trail up the tree trunks and up at the sky above. The sun wasn’t shining directly into your eyes this time, and you blinked with surprise to see a puff of white fluff blocking out the light.

“What about,” you offered with a hum, “Cloud?”

You glanced down again, only to see the wolf staring back at you blankly. You couldn’t quite read the look in his eyes, but you had a feeling he wasn’t quite satisfied with this one, either. Lowering your chin, you puffed your cheeks, glancing this way and that across the forest around you. You couldn’t just call him something like Leaf, or Sky—those would be too obvious, too plain for a wolf as lovely as him.

Sighing, you let your eyelids flutter shut, letting the sun wash over your cheeks and warming your skin. He was... special, even if you knew you were biased in your opinion. There was some special quality about him, something that made your chest swell and your heart skip a beat, almost as if he came straight out of a—

“Dream,” you whispered at last.

Clay’s ears perked up at the new name, and he lifted his head, flicking his ears at you. Maybe it was the name itself, maybe it was the way you said it, or maybe it was just you, but something about it just felt right. He barked once, lifting his tail as he stepped toward you.

You blinked at the sight, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Dream?” you repeated. “You like the sound of Dream?”

He barked again, leaping up onto his hind legs for a moment. You grinned, giggling at the sight of such a large wolf acting almost like a dog around you. “Alright,” you murmured, reaching your hand out toward him, “Dream it is.”

Leaning closer to you, he sank into your touch as you rubbed your hand over his head, scratching behind his ears as he let out a soft whine from the back of his throat. Your eyes softened, and you curled your knees a little closer to your chest, resting your chin on them.

“It probably doesn’t matter to you since you’re a wolf and all,” you said softly, your voice almost sounding shy in the quiet of the morning, “but my name is [Y/N].”

Clay felt a tender warmth blossom in the cracks beneath his chest, heat unfurling from the depths of his soul as something inside him swelled beyond belief. Your hand continued stroking his fur all the while, not at all noticing the way he pressed his head a little closer into your soothing touch, yearning and longing for more.

“[Y/N],” his heart sang, shooting from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. “[Y/N], [Y/N], [Y/N].”

Had a name ever sounded as beautiful as yours?

Sapnap was going to wring Skeppy’s neck. Skipping out on a morning meeting was one thing, but skipping it to hang out with your mate? Not even he did that.

“[Y/N].”

Sapnap didn’t bother flinching as he turned to see Clay standing in front of him, panting like his life depended on it. This was far from the first time this had happened, and he was sure it most certainly would not be the last. “What?”

Clay shook his head, half-looking like he was about to collapse on the spot. “My mate’s name is [Y/N].”

Sapnap blinked, then his lips curled up into a smile. “Congrats for learning what it is, man,” he said honestly, patting Clay’s shoulder with his free hand. “That’s fantastic, really. You’re making progress.”

Clay swallowed, and he reached up to drag a hand down his face before letting it drop loosely at his side. “Sapnap,” he said slowly, his voice sounding quiet and raw, “I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”

Sapnap’s eyebrows knit together, confusion rippling across his features. “What do you mean?” he asked. “You can’t keep visiting?” Something uncomfortable and cold tugged at the back of his mind. “There’s no way you’re just gonna give up like that, are you?”

Clay’s jaw dropped. “What? No! I mean that...” He paused, squeezing his fist for a moment as he sucked in a deep breath. “I don’t think I can keep showing up in only my wolf form.”

The cogs in Sapnap’s whirred to life as he took in his friend’s clenched jaw. Then, his eyes went wide. “Are you saying...?”

Clay nodded, pursing his lips as he swallowed thickly. “I’m going to reveal who I am.”

His eyes flashed with determination.

“Who I really am.”

You hummed as you twisted the key in the hole, the back door locking shut with a click you had grown used to hearing every week for the past year and a half, now. Whirling around, you could already feel the smile start to spread across your face as you leapt off the porch and ran toward the well-worn path, the forest beckoning you forward with a distant howl. You didn’t remember when exactly your weekly hikes grew to become your favourite part of the week, but you couldn’t imagine life without them, anymore.

Sucking in a deep breath, your chest swelled at the fresh air rushing into your lungs, excitement flickering through your body with every step you took. You couldn’t wait to see Dream again, as strange as it may sound. He had grown to be a greater comfort than you would have ever imagined, even if he was just a wolf. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but you knew your feelings were true—you couldn’t deny the warmth he made you feel.

Whipping around a tree trunk, you felt your heart skip a beat. You already knew Dream would be waiting for you at your rock—the one he had saved you from all those weeks ago. It had become a sort of meeting spot for them, and every week without fail, he would appear there, no matter how early or late you were.

As the shrubbery gave way to a clean, dirt trail, you lifted your head, squinting your eyes. You recognized this part of the forest, and you knew that you were getting closer. Just then, you saw it—the familiar streak of grey stone slanting up from the earth in a small cliff face. Usually, Dream would sit at the cliff base, his ears already pointed toward you. But today, your brows furrowed when you didn’t see a pair of ears facing you, but a head of hair.

Someone else was at your rock.

Slowing your pace to a walk, you paused for a moment, eyeing the figure sitting at your usual meeting spot. It was a man, you realized, and he was facing away from you. He wore a simple white shirt with jeans, and his hair was a shade of dirty blond with streaks of gold. Even if only from the back, it looked almost oddly familiar gleaming underneath the morning sun.

Taking a tentative step forward, you curled your fingers into your palm. “Hello?” you called hesitantly.

The man startled for a moment, then turned toward you, his face coming into view. As his gaze locked onto yours, he opened his mouth and uttered two simple words.

“Hi, [Y/N].”

You felt your breath hitch in your throat.

His voice was soft, gently wrapping around you like a soothing blanket. Your gaze only briefly raked over the comforting smile gracing his lips, instead focusing on the gleam in his eyes that danced with something warm and inviting.

His eyes were green—a shade of green that you had grown to know and adore.

No, you thought, your heart trembling in your chest. He couldn’t possibly be...

You took another step forward, closing the space between them by another few inches. With your eyebrows knitting together, your voice dropped to a small, curious whisper. “Dream?”

He shot you a crooked grin, chuckling softly. “That’s my name—or at least the one you gave me.” Leaning forward, he rose to his feet, the sun casting a bright streak of light across his cheeks. “My real name is Clay.”

All of a sudden, you felt as though all the air had been sucked out of your lungs. “Clay,” you repeated, your mind slowly growing murky with confusion, “but you’re also Dream. How...?”

A sheepish look skittered across his face, and he ducked his head. The way he lowered his chin was familiar, looking almost far too like a certain wolf you knew. “I—I guess you could say I live in two worlds with two forms,” he began. “Sometimes I’m a wolf, sometimes I’m a human.” He shrugged nonchalantly, but you didn’t miss the way his shoulders remained tense. “You already know one of them, but I didn’t want to keep hiding this form from you, so...” He gestured to himself with a bashful look. “...here I am.”

You blinked at him slowly, the muddled fog in your head slowly giving way to a strikingly warm clarity. But before the clouds could fully part, your lips began to move.

“You’re still pretty,” you blurted, your eyes going wide as soon as the words left your mouth.

In a flash, Clay’s cheeks flushed crimson, a haze of rosy pink dusting his freckles. “H-Huh?”

Waving your hands in front of you, you took a step back, embarrassment shooting up your spine. “I-I mean to say that you’re still pretty as a human! Because you’re pretty in both of your forms!” You stiffened, exasperation soaking your features as your knees buckled. “Wait, no, oh no, that’s also embarrassing... wait, please, um—”

Suddenly, he began to laugh. You fell quiet as you watched Clay clutch at his stomach, his lips split into a wide grin as peals of laughter tumbled from his lips. A familiar pit of warmth flared up in your stomach, one you had felt standing here with Dream so many times before.

He really was Dream, wasn’t he?

As his chuckles finally died down into silence, he stood upright once more, wiping a barely there tear from his eye. “I’m sorry for laughing,” he managed with an apologetic smile. “You must be confused about, well, everything.”

You offered him an honest, lopsided grin. “A little.”

His smile slowly melted from his features, and he cleared his throat as he turned to face you head-on. “Well, this is probably going to sound weird, but you and I...” He swallowed, his gaze flashing. “We’re mates.”

You blinked, your lips parting in surprise. Something in your chest slowly expanded. “Mates?” you repeated softly.

He nodded, his expression firm yet hesitant. “Yes, mates. It means that in one way or another, our souls are connected.” Inhaling deeply, he screwed his eyes shut before continuing. “It’s a lot to take in, I know, but I just want you to know that you don’t have to accept the mating bond.” His voice was trembling now, growing quieter by the second as he squeezed his hands into fists at his side. “You don’t owe me anything. I know this must be scary for you, and the last thing I want is for you to feel pressured because of m—”

“I’m not afraid.”

Clay’s eyes shot wide open, and he raised his head, shock etched into his features. “You aren’t?” he whispered.

The smile on your face was open and kind, and you shook your head. “No,” you murmured, sincerity lacing your every word. “Not at all. Dream, Clay... no matter what your name is, you’re still you, and I know you.” You took another step forward, your eyes never leaving his. There was hardly any space between them now, and Clay could feel his shoulders begin to shake with the sheer gravity of the moment. “I can’t explain it, but I just know I do.”

He swallowed, a whirlwind of anxiety and affection brewing just beneath the surface of his skin. “You don’t have to do this,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I know I’m just a stranger to you.”

You shook your head, again. “You’re not,” you said quietly. “Not to me.”

Before he could even register what was happening, you were reaching for his hand, clasping your palms around his fingers and holding them gently. His heart flipped in his chest at the feeling of your skin against his, and something stung at the back of his eyes.

You were so warm.

“I want to do this,” you whispered, just for him to hear and him alone, “I promise. I—” You gulped, your gaze remaining steady. “I might not know anything about your world yet, but I want to learn.”

You squeezed his hand. “I want to learn more about you.”

Clay sucked in a ragged breath. With shaky fingers and a gentle touch, he pressed his other hand to the back of yours, squeezing back ever so slightly. “I want to learn more about you, too.”

The smile you flashed him easily outshone the sun and every star that scattered across the night sky, and for a moment, he thought his heart had stopped in his chest.

“I’m glad,” you said, your eyes gleaming with delight. “I think we’ll have plenty of time to do that on our hike.”

Right then, a breeze came drifting past, the distant scent of rain filling the air. The trees murmured with rustling leaves and flapping wings as two birds landed on a hanging branch above, gazing down at the two silhouettes standing at the base of the rock face. Just for a moment, or maybe even two, the entire forest went still.

And unbeknownst to you and Clay, right between your feet, a flower began to bloom.

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writeturnlove · 2 years ago

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The Mate: Chapter 4

The Mate – Chapter 4

By Valencia Turner (writeturnlove)

Steve’s POV

I enter my mate’s room after knocking several times. She’s not here. She probably went downstairs to get something to eat. I bought more pineapple and strawberries for her since I know how much she enjoys fruit. The thought of making her happy makes me smile. She deserves so much. I honestly wasn’t prepared to feel so devoted to someone so soon. None of my other relationships felt like this. Before (y/n) I always felt like I was playing a role: doing what I thought I was supposed to be doing rather than what I wanted. It’s different with (y/n). I do things for her because I love her. I know it makes little sense. Developing feelings for someone normally takes time. This felt like love from the beginning and it’s deeper than sexual chemistry. I’m drawn to her spirit and eager to join with it once we complete our Bonding Ceremony and The Claim.

She insists she can handle the Claiming bite, but I’ve already talked to my mother about mixing an elixir for my mate. I know it works on wolves. I’m praying it works on the human I’ve grown to love.

I think of her as I continue to head downstairs toward the kitchen. She must be there as my wolf is scenting her. Her essence fills my nose, but there’s something else present in that scent: arousal. My mate is turned on, and I’m certain that fresh fruit isn’t the reason.

When I reach the first floor, I hear a conversation that I’m certain isn’t meant for me. My wolf stirs inside me as if waiting for a fight. I’m hoping he’s wrong. The problem is: my wolf is never wrong.

“We have to tell Steve,” I hear (y/n) say.

My heart stops. I know I need to think rationally. Normally I do, but this isn’t one of those times.

“Tell me what?” I ask, my temper slowly rising as I step into the room and see Bucky’s closeness to (y/n). They are standing much too close to one another for it to be entirely innocent. It’s natural for me to feel territorial as both human and wolf, and I do, but another sensation lingers in the background as I look from my Beta to my Mate, then back again.

I’m assessing the situation with my instincts and those instincts are telling me I interrupted something between the two people I care about the most.

Bucky backs up looking much more guilty than he should, and that only angers me more. I don’t want to think about what he was doing to her, or why my Mate looks so guilty.

Why does she look as though she needs to make a confession to me? I’m the Alpha. I don’t have the luxury of jumping to conclusions or attacking without cause.

“Did I interrupt something?” I ask, the sentence sounding more like a threat than a question. Silence fills the space between us.

When no one answers, my jaw clenches; a rare occurrence since I’m normally calm for an Alpha Wolf. My blood boils, and my wolf stirs to life, ready to fight. A deeper, more meaningful sensation lurks beneath the anger – something I’m not ready to acknowledge.

Bucky’s protective instincts surge forward as he pulls my mate behind him. It’s not his job to protect her. It’s mine. She’s my predestined mate. Besides, he knows she’s not the one in danger right now.

“I’m your Alpha, Dammit!” I growl, “You WILL tell me what you were doing to my mate, or I swear I’ll fucking rip you apart with my bare hands!”

Please click the link below to read the rest of the chapter...

Comments are welcome!!!

Tagging: (I'm not sure if these links work like they're supposed to.)

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necros-writing-stuff · 3 years ago

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Oooo, can you imagine multiple alphas are after an omega PC? It's going to be chaos. They probably be waiting for when PC's heat struck to claim them. But, who will get PC first? Are they beyond kidnapping PC to make sure PC is theirs? *whisper* can u include all the alpha LIs?

Ooo boy this is just the game on hard mode 100% allure.

Decided not to include Black Wolf and Great Hawk - just couldn't think of how they would be different than usual.

NSFW below (tw for kidnapping, noncon)

Alex

The moment you arrive on that farm Alex wants you claimed.

That sweet omega scent calls out to them and they know they have to give you the job.

Still acts kind, still tries to butter you up so you'll like them more.

Uses helping you with more strenuous work as an excuse to rub the scent over you.

But if you come to work one day smelling like another alpha? Alex isn't going to be happy.

Might start a wresting match, just some 'innocent' rough play, so they can rub themselves all over you again.

Offers to let you stay at the cottage from that point on. You're turning a profit now! No need to worry about school or work or whatever it is in that town that keeps you going back!

If you accept then all is well. Alex can move you in and start claiming you fully.

If not, you might have to watch your drinks. Alex has plenty of drugs that can kick you into your heat, have you begging to be taken one way or another.

You'll be their woman/man eventually. Patience pays off, that's one thing Alex has learned with being a farmer. The more love and care you put into a new crop or animal, the better the results. Mating you won't be any different.

Wants to spend heats with you. Wants to breed you, work on the farm while you rest, then come back inside the nest and breed you more.

Very warm, comforting scent. Reminds you of summer afternoons, with a picnic.

Avery

You have to be marked by them if you're in an arrangement.

Initially takes you on because they're sick of being asked when they're getting mated, when they're settling down and having kids, aren't you sick of working so hard?

You're the perfect little distraction. With you around, their peers stop being so invasive.

You have to behave in a certain manner though, you have to behave as Avery's true omega. Its what they pay you for.

So who is this alpha you're walking home with? All bright eyes and laughter?

Avery drags you into their car, sight going red when that alpha hugs you. People are watching, they don't care, not in this moment.

Locks the doors and drives into an alleyway, not listening to your distressed cries.

Pins you down in the backseat and marks you while they fuck you silly. What kind of a slut are you that you just let alphas touch you so casually?

No amount of apologies are going to stop them taking you. What about Avery's reputation, you ungrateful whore? Have you forgotten your place?

If Avery needs to take you home and chain you up to be a house-spouse they will. Its very unlikely, they're more obliged to cut you off and blacklist you, but its possible.

Okay with you spending heats alone, due to their busy schedule.

Scent is complimented by expensive aftershaves/perfumes in a way that let's everyone know exactly what Avery's social standing is. It commands respect.

Eden

You're not getting off the leash. It's far too risky, you'll just have to follow Eden around forever now.

Knows when you've been touching others, spanks you for it and then ruins you till you forget anyone else exists.

Doesn't matter who it is or what context.

Has proven they're perfectly okay with hunting you down wherever you run off to and dragging you back.

People are terrified of Eden, no matter how much you struggle to get away from their grip, the most you'll get is someone yelling out to leave you alone.

Pretty much only death is going to stop Eden claiming you.

Very okay with hurting any rivals. If Eden comes into town to find you with a schoolmate, Avery, or if they treck out into the farmlands and find you with Alex, Eden could get trigger happy.

Drags you back home after, noone gets to see you vulnerable apart from Eden.

No more school. No more worrying about your orphan friend, no more money or debt. Just stay at home. Where you belong.

Never ever let's your bites fade. They're always red raw and fresh. Eden will take time to rub salve into the wound to calm it, but they'll never relent when it comes to marking. Even if it's just you two out here.

No walks by yourself in the woods. Those wolves find you too tasty, what if they take you away?

Natural and overpowering scent. A little sweaty by midday, but after a bath it's very earthy and fresh. Has plenty of blockers on hand to use when hunting. You're not allowed them.

Kylar

The school trio is where shit gets messy as all hell- because they're the ones most likely to run into each other vying for your attention.

Kylar will protect you from afar, with their blow darts.

Constantly appearing out of nowhere and dragging you away from Robin or Whitney. Even if you just walk past one of the others in the hallways at school Kylar knows and will cling to you so desperately.

That line in the park where they tell you they know if you've been thinking of others? Yeah well it has more weight to it now than ever.

Gives you their clothes to wear, if they'll fit. If not, then they take every chance to break into your room and put their scent everywhere - especially your pillow so it can cover you in your sleep. Maybe you'll dream of them, like they dream of you.

More likely to pull knives when you're close to your heat, also more likely to come at Whitney rather than letting you drag them away from a fight.

And when I say go at Whitney, I mean jumping on their back and fighting like a feral animal.

Panics if they pick up a scent that isn't Robin or Whitney. What do you mean there's even more people to worry about? Where have you been sneaking off to without them knowing? Is that where you're spending your heats?

Speaking if heats, will go hysterical if you spend it alone, never mind with others. You're meant to spend it with Kylar, you're meant to let them breed you.

The most prepared to whisk you away at a moments notice once their jealousy hits its peak.

Going to breed you as soon as you're tied up in their basement, going to mate you and mark you up.

Has a sharp scent. Can be a little stale at times, but its not unpleasant. A little citrus-y.

Robin

A lower confidence Robin might let someone else take you, thinking they don't deserve to be your alpha - maybe there's others out there who can take care of you.

Sits rather dejected at lunch when Kylar barges into your conversation to kiss you in front of them.

Looks away when Whitney cops a feel against the lockers.

A high confidence Robin is more likely to say something about it, but they still respect your autonomy.

It's your choice at the end of the day, Robin just hopes you choose them.

Not gonna kidnap or noncon you over it. Prefers that you willingly give yourself- it means more to them, proves how real it is that you crawl into their lap rather than being pulled into Whitney's.

Very gentle during heats. Will try to hold off cumming until you do, to make sure you're taken care of and not in pain. Might stand guard for you if you decide to go it alone, but is scared they'll give into temptation and barge your door down.

Will scent you when you ask. Its a very soothing, clean scent. Not too overpowering or demanding, not too subtle. Just nice.

Whitney

Oh no.

You thought you'd suffered humiliation before? Well now there's competition you'll see something fierce.

Constantly marking you. Constantly scenting, cumming on your face and rubbing the liquids in so you'll be very obviously claimed for all to see.

Will grab you in the middle of a conversation just to make out with you in front of your friend - especially if its Robin.

If you're talking to Kylar? Same thing only they'll ask their friends to grab the freak so they can't get violent.

Obviously fuck you in public when they can, but even Whitney knows how dangerous it could be to do that when you're in heat.

Whitney is strong, but the chance of some ridiculously strong alpha pulling them off of you and claiming you instead drives them insane.

You can go heats alone. Just don't spend them with anyone else.

Gloats when you ask them to take care of your heat. Yeah, of course you want them, who else would do a good job?

Another one who likes you in their clothes.

Surprisingly fresh scent. It's accompanied by smoke and the occasional alcohol, but naturally Whitney is actually rather clean to smell. It definitely turns heads.

#degrees of lewdity alex #degrees of lewdity kylar #degrees of lewdity eden #degrees of lewdity whitney #degrees of lewdity #degrees of lewdity avery #spill your guts #anonymous #tw noncon

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crossbowking · 4 years ago

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More Than Anything (Part 1)

Summary: (Set mid-season 6) The reader's feelings towards the archer evolve, but a supply run that goes south threatens to destroy it all.

Request: "I'd love to see something w protective Daryl and some angst, maybe set at the start of their time in Alexandria w an established relationship?" - @pulplorrd

A/N: Thank you all for the love regarding "Honey & Whiskey" - I loved writing that story, but I'm also super happy to finally be able to move onto something else! I very rarely write established Daryl x Reader stories, so this one was super fun to do!

This is part 1/2.

Happy reading!

xx Jess

Masterlist

Tip Jar

Sunlight trickled in through the open window, a gentle breeze rousing you from an otherwise undisturbed sleep.

Cracking an eye open, you squinted against the sun rays streaming over your features as a soft sigh escaped past your lips. Burying your face into your pillow, you extended an arm out across the mattress, your brow furrowing when you felt an empty space beside you. Pushing up onto your elbow, you rubbed your eye with the heel of your palm before glancing over at the vacant spot.

“D?” you murmured softly, voice still thick with sleep. You cleared your throat, twisting onto your side as you surveyed the rest of the bedroom. “Daryl?” you called out once more, feeling a familiar pinprick of worry when no response followed.

You flipped onto your back with a huff, taking a moment to stretch out your tired muscles before untangling yourself from the sheets and climbing out of bed. Fighting back a yawn, you padded across the floor and out into the hallway, listening for movement. When you heard a sudden clatter, followed by a rasped cuss, the corner of your mouth quirked up.

You made your way towards the noise, feeling some of the tightness in your chest fade with each step you drew near.

The end of the hallway led to a small, yet quaint, kitchen. When you reached the entryway, you faltered, observing the scene before you — Daryl was crouched down, one hand wielding a frying pan, the other scooping up a small mound of partially cooked eggs from off the floor and tossing them back into the skillet.

You stifled back the laugh building up inside you. “Hi,” you remarked, making your arrival known.

The archer’s gaze snapped up to meet yours, a flash of what looked like embarrassment flitting over his features before he ducked his head back down, effectively concealing his face with his hair. “Mornin’,” he rumbled, quickly wiping up the rest of the egg residue with the sleeve of his shirt.

A small smile pulled at your lips as you crossed your arms over your chest and leaned against the doorway. “Whatcha doin’?” you singsonged playfully, eyebrows raised.

Daryl’s brow furrowed as he stood, staring down defeatedly at the frying pan in his grip. “Cookin’,” he finally sighed, shrugging a shoulder up.

“I see that,” you laughed softly, crossing the length of the kitchen as the archer placed the skillet back onto the stovetop. “Smells good,” you remarked, coming to stand at his side.

“Dropped the —” Daryl spat out another curse as he attempted to scrape the burnt egg bits off the bottom of the pan. “— the damn — the damn thing,” he growled exasperatedly, waving at the pan with the spatula he held.

“It’s okay,” you reassured. “No one expects you to be Gordon Ramsey,” you teased, thoroughly amused.

But the reference seemed to go right over Daryl’s head as he turned to give you a confused look.

Your brow furrowed. “You know…Gordon Ramsey,” you reiterated pointedly.

“Huh?” the archer grunted, clearly at a loss.

“Oh, come on, you don’t — you’ve never heard of Gordon Ramsey?” you asked incredulously. “You know, Gordon Ramsey! The mean British chef!”

Daryl scrunched his nose up before shaking his head. “Ain’t never heard a’ that,” he rumbled, focusing back on the frying pan.

“Wow,” you murmured in disbelief. “That is so…so devastating,” you sighed, mockingly dramatic.

The archer snorted a laugh, the sound eliciting a rush of warmth through you. “Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, gently nudging you with his elbow.

You grinned cheekily, leaning over and resting your head against the curve of Daryl’s shoulder. He froze for a moment, old habits reappearing briefly before he relaxed beneath you and continued stirring the eggs.

An overwhelming sense of calm rushed over you, a feeling only the archer ever seemed to evoke. You closed your eyes, breathing in the comfort he so effortlessly exuded — and it wasn’t in anything he said or anything he did, it was just purely and wholeheartedly who he was. He was grounded, he was stable, he was here.

You’d missed this — you’d missed him.

The past month hadn’t been the easiest — Alexandria was still recovering from the destruction the dead had caused — but things were beginning to look up. The hundreds of slain walkers had finally been removed from within the community, Carl was recovering from his gunshot wound, and the wall that’d been destroyed was almost entirely rebuilt. There was a sense of hope, of purpose, in the air — your people had stared death in the face and prevailed.

But supplies were beginning to wear thin.

Most were hesitant to venture outside the walls, to leave the sanctuary that was Alexandria, and honestly, you didn’t blame them for that — especially after the attack brought on by the Wolves. You’d seen what other horrors existed outside those walls — hell, you’d lived through it. There was a big, bad, scary world just behind the scraps of steel and metal welded together surrounding the community — there was the dead, the undead, and the living.

The latter was most terrifying.

Still, there were mouths to feed, injuries to tend to, and somebody would have to leave eventually. It wasn’t much of a surprise when Daryl volunteered himself — that was just the kind of man he was. Aaron had decided to join him, determined to continue his search for any other lost souls seeking asylum.

But the supply run had taken longer than expected.

They’d only planned to be gone for three days — but after the fourth, fifth, sixth day that rolled by without any sign of return, you were nearly beside yourself with worry. It wasn’t that you thought they couldn’t handle themselves out there, you just wanted them home — you wanted him home. The tightness in your chest expanded with each day that passed, unease gnawing at your insides, fear settling like an anchor in the pit of your stomach.

Then just yesterday — day seven — right before sunset, Daryl and Aaron had come marching through the front gate. Apparently, their intended route had been cut off by a horde, which led to some rerouting, which resulted in an empty gas tank, which forced them to abandon their car, which meant walking the near-fifty miles back home.

“I was so worried,” you suddenly murmured, drawing yourself back to the present as you lifted your head off Daryl’s shoulder and glanced up at him.

The archer’s eyes flashed towards you for just a brief second before focusing downward, turning off the stovetop, and pulling the frying pan off the heat. “I came back,” he finally rasped after a long pause.

“Yeah,” you sounded, nodding your head absently, his words not making you feel all that better.

Daryl caught your gaze once more before he reached out and placed his hand against the side of your neck, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “C’mon, let’s eat,” he rumbled, pulling away a moment later.

You made a soft noise in protest, savoring the rare show of affection and earning an amused eye roll from the archer as he turned away — though you noticed the tips of his ears redden in the slightest.

When you’d first arrived at Alexandria, Deanna had provided two houses to be split amongst your entire group. As time went on and the safe haven had proven to be just that, slowly but surely, everyone began branching out and finding their own homes to settle into. Part of you had reservations about moving into one of the empty brownstone apartments, just you and Daryl, but things had been going well between you — really well, actually.

You settled atop one of the stools lining the small island in the middle of the kitchen, resting your elbows against the smooth marble countertop as you watched Daryl move about. He grabbed a plate from the cupboard, along with a fork from the utensil drawer before swinging around and sliding the items towards you. It was almost eerie how natural things felt in that moment — like a glimpse of what life might’ve looked like had the world not ended and the dead had stayed dead.

The archer grabbed the frying pan, turning towards you once more before using the spatula to dish out a hearty helping of eggs onto your plate. A smile tugged at the corner of your lips at the look of intense concentration masking his features — as though diffusing a bomb and not simply serving breakfast.

Daryl glanced up at you from beneath his hair, doing a quick double-take. “What?” he grunted defensively, appearing increasingly self-conscious all of the sudden.

“Nothing,” you quickly shook your head, letting out a soft laugh and picking up the utensil. “Thank you,” you grinned, gathering up a forkful of eggs.

“Mhm,” he grumbled in response, drumming his fingers against the counter as he carefully watched for your reaction, his nervousness evident — and incredibly endearing.

You took a big bite, humming a noise of satisfaction soon after. “Mmm,” you sounded around the mouthful of food before swallowing. “Chef Dixon,” you remarked cheekily.

Daryl scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Yeah right,” he rasped sarcastically, though you watched him visibly relax. He remained standing opposite of you, opting out from using a plate and eating the remaining eggs straight from the frying pan instead, scooping up a handful with his fingertips and shoveling them into his mouth.

A comfortable silence settled over the kitchen as the pair of you continued eating, sneaking glances at one another while the other wasn’t looking. You couldn’t help yourself — he was just so damn captivating. Even standing before you, devouring a panful of eggs with his bare hands like some kind of wild animal, you couldn’t help but feel your stomach flip-flop.

You’d never felt this way about anyone in your entire life — even before the end. But now…well, now you’d live this terrifying life a thousand times over if it meant finding him.

The sudden realization of what exactly you were feeling hit you hard, catching you off guard and causing you to choke on the mouthful of eggs you were chewing. Daryl’s head snapped up as you abruptly coughed, covering your mouth as your eyes began to water.

The archer was at your side a moment later. “Hey, ya alright?” he rumbled, gently patting his hand against your back.

You quickly nodded, attempting to wave him off as your cheeks tinged with embarrassment. “Yeah — yeah, no, I’m —” you coughed once more, the eggs finally dislodging from your throat. “I’m — I’m good,” you managed weakly, wiping at your eyes. “Jesus,” you wheezed as a sheepish laugh slipped past your lips, your coughs finally dying down.

“Ya sure?” Daryl pressed as he pulled his hand away from your back and rested it on top of your shoulder instead.

“No, no, yeah, no, I’m fine,” you quickly brushed him off. “Just went down the wrong pipe,” you lied, hoping your excuse sounded convincing enough as the feeling of vulnerability threatened to consume you.

If the archer was suspicious, he kept his expression neutral. He nodded once before softly squeezing your shoulder and pulling away — though he lingered nearby instead of moving back to where he’d originally stood.

“Anyways,” you pushed forward, clearing your throat, desperately wanting to ignore the revelation you’d had. “We, uh — we almost finished rebuilding the wall while you guys were gone. Rick’s got a crew working on dismantling the old one, too.”

Daryl watched your expression for a second longer than necessary, like he knew something was up but wasn’t exactly sure what. But after a moment, he relented. “Saw it on the way in las’ night,” he murmured, leaning down and resting his forearms against the edge of the counter. “Looks pretty solid.”

You nodded, huffing a breath. “Abraham’s leading the team — I’m pretty sure you couldn’t drive a tank through that wall.”

The archer scoffed. “Damn right,” he rasped before lowering his gaze, wringing his hands together atop the counter.

You studied his demeanor, feeling a pinprick of unease. “What is it?”

Daryl glanced up, flicking his hair away from his eyes with a quick jerk of the head. “M’, uh — m’ headin’ out again today,” he finally confessed, standing up straight.

You tried to keep your expression indifferent despite your stomach dropping. “Oh,” you voiced dishearteningly. “But — but you just got back,” you pointed out softly, hoping you didn’t sound as disappointed as you felt.

“I know,” he said, staring down at the counter, avoiding your gaze. “Jus’ a day trip, is all — Tara heard ‘bout a motel strip, maybe fifteen miles from here. Shouldn’t take more than a couple a’ hours. We’ll be in an’ out.”

You nodded slowly, pushing around the leftover eggs on your plate with your fork. “Alright,” you straightened up on your stool. “Well, I’ll come —”

Daryl started shaking his head before you could even finish your sentence, his eyes meeting yours. “Y/N —”

“Come on, Daryl,” you interjected, already figuring his response, swiveling in your seat to face him head-on. “I’m losing my mind here, okay? I’ve gotta get back out there and — and actually do something for this place.”

“Ya do enough already,” he shot back vehemently.

You fought back the urge to roll your eyes as you slid off the stool. “And besides, we’ll cover more ground faster if there’s three of us versus two,” you continued brusquely, gathering all the stray dishes on the counter.

“That ain’t the damn point,” Daryl growled, following you towards the kitchen sink.

“Yeah, and it's also not your decision," you finally snapped.

When the archer didn’t respond, stiffening beside you instead, a wave of guilt washed over you.

Exhaling a heavy breath, you gently set the dishes down in the sink before turning to face him. “Look, I get it,” you murmured softly. “I get it, D. But I can’t just hide out here for the rest of my life,” you explained. “Especially when you’re the one risking yours.”

Some of the fire in Daryl’s gaze diminished, replaced with a heaviness that wasn’t there before as his shoulders drooped.

You felt something tug at your heart as you stepped forward, reaching towards him and brushing away the hair that fell over his face. “I just got you back,” you whispered. “And I’m not ready to let go of that yet.”

When another long moment passed without a response, you were almost certain Daryl was going to object once more — but then, despite the tension in his features, his eyes softened.

“Alright,” he finally rumbled, the word seemingly caught in his throat — as though it physically pained him to say it.

A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. “Alright,” you reiterated with a resolute nod.

Daryl sighed, shaking his head as he nudged you forward. “Well, go on an’ get some shit together before I change my mind,” he grunted.

You quickly straightened, imitating a soldier’s stance. “Yes, Chef,” you saluted the archer, breaking the tension.

Daryl narrowed his eyes, shooting you an unamused look. “Shut it,” he rasped — though you noticed his lips twitch up a moment later as he turned on the kitchen sink, picking up one of the dirty dishes.

You stood up on your toes, pressing a soft kiss against the archer’s cheek, the skin where your lips touched tinging pink soon after. “Just give me two minutes,” you said, squeezing his arm as you brushed by him.

Daryl cleared his throat gruffly, caught off guard by the gesture. “M’ countin’!” he called after you.

“Yeah, yeah!” you shouted back, allowing the warmth that filled your chest to carry you the rest of the way down the hall.

Within the hour, you were on the road.

A cool rush of air swept through the passenger side window as you tilted your head back against the headrest and closed your eyes, basking in the sun's gentle rays. The wind danced amongst strands of your tousled hair before settling them back down against your features. Tucking away the freed wisps behind your ears, you opened your eyes, studying the scenery flashing by.

Rows and rows and towering trees lined either side of the long and winding road you found yourself on, a seemingly endless forest just behind it. The car hummed beneath you, passing by long-since abandoned vehicles and scattered debris, continuing to barrel down an otherwise empty highway.

It was strange — there was something somewhat comforting, something sort of nostalgic about being back on the road. Like a glimpse into another lifetime.

“— and I swear, this dude was like, six feet tall. He was one of those, you know, typical chauvinistic pricks, thinking every woman he meets at a bar wants to have sex with him,” Tara’s voice rang from the backseat, drawing you from your reverie. “But you should’ve seen the look on his face when I knocked him on his ass — priceless,” she jeered, an air of pride in her tone.

You shifted in the passenger seat, the corner of your mouth quirking up as you looked back at her. “So, is that when you realized you wanted to join the police academy?” you asked curiously.

“No,” Tara shook her head, a smirk toying at her lips as she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back. “That’s when I realized I like women.”

A laugh bubbled out of you at her response, Tara’s smile simply widening as she shrugged unabashedly, picking up the map splayed out across her lap. As your laughter died down, you started turning to face forward — though you’d only made it halfway when Daryl caught your eye.

The archer sat in the driver’s seat, one hand resting casually on top of the steering wheel, the other propped up against the door. His window was rolled down, the breeze from outside stirring the hair that hung just above his eyes. But what grabbed your attention were his eyes, glinting ocean blue as he glanced over at you, the corner of his mouth faintly lifting.

God, the way he looked at you…

You fought back a smile as you faced forward, wondering what you could’ve possibly done in your life to deserve to be looked at like that. The feeling you’d shoved away earlier at breakfast came rushing back, setting your senses ablaze as you worked on controlling your thrumming pulse.

You loved him.

A heaviness grew in the pit of your stomach as you squeezed your eyes shut.

Fuck.

“Here’s the turn,” Tara’s voice interrupted your spiraling thoughts.

The motel came into view, set back behind a mass of trees, partially hidden from the main road. The car jostled side to side as Daryl drove it down the gravel driveway, leading to the complex. There was a handful of abandoned cars parked sporadically throughout the small parking lot, some trash and debris littering the area, and four lone walkers ambling aimlessly.

Daryl pulled the car off to the side, parking it near the trees and out of sight from the main road, the engine drawing the dead’s attention. “I got ‘em,” he rasped, unsheathing his hunting knife and sliding out of the car in one swift motion.

Your lip quirked up as you watched him dispose of the dead, as quickly and effortlessly as breathing — he’d been made for this world, you were sure of it.

“You coming?” Tara’s voice broke through your thoughts once more, the hint of a mischievous smile ghosting over her features — she’d clearly been watching you ogle at the archer.

You felt your cheeks flush at the scrutiny. “Mhm, yep,” you nodded quickly, shaking away the embarrassment and climbing out of the car.

Daryl crossed back towards you, wiping the walker blood from the blade of his knife onto his jeans and flicking the hair from his face.

“Show-off,” Tara smirked, adjusting the straps of her backpack as she passed him, heading towards the stretch of rooms just ahead.

The archer simply scoffed a breath, rolling his eyes, though you spotted the hint of amusement in his gaze as he waited for you to catch up.

“It’s so weird seeing you without your crossbow,” you remarked, nearing a moment later.

Daryl grunted a breath, swiveling around and falling in step beside you, neither of your momentum’s faltering. “Jus’ wait ’til I find that asshole,” he grumbled, recalling the man he’d met in the woods all those days ago.

“We’ll get you a new one someday,” you smiled, unsheathing your own knife as you approached the motel. “Or you could use the RPG and blow more shit up.”

Daryl snorted a laugh.

“So, how do we wanna do this?” Tara called from up ahead, pausing in front of the center of the strip.

“Room by room?” you suggested, stopping at her side. “One of us can stay on watch, maybe check these other cars for supplies?”

“I got it,” Daryl offered with a nod, re-holstering his gun. “I’ll see if I can get any a’ these guys up an’ runnin’, bring ‘em back home.”

“There’s also an empty gas canister in the trunk,” Tara motioned towards their car. “Salvage what you can,” she shrugged before turning on her heel and heading towards the first room.

You moved to follow, only stopping when Daryl reached out and grabbed your wrist. You turned, spotting the worry in his gaze he tried to hide. “Ya be careful, ya hear me?” he rasped, sliding his grip down and squeezing your hand softly.

“I will,” you nodded, squeezing back, feeling your heartbeat pick up a fraction.

God, you loved him.

The three of you moved quietly and efficiently — you and Tara swept through each room, working your way down the entire motel strip while Daryl picked through the parking lot. The building had been left practically untouched — and besides the supplies you’d managed to scavenge from the motel itself, you’d even found luggage and suitcases left behind by guests who’d apparently vacated in a hurry.

By the time you'd made it halfway down the strip, the packs you brought had been filled to the brim.

“Holy shit-balls, this place is a goldmine,” Tara huffed, tossing her backpack down beside yours in the trunk of your car.

You let out a laugh in disbelief. “I can’t believe it,” you shook your head before scanning the parking lot for Daryl — you spotted him hunched over the hood of a car, his hands buried in the engine, tinkering around. “We should use some of the suitcases we found for the rest of the stuff,” you continued, focusing back on Tara.

“Cool beans,” she shot you a thumbs-up before motioning towards the center of the strip. “Wanna check out the front office before we hit the other half?”

“Sure,” you nodded, slamming the truck shut and falling in step with her as the two of you headed back towards the motel.

When you felt someone watching, you glanced over your shoulder, catching Daryl’s eye — his furrowed brow softened, the corner of his mouth twitching as you sent him a wink and turned back around.

God damn it, you loved him.

Dividing either side of the motel strip was the front office, built just beyond a large swimming pool. There was a tarp draped across the pool, covering most of the swampy green water, though debris floated around the murky edges. Your nose scrunched up as you passed, a funky smell wafting from the mucky water.

“Gross,” you mumbled, mostly to yourself before you glanced over at Tara. “So, you and Denise, huh?” you asked curiously, waggling your eyebrows.

Tara huffed a breath, but you didn’t miss the blush creeping over her cheeks. “I could say the same about you and Dixon,” she shot back, fighting off a smirk.

You rolled your eyes despite the laugh that bubbled out of you. “Oh, come on —”

The rest of your sentence died away, falling from your lips when a sudden growl sounded, breaking the otherwise silent air. You stopped short, Tara halting just beside you. Your breath caught in your throat as you strained your ears, listening for where the noise had come from.

Sure enough, a moment later, a lone walker stumbled into view, coming out from behind the front office.

You let out the breath you’d been holding, feeling Tara do the same. “Hang on, I got it,” you motioned for her to stay put as you jogged ahead, pulling your knife from the holster around your waist. You braced your arm against the biter’s throat, plunging the blade of your knife into its skull in one, swift motion before it dropped at your feet.

But just before you turned to head back, you heard it again — snarling.

Except for this time, it wasn’t just one.

Your stomach dropped as a small herd, about a dozen dead ones, suddenly rounded the corner behind the office, their sights set on you.

“Oh fuck,” you swore, stumbling backward, vaguely aware of Tara yelling your name. But when you spun around, you realized that she too was no longer alone. “Look out!” you shouted, motioning to the two additional walkers quickly approaching from behind her.

As she turned away from you, fighting off the dead that’d snuck up on her, you took off into a sprint, putting some distance between you and the horde.

Tara stabbed her knife into the temple of the first, though the second was on her just as soon. It gripped its fingers around her forearm, pulling her flesh closer and closer towards its snapping jaw…

Just before it could sink its teeth into her skin, you managed to grab it, twisting a fistful of its hair around your fingers and yanking its head backward. You drove your blade through its decaying forehead, stilling it instantly.

But as its grasp slipped away from around Tara’s arm, the walker’s deadweight, in turn, collapsed against you.

You lost your footing and fell backward.

Except the solidity of concrete never rushed up to meet you.

Instead, you were embraced by water, the tarp that’d laid across the motel pool coiling around your body as you sunk deeper and deeper into nothingness.

A/N: EEEEEEK! Y'all know me and how much I love cliffhangers :)

P.S. Feedback is incredibly important. I write for my own happiness, but I also write for YOU. So don’t be afraid to shoot me an ask or leave a comment with your thoughts! It truly motivates me and helps move along the writing process. Also, please consider donating to my Tip Jar. Every little bit helps!

P.S.S. I can no longer tag people on this account, so my tag list has been transferred to my side blog @crossbowking2. If you'd like to be added/removed, please let me know!

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kozzax · 3 years ago

Text

third life happy ending au.

a third life that is peaceful. a third life where things went just slightly differently. a third life where they're allowed to be happy. a third life that, instead of a tragedy, becomes a story of love and friendship and the bonds between people growing and changing over time. a third life where people built up their landmarks, their homes, not out of the terror of another attack but out of their love for each other and their want for their friends, their family to have a place to stay

ren and martyn run a successful enchanting business empire. the red army isn't an army, rather, it's what ren and martyn wanted for dogwarts from the early days; members of the "army" running stalls within dogwarts' walls. the renchanting duo spend their days managing the empire and laughing with their friends; hardly a care in the world. even those outside the red army come to dogwarts for trade, not just of goods but also of stories and laughter and smiles

cleo and bdubs finish the crastle and go on to develop the village further; transforming the broken down shambles into a home. impulse joins them, his loyalties free for all to know, and convinces villagers to live in these newer houses with a warm smile. he and tango develop redstone protection around the village to ensure their neighbors' safety. the village is not a desolate wasteland, forgotten by everyone; rather, it is a meeting place for when server members have free time; a place to take a stroll with your friend and catch up in a more leisurely setting than the bustling dogwarts empire

the hobbit kingdom is fully decorated, just as we see it in the after. they host bonfire nights and go around the server on "beautification projects", planting flowers and trees and shrubbery everywhere they go. the hobbit kingdom itself is secluded outside of bonfire nights, a quiet home for jimmy and scott to live safe away from anything that may cause them harm. the two of them spend hours by their pond on a regular basis, tending to their animals and to their crops and basking in the fact that they're both alive, that they both exist, that they're allowed to be happy.

grian and scar turn the desert into a thriving oasis, both of business and of literal oasis-ness. they have their monopoly on sand and cactus and they develop the desert to reflect this. the walls never go up. they have trade agreements with dogwarts. they may blow things up sometimes, but their explosions take the form of things like the boomers; exploding large areas to make way for people's projects. every once in a while they'll have lighthearted beef with another group, but it never escalates beyond some lighthearted ribbing and it's always brushed over by the next gathering, replaced with more warm laughter and snarky grins

whitecastle stands tall in the swamp, reinforced with bone blocks. pineapple pizza sits on top of a throne within it. impulse's room is labelled with a lopsided sign and a smiley face; tango's just the same opposite it. the swamp is littered with redstone testing made up to look presentable, and the redstoners often spend hours on end tinkering in different rooms of white castle on different inventions. it's a common sight for one of the other server members to walk into whitecastle looking for one of their friends and instead find these three in one of their redstone test rooms, passed out on top of each other in the middle of their project.

cookie peak is more than just a peaceful meeting place or a strategic vantage point. the third lifers meet there for potluck dinners regularly. bigb spends his days in the mines, gathering as many resources as he can before going to one of his scheduled meetings with a smile and a gift in hand. the others always tell him he doesn't need to bring a gift, that they're just happy to get to see him, and he responds with a warm smile and a "i know".

skizz point grows into a spire visible across the map, a landmark of epic proportions that it would be impossible to miss. many late night escapades end in one or more of the server members bunking with skizz for the night, spending hours laughing and playing card games and developing inside jokes between them. the top floor is an exclusive red army hangout area, everyone else jokingly banned from it on account of "you just aren't cool enough, sorry homie"

joel has his hands full with the wolf army, but he's never alone. he spends his days building on joel peak; first a doghouse for his wolves to live in and then more and more of his little area. its not uncommon to see other server members just sitting on a bench he set up, chatting with him and keeping him company while he builds. he gives dogs to each member of the server, warm gifts of the bonds between all of them.

i just think. they should be allowed to have a happy ending.

#3rdlifesmp #3rdlife #skizzleman #inthelittlewood #renthedog #zombiecleo #bdoubleo100 #impulsesv #tangotek #ethoslab #bigbst4tz2 #smallishbeans #solidaritygaming #scott smajor #grian #goodtimeswithscar #my writing #i hope it's. alright to tag everyone? since everyone's. featured here? apologies if not!#i just think they deserve a happy ending #because like. sometimes you just want a happy ending #and sometimes you want to think about the idea of people caring so much about each other #instead of war and bloodshed and battle #'cause it's always just. nice to see happy ending alternatives #it's also always nice to see tragic takes on lighthearted stuff!!#but. third life is a tragedy #and i just think. they should also be allowed a warm loving happy ending #im not making any sense in tags anymore huh sorry to just go on about nothing

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unhealthyfanobsession · 4 years ago

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I teased this in a previous post and people asked me to expand so...here’s my controversial take that Rhysand and Nesta are actually parallel characters in many ways and that they both hate each other so much because they ultimately hate themselves.

Alright ladies and gentleman, anti’s and stans, buckle your fucking seatbelts or hope off the roller coaster here because I’m about to learn you a thing or two about the most divisive characters in the ACOTAR world.

Starting out very broadly- both characters are introduced as sort of confusing villains (Rhys is “evil” but he’s also helping Feyre. Nesta is an “awful sister”, but she also is protective of Elain and tells Feyre essentially to go and be happy), both have faced significant trauma and grapple with self-loathing and feelings of not being good enough, and both ultimately find redemption and healing with their mates who love them. They also both currently exist in a strange parallel coming out of ACOSF where Rhys is supposedly “chosen by the Cauldron” and Nesta is “blessed by the Mother”- the two sacred entities of Prythian.

Intrigued? More specifics and text analysis under the cut

Mommy (and Daddy) Issues:

Both characters were basically raised by their mother’s alone and then lost them at a young age and that had a deep impact on them. Rhysand had a far more positive experience of being raised by his mother HOWEVER I would argue that it was still “grooming” of a type since she took him away to train in Illyria specifically so that he wouldn’t be influenced by his father.

Rhys’ mother did this out of love and Nesta’s mother groomed her out of a social climbing agenda, but it had the same effect- they both lost the parent who was their primary caregiver at a young age and they were both not close with their father’s because of their mother’s actions (again this was a good thing for Rhys, not as much for Nesta).

Parents Death: Rhys and Nesta both blame themselves for one of their parent’s death and are deeply affected by feeling like they failed someone important to them.

Rhys thinks that he is responsible for his mother and sister’s death because he gave Tamlin info

Rhys even says after this “It should have been me.”

Nesta feels that she was unable to save her father and she hates herself for it.

Rocky sibling relationship and Separation:

Rhysand and Cassian are obviously a lot further along in their sibling journey, but it’s stated that he and Cassian HATED each other and fought constantly essentially until Azriel arrived and then they decided to be “allies”.

Nesta and Feyre are also at each others throats but seem to put their differences aside in order to not upset Elain. (Even when Feyre first goes back to the human lands Nesta says NOPE NO FAE! But as soon as Elain asks her to do as Feyre says she agrees) and then Nesta states in ACOSF that she and Feyre were brought together by Elain to be allies in the war.

Rhysand and Cassian obviously grew into true brothers despite their adversarial, insulting, bitter beginning... and Nesta and Feyre after ACOSF have done the same. Obviously there’s still a lot of work to be done in that relationship, but the parallel stands (and is just strengthened by the fact that in both cases it’s the character with more power in the relationship- Nesta for being the oldest and Rhys for being the one whose family took Cassian in is then mated to the opposite sibling!)

Both have a parent who essentially separated them from their ‘siblings’ for their own benefit. Nesta’s mom isolated her as a child so that she could groom her and tell her how to maneuver her sisters when the time was right while Rhys’ father- afraid of his, Cassian, and Azriel’s combined power- separated them for 7 years through the first war to ensure they wouldn’t ally against him. Nesta was also separated from Feyre by Tamlin and tried to go to the wall to get her back but couldn’t get through- which is very reminiscent to me of the scene at the beginning of ACOWAR from the first war where Rhys is searching desperately but without hope for Cassian.

Shared Trauma and Learning to be “Evil” to protect their family:

both characters are sexual assault survivors who spend a chunk of their book (I’m counting ACOMAF as essentially Rhys’ book since that’s when we learn more about him as a character) grappling with that, coming to terms with it, and moving forward with a general attitude of “Never Again.” I would also argue that even their abusers are parallels as Rhysand was only ‘with’ Amarantha because he was trying to protect his family and Nesta was only ‘with’ Tomas because she thought his family might be able to take in and feed Elain (she says in ACOSF that she would give him whatever he wanted- her body meant nothing to her and Elain meant everything, which is essentially Rhys’ UTM mindset). In addition, both characters are able to escape their abusers out of love for Feyre. Rhys does so when Amarantha is about to kill Feyre, and Nesta does so because she realizes that Tomas would never go to the wall with her to save Feyre.

Beyond this, both characters express that it is the lack of control over their own lives that truly haunts them. Rhys when he felt like he had no choice but to be Amarantha’s puppet and Nesta with a lot of her life, but especially when she is forced into the cauldron. Both of these are things that make them feel like failures for not protecting others. Rhys is haunted that he couldn’t protect Feyre under the mountain and Nesta is haunted that she couldn’t protect Elain from the cauldron.

This leads both characters to have a terrifying power-surge nightmare brought on by their trauma (Rhys from Amarantha; Nesta from the Cauldron) that terrifies those around them and can only be stopped by their mate.

In addition to this, they both have a “persona” that they put on and sometimes feel like they can’t shake off, a face that they made to protect themselves and their family. Rhys with his “Court of Nightmares” persona that he uses UTM, in the Hewn City, and with the other High Lords until the war. Part of his growth is letting people see beyond that ‘most powerful high lord of darkness’ mask.

For Nesta this is expressed by her “wolves” that she uses to put up a wall between her and the people who mocked her and her family, and especially Elain. And her learning to open up with Cassian and her found family was really important for her growth

HOWEVER, they both also keep that persona. Rhys has his mask polished for when anyone might threaten the people he loves and so does Nesta. Neither of them truly gave up that side of themselves, the darkness, they simply learned to stop it from consuming them.

They also both LIKE doing this to their enemies. Rhys likes to toy with his enemies and torture those who would harm his family or betray him and so does Nesta- she revels in cutting down anyone who insults Elain and says in ACOSF that she’s felt the urge to do the same for Cassian. They both wield words like weapons and use their intelligence to ensure they are always one quip ahead of their enemies. Something that both Feyre and Cassian admire in their mates and try to emulate to a degree.

(Bonus points for the fact that in both cases their families did not ASK to be protected/sacrificed for.)

Found family and sacrifice:

Rhys calls Cassian and Azriel his “brothers” after becoming close while training and they conquer the blood rite together. Nesta calls Emerie and Gwyn her “sisters” after becoming close while training and they conquer the blood rite together. Rhys sacrifices himself to Amarantha in order to protect Cassian and Azriel (and Velaris). Nesta sacrifices herself to hold the path of Enalius to protect Emerie and Gwyn. There’s also a line in ACOMAF and a parallel line in ACOSF essentially about Nesta being willing to do anything- including “whore” herself- to protect Elain, and in order to protect his brother’s that’s exactly what Rhys did- “whore” himself to Amarantha.

Both are ‘saved by’ and feel not good enough for their mate:

I hesitate to use the word “saved by” because ultimately both characters have more agency than that, HOWEVER, both characters rely on their mate to a degree to pull them out of a very dark time and place. Feyre helps Rhys remember who he is and forgive himself for under the mountain and he even specifically calls her his “salvation.”

I don’t think I need to even say the Nesta part here, all of ACOSF is essentially Cassian helping Nesta climb out of a dark period so that they can heal together.

(Both also start connecting with their mates on a “just sex” situation.)

Both characters think that because of the things they’ve done and the darkness inside of them that they don’t deserve the people they have been mated to.

Obviously there are many differences, but the characters are similar in a lot of ways and what I think this really highlights is just how true that line is in ACOSF about Nesta being a wolf that was never allowed to learn how to be a wolf. Meanwhile Rhys is 500 years older and has always had power and agency of some kind even at his lowest point. Nesta didn’t have that power and wasn’t allowed to really unleash herself so she armed herself with a steel exterior to make up for that lack of power and control. Which is very similar to what Rhysand did when he felt he didn’t have power under the mountain- put on a cold face, not let anyone in, and act cruel in order to get through it.

Overall it’s an interesting character study because in a lot of ways these are very similar characters, but there is such a MASSIVE divide among the fandom of liking and hating one or both of them. Ultimately, I do think that a lot of the hate Nesta gets is because she’s a woman and female characters simply aren’t allowed to have the same flaws as male ones- which is kind of Nesta’s whole life story. BUT I think that Rhysand actually gets unintentionally screwed over by the narrative in one big way. Becuase my final paralell is that I think a lot of people came around on Nesta when they saw in her perspective that she knows she has problems and how much she was struggling… and I also think that Rhysand is so hated by those who dislike him because of Feyre’s ‘he can do no wrong’ perspective. I think if we saw more of Rhysand internally struggling and knowing that he made the wrong call sometimes and second guessing himself he’d be a lot more likeable character. We know he’s capable of this because when Cassian calls him out on the training roof for always thinking the worst of Nesta he just says “you’re right. I’m sorry” and he even *kinda* admits some wrong when he’s so shocked by how deep Nesta’s trauma is. Feyre and the rest of the IC constantly exalting Rhys as perfect when he so clearly isn’t and in fact has a lot of the same “flaws” as Nesta is probably the most frustrating thing about the character, which ultimately I think is kind of unfair because we know from his few perspectives that he doesn’t see himself that way.

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bukojuiice · 4 years ago

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fix you.

ೃ pairing: (village prince! katsuki bakugo x princess mononoke! reader)

ೃ tags: princess mononoke au! studio ghibli au!

ೃ warnings: mild use of weapons and strong language

ೃ part 1/2 of the princess mononoke! au

ೃ word count 4.119 words

ೃ 2/??? of @bukojuiice’s studio ghibli au

ೃ my nav → my mha writing masterlist → my katsuki bakugo x reader smau

ೃ Loosely based off of Princess Mononoke! Not necessarily a word for word retelling/alternate universe. You can read on without any prior knowledge of this beautiful Studio Ghibli film. Hope you enjoy!

ೃ if you want to be part of this studio ghibli au taglist, send me an ask! or if you want to be a part of my mha taglist in general, send me an ask indicating whichever you want to be a part of!

ೃ please do reblog if you enjoyed!! (feel free to add tags too because i love reading them and my heart swells with happiness when people love my work!)

ೃ shoto todoroki’s fic (howl’s moving castle au) for those of you who want to read the first in this series!

ೃ taglist: @chibishae34 @sparkykatsuki @ramunegoddess

�� Katsuki Bakugo is the righteous yet arrogant village prince of the east. The entire village relies on him for protection and for guidance, further inflating his ego. however, after a cursed boar attacks him and the curse is passed on to him as a poisonous mark on his arm, slowly consuming him until he becomes a demon himself. he is exiled without hesitance from his village and is to go on a journey to look for a cure, a journey he might never come back from. With the help of two of his most trusted allies, he embarks on a journey to look for the gods of the forest in where he meets a girl (just as striking as him) who brings him back down to earth, saves him and make him experience a true life worth living.

“Damn this life.” Katsuki curses under his breath, rolling up his sleeves, and collecting clear water from the riverbend and transferring it into his jar.

“Hey! This isn’t that bad!” Eijiro Kirishima, son of the second in command to Katsuki’s mother, his most trusted ally and #2 most annoying fucker on this planet, cheekily grins, patting the blonde on the back. “We’ve gone through worse things in the past. And yet here we are! We’re still alive! Aren’t we?”

“Yea! We’ll find the forest gods soon! Offer food for them and hopefully they give us a cure! This is going to be easy!” Denki Kaminari, another one of his most trusted allies, grandson of one of the wise elders, and #1 most annoying fucker on this planet, reassures his friend whilst aimlessly fixing the saddle on his elk.

Why did life have to be like this?

Who did Katsuki Bakugo infuriate from high above to have this tremendous bad luck and fate be put upon him? All he wanted was to live a noble life as a village prince, have his mother pass down her position of power onto him, become the new village chief, live a life of prosperity, help his people, and then pass away with no regrets. But life just had to do this to him no?

After an unexpected attack of a raging cursed boar consumed by black slithering enigmas in the hills of Mustafu village, the handsome village prince was the only one able of combat who was around the vicinity at the time. He had no choice but to hurl himself in front of the boar, shooting one of his famed arrows, sharper than most and one of the best in his arsenal. The boar had met its demise by his hands. However, not without getting revenge at Katsuki, by passing its curse onto him. The black ooze slithering onto his arm before the animal had fully perished.

That was the worst day of his life.

As the son of the village chief and as one of the most well-known individuals in his tribe, how was he supposed to react?

Katsuki had always been number one. Never once slipping to loss or to failure. Never getting injured. Never letting his guard down. Never disappointing his parents. Never losing his pride nor his mighty personality.

He was the paragon of success.

But, sometimes, the best people feel lost and useless too.

The fact that his mother had easily let go of him, have the wise villager elders speak ill of him and banish him, having to leave everything he had loved and worked hard for, lose his position as a prince, and have the people of his village look at him in abhorrence and disgust, had ended up becoming the most painful experiences he ever had to go through in his entire life.

Leaving quietly at the dead of the night with no proper goodbyes but a brief hug, gift of a good luck charm from his mother, and the willing accompaniment of his two most trusted friends (although he would not like to admit the appreciation he has for them, he was very grateful) on this fruitless journey… He could never have it any other way.

What kind of life was he even going to lead from here on forth?

He didn’t want to stop believing. He didn’t want to lose hope. This wasn’t like him. Katsuki Bakugo knew who he was. He knows how headstrong he is, how prideful, persevering, and how much of a smart-ass he is. He had no time to sulk and contemplate about his demise and what fate had in store for him.

Although, it would be nice if he could release all these pent-up emotions and frustrations at least once. Just once.

He just has no idea how to and who to open up to.

Putting his vulnerable emotions aside, he is going to defy his destiny and take down whatever may come his way.

Making sure no one was going to stop him from doing so.

“Let’s go.” Katsuki jerks his head, gesturing his party members to start walking to the other side of the forest.

“Wait… haven’t we gone there already?” Kaminari protests, not raising his voice nor overreacting because even he knew that Katsuki was on a bad mood as per usual. (With this being the second afternoon of their journey and because they have to leave their animal companions by the river due to how unstable the geographical and terrestrial properties of the forest were.)

Katsuki shoots him a glare, the other blonde clearing the lump in his throat in response. “Okay okay! Let’s go then!”

They quietly navigate through the forest, hearing nothing but the sound of their own feet stepping on the grass, crickets chirping, fireflies flying about, the towering trees swaying with the wind, and the calming yet lonely atmosphere of the woodlands to accompany them.

“Kirishima.” Bakugo calls out coldly. “Are you sure that this is the same forest depicted in the legends?”

“Positive.” Kirishima replies, nodding aimlessly whilst turning his head and taking in their surroundings. “If we spot some Kodama, that means we’re near the tree that stands alone.”

“Tree that stands alone?” Denki asks, tilting his head and sparking a discussion. “Also, what even is a Kodama?”

“You’re the grandson of a village elder yet you’re asking me?” Eijiro narrows his eyes at his other blonde friend. “Kodama are the little white spirits who live in trees. They don’t necessarily guide travelers but instead watch them. They only intervene if ever anything bad happens. If we see them appear then that means we’re close to the spiritual core of the forest. The tree that gives life.”

Yakushima Forest. Located in the southern region, is the settlement of the forest gods and the place where the oldest trees of Japan and those known to man stand strongly. The power and the spiritual energy stored in this wonderous and enchanting forest could only be seen and could only be discovered by heroes and travelers with a pure of heart as the forest was welcoming only to visitors with pure and selfless intentions. However, to those who wish to exploit it and to ruin its beauty will be punished heavily by the gods in the most gruesome ways possible.

Katsuki breathes out a hefty sigh, leading his two other friends who were happily following him from behind. There was this bizarre feeling of anxiety welling up inside him. He was not himself and he couldn’t tell why. All he could do was pretend to remain calm and collected…

He will find that cure.

He will be able to save himself and he will be able to come back to his village, victorious and free of the curse.

Bakugo stops in his tracks when they encounter another streaming river. His two companions almost bump into him with how abrupt he halted in his steps.

There was something amiss in the river.

It wasn’t a bad spirit nor was it some bad energy, but Katsuki could feel something.

There was someone else there.

And he felt that they weren’t exactly the friendly type who would help them.

“Bakugo-sama, why did we stop-“ Kaminari is hushed by his blonde friend before he could even have the chance to utter another word. Kirishima quickly picked up what Katsuki is trying to motion to them and proceeds to quietly scout around the area. “There’s a girl? Wolves too.” He whispers from behind a bush not far from where his friends were standing.

“Let’s go back to the nearby village. Stay at the inn there.” Bakugo whispers sternly, as if not wanting to hear any other remarks from his friends.

“Wait! Bakugo, I know we’re near the tree. Why stop now!?” Kirishima fussed. He knew something was up. “We’re pretty close. We can just set up a fire here then-“

“I said let’s head back. Damn it.” Katsuki repeated his words. This time, in a sort of a growl. “If you don’t want to go back, feel free to die here if you want.” He starts treading back to the path where they came from. Denki looks at his red-headed friend worriedly, even he, of all people, had finally noticed that there was something wrong with their most beloved village prince. Kirishima nods at him cautiously, the two of them walking together behind Bakugo.

They quickly got back to the small village near the forest with no interruption, as the chit-chatter and the energy radiating between both Kirishima and Kaminari were low as Katsuki was in a even terrible mood, refusing to talk to any of them nor humoring their antics and small jokes.

They continue to spend the rest of their day in silence. With, Katsuki, immediately heading back to his quarters to rest whilst his two other companions remained outside to help some village folk and prepare dinner.

The village chieftain of the quaint settlement had a good relationship with Katsuki’s mother. They were good trade partners and the village chief wanted to do everything in their power to help Katsuki be free of the curse by the means of giving him a private inn to stay in and come back to whenever he and his friends would like to. It wasn’t much, but Katsuki needed all the help he could get on this otherwise hopeless quest. Even if he refused the said offers at first.

After another awfully quiet bonding time with Bakugo at dinner, the convivial duo had to break the silence. Denki had thought of the most wonderful idea of bringing up the topic of the girl who was accompanied by wolves in the forest. Because, hey, it’s a girl in the forest! What could possibly be weird about that?

“Hey! So about that girl that we saw…” Kaminari suddenly speaks up, nudging Kirishima in the arm, signaling him to answer his query. Bakugo barely looks up at the sound of his friend’s yapping, continuing to play with the food on his bowl. “Who do you think was she?”

“She’s most probably the wolf princess.” Eijiro shrugs casually, biting on a roasted corncob. “Yakushima forest is protected by the three animal gods whom we know by now as the forest gods. The Wolf goddess, The Gorilla king, and The Deer god. The Deer god being the most powerful of them all. There have been rumors and reports going around that the goddess had taken in an abandoned human girl, and was treated as one of their kin years ago. The girl holds pure resentment for her own kind and chooses to live in the Yakushima forest, taking down every single human who has negative intentions and evil plans for the land she lives in.”

“Well, if she’s that badass, then you shouldn’t call her a princess. She’s a queen!” Kaminari remarks, biting on his newly roasted corncob, listening eagerly to Kirishima’s tale. Bakugo looks up at Denki and the goofy blonde could have sworn he saw a small smile form on Katsuki’s face.

Kirishima laughs at his friend’s little quip, “You’re right. She’s amazing, isn’t she?”

“You weirdos should get to sleep. We go back to the forest first thing in the morning.” Katsuki stands up from his seat, his hands in his pockets, grumpily trotting away to the inn.

“Oh.” Denki blinks. “That was faster than I thought. I didn’t expect him to be convinced so easily. Did you pull that story from your ass Kirishima-kun?”

The red-haired teen shook his head. “Nope. All of that was real.”

“For real? You’re not joking?”

“Yup.”

“Oh, that’s cool. Goodnight then!” The other blonde leaves his seat, patting Eijiro in the arm before leaving and going back to his quarters.

Kirishima looks up at the glistening night sky, a few stars present in the sky to greet him a wonderful night, the boy hoping he would find an answer amongst the stars. “May the gods help us in our adventure.” He breathes a hefty sigh, closing his eyes. After a few more minutes of praying for guidance, he puts out the fire and retreats back to his room.

The night passes by quickly, another day of their adventure waiting to unfold.

“Don’t you dare come back here you disgusting prince.”

“No one wants him here! Got it? Let him go on this adventure and never come back!”

“He’s just a burden. To be cursed by an animal as simple as a boar? Pathetic.”

“Useless vermin.”

“Banished forever? How sad.”

“A prince falling from grace? Predictable.”

The voices of the village people echo in his head.

These were words from them that he was not meant to hear. Ones that he accidentally heard before leaving that same night. These were the words that will haunt him forever.

He, Katsuki Bakugo, of all people, would let all these horrid, vile, and false words get to him?

These were the same words with the same meaning that he’s heard hundreds and hundreds of times from different people, yet it never got to him. He chose to ignore them.

But, why now? What was going on? Why was he feeling this way?

Katsuki awakens at the dead of the night. Beads of sweat falling from his temples, his breath hitched and his body aching. He was not himself right now and this intense feeling of uneasiness and torment confirmed it. Although, he wanted to keep this to himself. He didn’t want anybody else to know what he was feeling. He could overcome this on his own. He could do this all on his own.

“I’ll show them.” He continues to breathe at a fast pace, still a bit shocked by the nightmare he had just seen. “I’ll fucking show them that I am the prince of the Mustafu tribe.” He props himself up from his sleeping mat, reaching for his neatly folded clothes beside him. “And nothing’s going to change that.”

Katsuki begins to get dressed, feeling nothing but anger and determination running through his veins. He puts on his grey vest and wraps his red cape onto his back. He continues to put on his ensemble when a sudden rush of pain begins to throb in his arm. Bakugo’s immediate reaction is to curl up, holding his stomach to try and ease the pain.

The curse was acting up again, reacting to the anger and negative emotions that Katsuki was feeling right now. The blonde winces in pain, kneeling down on the floor to take a hold of his arm that was manifesting a glowing blue and black aura. His muscle continues to throb and he could do nothing but hold it down and take in all the pain until it eventually goes away.

After several minutes of resisting and trying to ease the pain by thinking of more positive and enlightening thoughts, the throbbing suddenly stops. Bakugo goes back to breathing at a normal pace. He rests for a few minutes, making sure that his body was functioning properly once more before he quickly heads out of his private room to head to back to Yakushima forest, searching for answers. He didn’t have time to wait for Kirishima and Kaminari anymore. He was growing impatient, and hearing the haunting words of his village people circling in his head fueled his will power to get this whole ordeal done and head back home.

It was finally the end of another day protecting the forest.

You were about on your daily patrol with the wolf goddess and your wolf siblings, when you encounter three young men who looked like they were lost in the woods. You immediately assumed that they were looking for the tree of life. But they weren’t like the others. They weren’t finding it for selfish reasons. They were looking for it in hopes to find a cure for a curse. That’s what their auras were trying to show at least.

One of those men particularly piqued your interest.

He was… handsome? Was that the word that humans used?

He had ash blonde hair that spiked upwards at all angles, passionate red orbs that gave him such a striking appearance, as if he could hold up the world in his hands. Calloused hands that had taken a part in many battles, a muscular build like that of a noble warrior, a shining sword just as big as him and an arrow that he looked like he was adept at using.

Yet despite your observations, there was this mysterious air around him that you just couldn’t understand.

“(Y/N)? Dear? Is anything wrong?” The elegant white wolf goddess, Moro, calls out to her human daughter, with a worried look.

“I saw 3 dorks by the riverbend on our patrol a while ago.” You say rather jokingly, trying to remember their faces. “I should have struck them down when I had the chance.” You shake your head, reaching for the knife in your skirt and grasping it.

“How so?” The goddess twitches her ear, as if raising an eyebrow at you. “Did you feel any bad spirits within them? Any emotional aura? I told you to do that before attempting to attack anyone remember?”

“There was this particular man among them who had strong energy. He was radiating a gloomy yet aggressive energy. Like that of a person hiding their true emotions to remain strong and brave to the outside world. I kind of felt sorry for him.” Your voice trails off as you nestle your body next to the wolf goddess, along with your siblings who were cuddled up next to you too.

“Why don’t you go check up on him then?” Moro replies casually, as if teasing you. You raise your head up, feeling a tint shade of pink appear on your cheeks.

“W-what do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

A shrieking noise began to ring in your ears, signaling that a human has entered the forest. You quickly rise up from the bed of leaves you were sleeping in. Running out of the cave, you gallop down a slope and sprint your way to the foot of the forest. The spirits guiding you to where you needed to go.

You feel the hostile energy yet again.

Could it be the young man from earlier?

When he enters your field of vision, you climb up the nearest tree to get a clearer look at him from above and from afar.

He still had the same expression plastered upon his face since this afternoon. An irritated and scornful look, yet there was kindness in his eyes that you couldn’t describe.

It wasn’t the kindness that you would see from the eyes of a regular person but it was a kindness that was combined with a desire to protect the people around him. It was different and oddly comforting.

You continue to observe his every move, waiting for him to mess up or try to hurt the magical properties of the forest before you confront him to ask why the hell was he even roaming around in the forest, in the middle of night like a fluffy dog.

Katsuki noticed you standing on the tree-tops.

You weren’t exactly the greatest hide and seek player.

However, he chose to shrug you off and ignore you as he continues to look for traces of spiritual energy that could lead him to the tree of life.

Based on the stories that Kirishima had told, he was actually a bit surprised by your appearance. He couldn’t make out your face with the mask that you were wearing but he noticed your mildly disheveled hair, the ragged clothes you had on, a cape made of white fur and a necklace adorned with three fangs hanging on your neck. From that alone, he knew you were a princess. Not your conventional princess per se with all the jewelry, intricate headpieces and beautiful dresses but, the presence that you have has sort of a dignified feel to it. You might not look like the part but you embodied everything that a princess should be. Headstrong, intelligent, confident in her beliefs, and never afraid to stand her ground.

That’s what Katsuki thinks at least.

With all the stories that Kirishima had recited about the Yakushima forest, you were one of the most interesting bits.

Katsuki Bakugo was enthralled by you in more ways than one.

You were a mysterious enigma that he had to unravel.

You were getting a bit tired of watching him aimlessly roam around the forest. He was absolutely going nowhere which is funny because he didn’t strike you as a person who had no sense of direction. In an alternate universe, he’d probably be kidnapped by some villain or bad guy if he continued to be reckless like this, just walking around without a care in the world.

You spoke too soon.

You barely dodge a sharp arrow that pierces through a tree. It wasn’t from the young man you were watching but from someone else. Thieves. two of them.

You forgot that you weren’t able to sense other humans entering the forest if you focus on a particular one. It completely slipped your mind that there would still be sick individuals who would try and attempt to find the riches of the forest despite the many incidents happening time and time again warning humans to not enter the Yakushima Forest if they want to explore it for their own selfish desires.

You hastily jump down onto the ground, releasing a flurry of punches and kicks at the thieves, knocking 2 of them unconscious. You thought that the fight was over until you hear agonizing screams from the other side of the forest.

You quickly sprint your way there, hoping nothing serious had happened and no one was hurt in the process.

You arrived in a secluded area, tall trees covering the sun or the moon for the light to seep into, resulting in a dark and gloomy atmosphere.

You stop in your tracks when you notice six thieves unconscious on the ground too. You were about to breathe a sigh of relief when you notice that the boy was panting heavily, injuries and deep wounds were present all around his body. He was terribly injured. He stares at you for a few seconds before collapsing onto the ground.

You grit your teeth, approaching him with a scornful look. “You’ve wasted your life by getting in my way!” You sheathe his blade from it’s scabbard, pointing it directly to his chest. Katsuki’s chest rises up and down, a sign showing that he was breathing normally but was at the brink of unconsciousness.

“I’ll cut your throat! That will shut you up!”

“You’re beautiful…”

He mumbles, his eyes fluttering open, making intense eye contact with yours.

You suddenly feel your heart race, thumping loudly. You pull the sword away and jump away from him. You were taken aback by his words because of how he caught you off guard just like that. Who gave him the right to do this to you? Who was he in the first place?

Why did he make you feel all these soft and mushy feelings right now?

Who gave him the right to do this to you?

A human being?

A feeling sparking in your chest...

Is this what humans call love?

- To be continued.

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condorclaw · 4 years ago

Text

...so we could all use a little fluff after yesterday, right?

TW: description of a panic attack with referenced abuse. The scene is in bold if you want to skip over it, and is a small part of the story

Michael didn’t understand much about the world, especially since Snowchester was all he could remember.

What he did know was that there were both kind people, and people who were not so nice.

Michael’s dads knew what was best, he had realized. Many times Michael had been approached by strangers in his own room, with dadboo swooping in to clutch him to his chest protectively. Michael didn’t know what was so bad about some of these strangers, but in his dad’s arms, he felt protected, so he figured dadboo knew something he didn’t.

Dadboo wasn’t the only one in Michael’s life who he felt fully safe around. There was his other parent, dadbee. Dadbee wasn’t as tall or as strange as dadboo was, but dadbee would stand with dadboo, a weapon clutched in his hand whenever a stranger would invade the house. If Michael listened to Technoblade’s metaphors in the possible future, he’d look back on this time and compare his fathers to a sword and shield.

There was another important guardian in Michael’s life too: his uncle Tommy.

Tommy had hair that reminded the kid of gold, fangs that were as sharp as piglin tusks, and always some kind of mischievous glint in his eye. When Michael’s dads were away, Tommy came to watch over him, something Michael had grown to look forward to.

Ever since the two met, they had a strong connection, something that was cemented with Tommy knowing Michael’s native language, being able to communicate with him better. Tommy was also teaching it to his fathers too, dadbee getting good enough to ask Michael what he wanted for dinner, and being able to understand Michael’s answers, while dadboo was the best at giving one-word instructions.

His family was so cool, and Michael would tell Foolish Jr. about them whenever the little totem came over for a playdate. Just like Michael, Foolish Jr. had an uncle as well, but unlike Michael, Foolish Jr. had never seen his own, hearing that he had been taken somewhere secret. Michael felt sorry for his best friend, while also being happy that he had such an awesome uncle himself.

Tommy was even missing an eye like him! Michael didn’t know how he lost it, and whenever the piglin asked, Tommy would just mumble something in response about “green”, and saying that Michael could hear about it when he was older. Michael didn’t mind, it just made him feel closer to the blonde.

The world was confusing, and things didn’t make that much sense yet, but Michael knew that he always had dadboo, dadbee, and uncle Tommy by his side to protect him.

“You two have fun, okay?”

Michael watched as Tubbo tried forcing a large metallic object into his bag, even beginning to stomp down on it before Ranboo ran in frantically.

“Tubbo, we just need to check on the borders of Snowchester, we don’t need-”

“Nukes can come in handy, Ranboo!”

“HOW!?”

Tommy rolled his eye in mock exaggeration, glancing down at Michael, who turned his head to stare back. “Your dads are never getting out of here, guess I can’t babysit tonight.”

Michael stomped his hoof in frustration, letting out a loud snort of annoyance, which caught both of his dads’ attention.

“Tommy, what did you tell him?” Ranboo’s eyebrow raised in suspicion as his eyes gazed down at the huffy piglin.

“That the two of you are slower than the Eggpire’s “ultimate takeover”.” The pout on Tubbo’s face was enough to make Tommy burst into his signature laughter, the couple eventually joining in on enjoying the joke. Michael didn’t understand what was happening, but began to giggle in little snorts, not wanting to be left out.

“Okay, okay. I think we are taking a while,” Ranboo muttered, tilting his head to look down at Tubbo accusingly. The ram hybrid stared back, sticking out his tongue in mock aggression.

“Don’t you want to be safe? We could run into a pack of wolves and have to defend ourselves.”

“Tubbo, I think the nuke killing us is more likely to happen than being killed by mobs-”

Michael let out another frustrated cry, beginning to hop in place and slam his hooves down on the floorboards. Ranboo and Tubbo both looked at him, ears folding back sheepishly.

“Sorry,” Tubbo mumbled in piglin, rubbing the back of his neck. Ranboo nodded along with that, bending down to rub Michael’s head affectionately. “Okay, we get it. We’re going now. Have a good time, Michael.” Ranboo gently booped Michael’s snout with his own, standing up once the piglin squealed happily,

“Ranboooo, we have to make a stop at the warehouse,” Tubbo tugged on his husband’s jacket once the enderman stood.

“Tubbo, we’ll waste time-”

“Do you want the nuke to be left here with our son then?”

“...okay, w-”

“GOODBYE ALREADY!” Tommy let out a battle cry, shoving the two parents through the door and locking it behind them. Michael chirped happily, clapping his hooves at the amusing sight. Even inside, they could still hear Ranboo and Tubbo talking faintly. Uncle and nephew listened closely, waiting until the voices could no longer be heard.

“Okay, those two are gone now. We now have the whole night to ourselves.” Tommy turned, giving Michael a fanged grin. The piglin began jumping on the spot excitedly, flapping his stubby arms.

Tommy had been surprisingly good at managing Michael, even understanding how to keep him happy while making sure he was safe. The lack of a language barrier made everything a lot easier too, but even Tubbo and Ranboo were surprised at how well Tommy knew how to do a lot of household tasks that parents normally took over. The two of them had once come home to a spotless house, Tommy telling them that he needed to kill energy through cleaning after putting Michael to bed.

Currently, Tommy was preparing a bowl of steamed carrots for Michael, keeping an eye on the piglin playing on the floor while also focusing on the pot boiling. Michael’s favourite food was potatoes, but his parents had told him that Tommy didn’t really like those much, so he had to have something else. Michael’s next favourite was carrots, which was something Tommy did like too, and he always made them the way Michael liked.

On the floor, Michael was playing with his stuffed bee. It was a gift from his dadbee that Michael loved squeezing into, and it was even the size of the piglin himself. It was rather silly to see him clutching onto a giant bee, but it was also a very cute sight.

Michael pretended to attack the large plush, leaping into it at full speeds and rolling across the floor like he always did. Tommy chuckled at the sight, removing the pot from the stove and turning it off. “Be careful, little man. Tubbo’ll kill me if something happens to you.” He muttered light-heartedly.

Michael oinked in understanding, rolling his bee across the floor once more. Upon doing so however, a thread caught onto the edge of one of the floorboards, unravelling the bee slightly and exposing the stuffing. Michael stared at the plush toy quietly, his eye wide as tears started to spill from it.

Setting aside the carrots for draining, Tommy quickly turned around upon hearing a panicked squeal. He spotted Michael clutching the ripped bee close to his chest, sad little oinks escaping from him. Tommy slowly made his way over to his nephew, crouching down to see him better.

“Did Mr. Bee get hurt?” Michael nodded, oinking out what happened to his favourite toy. Tommy turned, glaring at the floor with a huff.

“How dare you fuckin’ hurt him. Mr. Bee never did anything to you, stupid pieces of wood.”

Michael giggled a little, tears still falling from his eyes. Tommy turned back to the piglin after “getting angry” at the floor, an understanding smile appearing on his face. “Michael, do you know where Tubbo keeps the rainbow string with the tiny stabby sticks?”

The piglin gave a curt nod, pointing to one of the chests along the walls. Tommy stood up, stretching his body before leaning down and gently picking up Michael. Michael was placed in his high chair, with Tommy bringing over the bowl of drained carrots. “You eat these, okay? I’ll have the coolest surprise for you when you’re done.”

Michael’s eye widened again and he quickly began to gulp down his food, Mr. Bee forgotten for now. Tommy let out a panicked laugh, quickly taking the bowl from Michael and stared at his nephew eye-to-eye. “You only get the surprise if you eat slowly, okay? It’s not safe to eat that fast.”

Michael frowned, folding his arms and muttering something.

“Woah, and where did YOU hear that word from?”

Another snort.

“...okay, I’ll admit that I did say that.”

Michael’s lip curled in in satisfaction as he stuck his tongue out at his uncle, Tommy placing his hand to his chest and gasping dramatically. “Wow, you’re so fuckin’ rude. I can’t believe you’d do this to your own flesh and blood.”

Michael pointed to the right side of his head.

“...flesh and bone. Stop being so sassy tonight.”

Another stuck-out tongue.

As Michael began to eat, Tommy looked through the chest his nephew had been pointing to, finding the needles and threat he had been looking for. The blonde gave a fist pump in quiet celebration, heading back to where Michael had left the stuffed bee behind. He sat down and picked up the plush, surprised at how light it was. With his materials there, Tommy began to sew up the toy.

Wilbur had taught him how to sew during the Pogtopia days, when Tommy's clothes kept getting torn due to running from the Manberg guards. Wilbur eventually became far too busy to teach Tommy more, which was when Niki stepped in to continue teaching Tommy, and started teaching Tubbo as well.

Tommy didn't have the best childhood. Actually, that was an understatement. Tommy had one of the worst childhoods possible, with the constant threat of war and death looming over his head as he charged into battle with his family and friends. It was the worst experience Tommy could have ever gotten, and even though the wars were over, there were still the rising threats of new ones. Ones that he'd probably be forced to participate in.

But for now, everything was okay, and that's all Tommy wanted.

Michael was a bright young lad, appearing to adopt similar mannerisms to Tommy's own. While he'd never say it to anybody, Tommy was incredibly fond of his nephew. Michael had a loving family, and a wonderful home to live in. He didn't have to care about wars, or being exiled, or being imprisoned, or-

Tommy felt his heart rate drop for a moment, accidently pricking himself with the needle he was sewing with. "Shit," he muttered, quickly shaking his hand to alleviate the sting.

Michael looked over at him, hearing the curse. His ears were perked up and he oinked inquisitively. Tommy responded with a thumbs-up, letting out a fake laugh. Michael copied his actions, giving a similar thumbs-up motion with his hooves.

As Michael continued to eat, Tommy continued to sew, his mind suddenly a lot more crowded than before.

Michael slurped up the last of his meal, licking his lips happily. Carrots were always filling, especially when Tommy made them.

The piglin began to let out chirrs, gazing in Tommy's direction as he wiggled in his seat. Tommy looked up from what he was working on, eye softening when he saw how energetic and happy Michael was after the meal.

"Alright, I'm coming."

After removing Michael from his chair, Tommy brought him over to where he had previously played with his bee, setting the boy down carefully on the floor. "You ready for the best fuckin' surprise ever?"

Michael nodded rapidly, clapping his hooves and flapping his legs.

"Shut your eye."

Michael did so, one of his hooves rushing to cover up his functioning eye. The other hoof covered up his skull eye, despite not being able to see anything out of it. Tommy smiled fondly, placing the stuffed bee in front of his nephew. The bee was sewn up shut, a large red bow tied around its thick neck.

“You can look now.”

Michael removed his hooves and immediately started shrieking with excitement. He rushed forward, almost flattening himself into the plush toy. Tommy stepped back, folding his arms and leaning against the wall with a smirk. “Is your uncle the coolest, or what? Don’t answer that, I know I am.”

It was funny how despite being different species, Michael looked so much like Tubbo in the moment. Tommy recalled a similar situation with Tubbo that happened in the ravine of Pogtopia, and how it happened shortly after Quackity had joined the group. Quackity had gone to secretly fetch items from his old office, returning to Pogtopia with them alongside Tubbo’s beloved bee plush that had been abandoned on the former vice-president’s desk.

The bee was ragged and torn, but a still-recovering Tubbo had been happy beyond tears to have it back. He held it all day, with him only letting go as he slept that night. Tommy had slid the bee gently out of the older boy’s arms and tried to stitch it back up. It didn’t go as well as he had hoped, but Niki had found him underneath the moonlight, and was the one to assist in repairing the plush. Tommy had made Niki promise that she wouldn’t tell Tubbo it was him, but looking back at some of those messy cross-stitches, Tubbo probably figured it out within seconds.

Upon waking up, Tubbo found his newly-repaired bee and began to bleat excitedly, clutching the toy close to his chest and burying his face in it. It had been a moment of joy in the darkness of their situation, and certainly lifted Tommy’s own spirits.

Michael was acting just like his father did then, the memory causing a soft smile across the blonde’s features. Tommy was so lost in his thoughts though, he didn’t notice Michael rushing towards him. In the piglin’s excitement, he had forgotten the one rule his parents had set up for him.

He grabbed a hold of Tommy’s leg, squeezing it tightly in a hug.

Tommy's eyes shot open at the sudden contact, the pressure on his leg constricting him, preventing him from moving it. He couldn't move his leg, he couldn't move his leg, he couldn’t move his leg.

His voice caught in his throat, the walls of it tightening as his breathing sped up. He couldn't scream for help, he couldn't cry out for anybody. All that was there was the searing pain of his wounds as his body was scraped along the ground, Dream's voice in his ears that Tommy couldn't run, that Tommy couldn't beg, that Tommy couldn't leave.

Michael had looked up at his uncle at that point, suddenly aware that the mood in the room had shifted drastically, and still clutching the leg. Tommy returned Michael’s look, trying to weakly shake his leg, which had become numb.

“Michael. Leg.”

It was two words, but Michael immediately realized what he had done, the piglin stepping back a few feet with an apologetic squeal. Unfortunately, Tommy’s head was now spinning, and couldn’t make sense of the room. He was real, he was real, he was real. He wasn’t dead, he wasn’t back in the prison, his head-

Tommy collapsed to the ground, making Michael jolt. Michael started oinking nervously, trying to find out what was going on, and what he could do. Tommy’s head felt like it was going to split open, and he shut his eye tightly, hands clawing at the wooden floor as he tried to communicate with Michael, making sure not to scare him even more. “Brain’s upset.”

Tommy wasn’t able to open his eye to see what Michael’s response was, but Michael was frantically looking around for something that could help. When his parents were upset, he would curl up next to them, snuggling into their sides, but he couldn’t do this with Tommy. His fathers’ one rule had been to never touch Tommy, especially if his uncle wasn’t looking, and Michael had broken it on accident.

Going over everything he liked to do when scared, Michael’s eye landed on his bee plush. Whenever he was worried, he liked to hug it. Would his uncle like doing that too? Nervously, he tried nudging it towards Tommy, little by little. When he thought it was in good-enough range, he let out gentle honks, trying to get his uncle’s attention. It took a few minutes, but Tommy’s eye eventually opened slightly. It looked glazed and unfocused, glancing around the room for a moment before landing on the soft toy placed in front of him.

Slowly, he let go of the floor, the process taking several minutes for him to even reach out for it, but Michael waited the whole time. He gave the toy one move delicate shove, allowing it to roll until it stopped in front of Tommy with about a foot of distance between them. Once more, Tommy grabbing the plush took a while, his arm trembling, and his face pale, but eventually he got a grip of it, pulling it into his chest as quickly as he could.

“Thanks,” Tommy muttered weakly, Michael’s ears rising as he smiled.

It was about a half-hour later before Tommy fully calmed down, the comfort of the bee plushie combined with the gentle sounds of Michael’s chirrs lulling him into a more comfortable mindset.

Weakly he got up, the bee plush sitting in his lap as he rubbed away the tear stains. Tommy glanced over to his side, noticing Michael watching him carefully. His head was cocked to the side, and though he seemed happy that Tommy was up, his eyes showed worry for the older boy.

“I’m great, Michael,” Tommy lied a little. He was certainly feeling a lot better, but Michael probably wouldn’t understand if Tommy said he still felt a little disoriented. It was best to reassure the kid more than anything else. Smiling back at his nephew, Tommy carefully handed the bee plush back to him, the worry in Michael’s eyes being replaced with relief and joy.

With a grunt, Tommy hoisted himself up, praying that his arms or legs wouldn't give out again like they did before. He was still shaken up, and definitely not wanting to come in contact with anything else at the moment, his skin feeling cold and exposed from the aftermath. Michael watched him closely, taking a few steps away whenever Tommy would stumble in place, and looked like he was about to fall over. Letting out a sigh, Tommy looked over at Michael, gently smiling at him. "We could use a break. Do you have anything you want to do?"

Michael practically beamed.

"Hello~!" Tubbo slammed open the door, his mouth pulled into a cheeky grin.

Ranboo followed behind his husband, letting out an exhausted yawn as he carried a stack of leather almost up to his chin (and for Ranboo's height, that was saying something). "The world's most tired man is back, along with the living embodiment of a firework hyped up on crack."

"Ranboo, don't say that," Tubbo frowned, placing his hands on his hips. "You're nowhere near enough to be as colorful as a firework is."

"Are you implying that you're the tired one here?" Ranboo set down the stack of leather, beginning to brush remaining bits of meat from the leather off of his hands. "Because it seems like I had to do all the work."

"Hey, you're the one who said we should get leather!"

"And that to YOU somehow translated to "let's kill every cow in a four-mile radius". Now I've got gunk all over me."

"We-"

"OH MY GOD, WILL YOU BOTH PLEASE FUCKING SHUT UP?" Tommy yelled from where he sat on the carpet, spinning a plastic spinner that landed on the color red. Michael oinked in agreement, trying to reach the red spot on the plastic mat with his hind leg. Tubbo and Ranboo's conversation was immediately forgotten, the two watching in awe as their son was playing Twister.

"C'mon, big M. You've got this," Tommy encouraged. When Michael wasn't looking, Tommy carefully slid the mat closer together, making the spot reachable for him. Michael placed his leg down, letting out a squeal of victory. Tommy whooped excitedly, Michael raised a hand to give Tommy an air high-five, when he slipped and fell down, squealing in surprise.

"I know last time with Battleship was the weirdest I thought this could get, but I literally have no clue why you keep teaching him games out of his age range." Tubbo muttered, confused, before taking off his uniform and hanging it up on one of the hooks. Ranboo nodded, following Tubbo's actions with his own coat.

"Michael's a trooper!" Tommy folded his arms with satisfaction. "Next time I'm teaching him chess."

"Do you even know how to play chess?"

"Um, of course I do."

"Then why-"

"Okay!" Ranboo clapped his hands together, interrupting the conversation before it spiraled once more. "I assume you two had a good time?"

Tommy and Michael looking away from the couple awkwardly wasn't a good sign.

"Well, it was a good time," Tommy began to explain. "There was just a little accident though. I'll tell you two about it later when, y'know, somebody certain's asleep. But all you need to know is that Michael handled it really well." The blonde looked down at the piglin, flashing a fanged grin. Michael returned the smile, standing up on his stubby legs and rushing to Tubbo to give him a hug.

"How was the patrol thingy?" Tommy stood up as well, stretching as best as he could.

Ranboo and Tubbo were now the ones that looked away awkwardly.

"So somebody," Tubbo began, itching his cheek. "Might have suggested that we should get leather while we were out."

"And SOMEBODY," Ranboo flashed Tubbo a glance, folding his arms. "Decided to commit a mass cow genocide-"

"You know what! That story's not important right now!" Tubbo waved his hands frantically, laughing awkwardly as he avoided eye contact with a glaring Ranboo. "The point is, we didn't end up doing what we wanted to do-"

"Wonder who's fault that is-"

"-SO WE DECIDED TO DO IT ANOTHER TIME!" Tubbo finished, looking like he was about to start sweating buckets. "So, if it's okay, Tommy… could you maybe look after him again tomorrow?"

Tommy grinned again, nodding his head several times. "You can count on it, Tubbs. We definitely need to fuckin' talk about what happened tonight first, but hell yeah! Sounds good to me!"

"If you tell me Michael killed somebody, you're immediately fired as a babysitter and an uncle." Ranboo lifted up Michael from Tubbo's side, allowing the piglin to grab at his horn.

"Michael, if you ever kill somebody, don't tell your dads." Tommy whispered to Michael in piglin, fully knowing what was coming next once Michael giggled.

"Tommy, what did you say to him."

"Manslaughter is pog."

"YOU DID NOT-"

#*stares at word count* this is two times longer than the previous one what the fuck am I okay #anyway have more uncle Tommy and Michael content because I adore them and am manifesting wholesome canon interaction #dream smp #dsmp #c!tommy #c!tubbo #c!ranboo #michael #michael the piglin #c!michael #my writing #my post

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stockholmdolly · 3 years ago

Text

EASY PREY (BEWARE OF THE LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD) 16

Pairings: dark!Ransom x reader; dark!Steve x reader; Tery S. x reader

Warnings: swearing, violence.

Word count: 1,804

Author’s note: Hello fanfiction world, it is me! Stockholm Dolly. Chapter 16, Ransom just wants revenge for his baby brother now turned into a melting wax figure. For a super soldier, he’s not that immune to electricity. Happy reading...

CHAPTER 16/26 DAY 33 CONTINUES, GO

And I know it seems useless, I know how it always turns out Georgia, since everything’s possible We will still go, go –“Go” by The Innocence Mission

Tery, this vision I hold of her, like an old precious Polaroid in my purse, the photo changed only by the warping of color over time, but still and forever the same in terms of heart-caving nostalgia. Tery, sweetly sleeping, courtesy shock, courtesy sickness, her curls rising and falling with every inhale, every exhale. I wanted to keep my own breath in time with hers so that I might be a sleeping beauty just like her. To have someone stand watch over me, protect me from wolves, from dragons—yet, only lovely Tery, my new friend, my only friend, the closest one to my desire to mother a child, only she was worthy of such administrations. Only Tery deserved pause before the storm. I, I was a mere weapon.

How was she able to sleep? I understand, I truly understand. In the moment I gave her my hand on her pillow, she likely allowed herself to succumb to whatever battle of insomnia and fever she’d been beating back. I was to save her. She handed me her fate.

And I had work to do. And though I’d turned Love on for Tery, no other switch was on. Not even one for annoyance. I had abandoned all hope on cops showing up, so I put the possibility of them showing up, out of my mind.

Hole-in-his-Face-Ransom-y-Poo’s moaning began to carry outside, moving in the direction of my wing and the kitchen and his burnt brother, melting wax figure, dear ol’ Captain. I figured they would not be long in returning. And I guessed he’d likely recover from his brother’s some tool or apparatus or artifact of demented sentiment, whatever, and then he’d reenter the kitchen to formulate a plan to get rid of us, but hopefully with our babies. I was praying the whole deities, Natasha wasn’t going to pop up, because I couldn’t handle two and a half people against heavily pregnant me and heavily pregnant and hysteric Tery. There, he’d soon figure I had used the phone, seeing as I left the envelope with the address under the dangling cord. With hand heel to forehead like a dunce saying “duh,” he’d finally realize I’d called the cops. I wasn’t going to underestimate the smarter of the dumb twins. Sleeping Tery and I had all of four minutes to escape and get to the van.

I collected and stashed Asset #40— Tery’s knitting needles—in my back holster, while kicking Tery to wake up. I removed Asset #41, the bobby pin in her hair, and slid to the locked door. Only two months prior, I had maneuvered a mini-needle through Jackson Brown’s shaved skin to finely stitch her paw, which she’d slashed on a jagged roof edge while chasing a cooing dove. So, since I was really a surgeon inside, picking the country lock on Tery’s cell door was as easy as popping a canister of Pillsbury cinnamon rolls with the flat end of a fork. Pop.

With the door open, waking Tery became a liability and a duty. I slid back to her bed and as soon as I arrived, I bent to her lifting head. Cupping a hand, the one with the blood from my eye, I held firm to her dry, cracked lips, staring into her now startled eyes.

- Tery, keep your mouth shut. And I mean shut tight if you want to live. Follow me, now. Get up, now.

I didn’t let go because I wasn’t sure she understood.

- Do you understand me? If you make one noise, we’re toast. You have to shut up and follow me. Understand? My holster banged into my up-bent shoulder, rattling the knitting needles, bedpost arrows, and keys inside.

Tery nodded her head to indicate she understood.

Slowly I released hold on her mouth; she wiped my blood from her lips.

Are we blood sisters now? Is this what it means to have a best friend?

Stop.

Stop these ridiculous thoughts. Get to the van.

Honestly, you’d think I’d kidnapped the girl. I had to push her from behind, prodding with my index and middle fingers on her spine as though a gun. Her one skinny leg and her one swelled leg wobbled from fatigue and emotional retching, and she continually turned to face me with a puppy-dog, quizzical gaze. - Turn and walk. Be quiet, I kept saying.

Step by step we crossed the threshold. She seemed so hesitant to take the flight down, checking me constantly with an expression of “You sure? You sure?” I pushed harder with my finger gun. Her back felt knobby and knotted, not fleshy as it should have been in her late state.

Given the wetness outside, the stairwell’s thick air of must and dank hit our noses in a swift uppercut, so much heavier than in times of sunlight. Like a smelling salt, the mold must have slapped Tery to a sharper alertness, for she jumped and froze. I pushed again.

I wasn’t mad at Tery. I had scant emotion. I just needed her to focus and quicken her feeble pace. Tery herself was most definitely not an asset. But she was my instant friend and now my ward, and we’d formed an unspoken bond no one else could ever really understand, even myself. So, although I growled directives at her, I did take two pauses to pat her back to say, “Come on now, be strong. You can do this,” which is what Mother said to my father on the day he had to throw the first shovel of dirt on Aunt Lindy’s grave.

We were about midway down the stairs, close to the top of the last flight. I fisted Tery’s greasy hair to halt her descent and hold her still. Fearing their return, I strained to hear any shuffle along the tar and gravel outside. Tery’s shallow breathing filled the stairwell with a rumbling static, like an old lady with pneumonia, that crickety wheeze of breath encumbered by phlegm. With her wrist in my hand, her heartbeat tapped too quick; with my bloody palm to her forehead, her temperature nearly burned me. Again, she locked eyes with me, and in this second moment of tightening our bond, without her saying the words, I answered, “I know.”

By my estimation, we had about a minute and a half to reach the bottom floor, exit the building, cross the small parking lot, and enter the forest path before Ransom emerged from my wing. I had visualized the outside world and the path back to the van since the first day in this hellhole, even though I had been blindfolded and bagged when I’d arrived. I counted the steps, recorded the give of the ground, touched the air for climate, and had replayed those details into a visual memory of terrain, topography, and temperature. In my mind, I’d made the trek from van to building and building to van a hundred thousand times. And you know what? Apart from the building being a white building—a former boarding school—instead of a white farmhouse, I was dead-on exact on every detail. Goes to show what your senses and your memory, your prior learnings and your confidence, will give you if you’re able to strip out the nonproductive distractions of fear and anticipation. Listen. Smell. Taste. See. Live. Evaluate. In real time.

Most people perceive only 1 percent of the colors in the vast spectrum of hues. The rare humans who visualize more than 1 percent report either a disappointment with everyone else’s dull perception of life or claim to have visited Heaven in their dreams. They have a type of super-sense, these lucky souls.

A recent article in Scientific American reminded me of the super-sense I experienced during my time in the Appletree prison. Summarizing research published in the Journal of Neuroscience on the cross-modal neuroplasticity of the deaf and blind, the article proclaimed, “This research…is a reminder that our brains have some hidden superpowers.” If you’re not aware of cross-modal neuroplasticity, basically it is the ability of the brain to reorganize itself in the areas where a person may be sense-deprived. For example, how “deaf individuals perceive sensory stimuli, making them susceptible to a perceptual illusion that hearing people do not experience.” I really liked the introductory paragraph of the actual Journal article, which stated rather succinctly, I thought: “Experience shapes brain development throughout life, but neuroplasticity is variable from one brain system to another.”

So, I, a deaf person, a blind person, a person deprived of varying senses, one who with practice, built models of reality, a separate dimension of senses that overlaid with the world in a very true way. Perhaps emotions are merely another set of senses, and the absence of them makes for precision hearing, touching, smelling, seeing, imagining.

Perhaps.

Who knows?

Detecting no scrubble of his footfall, we scrambled to the bottom of the stairs and shuffled our way outside. Looking left, looking right, I found no sign of Ransom or melting wax figure Steve, so I pushed Tery diagonally across the tarred area to the opening of the path to the van. Our bodies were practically merged we were so close. We cut a shadow of two mountains stuck together with those bellies, which I studied with awe when we reached the mouth of the trail.

Are we one girl? The same girl? Are we all the same at 20? So ready for life, and yet so young. I have to save us both. Us five.

I leaned from behind to speak in Tery’s ear as I collected the keys from my holster. The heat emanating from her body made me think she might combust; my face grew flushed. I hadn’t noticed the sprinkles of rain until they cooled me of her warmth.

- Tery, walk straight ahead exactly one minute. Running would be faster if you can. Trust me, I know it’s scary in there, and it will be dark, but it opens onto a large field with cows and a big willow tree. Under the tree is a van. We’ll take the van. I’ve got the key. Let’s go.

Tery nodded her head in a slow, nauseated way, and took one step into the forest. I followed, glued to her body. Our steps were in sync and so close together, as though we walked with tied legs, the sound of the door shutting behind us was slightly muffled by the thud of our double-footfall.

- Oh, hell no! You girls stop now! Ransom’s voice was a high pitch of crazed depravity.

I shoved the ring of keys in Tery’s hand.

- Go now! Do what I said. One minute. Run! Go, go, go. The van key is the one that says Chevy. Go. Go.

These were the last words I ever spoke to Tery S. Rodriguez.

I ran straight toward Ransom, a knitting needle in one hand and a bedpost arrow in the other.

Taglist: @cjand10

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elivanah-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Gift of the gods ~2~

pairing: Paul Lahote x female!pagan!reader

Sum: y/n struggles with her feelings

warnings: fluff, a bit angst

Yes there will be a part 3

masterlist part 1

Ever since the day Kim and y/n had breakfast at Emily’s and had met Paul things had changed. She couldn’t really describe how but she felt it. Emily and the guys had been so welcoming to her and just accepted her into their group. It was nice, she had a harder time than others to trust people and she really felt like she could trust these people. She felt at ease like she belonged here. But she knew it wasn’t really the group that made her feel like that. It was mostly Paul. At the end of that day, Paul and she had exchanged phone numbers after they had sat on the beach talking while the rest of the guys played soccer. Even from those few hours of talking she could feel the connection between them like it just clicked between them. At first, she thought it was weird how quickly she felt at ease with him but then again not much surprised her anymore. And she had asked the gods for balance, who wasn’t to say that just like Kim had said the gods could have granted her wish in the form of a person?

The following few weeks she and Kim spend almost every day with Emily and the guys when they weren’t working. By the end of the first week, she really saw them all as friends. It was easy to say that she even had started to develop feelings for Paul, she didn’t know yet how strong those feelings were, but she had them. She knew he was interested in her too, he had even asked her on a date not long after that day on the beach. But she had to let him down, she really wanted to say yes but dating him would make leaving so much harder. And she knew a long-distance relationship was not something that would work for her. He understood, said that he’d be anything for her that she wanted, a brother or a best friend, he even kept the option of a lover open for her if she ever decided to give a relationship with him a shot. That only made her feelings for him grow. The way he talked to her, made her laugh or smile when she felt down. It was like he just knew what she needed, and he just gave it to her.

La Push had always been her home, it seems that being back here only made that even more clear to her. Where she lived now she never had felt like she was home, even the people she had around her, her adoptive family never felt like real family to her, she only had a good relationship with her mother, she’d do everything for her. Being back where she was truly happy made her rethink everything.

It was her last week in La Push and she didn’t know how to feel, she felt torn. She wanted nothing more than to stay here and give in to whatever she was feeling for Paul. But sadly, things weren’t that easy. She had a job to go back to, her adoptive family. She couldn’t leave just like that.

That’s how she found herself back at the beach at sunset, she had spent most of the day hanging out with Kim and Jared but she had felt like she was third-wheeling most of the time. She had muttered some lame excuse and walked the short distance to the beach where she found her usual spot and sat down. This time she wasn’t going to start a ritual, she was just going to pray to the gods. She tried to calm her racing heart as much as she could, took a few deep breaths, and cleared her mind before softly speaking.

“Make me strong in spirit, courageous in action, gentle of heart, let me act in wisdom, conquer my fear and doubts, discover my own hidden gifts, meet others with compassion, be a source of healing energy, and face each day with hope and joy” she repeated the mantra a few times until she felt completely calm and had a clear mind. She knew she could make decisions better with a clear mind. It had felt like only a few minutes had passed since she had arrived at the beach but when she looked up, she saw that the sun had gone down completely and made place for the dark night. She must have zoned out for quite some time because she could hear voices calling out for her. As fast as she could she got to her feet and slipped from behind the bushes and surely, she could see Paul and Jared walking straight at her spot calling out her name. It was like they knew she would be here.

“I’m here! Sorry, I lost track of time.” She spoke as she walked in their direction. “How did you even know that I was here?”

“Kim told us you like to come to the beach to think so we figured that we would find you here,” Paul said as he scratched the back of his neck like he wasn’t completely sure of what he was saying. Kim never knew about her usual spot on the beach so she knew Kim couldn’t have told them, but she didn’t call him out on it. “Well, I’m taking Kim to dinner, so I need to get going if we want to be on time. See you guys later.” Jared said before taking off leaving her and Paul alone on the beach.

“Walk with me?”

“Sure” she smiled as he held her hand and started to walk together along the shore.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” he said after a long comfortable silence “I don’t really know how to start. It’ll actually sound crazy, but I need you to trust me.”

“Of course, you can tell me anything, Paul. Whatever it is, I’ll promise that I won’t judge you.” She reassured him and softly squeezed his hand letting him know he could go on.

“I don’t know if Kim ever told you about our tribe’s legends?”

“Her parents did, I think, back when we were little. I thought those stories were amazing, how some of your tribe members are supposed to transform into these giant wolves to protect the rez, right? At least that’s what I remember, it’s been a long time since I last heard them.” She smiled as she thought back to the times that Kim’s mother tucked them into bed and told them all these stories.

“Yeah, that’s the essence of the legend. But what if I said that those aren’t just stories, what if…?”

“It was you, wasn’t it?” she quickly says when he didn’t finish his sentence. she knew that the wolf she had seen on her first night here in La Push had seemed familiar when she thinks back to it, the wolf’s eyes had looked so much like Paul’s. And in a way she felt like she had always known, he had been the wolf that had been watching her as she did her ritual.

“What?” Paul asked a bit confused and stopped walking to turn towards her; this wasn’t how he thought she would react. Yes, he had expected her to take it better than how most people would but this he didn’t understand.

“The day I arrived, I came to the beach and I saw two wolves. You were one of them, weren’t you?”

Paul could only stare at her in amazement. She knew, she just knew and didn’t freak out about it.

“How did you know?” He asked softly

“When we met at Emily’s I already had the feeling that we’ve met before, your eyes just seemed so familiar, and then one day when we were talking you just looked me straight in the eye and I just knew where I had seen your eyes before. It was those wolf’s eyes, it was you,” she explains with a soft smile.

“So you’re not afraid of me?”

“No, of course not. Call it strange, but I knew you’d never hurt me from the first second that I saw you. I felt a connection like it was meant to be.”

“I’d die before I’d ever hurt you. I promise you I’ll never hurt you,” he said as he cupped her cheek with his free hand looking at her like she had hung the moon and stars in his sky. Little did she know that was exactly how he felt. The moment was so intimate that neither noticed that they started to lean into each other until their noses touched. Before Y/n really knew it soft warm lips brushed over hers and for a minute she forgot all about why she felt like a relationship with him wouldn’t work. At that moment it was only him and her and nothing else mattered but them. If she had to describe it she’d say that a bomb of butterfly’s exploded inside her belly. If she wasn’t sure about her feelings for Paul, she was now, she was in love with him. Her mind was clear, no worries, no questions, just warmth and him. She let herself be selfish for once. Pressing her lips fully against his deepening the kiss into a passionate embrace of their lips. She doesn’t know how long they stood there with one of his hands on her cheek while his other hand was still holding hers as their lips and tongues danced with each other.

The days following that kiss felt like she went through hell, it’s not like she regretted the kiss but it had complicated things. Leaving La Push, leaving Paul was going to be one of the hardest things she needed to do. That day after he dropped her off at Kim’s place she had cried herself to sleep, mourning a life she wished she could have with Paul here in La Push. For once in her life, she disliked the fact that she had a family and a job waiting for her to come back to. The following days she stayed inside her room, silenced her phone, and kept herself busy with packing her bags. Both Paul and Kim tried to talk to her, tried to figure out what was wrong but they were met with silence. That was until Kim had enough of her sulking and just used the spare key to open her bedroom door. Kim’s heart broke a little when she saw her best friend sitting in a corner of the room with teary eyes. She just sat down next to her, pulled y/n into her embrace, and cried with her like she already knew what she was going through.

“ Whatever you decide to do, this will always your home too y/n,” Kim said later that night when they lay on her bed before the two of them fell asleep.

Friday had never come this quick before, all her bags were packed and loaded into Kim’s father’s truck ready to drive her to the airport. Kim’s family had wanted to throw her a goodbye party but y/n shut that down as soon as they had vocalized the idea. Instead, she just wanted to spend her last hours in La Push with them as a family. Now she sat on the edge of her bed, taking in the room for the last time when suddenly there was a knock on her already open door. She expected it would be Kim or her father, but instead, she saw Paul standing there leaning against the doorpost. When their eyes met he gave her a soft smile that didn’t reach his eyes completely. He looked like he hadn’t slept more than a handful of hours in the last few days and she knew that it was probably because of her but still he smiled at her.

“So you were leaving without saying goodbye?” He said. It was more a statement than a question.

“I’m sorry, I just thought it would be easier like that.” She softly says as she turns her eyes back to her hands.

“Why would that be easier? Please talk to me, don’t shut me out.” Paul asks as he makes his way into her room and sits down next to her. “Because it just makes leaving harder, I can’t say goodbye to you.”

“Then don’t, don’t leave. Stay here with me.” he pleads, takes one of her hands in his, and gives it a soft squeeze so she would look up at him.

When their eyes meet again he can clearly see the tears in them ready to fall.

“ As much as I’d want to stay I can’t. Please don’t make this harder Paul,”

As soon as she started talking the tears fell, her heart already starting to break.

“If you want to stay, then stay. We can work something out, we can work. What, what about that kiss? You can’t deny that it felt right, amazing even.” he spoke like he was getting desperate.

“Yes that kiss was amazing and felt right but it complicated everything. I really like you, a lot, but I have a life back home, people who expect me to come home.”

“I know, I’m not asking you to give them up. I’m asking you to give me a chance, to give us a chance.” He says turning his body fully in her direction.

“Look I know this isn’t the way I wanted to tell you but there is another part of the legend that I haven’t told you yet. Every wolf has this ability to imprint. It’s when we find that one person and you look at her for the first time and suddenly it’s not gravity that holds you, it’s her. She gives the wolf balance, peace. The wolf’s whatever the imprint wants him to be, a brother, protector, a friend, or a lover. they’re soulmates.” He explains as he looks at her hopefully.

“I’m your imprint.”

It was something she already knew deep inside herself, it might not be in the same words but she knew, she felt it. He brought her balance and she had never felt more at peace and loved. That’s why it was that much harder. Soulmate or not, long-distance would never work, but then again staying wasn’t an option. She had too many people depending on her back home, she couldn’t leave them fending for themselves. She couldn’t be selfish even if she wanted to be.

“Yes, you’re my imprint.” He smiled weakly as she just cried a bit harder than she already was and without thinking he pulled her against his chest. He knew he couldn’t force her to stay so his heart broke together with hers. He understood why she was leaving and couldn’t stay. But you couldn’t fault a man for trying, he wanted what’s best for and if that was not here with him then he had to let her go.

“Can we at least stay friends, stay in touch?” he asked her while a tear of his own fell.

tags:

@its-la-push @ghostmistwalker @bisexualcrazybeans @fatiguing-thoughts @pawfect-melody

#paul lahote #paul lahote x reader #alex meraz #twilight #paul lahote x y/n #paul x reader #paul lahote fanfiction #pagan reader #wolfpack #embry call #jacob black #Jared Cameron #sam uley #Quil Ateara #Kim

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