#he keeps you safe and warns you of wolves and you pretend not to hear the way his gravelly voice sometimes shifts into a growl | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

proxima-writes · 6 months

Text

pairing: cult leader!joel miller x virgin!female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 8.6k

summary:

You think you’re as good as dead when a band of raiders find you. In what you think are your final moments, an angel appears.

His name is Joel Miller, and he is here to deliver you from evil.

author's note: a huge thank you to my fellow cultist @atinylittlepain for listening to me scream about this. without them, we'd probably be on version 5 of this story. and to everyone who has been excited about this, i hope you enjoy!

warnings: DARK CONTENT - DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, dub-con: power dynamics, dub-con: cult mentality, age difference - 60M and 27F, explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), no use of y/n, dual POV, post-outbreak, canon divergence, canon typical violence (knife wounds, gun shot wounds, numerous mentions of blood), minor character death(s), blood cult ceremonies, religious themes, possessive behavior, emotional manipulation, loss of virginity, oral sex - f receiving, vaginal fingering, unprotected p in v, cum play, dirty talk, pet names, praise, joel really has a loose screw ok? if there are any tags missing, please let me know!

“I don’t think you should go out there by yourself,” you say, watching as your dad inspects his gun. He looks up at you with a pained expression.

“I gotta see where we should head next. I don’t want to lead you out in the wrong direction, accidentally get you in a bad spot,” he says. “I’ll be fine, buttercup.”

There’s a heaviness that settles in your stomach at his words. He sounds confident enough, but his eyes tell a different story, expose his fear. He stands with a sigh, a wince of pain washing over his face.

“Maybe I should—“

“No,” he interrupts. “I’m going. I won’t be gone long, okay? We can’t stay here forever. Who knows what’s out there in the forest.”

That’s exactly what you’re afraid of. At least inside the rotted cabin you stumbled across you could pretend you were safe. The forest is alive in a way you’ve never experienced growing up in a QZ surrounded with barbed wire and steel. You hear the snap of twigs and the howl of wolves, or the flutter of wings and the call of birds, and sometimes you think you feel the weight of eyes watching you if you venture out too far in your exploration.

“We’ve made it this far. We got out of Denver and that was half the battle,” your dad says. “You got your knife, right? And enough rations.”

You nod, swallowing around the lump in your throat. He kisses your forehead, dry lips lingering on your skin. You have an aching feeling this is a goodbye, some sinking intuition that he’s making a mistake that you can’t correct.

“Be back soon. I love you.”

Joel’s been keeping an eye on the people in the woods for the last three days. There was chatter on one of the radio stations that the Denver QZ was facing an uprising and he knows that once those walls come down, the survivors that venture out are bound to stumble across his town.

The cabin door opens and the man steps out, venturing into the forest. Joel waits to see if his female companion follows, but the door remains shut. He longs to see you, the girl who’s image has been burned into his brain since his first glimpse, but he has a duty to fulfill first.

He walks quickly and quietly through the forest, sure feet catching up with the man less than a mile from where he’d started. Joel clears his throat.

The man turns, fumbling with a gun that he clearly has no experience using, pointing it at Joel with shaking hands and shouting, “Move and I’ll shoot!”

“You lost?” Joel asks, holding his hands up and keeping his face trained in a mask of concern. “Lookin’ for somethin’?”

After a pause, the man seeming to have concluded that Joel isn't a threat, he says, “My daughter and I…we escaped the Denver QZ."

"That must've been difficult."

"We....we're running out of food," he continues, dropping his arms, limbs hanging heavy at his sides. "I-I don't know what else to do, man."

Gun no longer pointed at his face, Joel approaches the man, stopping when he's within arms reach. Up close, he can see the dismal state the guy is in -- sunken cheeks and bloodshot eyes, tattered clothing hanging on a thin frame. Joel places a hand on his bony shoulder.

"I can help you," he says. The man looks up, a brief glimmer of hope flashing in his eyes. Joel watches the slow realization, the way his brain catches up to what's just happened, a choked noise spilling from his dry lips.

Joel tugs his knife from the man's gut and steps back, watching as he collapses to the ground. Desperate hands smear the blooming red stain across his abdomen. Joel circles the man, positioning himself at his back, and pulls him close with a hand slapped over his mouth.

"I'll take good care of her," he whispers before dragging his knife across his neck in one clean slice. The man twitches once before growing limp and Joel releases him, body hitting the forest floor with a dull thud. Not one to waste, Joel gathers anything of use from his person.

Something catches the light against his neck. Curious, Joel tugs the bloodstained neck of his t-shirt to the side, finding a silver chain. He pulls, revealing the length of it.

A cross.

The clasp snaps with a sharp tug and Joel stuffs it in his pocket. Standing and shouldering his bag once more, he begins his walk back towards the cabin.

You're running as fast as your legs will carry you, lungs and limbs burning with the effort. You made the mistake of not listening to your dad when he'd told you stay where you were, to stay hidden, that he'd come back. Your nerves had gotten the best of you and you decided that you would catch up with him, but you didn't know which direction he'd gone. You figured you would travel a little ways and see if you could find him and if you didn't do so quickly, you'd rush back to the cabin and wait, just as he told you.

That's when the men saw you, two large figures with rifles that reminded you of FEDRA soldiers slung across their backs.

You duck behind a thick tree to catch your breath. You can hear voices calling out through the forest above the rush of blood in your ears, taunting tones carrying through the air.

"C'mon out, pretty girl!"

You chance a peek out from your hiding spot, only catching a brief glimpse of one man through the trees.

"Where ya hidin', sweet thing?"

His voice sounds far away and that gives you the courage to move forward, a tentative dash for another tree.

“I might be nicer to ya if you just come on out, but if I have to hunt ya down…well…you know what a hunter does to its prey, don’tcha?”

You press your hand over your mouth, muffling the cry that claws its way up your throat. You start to run again, faster, not caring if he can hear you so long as you're able to maintain that distance, hoping that if you can outrun them for long enough, he'll just give up and then maybe you can find your--

You crash into something, the world sliding out from under you and the breath rushing from your lungs as you land on your back with a pained shout. A hand wraps around your ankle, pulling you across the rough ground before you have the chance to recover.

"Gotcha," a man says, the voice different from the one that had been taunting you before. A figure stands over you, a foot on either side of your hips, looking down at you with a sinister smile. "Pretty little prize, huh?"

You twist your body, scrambling away from him. He laughs, following after you with unhurried strides.

“Now, don’t play hard to get,” he admonishes. A hand wraps around your ankle and he drags you toward him, kicking and screaming. Your foot connects with some fleshy part of him and he curses.

“You little fuckin’ cunt,” he hisses, dropping your foot. He kicks you, heavy boot colliding with soft flesh and bone, a sharp pain blossoming in your side, shooting down to your very marrow. You curl in on yourself, wounded prey trying to protect its most vulnerable parts.

A shot rings out, the sound startling in the relative quiet of the forest. You sit up, sudden movement making you light headed, and it takes you a long moment to register the scene before you.

The man that had been chasing you, the one that had caught you, the one that had hurt you on the surface but planned to do far worse, lies on the ground, eyes wide open but unseeing. Above him stands your savior, an older man with gray streaked dark curls and tan skin, broad shoulders and hard brown eyes. He reminds you of a painting you saw once in a book your dad owned, long before the outbreak.

“Death On A Pale Horse,” he explained when you showed him the painting that caught your eye. “Based on the Book of Revelations. You remember that one, right?”

“Yeah.”

“This one,” — he pointed to the central figure, a dark creature on a white horse — “is Death. And this one” — he pointed to a figure on the right that rides a dark brown horse, the dark colors making him blend among the horrors breaking from the sky behind him — “would be famine. You can see the emaciated man below him.”

“What about the other two?” You asked.

“The one of the red horse would be war.”

You pointed to the remaining figure, a man with dark curls and a determined expression. “And the white horse?”

Your dad paused. “Conquest. Pestilence. The Antichrist. The first horseman of the apocalypse.”

The man before you today looks like that figure on the white horse and despite his choice to rescue you from one horror, you fear he may be something far worse.

The man kneels and you flinch away from him. He sighs and says, “I ain’t goin’ to hurt you.”

“Who are you?” You ask, voice weak, throat on fire.

“My name is Joel,” he says. “I want to help you.”

“How do I know you weren’t with those other guys?” Your eyes grow wide and you rush to stand on shaky legs. “Wait, there’s another—“

“He won’t be an issue,” Joel assures you, wrapping a steadying arm around your waist. “C’mon.”

“I can’t—“

“Men like those two ain’t the only things in the forest to worry about, and I’m afraid we can’t sit around and find out. That gun shot could send a horde runnin’.”

“Wait!” You snap, pulling out of his grasp. He holds his hands up, as if in surrender, or maybe like he’s approaching a wounded animal. You’re not sure which. “My dad is out there. H-he went to figure out where to go from here. We were in a cabin…” Your voice trails off. “I told him I would wait for him.”

Joel’s eyes are soft as he says, “We need to get ourselves to safety. I can send someone out to look for your dad first thing in the mornin’.”

“Send someone?”

“There’s a group of us, down in the valley. Survivors, like you.”

“Really?” Relief washes over you, eclipsing even the ache in your belly and the burn in your throat and the pain in your muscles. “How far?”

“With the state you’re in, probably about a two hour hike.”

You don’t have much choice but to go with him, do you?

“Okay.”

“Where’re you comin’ from?” Joel asks, glancing over his shoulder at you. You’ve been following quietly behind him, head down and eyes fixed on the ground.

“Denver,” is all you offer in response. He knew that much already. He wants to know more.

Maybe he has to give more first.

“‘M from Texas, originally. Was in a QZ in Boston for a while before makin’ my way out here.”

“Why’d you come out here?” You ask.

“Had a friend once tell me, ‘Save who you can save’,” he says.

“What does that mean?” You ask.

“You’ll see.”

Joel had mentioned survivors, but you're shocked to discover that just past a wooden sign proclaiming WELCOME TO CRESTONE in chipped yellow paint, a whole town is tucked away, surrounded by a wooden gate that opens for you as you approach. You feel the weight of curious eyes as you walk through a town square, Joel's palm between your shoulder blades steering you towards a more residential area until you reach a two story adobe home.

Once inside, you’re led upstairs to a sparsely decorated bedroom, a large bed in the center with a faded quilt tucked around the mattress with precision and a dresser against one wall covered in yellowed wallpaper. Joel gestures for you to sit, kneeling on the wood floor in front of you to work on the laces of your sneakers.

“What—“

“You need rest,” he says, removing your shoes. He looks up at you, brown eyes full of concern. Your stomach flips.

“But—“

“No,” he says sternly. He stands and walks to the side of the bed, tugging the quilt free and folding it down. “I have duties to return to, but you’ll be safe here.”

You don’t have it in you to continue arguing. You haven’t seen a comfortable bed in more than two days and the exhaustion catches up to you in one fell swoop, eyes halfway to shut as you crawl into the space Joel’s made for you between the sheets. He pulls the covers over you, the warmth of a hand smoothing across your cheek the last thing you feel before falling asleep.

You wake to the sun high in the sky, streaming through the open window of a room that you don't recognize. You push yourself to sitting, your ribs protesting the movement and your head pulsing just behind your eyes. Your mouth is unbearably dry, so much so that you start coughing, further aggravating your bruised ribs.

"There's water on the nightstand," a voice says, startling you.

You look to your left, finding a young girl sitting in a wooden chair by your bed. Her dark hair is pulled back from her face, wayward pieces falling across pale skin. Her sharp brown eyes watch you with an intensity that makes your skin crawl.

“I’m Ellie,” she says. You mumble your own name.

“Did Joel save you?” Ellie asks.

“Uh—“

“He must have. That’s what he does,” she continues, cutting you off.

“Ellie!” A familiar deep voice calls out. Her eyes go wide and she scrambles from her seat, rushing for the door. Heavy footsteps climb the stairs, Joel appearing in the open doorway. He looks at her with a stern expression, mouth pressed in a thin line. “Thought I told you not to come up here.”

The look on her face isn’t fear, like her reaction would have led you to believe. No, she looks up at Joel with reverence as she says, “Sorry. Wanted to see her.”

Joel nods. “Head to the mess hall. I’ll bring her down shortly.”

Ellie casts a lingering look in your direction before disappearing through the doorway.

“Sorry about her,” Joel says. He takes a seat on the edge of the mattress. “How’re you feelin’?”

“Could be better,” you say honestly. “How long was I asleep for?”

“A little more than a day.”

Your eyes go wide. “My dad—“

“We’ve sent out a search party. No luck yet, I’m afraid,” he says. You curl into yourself a bit at the news, shoulders tight with worry. He reaches forward and places a hand on top of your own where it rests on the sheets. “You should get some food. I brought you some new clothes, too. I’ll let you get dressed and we can go down to the mess hall.“

He leaves the room before you respond and you drag the pile of clothes closer to you, finding a neatly folded t-shirt, jeans, underwear, and socks. It takes you a long moment to work your way out of your dirty clothes, your movements slow to not aggravate your injuries. You keep your bra on, pulling the clean shirt over your head, followed by the jeans. You're thrilled to be wearing something that's not caked with dirt and sweat.

You're working on putting your socks on when there's a knock at the door, Joel entering when you call out for him to come in. He smiles at you.

"There, that's better," he says. "C'mon. Let's get down to dinner."

You follow him out of the room and down the stairs. The first floor of the home has a kitchen that opens up to a living and dining area, the space filled with worn mismatched furniture. The walls are wood paneled and there's a massive stone fireplace with elk antlers mounted above it.

The sun is setting as you step outside and get your first real look at the town as its bathed in gold. Narrow residential streets give way to wider roads once you reach the town center, where commercial buildings are pressed together advertising long forgotten businesses, their windows dark.

"That's the butcher up there," Joel says, pointing to one of the wooden buildings. "He gets the meat from the traps prepped for us." He points to another building with a sign that says RESTAURANT. "That's the bakery."

"A butcher and a bakery?" You ask. "Do you have electricity here?"

"Sure do. Solar panels, just outside the gate."

You continue walking through the town until you come up on a large white building, people entering and exiting through a set of thick double doors. The shadow of a cross remains above the door, perhaps scorched by the sun where a crucifix once sat. People welcome Joel as he enters, heads turning in their curiosity. You press a little closer to Joel's side.

The large room is bursting with noise and activity -- a flurry of conversations, the clink of cutlery, and laughter. You've not seen anything like it before, the mentality in the QZ not conducive to camaraderie. You can count on one hand the number of people you would have considered friends within those walls, and even that was a stretch. You and Joel join a line of people retrieving plates of food from a single window.

"How long has all of this been here?" You ask, gesturing to the room. He looks around proudly.

"Ellie and I came across this town on accident after we went through hell leavin' Boston. The folks here set up their own quarantine zone and with bigger fish to fry, FEDRA sort of left ‘em alone. They were kind enough to take us in," he says. "After that, more people started showin' up lookin' for safety. Lots of people who escaped the QZs or had been on their own for a while and were tired of runnin'."

"Ellie says you save people," you comment, taking a step forward as the line moves. "What's that mean?"

"Every flock needs a shepherd."

You’re at the front of the line now, standing in front of the window. A woman appears, her face lighting up when she sees Joel.

“Joel! How are you?” She asks, leaning onto the ledge. Behind her you can see people moving quickly and efficiently around a stainless steel kitchen, large pots of food simmering on the stovetop.

“Well enough,” he says. He places a hand on your shoulder. “We have a new guest. Make her plate nice and full for me?”

“Of course.”

She gathers a plate from a precarious stack, loading it with a heaping pile of food ranging from mashed potatoes and stew to colorful vegetables that you haven’t seen in ages, not since before the outbreak when you were seven and your dad would make dinner rather than pass you a ration package. You’re speechless as she hands you the plate with a kind smile, a mumbled thank you the best you can manage to show your gratitude.

Joel is handed a plate as well and you follow him to a table where Ellie sits next to a man with white hair, her plate already empty in front of her. The man looks up at Joel as you approach, his expression closed off and wary.

“Michael,” Joel says in greeting, jaw ticking. You take a seat beside Ellie, who to your surprise moves closer to you, arm brushing yours. “You botherin’ Ellie?”

The man, Michael, shakes his head. “No, sir. We were just having a little talk.”

“What about?” Joel sits on the opposite side of the table. He rips his bread roll in half.

“Just some concerns I was having.”

“You bring your concerns to me. Not to her.”

The two men stare at each other, the tension thick and impossible to ignore. Finally, Michael gets up, leaving the table without another word. Ellie’s shoulder’s lose their tension and Joel catches her eye, the two of them seeming to have an entire conversation in just a look.

The moment passes and Joel’s features relax, a smile tilting the corners of his lips as he returns his attention to you and gestures to your plate.

“Dig in,” he says.

Joel walks you back to his home after dinner, the sky now dark. Ellie’s already closed herself in her room by the time the two of you return, having left the mess hall before you had finished eating.

“Tired again?” Joel asks when you yawn, mouth open wide as you stretch your arms above your head.

Your expression is sheepish as you say, “A little bit.”

“That’s to be expected,” he assures you. “You fought a hard fight. It’s okay to relax now. I’ve got you.”

“Thank you.” Your fingers tangle in the hem of the t-shirt he’d given you earlier. “I don’t know if I’ve said that already.”

“You’re welcome. Come on, let’s get you back upstairs. You can use the shower and get to bed.”

“Oh my god, a shower sounds amazing.”

He shows you the bathroom and helps you get the water running. Once he shows you where to find a towel, you smile gratefully before shutting the door on him.

Dismissed, Joel makes his way to Ellie’s room, knocking on the door. She answers quickly, opening up only enough for him to see her face.

“Yeah?” She asks.

“Can I come in?”

She rolls her eyes but opens the door further, allowing him inside. Her room is smaller than his but far more decorated, pages ripped out of old magazines and comic books tacked to the wall. She takes a seat on her single bed, folding her legs beneath her.

“What did Michael talk to you about?” He asks. She shrugs her shoulders. Joel bites back a sigh. Sometimes he forgets what it was like to reason with a teenage girl. “Ellie.”

“He said” — she pauses, scratching at her wrist in the way that she will when she’s anxious — “he said that you were full of shit. That your fucked up ceremony isn’t helping any of them.”

Joel’s teeth grind together. “That all?”

“Called me a stupid kid for following what you say,” she mumbles. “Said everyone in town was stupid for believing you.”

“Thank you for tellin’ me,” he says. Rage burns in his veins as he turns to leave.

“What are you gonna do?” Ellie asks as he reaches the door.

“I’m goin’ to teach him a lesson.”

He pulls the door shut behind him, tilting his head against the wood with a sigh. The click of a latch down the hall precedes your quiet, “Joel?”

Joel turns to face you, surprised to find you standing just outside the bathroom door with a towel tucked around your body. Water glistens on your skin in the low light, drawing his eyes down your neck and across your chest. He clears his throat.

“Everythin’ alright?” He asks.

“Yeah, everything is fine,” you murmur. “I…could I get some new clothes?”

“Of course, should’a given you some before you showered. Sorry about that.”

Joel walks past you, entering his bedroom and approaching the dresser. He tugs the top drawer open, full of clothing he’d gathered while you’d been asleep for more than a day. He piles together another t-shirt, sleep pants, and underwear, setting them on the bed for you.

You’re standing in the doorway when he finishes and he fights the urge to go to you, to pull you close, to run his wretched hands over your body like he’s wanted to since he first saw you in the forest.

He doesn’t, though. Not yet. You still have much to learn.

“Here you go,” he says. “Some more stuff in the drawers for you if you need it.”

Joel leaves you to get ready for bed, shutting the door behind him. He heads downstairs to grab what he’ll need, essentials shoved in a bag thrown over his shoulder before venturing off into the night.

Only a few lights continue to illuminate windows as Joel walks through the residential area. The house he approaches at the end of a street is already dark, quiet beyond the wood door that he knocks on three times. The door opens slowly, Michael appearing in the small space.

“What?” He grunts.

“Come take a walk,” Joel says. Michael rolls his eyes, moving to shut the door but Joel’s boot blocks his effort. “I ain’t askin’, Michael.”

“Oh, yeah? What are you going to do?” He challenges. Joel throws his weight against the door, catching Michael by surprise enough for him to step into the house.

Joel throws an elbow into the man’s gut, making him double over with a groan. He circles behind him, kicking the back of his knee to send him to the ground. He pulls a length of chain from his pocket, looping it around Michael’s neck and pulling the ends.

Michael struggles, clawing at the garotte and thrashing wildly, but Joel holds strong. He tightens his grip further until Michael’s fight becomes sluggish, lack of oxygen finally causing him to go limp.

Joel releases the chain and Michael’s body slumps to the ground. He removes his backpack, digging through the contents until he finds a rusted pair of handcuffs that he uses to bind Michael’s arms behind his back. Next, he places a strip of duct tape over his mouth.

When he wakes, Joel will lead him out past the gate. He will find an unassuming home that rests outside the boundary of Crestone. He will open the hidden doors of the cellar, the ones covered in a layer of leaves and grass. From the darkness he will hear the echo of desperate groans and the rattle of chains and the angry attempts to break free from bindings. He will lead Michael down the dirt steps, the smell of rot and fear and death clawing at his olfactory nerves.

He will place a burlap bag over a struggling Michael’s head and the man will beg and plead in words muffled by tape. Then, Joel will offer him for judgment.

A hand on you shoulder shakes you awake, the room still mostly dark when you manage to open your eyes. You groan, pulling the quilt up over your head.

“C’mon, we gotta get to breakfast,” Ellie says. The cover gets yanked down and she gives you a mischievous grin.

“Where’s Joel?” You ask, sitting up slowly. She shrugs.

“Probably there already.”

You swing your legs over the side of the bed and stand, stretching your arms up. You grab the same jeans and socks from the day before, changing into them quickly and sitting down on the floor to pull your sneakers on. Ellie watches you, her foot tapping impatiently.

“You can go without me if you’re in a rush,” you offer. She shakes her head.

“I’m fine,” she says quickly. “You ready?”

“Sure.”

You follow her out of the house, her clipped pace difficult to keep up with due to your lingering pain. As the sun starts to rise and you pass by more of the houses, you notice something peculiar about some of them.

“What’s that?” You ask, pausing in front of one the houses. There’s a streak of what looks like dark red paint across the top of the door. Ellie doubles back and stands beside you.

“Protection,” she says.

“From what?”

She shifts her weight from foot to foot, uncomfortable with your line of questioning. Rather than answer, she walks away, leaving you to catch up to her or be left behind.

As the two of you start to walk through the square, there’s a rush of people around you. Shouting can be heard up ahead as a crowd comes into view, gathered around the front of the mess hall building. People press in close together, craning their necks to see over each other and catch a glimpse of whatever spectacle has their attention.

Ellie pushes through the crowd and you follow close on her heels until she manages to break through the other side of the wall of people. You catch glimpses of something writhing on the ground, something animal but not quite, something failed and fetid and foul. Another peek affords you a view of an arm littered with bite marks shaped by blunt teeth, deep gouges into their skin that shine red with blood and fester with disease.

Joel appears, stepping around the side of the building. The whispers cease, the crunch of Joel’s boots and pained groans the only noise to be heard in the stale air.

His dark eyes scan the crowd. People shrink back from his gaze, pressing closer to each other for relief. He reaches down, curling his fingers into the burlap material and yanking it off to reveal a man, familiar and yet not recognizable. Unseeing eyes, ashen skin, and dark red veins now the hallmark characteristics of the man you now remember as the one who had been talking to Ellie in the dining hall.

Joel draws a gun from his back, aiming it at Michael’s head. “Let this be a lesson,” he says, pulling the trigger.

The shot rings out, making you jump. The agonized sounds come to abrupt halt and his body goes limp, eyes still open as blood blooms on the ground around him.

“No blood spilled. No blood saved,” Joel says. You look up from the horrible scene and meet his hard gaze. You step back, turning and shoving your way through the crowd.

Then, you run.

You’re frantically shoving clothing into your bag when a door slams downstairs and heavy footsteps climb the stairs at a quick pace. You can feel the burn of Joel's eyes on your back, his presence in the room thick and cloying as you refuse to turn around, even when he murmurs your name.

He moves closer, a hand on your shoulder prompting you to turn to break the connection. He holds his hands up in surrender, taking a step back as he says, "Let me explain."

"Explain? Explain?! How the fuck do you explain that?!" You snap.

"If you'll just listen--"

"There's nothing you could possibly say that will--"

"Ellie is immune!" He shouts. Your words die on the tip of your tongue, lost to ether as you stare at Joel.

"W-what do you mean? Immune?" You ask.

He takes a deep breath. "I told you what my friend said. 'Save who you can save'. The first person I saved was Ellie."

"I helped her out of Boston, kept her safe, nearly lost my life if it meant keepin' her alive," He continues. "That's what I offer here."

"So you think you're....what? Some kind of god? That you can grant immunity?"

He huffs a laugh, the noise devoid of any humor. "God abandoned his worst experiment in their time of need. There is no god anymore, just the poor creatures he left behind. Someone had to take up the mantle."

"But how?"

"The ceremony," he says.

"That’s not a fucking answer, Joel!” You shout. “What fucking ceremony?!”

“Blood spilled for blood saved. You can’t make it in this world without givin’ your everythin’ first.” He lifts the bottom of his shirt, just enough to reveal a jagged scar to the right of his belly button, shiny scar tissue disrupting smooth tan skin. “I did this for Ellie. Now everyone else has to do it for themselves.”

“I don’t…I don’t understand.” You take a small step closer to inspect the wound, raising your hand and reaching out with a tentative touch. Joel inhales sharply as you run your fingers across the puckered flesh.

His hand wraps around your wrist, pulling your hand up and holding it against his chest. “It’ll be easier to show you, okay? There’s a ceremony in a couple days.”

“I don’t—“

“You’re just afraid because this is somethin’ new, but I promise you that you got nothin’ to be scared of. I’ll take care of you.” He lifts a hand to your face, tilting your chin with his thumb. “I just need you to trust me.”

His eyes are honest, earnest, pleading with you to believe him and the longer you search them, the more truth you seem to find. He will take care of you. You just know it.

“Okay.”

Dinner is served early on the day of the ceremony, the room buzzing with excited conversation. You haven’t seen Joel much the last few days, just passing glimpses, and Ellie says it’s because he has a lot to prepare for. Tonight there’s a woman at his side wearing a white dress that flows to the floor, black hair braided down her back. She smiles at Joel, hanging on every word you can’t hear. It makes your stomach clench in a weird way when her hand curls around his bicep and her head leans against his shoulder.

“That’s Marcy. She’s volunteered for the ceremony,” Ellie says. She’s sitting across from you, a smirk on her lips. “S’why she’s been hanging around Joel the last few days. Joel’s gotta prepare her.”

“Oh,” is all you manage to reply, picking at the vegetables on your plate. “What does…what does he do? To prepare her.”

She shrugs. “Dunno.”

You glance at the pair. Joel leans in close to the woman, whispering into her ear. Your fingernails dig into the meat of your palm, your hands curled into tight fists beneath the table. He stands, a hand on the woman’s shoulder as he calls the people to attention, voices fading until silence envelops the room.

“Tonight,” Joel says, “another is to be saved. And we will all bear witness to the gift of deliverance that only self-sacrifice can grant.”

It’s only a few words, but the power in them is palpable as you glance around the room at the entire town watching him with rapt attention. His eyes meet yours.

“Save who you can save,” he intones. A chill runs down your spine.

“Save who you can save,” the town echoes back.

The sun is already low on the horizon, twilight casting a soft glow on the scene. You stand at the back of the crowd, watching as Joel leads Marcy onto a raised wooden platform. Another man joins them, passing something wrapped in cloth into Joel’s outstretched hands.

“The thing about the world today,” Joel says, unwrapping the cloth to reveal a large knife, “is that there ain’t a single guarantee.” He looks out over the crowd. “Except here, within these walls. Why? Because here you’ll make the greatest sacrifice and earn the greatest reward.”

He begins to pace the length of the platform, knife in hand. “Givin’ your blood in exchange for your safety? That doesn’t sound so bad, right?” The people around you nod their heads in agreement. “You’ve seen what that sacrifice can do. I did it for Ellie. I did it for myself. And tonight—“ he places a hand on Marcy’s shoulder “—another has made the choice to earn that gift of protection.”

A cheer erupts, spreading through the crowd through shouts and applause. You find yourself joining them, clapping your hands together as you continue to watch Joel.

“Marcy,” Joel says. “What brings you here today?”

“No blood spilled, no blood saved,” she recites dutifully.

“Are you afraid?” He asks.

“No,” she says.

“Why?”

“Because I trust in your protection.”

Joel smiles at her, beaming with pride, and that knot in your stomach from earlier returns with a vengeance. You want him to look at you like that.

He stands in front of her, blocking her from view with his body. A hush falls over the crowd and from the silence erupts an anguished scream. You flinch, the sound piercing and painful and petrifying, though it seems to have taken nobody else by surprise.

Another scream as he jerks his arm back, the knife in his hand now stained with red that slides down the blade, dripping to the wood beneath his feet. He steps to the side and you can see the woman now, her hands pressed to her belly. Crimson blooms beneath her hands, marring her pretty white dress and leaching the color and vitality from her face. She drops to her knees and so does Joel, who wraps an arm around her shoulders and gently guides her until she’s lying on her back. He holds her hand and smooths her hair from her face as she just repeats, “Thank you.”

Slowly, the strength in her voice fades. Her arm goes limp in his grasp, dropping to the floor with a dull thud as her eyes flutter shut. Joel whistles sharply, three men rushing up the platform and lifting the girl into their arms, careful not to jostle her too much. Joel remains kneeling, his head turning to scan the crowd.

“We are born covered in blood,” he says. “It gives you protection from the outside world when you’re wrenched from the womb. And it will protect you now as it is wrenched from you.”

He steps off the platform and walks past the crowd, heading for the residential street. Everyone shuffles forward, moving en masse like sheep following their shepherd or cattle to the slaughter. You’re led to one of the smaller homes and you watch as Joel smooths the flat of the blade across his hand, gathering blood in his palm.

He places his palm on the door, smearing the blood across the faded blue paint. When he’s done, he turns to face the crowd.

“Marcy has earned her protection. Those of you among us that have not yet made your sacrifice, may you return home this evenin’ and realize that each passin’ day is a wasted opportunity for your salvation.” His serious expression softens as he smiles. “No blood spilled.”

“No blood saved,” the crowd says.

To your surprise, the words fall easily from your lips.

Joel shuts the door quietly behind him. He’s just finished checking on Marcy and was pleased to find that her wound has been dressed and she’s recovering well. At the kitchen sink he runs the water as hot as he can tolerate and scrubs his hands clean.

He can hear faint footsteps upstairs, the sound of your pacing back and forth in his bedroom. He’s pleased that you stayed through the entire ceremony, didn’t run away filled with fear or disgust like you had watching him make an example out of Michael.

There’s hope for you yet.

Joel dries his hands on a towel and heads upstairs. He glances at Ellie’s room out of habit, though he knows it’s empty. She likes to help out after the ceremony, usually sticking beside the town nurse, Shelly, as she monitors the person who participated in the ceremony over night.

The door to his bedroom is shut but he can see that the light is on, the glow of it seeping out from the gap beneath the door. He knocks, three sharp raps of his knuckles, and waits.

You pull the door open, and Joel is once again struck by how much he wants you, how much he’s craved you since the first time he saw you. You look up at him with wide eyes but he doesn’t sense any fear as you pull the door open further and step back to let him enter.

“You doin’ okay?” He asks, shutting the door quietly behind him. You’re standing with your arms wrapped around yourself, nodding quietly. Joel moves closer, tentatively reaching out to tilt your chin up so that he’s looking into your eyes. “Talk to me.”

“I….,” your voice trails off. You take a breath. “I want that protection.”

He was hoping you would say that. Relief floods through him.

“I can’t do that,” he says. Your brows pinch together, hurt flashing across your features. “I won’t have your blood on my hands.”

“But—“

“Listen to me—“ his hands frame your face, thumbs smoothing over the high points of your cheeks “—you’re meant for somethin’ different here.”

“Something different?” You repeat. You shake your head slightly. “I don’t understand.”

“From the moment I saw you, I knew I couldn’t let you lose a drop,” he whispers. “You don’t need to bleed, sweetheart. Not like them. I’ll protect you myself.”

Your mouth drops open the slightest bit, drawing Joel’s gaze. He slides his thumb across your bottom lip, mesmerized by the softness of it. There’s not much about his life the last twenty or so years that he would call soft.

There was his brother, Tommy, even though they couldn’t see eye to eye and had to part ways. His daughter, Sarah, before the outbreak. She took care of him, made sure he took his vitamins and packed his lunch and didn’t miss a parent-teacher conference. She was light and joy, his heart outside of his body, and she was ripped from his grasp.

There was Tess, who was not a soft person but was a soft place to land among the carnage. Bill, ornery though he was, and Frank, arguably his better half. They were a breath of normalcy, even when Bill had a gun trained on him. Ellie, once she quit being a pain in the ass and wormed her way into his heart with her promise to follow him wherever he went.

And now there was you.

“Will you let me do that?” Joel asks. “Protect you?”

You lift your hands, delicate fingers wrapping around his wrists. He wonders if you can feel the rapid beat of his heart, his pulse pounding beneath your grip. Finally, after a long moment, you whisper, “Yes.”

Joel captures your lips with his, swallowing your gasp of surprise. You’re tentative, a bit clumsy with your movements as you kiss back and he pulls away, leaning his forehead to yours.

“I-I’m sorry,” you murmur. “I’ve never—“

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll take care of you.”

While his words don’t stop your pulse from racing, they do calm your nerves the slightest bit. It’s not that you’ve never been interested in sex, there was just never a good opportunity. Going through puberty in an apocalypse where a militant government faction monitors your every move in exchange for basic necessities wasn’t exactly conducive to forming intimate relationships.

While you’re lost in your thoughts, Joel moves you backwards until your legs hit the mattress and he urges you to sit down. He kneels in front of you, working on the laces of your sneakers, removing them and setting them to the side. He looks up at you as he removes your socks and you’re not sure if you're supposed to find the sight of him kneeling at your feet as sexy as you do, but a rush of warmth rolls through you all the same.

He runs his palms up your legs, across your thighs, until his fingertips find the waist of your jeans, popping the button of the fly and pulling the zipper down.

“Lift your hips a bit, sweetheart,” he says, working the denim down and off your legs, tossing them aside. His hands return to your thighs, goosebumps erupting along their path to your hips.

“No one’s touched you here?” He asks, here being the soft skin of your inner thigh that his thumbs sweep across. You shake your head. He moves higher, a featherlight touch over the elastic of your underwear that makes you gasp. “What about here?”

“N-no,” you manage to whisper. He smiles at you, the same proud smile he’d given Marcy that you were so desperate to have for yourself.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. He kisses the inside of your knee quickly before sitting up higher, reaching up to lift your shirt up, tugging it over your head and dropping it onto the growing pile of your clothing.

“Lie back for me,” Joel commands. You shift up the mattress and follow his instruction, bringing your arms up to cover your exposed breasts. He makes a dissatisfied click with his tongue, pulling your arms away as he crawls up the mattress to settle between your legs.

“None of that,” he admonishes, planting your hands by your head. He kisses your lips again, butterflies erupting in your stomach when his tongue tangles with yours, hot and demanding. He palms one of your breasts, hands rough on the delicate skin. “This is mine, do you understand?”

Joel brings his mouth to your breast, tongue swirling over your stiff nipple. You cry out, the foreign sensation making more heat rush through you, leaving you throbbing between your thighs. He looks up at you through his lashes as he sucks your nipple between his lips, releasing it with a lewd pop.

“Mine to touch,” he says, leaning on one arm to trail his fingers down your stomach. “Mine to kiss.” His lips trace the same heated path. “Mine to protect.”

When he reaches your underwear, he pulls back. “Look at that,” he murmurs, thumb rubbing across the gusset, making you whimper and squirm. “You’ve soaked your panties, sweetheart.”

Your face feels hot with embarrassment. “‘M sorry,” you mumble.

“Sorry? Ain’t nothin’ you need to be sorry about,” he says with a chuckle. He sits up, working your only remaining barrier between you down your legs. He spreads your legs with his hands on your thighs. “Goddamn, you look so pretty, baby.”

“Really?” You ask. His answering grin is wolfish.

“So pretty,” he repeats. He settles on his belly, face so close to your pussy you can feel the warmth of his breath against your heated flesh. “Gotta get you ready.”

Your response to the question is cut off with a high pitched moan as Joel runs his tongue through your folds, circling your clit with broad strokes. You try to close your legs against the sensation but his strong hands keep your thighs pinned down near the mattress.

He groans as he sets a slow and measured pace, alternating attention to your clit with dipping his tongue inside of you, dragging your essence from the source. Your hands clench in the sheets, chasing and retreating from the overwhelming sensation in equal measure.

There’s a blunt pressure that turns into a slight pinch as Joel slips a finger into your tight heat. Your head tilts back with a high keening noise and you’re panting, desperate for breath as he moves his hand in tandem with his tongue.

One finger becomes two that thrust and curl and part inside of you, stretching you in unfamiliar ways. It feels good, and all you want is more, more, more.

Joel’s hand moves quickly and he sucks on your clit, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bundle of nerves until that flood of relief that you’ve only accomplished a handful of times on your own washes over you, your back arching sharply off the mattress as you shout his name like a prayer to the heavens.

His motions slow to a stop and he leaves the bed. You hear the clink of a belt and the rustle of clothing being removed before his weight returns between your legs, a new heat to be felt against your flushed skin with his clothes no longer in the way. With shaky hands you reach up to touch him, starting at his shoulders.

You trail your hands across his warm tan skin, down his hard chest and softer belly. That scar, the one that frightened you before, leaves you breathless as you run your fingers over it now. He’s so strong, so powerful, and he wants you. Wants to protect you so that you don’t know that same pain.

“Joel,” you whisper. He leans forward, hands on the mattress beside your head. He kisses you, slow and all encompassing. You can feel the hard length of his sliding through the mess he’s made of you and you gasp.

“Let me make one thing clear,” he says, face serious, “there ain’t any goin’ back from this. You’re mine. You got that?”

“I trust you,” you reply. Your response earns you a deep groan from the man, a kiss to your forehead that precedes the blunt head of his cock pressing to your soaked entrance.

His cock is thicker, much thicker, than his fingers were and you whine at the intrusion. His shushes you, peppering your face with soothing kisses.

“I don’t think—“

“You’re doin’ so good, sweetheart, I know you can handle it,” Joel says. “Take a deep breath, just a little more.”

Tension gives way, a sharp pinch that turns into an ache as Joel presses his hips firmly against yours. He kisses your neck and trails his nose across your sweat damp skin, holding still as you adjust to his girth.

You shift your hips the slightest bit and Joel’s moan echoes your gasp. “Tell me I can move,” he begs, another desperate kiss pressed to your lips. “Please, baby.”

There’s something heady about the power you have in this brief moment, a man like Joel begging you for something when he’s used to having everything. You nod and that’s all the encouragement he needs to draw back slowly, that fullness leaving you inch by inch, before thrusting sharply.

It’s unlike any experience you’ve had before — the way his body moves with yours, the flex of his muscles above you, the intense look in his eyes each time he presses inside of you.

“Made for me,” he murmurs. “Mine.”

“Yours,” you agree, moaning as each drag of his cock presses against a tender spot inside of you that has your stomach tightening rapidly.

His effort doubles, hips slamming hard enough to make the headboard bang against the wall. You dig your nails into his back, watch the clench of his jaw against the sting, and moan his name as you succumb to the feeling of free falling into bliss, clenching around his cock.

“That’s it, sweetheart, fuck,” he growls, hips stilling against yours as warmth pulses inside of you, his mouth dropped open on a groan of your name.

Joel takes a moment to catch his breath before withdrawing from you. He reaches his hand between your legs, pressing his fingers into your swollen pussy as you gasp.

He holds those fingers up, the light catching on the red staining them.

Perhaps you’d spilled blood for your safety after all.

You wake to the early morning light filtering through the window, a noticeable ache between your legs as you begin to stir. You’re naked, having fallen asleep in Joel’s arms last night, his lips caressing your neck until you’d drifted off and dreamt of blood and wolves. You stretch your limbs, encountering only cold sheets as you do.

As you sit up, you realize the sound of rushing water is the shower and surmise that Joel must be in there. With stiff movements you leave the warmth of the bed and approach the dresser, tugging open the top drawer to find clothing for the day.

You’re reaching for underwear when your fingers catch on something cold, metal in a sea of fabric. You pull on the object, unearthing it from its hiding spot and holding it up for inspection.

A cross, hanging from a silver chain. A chain you would tangle your fingers in as a child, a cross that a thumb would rub across as a deep, familiar voice muttered prayers.

The shower turns off and you take one last look at the crucifix before setting it back into the dark corner you’d unearthed it from.

Then, you shut the drawer.

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merlot-and-chardonnay · 4 months

Text

A Lark Among the Wolves and Dragons: Chapter 30

Chapter 29

Masterlist

Now we introduce another character from the video games.

Aemma found herself standing in the middle of a forest...or at least she was. There was snow on the ground, but last she checked, there was no snow anywhere in this part of the world at this time of year.

She looked to the sky to see it was overcast, and when she looked around to take in her surroundings once more, she could see the terrain was a little more mountainous then what she remembered. Did that little miracle that saved her once before actually work this time around?

Aemma noticed the wounds from her encounters with the Crones and the nekkers were absent from her body. How was this possible? Even if they somehow healed over, they should've left scars (also in that moment, Aemma wondered about how she would have to explain such afflictions should she find herself betrothed once again and eventually wedded).

Aemma heard sounds, noises that sounded like people who were in conversation. She followed the voices and hid behind a tree when she saw the figures. A man and a woman were hiking this mountain trail; the man was on the taller side with short dark hair and a long magenta coat. Strapped to his back was a gold looking lute, similarly crafted like the one her mother left behind the day she disappeared from Maegor's Holdfast. The woman had long dark hair and wore a cloak, trying her best to keep up with the man.

The woman stopped for a brief moment, catching her breath which fogged up from the cold as she exhaled. The man stopped, concern in his expression, "We can stop for the night if you want," he offers. The woman shakes her head, "No, brother, we have to keep going," she insists, "we gotta get to Kaer Morhen as quickly as possible we...I can't stop until I know I'll be safe." The man frowned a bit, placing a hand on the woman's shoulder, "why is this so important to you, sister?" he questions, "who are you afraid of that you must seek refuge in a...well less then ideal stronghold, castle, uh, whatever it is." The woman shakes her head, "I can't say." "Why not?" "I just can't." "(y/n)-" "I can't risk endangering you anymore then I already have!"

The man was taken aback by the outburst, "I'm sorry, Julian," the woman says, "for the sake of this little one, I just can't say. No one can know."

The scene changed before Aemma had time to react.

She heard laughter, that also came from a man and woman. The same woman she saw before, her name being (y/n), and the man...his voice she recognized right away; it was her father. The scene before her, Aemma realized was a bedchamber somewhere back in the Red Keep. Did that mean this (y/n)...was she Aemma's mother.

Aemma followed the voices, into an open area with a bed. The princess's eyes widen in embarrassment and her face heating up as she saw more of her father then she ever cared to see. Her mother, on the other hand was wearing a sheer black robe as she laid in next to Daemon...yeah, still a little too much then Aemma would have ever cared to see, no matter how much she'd yearned to see her mother after so many years.

She turned around, practically fanning her face to cool off, which was difficult as she could hear both her parents talking.

"So, what does my lady wish for right now?" Daemon inquires of the Lady of Larks, "if you could wish for anything at this moment, what would it be?" "Hmmmm," (y/n) pretends to ponder, "I've really been craving a pierogi lately," she admits, "A dozen pierogis sounds really good right about now." "What is a pierogi?" "It's sorta like a pastry stuffed with...well you can fill with all sorts of things," (y/n) explains, "Meats, cheese, vegetables, or even fruits. Mmmm, potato, onion, and cheese, oh how heavenly that sounds." "Well I can see if any of the kitchen cooks know how to make something of the sort," Daemon says as he reaches out to stroke his lover's arm.

"Daemon," (y/n) warns, "don't even think about it." "I have no idea what you're talking about, Little Lark." (y/n) rolls her eyes in response. "Will you at least sing to me?" Daemon lightly pleads. "*sighs*, I've already sung so much today, my vocal cords have gone raw," (y/n) sighs, "I need to rest them so I can entertain your niece tomorrow," she moves about so she was resting on top of Daemon, "if I didn't know better I would say you want me horse so others will know of our...clandestine affairs." "You put words in my mouth, Little Lark," Daemon says with a smirk, placing a hand on her backside, and giving her a kiss.

"Why don't you sing to me for a change, Prince?" (y/n) offers, "surely you have an exceptional singing voice." "None compared to you," Daemon says, "your own voice is so beautiful even the larks will stay silent if only to listen for a few mere moments." "Mmmmm, faux humility doesn't quite suit you Daemon," (y/n) admits, "come on, indulge me for once. Maybe something in that seductive language of yours perhaps?"

"...I might know something of the sort," Daemon tells her before he begins his song. It was a song Aemma recognized; a song she remembered her father singing occasionally to Aemma and her sisters, and one that Jaehaerys himself had supposedly sang to his dragon Vermithor.

The song for some reason gave Aemma a sense of foreboding, when it in fact should've given her a sense of comfort as it brought her back to happier times spent with her family.

The scene faded before Aemma as she turned and reached out, whether to her father...or to her mother, she could not say for certain.

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

Aemma groaned as she started to come to. She found herself laying on her back again, on a cot of some sort, at least from what she could feel. As her vision slowly started coming to, she could see the outline of what looked to be a wooden ceiling. The princess tried to move, which was possible, but came with its own pain. She slowly worked her way to sitting up, the blanket covering her had fallen off and rested on her lap. The leathers that had covered her top half were gone, not that they would've been much use at the point given the tears and the fact it had been caked in mud at this point from her constant tripping in the bog.

Aemma noticed her small clothes were still on, but underneath she could see the bandages: One wrapped around her scrapped knee from when she fell off Cirillia and a larger one wrapped around her chest and shoulders from where the nekker got her. There was even a small bandaged wrapped around her hand from when she made the cut to present her blood to the Crones.

Fighting through the pain, Aemma managed to sit up, head spinning like she's recently been giving milk of the poppy...actually she's never been given that stuff before, but it's a feeling she imagines what it would feel like based on seeing the maesters give the poppy to various people in her life such as her uncle when he experienced pain or her stepmother or cousin when either of them went through labor. She tries to stand up with hopes of looking for her clothes and getting out of this place, wherever it was.

"You should not be moving so much in the state you are in," a deepish voice catches Aemma's attention; the princess looks around, trying to match a person to that voice, "over here," he calls over to her. Aemma turned to the person that presumably treated her wounds. A tall man stood by the doorway of this little hut, dressed in green, a bow strapped to his back, and short dark hair with two small braids in front. He also possessed two pointed ears, a lot more prominent then the ones on Ivan. Aemma's eyes widen some when she realized she was in the presence of an elf; a full blooded elf.

"You're...you...." "An elf?" the elf finishes for her, "I suppose I should expect such a reaction from someone who doesn't many of my kind, if ever."

At this point, Aemma picked up he was also slurring his words, and the glazed look in his eyes, as if he had a few too many drinks. Great, she thinks, and I thought Aegon's drinking was bad. She also looked down to see she was still in her underwear. She wrapped her arms in embarrassment, turning to quickly grab the blanket in an attempt to hide herself from this stranger.

"Are you the one who tended to my injuries?" she asks. "I am," the elf confirms, "with a little help from the village herbalist. My name is Cedric. I have been waiting for you for some time, Princess Aemma." Aemma's eyes widen at this realization that Cedric knew who she was; she also felt herself tensing up, as the last time someone claimed they have been expecting her for some time, it didn't end well for her, "I don't...how did...?" "I simply know," Cedric tells her, "I know certain things, things that have happened, and things yet to come. All this in spite of turning to drink as my vice if only to forget for a short while; hmmm, I believe that is the reason why many turn to drink. You can think of me as Daenys the Dreamer in a sense, if that makes you feel more comfortable."

Aemma was silent for a bit before she remembered the last thing she saw before she passed out, "how did you get me out of the pit trap I fell into?" she asks as she sits back down on the cot, "and how did you drive the nekkers away?" "I didn't," Cedric answers, "the Scoia'tel took care of that for me. They had plans for you the moment they saw you, especially from their commander. It appears he still holds a grudge against your father after all these years. I don't know why, the elves who perished at his hands should've known better then to confront a full grown dragon head on." "My father...," Aemma mutters, remembering her vision before she woke up.

It was two different visions, actually; one where her mother and father were laying in his chambers enjoying each other's company, clearly happy and in love, but the scene before that showed Aemma's mother fleeing into the mountains in hopes of seeking some kind of refuge in a place hidden. What was it called? Kaer Morhen, she remembered. But it didn't make any kind of sense. Aemma's mother was intent of reaching this place with hopes that no one would find her, all while she was with child, that child presumably being Aemma, and she didn't want anyone to know who the father of this child was. Her father, prince Daemon.

By why? What made her leave? Why would she leave her father when the two had looked so happy together, none of it was making any sense.

"How did you save me from the Scoia'tel then?" Aemma asks, pulled from her thoughts when she saw Cedric swaying a bit in his drunk state. "Mmm, I knew you would be coming to these lands for some time...I knew it would be soon," he states, "I was taking a nice stroll through the forest, when I heard the commotion. I ran to investigate and saw the Scoia'tel had pulled your body out the pit and had just bound your hands and feet. The moment I saw your hair, your Valyrian features, I knew right away. I...persuaded the commander to release you into my custody. I was once one of them a lifetime ago, but I had left when I saw the futility of their cause. Nevertheless I still hold ties to some, to the commander, and reluctant as he was, he was willing to listen, though I sense he will not the next time he sees you. If I were you, I would watch your steps next time you set foot in that forest."

"Thank you," Aemma nods, "I...am grateful for your help." "You come seeking questions," Cedric states again like it's obvious, making Aemma tense again as that was another thing said to her in which the outcome wasn't good for her. But on the other hand, this man did save her life and tended her wounds thereafter. "Uh, yes I do," she admits, "but maybe I should wait a while...at least until you sober up some." "Then I am afraid you will be waiting a very long while," Cedric shrugs, still slurring his words, "we Aen Seidhe live very long lives, more so then humans. You may very well be on your own deathbed before that day ever comes." Aemma sighs a bit, annoyed as this wasn't the first drunk she's had to deal with, but at least Cedric wasn't an obnoxious drunk, unlike her cousin Aegon. "Fine," she concedes, "what do you know about me?"

"I know you come seeking questions," Cedric answers, "I know you are a princess from a realm across the sea, the daughter of a prince, a second son...and a daughter of a Continental whose voice has dubbed her a lady of birds...no larks, that's what it is." "The Lady of Larks, yes I know all that,"Aemma deadpans, "that's all anyone has ever told me about my mother, that she was a gifted singer, a troubaritz, that she and my father loved each other and I was a product of that love, that she disappeared into the night when I was still a tot. No one has ever deemed to tell me the whole story. Did my mother leave on her own? Or was she abducted by the White Wolf?"

"The White Wolf?" Cedric snorts, "him? Abducting anyone? Whoever told you those things?" "My...father?" Aemma frowns in confusion. "Hmm, interesting," Cedric mutters, "but not at all surprising." "What do you mean?" Cedric merely shakes his head. Aemma huffed, feeling annoyed; this elf may not be intent on killing her as the Crones had, but in the state he was in, it would be like pulling teeth trying to obtain any kind of concrete information out of him.

"Okay, then how about this?" Aemma changes the subject, "I was in a bog previously when I first came to the Continent. I was captured by these...witches, crones. I escaped then, but then I was almost captured by this giant figure in dark armor, astride a dark stallion. I was almost captured by this being, and then next thing I knew I was no longer in the bog anymore. I was in this forest. I don't know how that even happened."

"You've...the Wild Hunt," Cedric mutters almost like a revelation. "What?" "You escaped a huntsman from the Wild Hunt," the elf tells her. "What is the Wild Hunt?" "In this world, humans believe them to be wraiths," Cedric explains, "they are often seen riding through the sky. Often they raid villages and capture folks to take to their realm to become slaves for their kind. They are also seen by many as an omen of war." "Wraiths?" "In truth, what they are really is elves," Cedric says, "but not quite like my brethren the Aen Seidhe; they are the Aen Elle. The Hunt is their Dearg Ruadhri, their Red Riders, led by their general, the King of the Wild Hunt."

"So, they capture people in raids and make them their slaves," Aemma repeats, "is that what happened to my mother? Was she captured by the Wild Hunt after what happened to her in Rivia?" "In a manner of speaking," Cedric nods. "Will you please stop talking in riddles and just answer me outright?!" Aemma exasperates. "I cannot see the whole picture," Cedric tells her, and speaks before she could say anything, "and this would still be the case if I were stone cold sober. I foresaw the Rivian pogrom many years ago. I saw the many who died, who lived, and those who died only to return from the dead...your mother fits somewhere in the latter...as does the White Wolf. How this was accomplished, I cannot say. All I know is, they both live, and now they presumably run with the Red Riders."

"...is it because of my mother that one of the riders found me?" Aemma asks. "No, I do not believe so," Cedric answers, tilting his head slightly as he examined Aemma, "I believe it to be something else, something about you, princess." He approaches Aemma and takes his hand in hers, the bandaged one, "I see a strange aura about you; it feels strange, yet at the same time it is very familiar to me. I have felt something similar once before in a vision. Of a girl with ashen hair, one whose to determine the fate of this world. One whose...to a certain extent to determine if the vision once had by your forebear is to be fulfilled or not."

Aemma clenched her hands, slowly pulling away, "can you see that far into the future?" "I can see different outcomes, the future is not always set in stone," Cedric tells her, "sometimes it depends on destiny, other times it depends on the choices we make." "What choice must I make then?" "I cannot say for certain," Cedric shakes his head, "but I can offer a starting place for you, young princess. It is clear to me you possess a special gift, one that was given to you by accident, but one that had inadvertently saved your life not more then a day ago. You must learn to understand this power of yours, it may well help to understand your past as well as determine the course of your future, as well as the future of your family, especially if any of them are to survive the Dance that is to come."

"The...Dance?" Aemma frowns again. "A Dance of Dragons," Cedric simply elaborates, sighing some as if he knew the outcome already, "a house divided cannot stand, something your uncle the king seems to understand greatly, and something he seemed to attempt to instill into you."

Aemma looked down to the floor, knowing Cedric was right about that. She remembered how adamant her uncle had been to her about keeping the family together, and it was the reason why she had put with Aegon for as long as she did when she was still betrothed to him.

Cedric then went over to grab a tunic and toss it over to Aemma along with her leathers, at least the leathers that were ruined, which was mostly her leggins, boots, and gloves, "I'm afraid this is all I have to offer," the elf tells her, "if you do wish to understand what you possess, I would suggest starting by going to the place of your birth."

Aemma was confused by this, "I...how am to understand this so called gift of mine at Dragonstone?" Cedric swayed some before he answered, "go to the place of your birth, Aemma, you will begin to understand when you reach that place. Now," he opens the door, "I believe you are well enough to resume your journey. I would suggest heading West, you may find someone in that direction you would not expect. Follow your destiny, Aemma, and I wish you the best of luck."

Aemma nods, and once she got her clothes back on, Cedric handed her a pack of goods and showed her out. Once on solid ground, Aemma headed west as Cedric told her.

Once alone, the elf snorted some before he took a couple swigs of vodka, "Dragonstone," he mutters to himself, "why on earth would she go to Dragonstone? She was not born there..."

Chapter 31

#hotd #the witcher #daemon targaryen #daemon #daemon x reader #geralt x reader #cedric #aen seidhe #scoia'tael #oc

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razor-dragon · 2 years

Text

The Hunt Part.4

Note: You asked for it, and after a very long break, I delivered. Hope you all enjoy. Part 4, “Team Bonding”.

Warnings: safe vore, death mention, implied death/ digestion (none really happen), sorta willing and unwilling prey, a bit of DNF, swearing, and I think that’s all. Tell me if I need to add more.

“So... when did you figure out you could do this?” Sapnap asked. George closed the chest he was looting and stared silently at Sapnap, trying not to crack a smile. Dream didn’t even hear the question, he was busy trying to gather an army of wolves. George turned back to the chest and continued to loot it. Sapnap and Bad looked at each other. They had been prying at George for about 30 minutes, but George wouldn’t speak to them.

After a moment, George closed the chest again. He gave the two some of the stuff he had taken, because they weren’t even worried about winning the game. They just wanted to know about what they had seen last time. “George, come on. We want to know,” Bad tried, yet again, George just stared silently before walking past the two and out of the house.

He felt the communicator buzz. George took it out and checked it. On his screen was a private message from Dream “Are they even making advancements? Or are they just worried about what they saw?” He blocked out the noise of the two rambling on and replied to Dream “No, I’m working by myself. I have a feeling that with me one time more than you, and their lack of work is going to make this game go sideways.” Only now does George realize his teammates are reading over his shoulder. “So you do know what we are talking about, you’re just avoiding it,” Sapnap pries. George cracks a small smile and continues on his way.

...

After what felt like forever, they had made it to the Nether. Dream had slacked a bit for George, to make it at least somewhat fair, because Sapnap and Bad wouldn’t give up till they got what they wanted. Finally, George feels his communicator buzz. He checks it to see another message from Dream and hides the screen from the other two “I wasn’t gunna tell you this, but I have the potion. I can give them what their asking for”. The thought lingered in his head a moment, then he slightly chuckled to himself and replied “Go for it”.

It was an evil plan to say the least, but if the two wouldn’t shut up, he would gladly sacrifice his items to show them exactly what they’ve been asking about. It didn’t take long for Dream to show up to the Nether. George pretended it was no big deal, and just gathered blaze rods. George heard the slight sound of a footstep and smirked a bit to himself. He’s not even fazed when he hears the surprised shrieks of his teammates as glass shatters on the ground.

George shuts his eyes tight as his body compresses down. He only opens them when he’s snatched up. He sees his masked boyfriend in front of him, and he feels his teammates pressed against his back. Sapnap and Bad’s breathing picks up, obviously panicked. George just stays still, almost amused by the situation at this point. Dream reaches up with his free hand and moves his mask to the side “You keep nagging about it, so you’re getting a front row seat,” and with that, Dream puts the hunters in his mouth.

“What the muffin?!” Bad yells out in a panic. Sapnap was quiet but banged on Dream’s teeth in an attempt to escape. Bad brought out a torch and let up the mouth. He sees Sapnap panicking at the front of the mouth, George laying comfortably on the tongue, and Bad personally was to the side but not too close to the teeth. Dream’s tongue shifted and licked at all of them. Sapnap and Bad didn’t like it at all, but George didn’t seem to mind.

After a bit, Sapnap and Bad were pinned to the side of the mouth while George remained in place. Gravity shifted, and George made to move to fight back as he was dragged down the throat. Then Sapnap was taken to the middle, the same thing happened but Sapnap fought, hard. Then Bad joined them. When Bad’s journey ended, he fell right on top of someone. “Get off,” Sapnap complained, and Bad scrambled off him.

“Nice of you two to join me,” said George sounding amused. “What the hell, George. Get us out of here!” Sapnap yelled towards the direction he heard his friend’s voice. A light sizzling sound caught both Sapnap and Bad’s attention, making their hearts skip a beat. “Only one way out,” George replied. You could practically hear him smirking. Then they heard the sound of someone taking damage, then their communicators vibrated. George died.

Both the hunters groaned then reached out and touched the acid. They were insta-killed, and their vision went dark. After a moment, they sat up on the bed where they had set their spawn point. Both hunters looked at each other, then at George who was leaning against the wall by the door looking proud of himself. Then he says into the communicator “Thanks for giving me my team back Dream”. “No problem,” Dream replies with a slight chuckle. George grabs the extra gear he had put in the chest and distributed it among the three of them, then left to go after Dream.

The two stunned hunters sat on the bed with the gear sitting in their inventory, neither of them being able to wrap their heads around what had just happened. George on the other hand was making his was towards Dream, according to his compass. George pulled out his communicator and opened his private messages with Dream “You owe me cuddles now”. The sound of light chuckling came over the communicator, then Dream typed back “You’re clingy, you know that? I love that about you though. Alright, cuddles it is.” And with that, the game stretched on.

#mcyt g/t #mcytg/t #dsmp g/t #human!dream #tiny!badboyhalo #tiny!george #tiny!sapnap #tw vore mention #tw vore #shrink/grow #alternative reality #minecraft #dnf #dreamnotfound #safe vore

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dreamwritesimagines · 3 years

Text

Burn The Witch 23 - Haunted Heart [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, lovers to enemies, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Coming home can cause issues.

Series Masterlist

SIX MONTHS LATER

You flipped the knife in your hand as the guy tied to the chair glared at you.

“You know,” you trailed off, “I’ve had a really shitty couple of months, Johnny- can I call you Johnny?”

“No.”

“Rude,” you commented, “Fine. John. I’ve had a really shitty couple of months so you really don’t want to try me right now. Just tell me where I can find your boss.”

“You’ll never find him you stupid bitch.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Since I’m going to kill you in a couple of minutes I feel like I can share some things with you,” you said, “My best friend says I keep everything bottled and I should talk about my feelings.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“See, that’s exactly how I feel!” you pointed at him, “Thank you. I mean, I feel angry at myself. I kind of fucked up with the man I love.”

“Jesus Christ, just kill me already.”

“I’m waiting for a text to do that Johnny,” you pointed out, waving your phone at him. “So, I tricked him and used him and threw him to wolves. And then Accords 2.0 didn’t pass and he has been pardoned once again, and he’s a free man now. I have a strong feeling that he’s not the ‘forgive and forget’ type of guy. You know, assassin to assassin.”

“You’re the chattiest assassin I’ve ever met.”

“Thank you, I’m trying to improve myself,” you said, “I mean what exactly should I do? I don’t even trust my agency at this point, my handler lied to me and I have been at this fucking place for six months now, hunting you down. Well, your boss but…”

“You’ll never find him.”

“We’ll see about that my friend,” you said, “So anyway, like what am I supposed to do? I lost the one guy I actually loved. How do you cope with that? Because drinking doesn’t work, sleeping with others doesn’t work…. Nothing seems to—“ you were cut off when your phone vibrated and you touched the screen to open the text message.

From: Julian

Go for it.

“Wait, no no no, I’ll talk—“

“Kind of too late,” you pointed the gun at him, “Nice to meet you Johnny.”

With that you pulled the trigger, silencer doing its job as there was no loud bang or anything. His body fell back with the impact, and you heaved a sigh.

“Maybe I need a therapist I can’t kill,” you mumbled and walked out of the warehouse to approach the car before opening the door to the passenger seat to get in.

“Is it done?” Julian asked and you nodded, rubbing at your eyes.

“Yep.”

“Are you hungry?”

You made a face, “Just because the General sent you here does not mean we’re going to become buddies.”

“I’m not trying to become buddies with you,” Julian stated, “I just want to eat fries and there’s a two for one deal.”

You eyed him up and down.

“Fine, I could eat fries.” You leaned back in the seat as he started driving, keeping your eyes on the road. Soon enough, you reached the city center and Julian got fries from a food truck, then sat across from you.

“So,” he said, “You do realize this whole thing would’ve been over by now if we actually worked together?”

“I’m not going on the field with you.”

“The General sent me here to help you.”

You dipped the fry into sauce, then popped it into your mouth, “You can help me by pretending you’re not here.”

“Y/N.”

“You know what they say Julian. Fool me once…”

“Don’t tell me you’re still holding that grudge.”

“You mean when you left me behind to die on the last mission we were together?” you asked back, “That grudge?”

“I told you—“

“I’m not going to talk about that with you,” you cut him off, “And I work better alone. Who told you we could waste the guy by the way?”

“The General.”

You grabbed the salt shaker to pour some salt on the fries, causing Julian to make a face.

“Are you kidding me? That was salty enough-“

“Why did he not text me?”

“No idea. Maybe he’s avoiding you because he promised you handler and here you are. Field spy.”

Your jaw clenched.

Or maybe he’s avoiding me because he fucking lied to me.

You had to give it to him, it was the perfect plan. The moment he had suspected you were getting too close to Bucky, he had come up with the one thing he knew that would make you switch sides.

And that-

That was below the belt yes, but that was also masterly.

But at the end of the day, you barely had two people to trust in the entire world, and you seriously doubted you could ever forgive the General for what he had done. You knew he held duty above all, above family and surely above you, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

You shook your head at yourself and grabbed another piece of fry.

“So um…” Julian shifted his weight, “Are you okay?”

You shot him a glare, arching a brow, “Peachy.”

“No I mean… About Barnes.”

“What are you talking about?”

“This whole Accords 2.0 failure, there’s no way we could go after him again.”

“I don’t want to go after him again.”

“You don’t want revenge?”

That made you straighten up your back and you put the fry down, “And why exactly would I want revenge?”

That made Julian fall silent and you nibbled on your lip.

“What exactly did the General tell you before you came here?”

“That there was a job here.”

“Bullshit,” you replied way too quickly, “Did he send you here to be my babysitter? He thinks I’ll go after Barnes myself is that it? That’s why they sent you here months after I left the country but right after Accords 2.0 didn’t pass.”

Julian licked his lips.

“Listen, the agency wants to keep you safe—“ he started but then his phone beeped. He grabbed it to take aa look at the screen, then cussed under his breath.

“What?”

“Check your texts.”

You touched the screen and frowned as your eyes skimmed the text.

From: General

Time to come home.

“Well,” you muttered, your heart dropping to your stomach, “Shit.”

***

Coming back home was harder than ever now. After catching up with Keith and Chloe, you were taken to your new apartment that was given to you by the agency as usual, and for the whole night you couldn’t sleep.

Even if there was no trace of Bucky in your new apartment –in your new life, you still couldn’t shake off this feeling. It was as if the moment you had entered the country, Bucky had entered your life in an instant.

Odds were, you wouldn’t really see him again. After all it was a big city, and Bucky wasn’t exactly the social type.

So your first week back in New York wasn’t exactly terrible. You were still waiting for your orders while getting to know to the city slowly, because after long missions it always took time for you to remember you had a real life there, real memories—

Well, as real as it could be, for a spy.

“Just see it as a vacation,” Chloe had said, “They threw you into another mission as soon as you got out of the country, it’s just a delayed vacation.”

As far as vacations went though, this one just sucked.

Maybe it was because you couldn’t keep away from places you and Bucky had been too, like this coffee place where you had first officially met.

You sipped your coffee, scrolling down on the news website as your eyes skimmed yet another article about Accords and whether you could trust superheroes or not, but you were soon distracted when someone pulled the seat across from you, making you look up from your phone.

And as soon as you did, your heart dropped.

You had to give it to the General, he was manipulative, he was a liar and he had betrayed your trust terribly but the one thing he had done right was training you well. Aside from that one second, you managed to adapt a look of nonchalance on your face, slowly putting your phone down.

“Hello Cap.”

Sam raised his brows and eyed you up and down.

“You’re back?”

You could swear he could hear your heartbeat and you shrugged your shoulders, looking around.

“Yeah,” you said, “Big apple and everything.”

“So much for the small town girl.”

“I have never been a small town girl,” you drawled, “Never been to Oregon either.”

“Yeah, I can tell.”

You turned your coffee cup on the table just so you could do something with your hands.

“Why?” he asked after a beat and you shifted your weight despite your whole training of feeling calm and collected, nervousness hitting you out of nowhere.

“You’re a veteran, Wilson,” you managed to say, “You don’t need me to tell you how the chain of command works. Army doesn’t care how we feel about orders.”

“I’m very familiar with how chain of command works,” he pointed out, “But you’re not a soldier, Y/N. You’re a spy.”

“That makes it even worse,” you stated, “I know it sounds like an excuse, but… you don’t know how my agency works. I don’t get to say no to orders, and I sure as hell don’t get to blow my own cover.”

“But you wanted to, didn’t you?”

Jesus Christ, Wilson was really good at this observation thing.

“Doesn’t matter what I want,” you said, “I’m no use to anyone if I develop a conscience.”

“But you did,” he insisted, “Why else would you come to help us? Why else would you warn him beforehand?”

“He told you about that?”

He shot you a look, “What do you think, Y/N?”

You scoffed a laughter. “I was feeling generous,” you said, “No other reason.”

He kept his gaze on you for a couple of seconds, as if trying to see whether you would cave before he took a deep breath.

“You know he was going to propose, right?”

That-

That was just too much. You could feel your jaw hanging as you stared at him in complete silence, his words echoing in your ears.

“No,” you said after a moment, then shook your head fervently, your nose in the air, “No you’re wrong.”

“I’m not,” Sam said, “Apparently he was looking for this… house painted in white with—a red door or something.”

Don’t cry.

Do not fucking cry.

Spies don’t cry over heartbreak.

You clenched your jaw and blinked back the tears, straightening your back.

“It’s a good thing he didn’t get to, then.”

“Y/N, he loved you.”

“No Sam, he loved someone who doesn’t exist,” you replied, “Sweet small town girl with sundresses and smiles and some house in the suburbs with kids and all that shit. Girls like me don’t get that ending, I have way too much blood on my hands.”

He pressed his lips together and you cleared your throat.

“How much does he hate me?”

“Why do you think he hates you?”

“Assassins aren’t good at forgiving,” you said, “I would know, we don’t have that talent.”

“That’s not a talent, that’s a choice.”

“It really isn’t,” you muttered, “So?”

“Why don’t you ask him?”

You let out a bitter laugh, “Yeah no. Actions have consequences and I’d rather not cross paths with the deadliest assassin in the world after double crossing him.”

“But you want him to forgive you.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Intuition,” he said and pushed his chair back to stand up.

“He didn’t kill your father, Y/N.”

You heaved a sigh.

“I know,” you said, “Trust me, I would’ve walked away so much easier if he had.”

“Enjoy your coffee,” he said and walked out of the coffee house. You threw your head back, closing your eyes.

“Yep. I shouldn’t have come back.”

***

“I never thought I’d say this, but I kind of hate that we’re not living so close anymore,” you pressed the phone between your shoulder and your ear and opened the door to your apartment as Keith chuckled.

“I knew you’d miss me.”

“Shut up.”

“You’re a softie deep inside. Very very deep inside.”

“If you repeat that in front of anyone I swear to God…” you muttered and he groaned.

“Have I told you they’re putting me in the same team as Julian?”

“You guys have a new mission?”

“Not a long one probably.”

“Why the fuck am I—“

“Because you’re on a vacation,” he cut you off, “And also they’re probably going to make you a handler, that’s worth waiting for.”

“That or….”

“We’re not talking about that on the phone,” Keith said quickly, “Amateur.”

“Careful there, I’ll outrank you soon enough,” you said, walking to the bathroom to wash your hands. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Alright, see you later!” he said and hung up. You put your phone into your pocket, then washed your hands and made your way to the kitchen.

It was only when you put the wine bottle back into the fridge that you noticed something was off. Your body moved on its own accord, before you knew it you had already grabbed the knife in your boots and threw it to the figure in the dark corner of the room but he easily caught it, metal hitting what sounded like another kind of metal before he stepped out of the corner. Your breath caught in your throat, and for the first time in your life you froze, all the training leaving your mind.

You were supposed to be looking for a weapon, any kind of weapon but somehow, your body refused to move.

Bucky turned your knife in his hands, his gaze pinning you to your spot before he tilted his head.

“Hi honey,” he said, his voice way too cold. “I’m home.”

Chapter 24

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagines

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jaskierswolf · 3 years

Text

The Love We Have

Part 1/5 - AO3 - Next

Summary: Kaer Morhen has an old tradition in order to keep the witchers safe after the siege. Only witchers and their partners are allowed in the keep but Geralt is tired of parting with Jaskier over the winter so decides to invite him to Kaer Morhen... only he forgets to mention one tiny little detail.

Ship: Geraskier

Rating: T

Warnings: None?? Maybe... I'll add them later if I remember any.

(Written as a prompt that got way out of hand for @dani-dandelino and beta'd by @professorjaskier)

____

The path up the mountain was steep, treacherous and fucking cold. Jaskier felt himself slipping on the loose rocks underfoot. He yelped, ready to meet his maker but Geralt’s strong arms wrapped around his waist before he could hit the floor. It was all very reminiscent of a lover’s embrace.

One could only dream.

Geralt had been particularly stoic on the trek up The Killer, barely responding to even direct questions and grunting orders when they set up camp for the night, but there was none of their usual banter. Unfortunately, Jaskier’s fingers had been too frozen to pluck at his lute, leaving a deafening silence between them. To top it off Geralt was now glaring at him from across the campfire.

Jaskier sighed, stuffing his hands under his armpits, pulling his hood closer around his ears. “Geralt?”

Geralt’s eyes widened as he seemed to finally register their surroundings, and he let out a low hum.

“Have- have I done something wrong?”

The crease between Geralt’s brows deepened, his jaws clenching. “No.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes, scoffing haughtily. “Oh sure. Sure. So that’s why you’re acting all…” Jaskier trailed off, gesturing at Geralt’s direction with a flick of his wrist.

“Hmm.”

“Oh no. No, no, no. We are not doing this!” Jaskier tried to put his hands on his hips but the motion let a biting cold breeze into the thick woollen travelling coat that Geralt had insisted he buy for the journey to Kaer Morhen. “You’ve been grumpier than usual and honestly, I wasn’t sure that was possible. What’s going on, Geralt?”

Geralt let out a long heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. He wore a weary expression that Jaskier thought was utterly adorable; not that he would ever tell Geralt that. He’d learnt the hard way how much a witcher’s punch to the gut could hurt. Instead, he rested his chin on his knees and pouted at his friend. “Come on, Geralt, you invited me here. No pretending that we aren’t friends anymore.”

Geralt smiled faintly at that and then sighed once more. “I haven’t been honest with you.”

“About us being friends?” Jaskier laughed “I stopped caring about that years ago. Your actions speak louder than words, my dear.”

“Jaskier!”

Jaskier’s mouth snapped shut. He was barely able to conceal his gleeful smirk. This felt like coming home after the stone-cold silences of the last few days. It almost warmed the chill in his bones; almost. It would take a veritable miracle at this stage to fend off the frost bite.

“Done?” Geralt growled and Jaskier nodded. Pressing his lips together. “We have an old tradition at Kaer Morhen, ever since…” Geralt trailed off with a growl. “It’s to protect us, our home.”

Jaskier raised his eyebrow, tongue flicking out to lick his lip, a habit he’d picked up to prevent himself from interrupting Geralt. His witcher often took longer to find the right words, and Jaskier had learnt it was better to be patient.

“Only significant others are allowed.”

Jaskier blinked and Geralt’s words hung heavy in the air.

“I’m. I’m sorry, what?” he gaped.

Significant other?

“You heard me, bard.”

Jaskier let out a nervous laugh, wringing his hands in his lap. “But. but we’re. we’re not?”

Oh, if only they were.

“I know that.”

“Then why?!” Jaskier wasn’t proud of the way his voice squeaked, jumping two octaves.

“I. I trust you.”

Jaskier scoffed. After nearly a decade of friendship he sincerely hoped that the witcher trusted him. He had been absolutely delighted when Geralt had extended the invitation to his elusive home in the mountains. He hated leaving Geralt over winter, the cold making his dorms at Oxenfurt seem even lonelier… but to pretend they were dating?

It was a little too close to the truth for comfort.

He was surprised Geralt had asked him at all. The witcher rarely admitted they were friends. Jaskier couldn’t imagine he’d be particularly thrilled about pretending to be lovers, and he had a brilliant imagination!

Unless, of course, Jaskier had gotten the wrong end of the stick. He could be jumping to conclusions. Geralt probably hadn’t meant for them to pretend to be lovers at all. It was just a pre-warning that Jaskier might not be entirely welcome until he earned the other witcher’s trust. They were breaking the rules. That was it.

“So…” he trailed off, not knowing how to voice his question. Geralt, helpfully grunted in response. Jaskier rolled his eyes and tried again. “Are you nervous about breaking the rules?”

Geralt frowned, that adorable little crease on his forehead deepening and Jaskier yearned to smooth it out with a press of his thumb, but alas the witcher remained grumpy and unobtainable. “They won’t know,” he huffed.

If Jaskier had been eating or drinking at that moment, then he certainly would have choked on it or spat it out all over the floor in his shock. As it was, he almost fell off the log he was perching on. “I’m sorry?”

“They’ll make assumptions. We won’t correct them.”

Jaskier was sure that his jaw would never leave the floor. “We. we won’t?”

“No.”

“Alrighty…”

An awkward silence fell over the camp. The crackling of the fire suddenly sounded louder than any tavern in Oxenfurt. Jaskier could hear every breath like a hurricane blowing through the camp, the howling of distant wolves clawing down his spine. What felt like hours was probably only seconds when the silence became too much to bear.

“Oh ho ho, no. No, no, no. No. I’m sorry. What the fuck, Geralt?”

Geralt sighed and pressed his fingers to his forehead. “I should have asked sooner.”

“Do you even know what you’re asking of me?” Jaskier peered suspiciously at the witcher, wringing his hands in his lap and flexing his fingers. He desperately wanted his lute, his notebook… something, anything.

“Just don’t correct them?”

Jaskier snorted. “Just don’t correct them?” he asked incredulously “Oh sure, it’s that simple. Geralt, my dear, you’re asking me to pretend I’m in love with you.”

Jaskier barely managed to conceal his flinch.

Pretend.

Hah!

If only it were that simple. He was a pretty decent actor, most graduates of Oxenfurt were, but to act like he was only pretending to be in love with Geralt? That would be perhaps his toughest role to date.

And it would fucking hurt. Especially since Geralt hadn’t seemed to have realised he would have to do the same.

“Fuck.”

Jaskier tilted his head at the witcher, brushing his fringe from his eyes, his hand shivering from the cold. The penny had apparently dropped; finally.

He smirked, “Well, I was thinking we’d only have to kiss but if you insist?”

Geralt growled and pushed him onto the floor.

____

That night had been a particularly awkward one. The biting cold meant that Jaskier had to curl up into Geralt’s side to prevent himself from freezing to death. Geralt would normally wrap his arms around Jaskier in his sleep, making it more comfortable for both of them. But when he woke Geralt was lying rigid next to him; only staying as close as absolutely necessary and nothing more.

They ate their breakfast in silence, with even Jaskier’s normal chatter and noise absent. Jaskier was starting to get really sick of silences but he knew that Geralt needed a chance to process. The witcher would only blow up in his face if he said something now. It was a struggle for both of them. Jaskier was always desperate to fill the silence. He never enjoyed being left alone with his own thoughts and chattering about everything and nothing helped to calm the anxiety inducing void, and yet he knew that Geralt sometimes needed time. He would normally be scribbling away in his notebook, or carving patterns into the dirt with his boots, anything to keep busy, keep moving. Instead, he tapped out silent lute fingerings on his leg beneath the cloak and chewed on his lip, only stopping when he tasted the sharp tang of blood.

It was only after they had packed up camp and been walking for a few minutes that Geralt finally spoke, seemingly calmed by Roach’s reins in his hand.

“We should plan.”

Jaskier, still shivering under his cloak, snorted; a cloud swirling in front of his face like he was some kind of draconid. “Plan?”

“Hmm.”

“Pray tell me, dear witcher, what are we planning?”

Geralt grunted, gesturing between them, a trace of a blush on his cheeks which utterly delighted Jaskier. The blush meant that Geralt could only mean one thing, and Jaskier was having a ball!

His grumpy, allergic to feelings, witcher wanted to plan how they were going to convince a keep full of witchers that they were not only dating but seriously involved. Geralt wanted to talk about it. That was a first. Perhaps the witcher was treating this like just another contract to prepare for. That thought made Jaskier’s heart clench in his chest.

Just another contract.

Fuck.

He plastered a bright smile on his face before Geralt could notice his inner turmoil and clapped his friend on the back. “What’s there to plan?” he asked cheerfully, voice full of fake camaraderie. “We’re pretending to be in love, should be easy! I’m a bard, a troubadour, a graduate of the famed Oxenfurt academy!”

“Jaskier, shut up.”

Jaskier gaped and shoved Geralt in the chest. “You wanted to talk, Geralt!”

“We need boundaries.”

Jaskier’s heart sank and his smile faltered. “Right, yes, of course. I was. I was joking, last night, when I said…”

“I know.”

“We probably will have to kiss though.” he mumbled, his cheeks were a blazing fire and he probably resembled a tomato. Hopefully Geralt would just think he was cold, which he really really was. Honestly, he was starting to think that he might never be warm again. What was heat anyway? He swallowed, digging his nails into his palm. “Maybe just on the cheek. Think your family will buy that?” Geralt shook his head. “Well… bollocks.”

Geralt chuckled and Jaskier looked up at him with a sheepish smile. Geralt actually had the decency to look apologetic for the mess he’d gotten them into. “It’ll be just enough to convince them, nothing more.”

Nothing more. Of course it was nothing more. These were the boundaries that Geralt was talking about. He didn’t want Jaskier to think it was anything more than an act. Well, message received loud and clear! He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. He should be ecstatic, finally a chance to kiss Geralt… but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t what he wanted.

It wasn’t real.

Geralt grunted, his own hands were buried in Roach’s mane as they walked side by side up the perilous mountain. He paused suddenly and began fussing with Roach’s saddlebags. Jaskier wrapped his arms around himself, shuffling from one foot to another to keep moving. He had to keep moving or he might freeze to death. He could already feel his toes going numb and the perpetual stinging in his fingers. Oh he was definitely getting frostbite. He watched Geralt for a few moments. The witcher’s shoulders were tense and his jaw was clenched. Jaskier sighed and placed a hand on Geralt’s arm, enjoying the soft warmth that radiated from the witcher, letting it seep into his frozen bones.

“Do. Do you want to practice?”

“What?”

“Kissing,” Jaskier said with a flick of his wrist. “You want boundaries, so let’s practice. That way we’ll know what we’re comfortable with”

“You want to kiss me?” Geralt asked, brow furrowed and arms crossed in front of his chest.

Jaskier scoffed at Geralt’s emotionally constipated antics. He was nearly at his limit with stupid witchers and he hadn’t even reached Kaer Morhen yet. Maybe this whole thing was a bad idea.

Jaskier poked Geralt in the chest. “You suggested it!” he pointed out “and I’m never going to refuse the opportunity to kiss such a gorgeous person. You, dear witcher, are no exception!” He hoped that Geralt would be fooled by his nonchalant flirting. He did this all the time in taverns and courts all around the Continent and Geralt had witnessed it on many occasions. This was just what Jaskier did, nothing out of the ordinary… nothing to worry about.

He swallowed, a bubble of fear rising up in his chest and he couldn’t calm his racing heart. Oh gods, this was really far too close to the truth.

Geralt just gave a hum but let go of Roach’s reins. He gripped Jaskier’s shoulder and cocked his head, giving Jaskier the fondest of smiles. “Last chance to back out, bard.”

Jaskier grinned, raising his chin. He had a stubborn streak that would serve him well here. He never could say no to a challenge. “Just kiss me, you coward.”

A lie. Geralt was no coward. If anyone were it would be Jaskier. He couldn’t even tell Geralt the true depth of his feelings. They were concealed in songs for the whole Continent to hear but he couldn’t tell the one person that really ought to know. It was pathetic, pining over his best friend for years and years instead of moving on or just… admitting the truth?

Luckily Jaskier’s joke seemed to break the tension between them. Geralt hummed and cupped his cheek with more tenderness than he’d expected. Chapped lips pressed against his, warm and gentle as Geralt’s thumb stroked his cheek, calloused fingers brushing against the stubble that was beginning to prickle up through his skin. Jaskier wasn’t sure where to put his hands. He yearned to cup the nape of Geralt’s neck, to pull his lover closer and never let go. In a more passionate affair, his hands would land on his partner’s arse, squeezing cheekily as the kiss deepened.

Jaskier wanted to cry. It was all so sweet, so perfect, and none of it was real. This was his fate. Like a character in one of his ballads, a flower doomed to wither away without the heart of his beloved.

But this was Geralt.

This was his friend.

He settled for holding onto Geralt’s waist, his fingers digging into the wool of Geralt’s cloak. The kiss was over all too soon, leaving his head spinning. He felt breathless, like all his soul had been poured into the kiss. He pulled back from Geralt’s embrace in a hopeless attempt to calm his beating heart, but it was too late. The damage was done. With a single kiss Geralt had ruined Jaskier for all other love. Before it had been pitiful yearning but now…

Gods…

He was utterly done for.

His fingers itched for his quill. Oh, the poems and ballads he could pull from just a single kiss. A buttercup crushed under the paws of a great wolf as he roamed through the forests. Okay, that one might be a tad obvious. He preferred to at least try and hide in plain sight.

A dandelion perhaps?

Geralt would never need to know that Jaskier had almost chosen a different flower as his namesake.

“Jaskier?”

Jaskier blinked and looked up at Geralt. Normally Jaskier was able to pick up the most minute changes in Geralt’s expression and his eyes were usually an open book. The witcher’s face gave away nothing and it was bloody infuriating.

“That…. that went well?” he stammered, pulling at a loose thread in his cloak.

“Hmm. We’ll be fine,” Geralt turned from him, looking more and more like the Butcher of Blaviken of old, and less like Jaskier’s darling White Wolf. “It’s not long now. We should get going.”

And get going they did.

#the witcher #geraskier #fake dating #geralt x jaskier #geralt/jaskier #kaer morhen #wolfie's witcher writing

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plus-size-reader · 3 years

Text

Blood pt.3

Stiles Stilinski x Plus size!reader

Word Count:2603 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Stiles' secret is out, which complicates things. He’s going to have to do some fast talking if he wants to keep the reader’s secret from getting out too.

Part 1

Part 2

—————————————————————————————————

“There’s a girl in your bed”

“That’s, she’s, don’t worry about her” Stiles rambled, sort of hoping that for once, Scott would just do as he asked and leave it alone. However, he knew that wasn’t going to happen which meant that he was going to have to tell some really good lies, really quickly.

Which wasn’t his strong suit.

Stiles had never been a good liar, which you could tell just by the way he’d handled this whole thing in the first place. So, before he could panic and blow the whole thing, you figured you better go out there and sell his lie for him.

You knew for a fact you could do that better than he could.

All you had been doing for the last seventy years was lying to everyone you ever met, and you’d been pretending to be something else for even longer than that. If lying about sleeping with a hundred fifty pound boy was where you drew the line, you would have died a long time ago.

As quickly as you could, you slipped out of the jeans you’d been wearing and did your best to act like you’d been sleeping just before he entered the room, before making your way over the door again and opening it casually.

“You must be Scott, I’m Y/N” you hummed, leaning against the doorframe with your hip, a small friendly smile on your face.

By all accounts, it looked like you had just spent the night in Stiles’ bed with him, and even he was convinced, knowing that wasn’t the case. You really weren't kidding when you said you would find a way to work this out.

“Uh yeah, hi” Scott tried, looking at his best friend, totally lost as to what was going on. Not only did he have no idea how you were or what was happening, but clearly, Stiles was hiding something huge which just wasn’t in his nature.

There was silence between the three of you for a moment as Scott searched the other male’s face, looking for any kind of answer that just wasn’t there.

All he could do was shrug.

In all honesty, Stiles was still so rattled from nearly getting caught and the way that you currently looked that he couldn’t have hoped to speak if he wanted to. This was hardly the way he thought your first meeting would go, but there was no going back now.

All he could do was commit to the lie, as you clearly had already decided to do.

“I guess we overslept. Stiles always forgets to set the alarm” you shrugged, a small giggle leaving your lips that you hoped the two men would believe. You weren't really the giddy type, but it seemed like that was the kind of girl Stiles would go for.

...and based on the way Scott’s jaw was hanging slack, you were doing a pretty good job.

“My bad. You know how it is” Stiles tried, panicking a bit at the way he sounded.

He had never been the kind of guy who could just have a girl in his bed and not tell everyone he’d ever met, but based on the circumstances, he was now. It was hardly believable, but the proof was right there in front of his face.

Scott couldn’t have argued even if he wanted to.

“You needed this?” you asked, going back into the room just enough for you to grab his lacrosse stick from where it was on the floor, and tossing it at him. He caught it with a near perfect accuracy, not missing a beat, but you waved it off.

It would just be best to get him out of here as quickly as you could.

A small hum of thanks left his lips before he headed back down the stairs, stopping only once when he passed Stiles’ side, whispering something to him which you heard but pretending you didn't. If you were normally, you never would have known.

Pretending to be normal was the best you could do.

“We should probably get dressed. See you later man” Stiles decided, skipping up the stairs and making his way into the room, stopping just shy of the doorway to make sure Scott left.

He didn’t speak again until he was sure he heard the door close, a relieved sigh leaving his lips.

“You definitely just saved our asses” he breathed out, resting against the closed door as gingerly as he could. That was close, much closer than he ever wanted to come to the secret being out, and while you weren’t out of the woods yet, it was better than it would have been.

At least you’d bought him some time to finesse the lie a little more.

“You lied to me” you huffed, struggling to get your jeans back on as the anger clouded your vision and made you much more impatient than you would have been. You weren't new to this, and you knew a werewolf when you saw one.

You weren’t sure when it was just that smell in Stiles’ jeep but there was no denying it now that you had been that close to him.

“What are you talking about? I didn’t lie” he tried, but you stopped him with a single look, your eyes burning with the rage that was welling up in your belly. You trusted him to tell you the truth and keep you safe, and he’d lied.

He’d been lying, this entire time.

“You don’t think I know a werewolf when I see one?” you bit, finding it hard to believe that you could be so blind in the first place. This was just as much your fault as it was his because you had been stupid enough to trust him.

This was why he was so calm about what he’d seen in the locker room, and why he was so determined to keep a close eye on you.

“Look, he doesn’t know what you are. Everything is going to be fine” he tried, earning another scoff from you as you thought about it.

Stiles really was blind.

“You know why he doesn’t know? There aren’t very many of us left because of hunters, and things like him” you sighed, thinking about the last time you had come in contact with a pack of werewolves. It had been a number of years ago, but you had every right to be cautious.

The last time you had been anywhere near a werewolf, every single member of your coven had been slaughtered.

Just because Stiles trusted them didn’t mean you were really itching to meet any more wolves than you had to. It wasn't a risk that you were willing to take and if he knew as much about them as he thought he did, he wouldn’t ask you to.

Just because they were his friends didn’t mean they would extend that courtesy to you.

It was no secret that werewolves had never been a friend to your kind, and that was not going to change in this new place.

You knew it just wouldn’t, because no matter what Stiles said, you had been around long enough to know the truth.

“I was going to tell you, I just wasn’t sure how” Stiles sighed again, desperate to get you to believe him. This whole thing was going to work, he was sure of it, but you really did have to trust him. If you didn’t, there was no telling what would happen to you.

Stiles had every confidence that Scott’s pack wasn’t going to be of any danger to you but they weren’t the only werewolves around, something he knew all too well.

Your best bet was still to stay with him.

You both knew that.

“Please just trust me. I told you I would keep you safe, and I meant it” he assured, sitting down on his bed where you had previously been and patting the space beside him for you.

Your every instinct told you to just leave and never look back but still, you found yourself sitting down at his side. As much as you hated to admit it, he had snuck his neck out for you yesterday when he didn’t have to, and the least you could do was hear him out.

Maybe he really did just make a mistake.

A small smile crept onto his face as you sighed, sitting down beside him as gingerly as you could, and focusing that burning gaze on him. Evidently, he had been expecting you to leave just as much as you wanted to.

“I’ll find a way to tell him. Just don’t leave” he begged, letting the words settle between the two of you for a second before he lent down, maneuvering your foot through the leg hole of your jeans which you had nearly shredded in your attempt to get them on angry.

Which reminded him of the other thing he had to do today, besides explaining the mystery babe in his bed to his best friend.

“If you stay, I’ll take you to get some new clothes?” he offered a tiny smirk on his face as he tried to use the most immature means to convince you. All things considered, you still felt like you should have left, but you just couldn't do it.

Whether you wanted to admit it or not, you had grown pretty fond of the weird little guy.

“Fine, but I’m not running from werewolves again. If they want a fight, I’ll bring one” you grumbled, standing to button your pants before turning back to him.

“Get dressed”

It was clearly an order, and as terrifying as your vague threat of violence had been, Stiles knew better than to ignore it. Whatever it was that happened, between you and the pack, he was sure it would work out.

Stiles could see that it was going to be dangerous but he had no idea what would really happen if they found out that you were here. The pack wasn’t all that violent to begin with, but they did have a bit of a mean streak when it came to a threat.

If Derek, for one, thought you were dangerous, there was no real way to know how Scott would react.

By the time you and Stiles made it to school, a few of the classes had already come and gone but neither of you had much care for that. After all, you were dealing with something much more important than some calculus class this morning.

...And your classes weren’t the only things that happened this morning.

In all the time that you and Stiles had been looking for some stuff for you to wear that wasn’t obviously stained with blood or too old to pass off as the wardrobe of a teenager, Scott had been trying to figure out what he’d walked in on this morning.

To the best of his knowledge, Stiles hadn’t met anyone.

After all, whenever Stiles had liked a girl in the past, Scott was always the first one to know about it but he hadn’t breathed a single word about you.

Something was definitely going on, and when the rest of the pack confirmed they had no idea Stiles was dating, that only made him more suspicious. At the very least, he would have thought that Lydia would have heard something.

She’d had her ear to the social scene in Beacon Hills since a social scene had developed and if you were legit, she should have known about it.

Still, not one of them motioned to say or do anything about it at first. All they could do was wait for the male in question to fill them in on what could have possibly changed since they saw him last.

“I hate this” you muttered, walking close to Stiles as you made your way down the hall, catching almost every eye in the place as you passed. Very few of the students in attendance knew who you were and those that had seen you before had no clue what your deal was.

You were one big question mark to them, the new girl, and that was exciting.

“They’re just curious. They’ll get bored soon enough” he whispered back, gingerly reaching between the two of you to take your hand in his own. Your skin was ice cold to the touch, forcing a breath from his lungs, but he ignored it.

All he had to do was keep moving forward and everything else would find a way to work out.

“Nice touch, I am your girlfriend, after all” you teased, shooting him a casual wink in regards to your little lie, which you would now have to maintain for as long as you were around other people. It had been his idea after all.

Now would be a pretty bad time to start second guessing it.

“Yeah, exactly. That’s why I did it” he allowed, a little too eager to let that explain away the act, which really had just come from him trying to be comforting to you. In all honesty, he’d forgotten that the two of you were trying to act like a couple.

This was just what came naturally to him with you.

In all seriousness though, that was probably for the best. You were learning just how bad of a liar Stiles was, and if you had to rely on his ability to stretch the truth alone, you were screwed.

His little crush would only help the two of you sell this, and if trying to keep it hidden from you was what he needed to do, you would let him believe you didn’t hear the way his heart jumped when he grazed your skin with his own or you said his name.

You didn’t have a problem doing that for him after everything he was doing for you.

It would take a while to get used to not having to be alone, but having someone to rely on was nice, even when it was just some teenage boy from a small town.

He cared about you, and in some strange way, you actually cared a lot for him too.

You really did.

He had done too much for you already for you to not care about him a little bit. He was real, and went way out of his way to help you just because that was the kind of person he was. You weren’t blind to that, and you weren’t going to pretend to be.

“Alright, that’s the lunch bell. Are you ready for this?” he questioned, that all too familiar chiming that he was usually glad to hear filing him with dread today.

What normally meant he got to go eat, now meant he had to sit through the first degree Scott surely had planned for him. It was hardly what his idea of fun was, but as soon as Stiles got this over with, the sooner you would relax.

If you saw Scott and the rest of the pack as friends, or at least, not as threats, it would be easier to convince you that you weren’t in constant danger.

“Of the two of us, who froze this morning when Scott stuck his nose where it didn't belong?” you hummed, reminding him that of the two of you, you weren't the one he needed to be worried about being ready.

You could have lied your way out of a paper bag if you needed to.

“Fair point”

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xenia-cenia · 3 years

Text

Razor x Fem!Reader - Trust

A/N - I... have been avoiding writing this one, but he and Albedo are the last two before I can finish off the Mondstadt part of this series. Here’s hoping it doesn’t take me as long as the other ones lol

Post writing authors note: only took 2 hours so a lot better than my other ones

Trigger/Content Warnings: Injury, blood mention, slight manga spoilers, kidnapping, human experimentation mention, abusive sibling, food mention

Word Count: 1,552

Request: No

Summary: Ooooh dottore bad... razor good.... its 1am i have school tomorrow pretend this makes sense

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

You came to him on accident.

You didn’t mean to stumble into the Wolvendom with blood coating your arm and chased by people who thought of you as nothing more than a Harbingers sister. You hadn’t planned on slipping in the mud and watching with fear in your eyes as your pursuers celebrated their victory. How could you of known that the scream that’d fall from your lips would alert a nearby boy?

Electricity remained in the air as he set his weapon down. He turned to you with a blank expression, “...hurt?”

“Who are you? Do you know what you’ve just done?”

“Hurt.” He pointed at your arm. “I fix.” Razor walked over to you and kneeled, carefully grabbing your arm.

“The Fatui! You’ve just... oh Archons, please help me. I’m so sorry, I got you into this mess and now you’ll be in danger, why did I scream?”

“Fa... tui?” He slightly cocked his head to the side.

“T-They’re people who want me back. I... I’m the sister of-”

“Family?”

You shook your head violently, “No! Not family!” You sighed, “I’m the sister of one of the harbingers. P-Please, tell me you haven’t heard of Dottore...”

“Dottore. Dottore bad?”

“Very!”

“You scared Dottore?”

“Yes.”

“Razor protect you from Dottore. Join lupical.”

“Lu...” you echoed, “Are you Razor?”

“Razor is me.”

You looked at the mysterious boy and considered your options; either be found by the fatui and forced to face your brother or... follow the boy who saved your life without knowing you.

“Okay, fine.” You sighed, “I’ll come with you.”

He nodded, “Follow.”

You walked in silence and you noticed kindness in his subtle actions. He would hold branches above your head until you were safely past them or pointed out puddles so you wouldn’t step in them.

Finally, you arrived at an opening. Wolves stalked the exterior, looked at Razor and you, and continued their business.

“Ra... Razor?” You whispered, gripping onto his arm and stepping behind him. “Why did you take me to wolves?”

“Lupical. Family.”

“These are your family?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” You nodded, drew out your words as you started to regret your decision to trust him. “Wolf... family. Alrighty. Annnd... I’m here now. This is what I’m doing with my life.”

“Lupical protect Razor. Razor protect Lupical. Razor trust you. You smell nice.”

“I’ve been on the run for multiple weeks. There’s no way I smell nice.”

Razor scrunched his eyebrows as he searched for the right word, “You smell... kind. Razor trust you.” He turned to you and tried to manage a smile though it looked more like a ferocious snarl, “You trust Razor?”

And maybe you were just tired but for some reason, you did.

It didn’t take long for you to merge with the rest of the wolf pack, though you couldn’t understand their words you learned their body language.

The pups would run over to you and wouldn’t leave you alone until you pet them behind the ears. You would pick grass and would weave it into a shoddy crown, and each time you gave it to Razor he’d wear it the rest of the day.

Happy. You were happy.

Hunting, flower picking, star gazing. It was simple, but it was the best life you could’ve asked for. A life outside of political intrigue, violence, anger, and human test subjects.

A life where you could smile. A life where your shoulders relaxed. A life where you were trusted and you could trust.

Lupical. Family. You would give anything to keep these peaceful days ongoing.

But, as with every spot of happiness you found, it needed to be crushed.

Crushed by your older brother and the troops he controlled as he tracked down your location. As he demanded they wait until nightfall to grab you by your arm and drag you back into his clutches.

“Scream and they die.” He had said with a smile. You knew better than to doubt him.

“Can I...” you tried to blink the tears out of your eyes, “Can I give them a final goodbye gift?”

Dottore rolled his eyes and waved his hand dismissively. You picked grass, quickly weaved it into a shotty flower crown, and lied it on Razor's chest. And just like that, you were gone.

You were halfway to Liyue by the time Razor realized that you were missing. He gripped the flower crown as if his life depended on it, and tried his best to stay calm. To breathe.

His Lupical were quicker to pick up on your disappearance, they whined and hounded him until he finally picked up on it.

What was he going to do? You trusted him and you’re gone. Razor hadn’t felt this awful since part of his Lupical died in front of him. He didn’t spend much time grieving, however, he dropped right onto your scent.

You walked next to your brother, your eyes locked onto the ground, you were surrounded by trees and there was a cliff behind you.

“Why, (Y/N), you gave us quite a scare!” He chuckled after hours of pure silence, “3 months and no message. I almost began to think the worst.”

“I bet you wished for it.” You grumbled under your breath.

“What?” He looked at you, “How could you say that? I love you.”

“You never loved me.” You snapped, your fingernails digging into your palms, “You used me. You only want me back so I can’t tell everybody the awful things you do. Dead or alive, it doesn’t matter to you. I’m just here for your appearances.”

“I wanted you back because you’re my fami-”

“Don’t you dare say we’re family. They were my family. They loved me.”

“The-the wolves?” He laughed, “Don’t be absurd! Wolves can’t love you.”

“And why not?” You finally made eye contact with him, “They surely love me more than you.”

He looked at you with a slightly agape mouth, “Surely you hear how ridiculous you sound. You... you need some food. When's the last time you had a whole meal? Is that it? Are you starving? Are you sleep-deprived? What’s making you act like this?”

“I finally found someone who truly cares about me, and you take me away from them! You never want me to be happy. I hate you.” You took a deep breath, “No... hate isn’t strong enough. I despise you.”

Dottore looked at you with almost seemed like genuine pain. But you knew better. This was the man who’d set scientists to dissect your body if he got bored. This was the man who turned countless children into experiments.

You hated him. You hated the way he made you doubt yourself. You hated his confident smirk.

He sighed heavily, “They always did say these teen years were hard... (Y/N), I don’t understand why you’re angry.”

“And that’s the issue! You never understand me. You don’t even try to.”

“Can’t you just listen to me?”

“I have! I’ve listened for years and nothing's ever changed! You take me away from where I’m happy and try to convince me I’m in the wrong for getting upset. You are a terrible brother and even worse person.”

“Ter... oh. Oh, (Y/N), I tried to be reasonable with you.” He shook his head dismissively, “It really is your fault. You forced my hand. You’re going back to Snezhnaya and you’re staying there until you learn your lesson.”

“No, I’m not.” You took a step away from him. “I’ll run. I’ll run each time and I’ll tell everybody what you do.”

He stepped towards you and grabbed your wrist, “If you disappear again, I’ll just be forced to kill all of your... ahem... friends.”

You bit your lip and tried to keep the tears pooling in your eyes to spill over, “Fine.” You pulled out of his grasp.

“Are you finally going to listen to me?”

You turned around and looked over the edge of the cliff. A flash of white caught your attention. You smiled to yourself, turned around, and let the tears fall.

With outstretched arms, a huge smile, and a torrent of tears, you spoke, “I’ll always run from you.” You stood on the edge and let your body fall.

Dottore ran to the edge and grabbed at your clothes, missing by mere inches. He looked over the cliff in fear as he watched you fall through the branches of trees.

He sighed to himself and tried to contain his frustration. “Damn brat.” He turned to his troops who took the time of your argument to rest, “We continue on. (Y/N) is dead.”

In the tree, Razor looked at you in relief as you sat in his arms. “Safe?”

“Safe.” You replied with a laugh as you hugged him as best as you could considering he was holding you. “He won’t... he won’t bother us anymore.”

“Dottore? Dottore hurt you? Razor not protect.”

You pulled back from the hug, “You saved me.”

He blinked, “Razor... save? You are safe... Razor save...”

You pulled him down by his collar and kissed his cheek, “I love you.”

His cheeks turned bright red. “Love... Razor love... Razor love you.”

You giggled as you pulled him into another kiss, happy to be free from your brother and in Razor's arms.

“I love you,” you whispered again, “I love you so much.”

#razor x reader #razor x you #please god let this blow up im so tired #genshin impact #genshin impact razor #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact razor x reader #genshin razor x reader #happy endings #saved by razor #x reader fanfiction #x reader #one shot

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sapphic-hope · 3 years

Text

revenge ⸝⸝ oneshot

pairings: hope mikaelson x vampire!reader

warnings: angst, betrayal (the reader pretends to be someone they're not to manipulate hope), death (mentioned).

summary: centuries ago, you made the mistake of helping katerina petrova. to punish you, klaus murdered your entire family. you want revenge, and what better way to get it then to manipulate his only child? if only you didn't end up getting to know the real her, or even worse falling in love. // set in season five of the originals, klaus is still alive and roman doesn't exist.

word count: 800+

Becoming a student at the Salvatore school is surprisingly easy. A few lies here and there, a well thought out sob story that the headmaster eats up, and you're in. Absolutely no compulsion needed.

Honestly you are horrified how little time the school spends checking out your backstory, despite the fact that it works in your favor.

For a school meant to keep their students safe they sure as hell don't seem to be doing their job that well. You're surprised the Klaus Mikaelson would have ever sent his only daughter there.

Getting close to Hope Mikaelson turns out to be nearly impossible, not that you expected it to be easy. While the rest of the students are quick to accept you as one of them, the vampires happy to have you, even the witches and the wolves warming up to your presence, Hope stays away.

You soon learn that's normal behavior for the tribrid, staying away from the other students. You hate her just a bit more for that, your mind happy to make it's own judgement. Because of course the high and mighty Mikaelson stays away from everyone, full of herself just like her father had once been.

Time passes quickly and you make little to no progress in befriending the girl. But surprisingly you aren't that mad about it, while the 'bunny' blood does take some time to get used to, you find yourself enjoying being part of the school. Even if you know it's only a means to an end and not something you should allow yourself to get attached to.

It's Josie Saltzman of all people, the headmaster's daughter, that ends up being the key to befriending Hope. She is one of the few people at the school that Hope doesn't go out of her way to avoid. Obviously being friends with Josie would take you one step closer to Hope.

In hindsight you should have realised that sooner, but better later then never. You don't let your thoughts linger on why using Josie's good natured friendship didn't come to your mind weeks before.

It's a little shocking how easy things go after you realize that. A few kind words to Josie and a few days later the four of you – Josie, Hope, Josie's sister Lizzie and you are hanging out together. The twins turn out to be far more fun to spend time with then you thought, in another life you may have even been actual friends.

Hope takes some time to warm up to you, but you have all of the time in the world. And it's not like there is someone waiting for you in the outside world. After all, Hope's father made sure of that centuries ago when he slaughtered your entire family.

Months pass, you have a routine now, one you can admit to yourself you will miss when everything is over and you leave. Hope is still distant but you're confident that you could be considered friends now. She still doesn't mention her family, not even a word on anything you could use against them, but you learn that you don't hate spending time near her as much as you did before.

The universe seems to have something against you, so of course everything goes horribly wrong the moment you dare to think you might be close to getting what you wanted.

An accident happens, a group of humans attacks the school and Hope ends up killing one of them. Triggering her wolf side.

You're surprised that you are the person she goes to. She's a sobbing mess, trying to explain what had happened, repeating over and over how she didn't mean to. It's only your vampire hearing that makes you understand what's she's saying.

And for the first time, your heart breaks for her. Ignoring the internal turmoil insise your mind is easy when you fully focus on her, gentle and oh so kind as you hug her and tell her it's all going to be alright. She only stops crying once she falls asleep.

You stay by her side and it would be so easy to hurt and maybe even kill her then and there, asleep on your bed, her guard down. You don't.

Next time you see each other, you both pretend it had never happened. Hope leaves the school for a month, you assume her mother came to get her so the two of them could spend Hope's first full moon together. But you don't dare ask her about it when she returns.

You don't mention it but there's a silent understanding between the two of you now and you're closer then ever. You love hate it. You promise to yourself that it if you ever get a chance to kill her again, you'll take it.

(It's a lie. And deep down you know it.)

#hope mikaelson x reader #hope mikaelson imagine #hope mikaelson #the originals #to #the originals imagine #to imagine #legacies #legacies imagine #the originals x reader #legacies x reader #josie saltman #lizzie saltzman #klaus mikaelson #hayley marshall

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marvel-and-mischief · 3 years

Text

Purple Carnations

Part of my Floriography Series

Pairing: Pero Tovar x F!Reader Words: 1700 Warnings: eating meat, preparing dead rabbits for eating, nudity but not sexual, a swear word Synopsis: You come across an angry stranger bathing in the river

Purple Carnations: capriciousness

💐

The setting sun could be seen through the thin gaps between the trees, casting shadows throughout the woods you were standing in. Birds were settling into their nests with their chicks and dogs were howling in the distance as you trod silently over roots and tried to stay clear of crisp leaves and twigs that would alert anyone, or anything, to your presence.

You fingered the bow in your hand, clenching and unclenching your hand around the wood and feeling the weight in preparation of its use. The few arrows in the quiver on your back slid against each other when you moved too quickly, it reminded you that you needed to make more after tonight.

The only other sound you could hear was that of the river running along the edge of the woods. The water was calm and you ventured closer in the hope that an animal was taking a drink. It would be an easy catch, you’d be able to get back home before the sky turned dark and the wolves began to roam the area. Luck was rarely on your side but what you saw was more than unlucky, it was downright cruel.

A man was bathing in the shallow end of the river, back facing you and his bottom half, fortunately, concealed underneath the water. You were unable to take your eyes off the silver scars that lined his skin and tense muscles that flexed under his movements. And his hands, they were scarily large as they carded through black, wet hair, and it brought you out of your embarrassing state when you thought of this man noticing you spying on him and using those hands in punishment.

You felt yourself flush and in your haste to quickly disappear unnoticed your foot caught on a wayward tree branch, causing you to squeak in surprise and reach out to steady yourself against a large rock.

“Hey you!” came an angry shout from the river and you knew you had been caught. You spun back around to see the man facing you, his teeth clenched and face twisted into a furious scowl. “You think you can spy on me you -“

“Spy on you?” you scoffed in retaliation, suddenly feeling brave in the face of a man that could definitely beat you in a physical fight. You pulled an arrow out of your quiver and notched it into your bow but kept the weapon lowered, a precaution incase he came towards you. You had the high ground and a weapon that could reach him from afar and that gave you the confidence to answer back. “You must think very highly of yourself, Sir, if you think I was spying on you.”

“Then what were you doing?” He eyed his clothes that sat in a bundle a few feet from where you stood. You caught a shine of silver in amongst the fabrics and you knew immediately that he wasn’t worried about his dignity, he was keeping an eye on the weapons concealed at the bottom of the pile.

“I am looking for my supper,” you wiggled the bow in your hand and gave him a look that said ‘isn’t it obvious?’, “you shouldn’t be here.”

“Says who? You?” he sneered, crossing his arms over his chest as if he only just realised he was naked in front of you.

“Yes, says me,” you huffed in frustration.

The man grumbled something under his breath but didn’t move.

“I saw some deer on my route here, a mile that way,” the man pointed in the opposite direction to which you came, “I will be gone by the time you get back.”

Part of you felt bad for making such a fuss about this stranger being here, you didn’t own these woods after all, but the other part of you knew that you couldn’t trust strangers travelling through the path you frequently used and was so close to your home.

You paused a little too long and the mans patience was wearing thin.

“Or you can stay here and continue to watch me bathe,” he growled, and you heard the underlying threat in his words: when I am finished here, I will fight you.

“If I see you again I will not hesitate to let my arrow fly towards you.”

“My knife will be in your back before you get the chance.”

You rolled your eyes at his quip, not willing to argue that an arrow can fly quicker than a knife or that you knew you were closer to his weapons than he was, and left to find your supper.

You hear his frustrated grunts before you see him. You crept closer to see the man you had stumbled upon in the river just the day before, struggling to light a fire. The sparks he was trying to create weren’t enough to light the kindling he’d bundled together in front of him, and the more he became annoyed the more he was hitting his thumb rather than the flint in his hand.

You noticed the dead rabbits at his feet and subconsciously licked your lips. Maybe you could both help each other out this night.

“Do you need a fire?” Your question had him pulling his sword from his belt and pointing it in your direction which was, fortunately, far enough away that he couldn’t hurt you with it.

“I am beginning to think you are not just a pain in my ass but also a bad omen,” the man lowered his sword slowly once he recognised who you were.

“I think this is rather good luck actually,” you countered with a small smirk. You crossed your arms and leaned against a tree just as a rumble of thunder sounded overhead.

“What do you want?”

“You have food, I have fire, we should work together to not go hungry another night.”

“No luck with the deer?”

You shook your head sadly. This man hadn’t been lying, when you reached the area he had told you about there was plenty of evidence of the animals having been there, but there had also been proof of people, other hunters that had gotten there first.

The man seemed to be thinking seriously on your offer, looking forlornly at the piece of flint and metal in his hand. Another crash of thunder had him making up his mind.

“We have a deal,” the man picked up his belongings, along with the rabbits, and motioned for you to lead the way.

“It is only fair you share what you caught in my part of the woods,” you failed to hide the humor in your tone but it had the desired effect. The man huffed next to you.

“I do not see anywhere that states these are your woods,” he mumbled loud enough for you to hear. The rabbits in his hand swung into your leg annoyingly, and you were sure he was doing it on purpose.

“What is your name?” you asked just as your cottage was coming into sight over the hill.

“Pero.”

You told him your name and walked the rest of the way in silence.

Your cottage was small, only one room with a bed in the corner and a fire that took up most of one wall. Baskets scattered the floor holding everything you had foraged from the woods, mushrooms and berries, plants for medicines, vegetables from your garden.

You headed straight to the fireplace to get it started but kept one eye on your new acquaintance as you got to work.

Pero was studying your little cottage from where he awkwardly stood by your door. With your foot you pushed a stool in front of the fire.

“Sit, get comfortable, ready the rabbits for the fire.”

You thought by giving his something useful to do he would feel more comfortable, and it worked for a while. He skinned the animals and placed them on the metal spit you passed to him and then hooked them over the fire.

“Why does your husband not hunt for you?”

The question took you by surprise. It was obvious you were the only person who lived in this cottage, the bed only big enough for one, hunting for your own food, and bringing him back to your cottage was more than enough confirmation that you were not married.

“Because he does not exist,” you replied bluntly.

Pero reached out to turn the rabbits around but said no more.

“Why does your wife not keep you in check?”

Pero’s dark eyes glared at you.

“She does not exist.”

You pretended to nod thoughtfully, only to receive a huff of laughter from your usually moody friend.

“You are not from this land.”

A thoughtful look crossed Pero’s features as he turned his attention back to the fire.

“I have not belonged to any land for a long time.”

There was a sadness to his tone that you couldn’t help but pity. You hid it well, you didn’t think he would appreciate pity from a stranger.

“Why are you here?”

“Looking for work. You ask a lot of questions.”

“You are the first person I have spoken to in months.”

You found yourself opening up to Pero over supper. He listened in genuine interest as you showed him the many plants you had found in the woods, telling him what each of them did for different ailments. He told you about someone he once knew who could wield a bow better than anyone. You argued with him then, promising to demonstrate what a great shot you were the next time you went hunting. However it went unspoken whether Pero would be sticking around to see that.

You were nervous to go to sleep that evening. Pero was your only friend in a long while and you had a feeling he would be gone by morning. Pero mistook your nerves for his presence in your home, so he crossed the room in a couple of strides and handed you his dagger.

“So you feel safe with me here,” he explained and moved to make himself comfortable in front of the door, covered in a blanket you had given to him.

Pero watched you lit up in the dying flames of the fire, a content smile on his lips as your breathing evened out and you fell asleep. He was undecided whether or not to leave before sunrise, but for now he would fall into the best nights sleep of his life.

Permanent tag list: @autumnleaves1991-blog @phoenixhalliwell @computeringturtle @anu-simps @bts17army

#Floriography Series #Pero #Pero Tovar #Tovar #Pero x Reader #Tovar x Reader #Pero Tovar x Reader #The Great Wall #Pedro Pascal

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gamerwoo · 3 years

Text

[Tales from the Pack] Hansol: Fire and Ice (Part Six)

Characters: Hansol x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, angst, the smallest bit of fluff just bc hansol’s optimistic and a sweetheart

Word count: 2,420

Summary: You’ve always been one to let your emotions get the best of you – your power reflects that – and you’ve never been good at expressing them. That’s why you always thought you’d be awful with a mate, but you never thought things would be this awful.

a/n: things in bold are in english. also this takes place the same night as the last part but it explains where hansol was when minghao couldn’t find him, and what happened to his mate after she woke up. AND it does talk about rika and baekhyun and i used to have a series for them called amend buuuut i also took that down to redo it lmao so there’s not really much backstory on them other than what i have for star crossed so if you’re confused, that’s ok lmao

Previous | Next | Fire and Ice Masterlist

Hansol sat on the lawn as he usually did, staring up at the stars. He always wondered if you were looking at the stars, too. He wondered if you even liked looking stars, or what you preferred looking at instead. Did you like watching the clouds or animals in the forest? Did you like watching snow fall in the winter or rain fall in the summer? Did you still find staring at the fire comforting and pleasing even though you could easily form it effortlessly at your fingertips?

You were all Hansol thought about, and truthfully, he waited up every night for you. He never once felt you were in danger, and he knew he could find you quickly if there was danger. But for now, he was giving you space. He was just hoping you’d come back to him. If you did, he’d go see that doctor your pack recommended. If not, then he’d already be dead before the pain could get any worse – unless the silver managed to kill him first, in which case, it wouldn’t really matter anyway.

Hansol heard the front door open and shut before he heard somebody walking in the grass. He could smell Seokmin’s scent, so he knew it was him coming over.

“I’m about to go to bed, and everyone else is already in their rooms,” he told the younger boy. “I just wanted to see if you needed anything.”

“Actually,” Hansol spoke up, peeling his gaze away from the night sky to look at Seokmin, “I’ve been thinking...”

“About what?” Seokmin wondered as he sat down beside his brother.

“It’s been about a week since everything,” he began, staring at the grass between the two of them, “so I think it’s safe to go look back at the old house.”

Seokmin didn’t understand why Hansol would feel any need going back there. No doubt everything would be burned to the ground. Any belongings they had were what was left in their house, or what was put there by your pack in preparation for them to move in.

“Look for what?” he asked.

Hansol’s golden eyes practically sparkled when he looked up at Seokmin, “Something of Jiung’s or Chanseong’s. I want to give it to _____.”

“When?” Seokmin scoffed. “I don’t mean to sound mean, Sol, but do you even know if she’ll come back to you?”

“I’d go leave it at the house,” he shrugged. “I won’t go see her if she doesn’t want me to, so I’d just leave it there and go.”

“What are you expecting to find, exactly? You know there won’t be any bodies.”

“There might be. Or maybe there’s something small that didn’t get completely burned. I don’t know.”

As Hansol pushed himself off of the ground, Seokmin looked up at him, “Are you leaving right now?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “Do you wanna come help me?”

Seokmin sighed but got up as well, “Somebody has to keep you out of trouble.”

“Okay, Mr. Thunder-and-Lightning,” Hansol chuckled as the two brothers walked closer to the edge of their property and into the woods, “I think you are the trouble.”

“Hey, I helped!” Seokmin insisted.

“Yeah, helped Jooyeon have a heart attack,” Hansol laughed as the two disappeared into the thick brush.

You woke from your nightmare with tears streaming down your face. You’d been doing this a lot lately: crying so hard you’d wake yourself up. But this time, it was better that you woke up in the middle of the night. It was the perfect time to slip out unnoticed.

Ever since that first day after Jiung died, you felt the alpha pull to Hanbin. It was supposed to be you, but it never was. You tried to pretend, but nothing changed. You were never fit to be an alpha like Jiung, but you knew Hanbin would do a good job to protect the others.

Before you left, you got out a pen and some paper and wrote a quick note to Rin. You knew this would have the biggest impact on her, but you couldn’t stay here. If you weren’t an alpha like you were supposed to be, what was the point? It was like you didn’t belong here, but you definitely knew you didn’t belong with Seungcheol’s pack – not after you denied Hansol. To be truthful, you didn’t even really feel the tie to the pack anymore, not after the two days spent with Hansol. So you were going to just…go. You didn’t know what you’d do, but you’d either figure it out eventually or you’d die – whichever came first.

But you also knew Rin would have her mate soon enough considering she often went out and followed him around. Sure, he didn’t know since Rin kept herself invisible, but just knowing where her mate was and knowing he was doing okay was what you assumed would help her cope. It was why she was hidden the entire time his pack was here: she didn’t want her mate to see her and imprint on her – not until she learned how to speak to him, at least. So you hoped she’d be okay after you left, and that she’d learn Korean to finally go introduce herself to him. He seemed like a nice enough guy, anyway. He’d definitely help her get better and would make sure she was happy.

Rin,

When you read this, I’ll be gone. I don’t know where I’m going, but please don’t look for me. I know you’ll think I betrayed you by leaving, and I won’t try to make any excuses for myself. You were alone when Jiung and Chanseong you here, and all you had was us to rely on. I always promised to stick beside you, and I’m completely breaking that promise. I know you’ll hate me, and I deserve it. But I want you to know I still love you, and I hope you’ll do okay. And try not to stress so much – your mate will love you no matter what.

Please take care of yourself.

-_____

You left the note on your pillow before grabbing Jiung’s sweater that you left laying over the back of your chair, tugging it over your head, and going to the window. You pushed the window open before leaping out and landing softly on your feet before you ran into the woods, leaving behind your home, and the pack you used to consider family.

The wolves could already smell that burnt smell from the house, but they continued to run in their wolf forms until they were closer. They didn’t shift back until they reached the clearing where their house used to stand. But now, everything was reduced to rubble and ash.

“Shit…” Seokmin mumbled, looking around the plot of land they used to call home.

A place that once held bright and lively memories now looked dark and dead. They couldn’t believe this was the same place they used to run around and play. They couldn’t believe a large, warm house once stood here. On the other hand, they couldn’t believe that said house was now destroyed. It was all just a bunch of ash and useless pieces of debris.

“I’m gonna sift through some of this and see if there’s anything we can take back,” Seokmin said, gesturing toward the largest pile of dark ash.

Hansol just went over to where he last remembered seeing Jiung, all but ignoring Seokmin. There were small piles of ash around the house, which must’ve been all the dead or severely injured that they couldn’t save. There were even some detached body parts mixed in, but thankfully that stench was covered by the smell of the burned house that attacked his nose.

He reached the general area and got down on his bare knees, sifting through the ashes. He felt bad disturbing anything that might be a body, but he was determined to find something – anything – to make you feel like you could have even a little bit of closure. Hansol just wanted you to be happy.

Something suddenly caught his eye. It was something gold that shone in the moonlight above, which was what made him notice it. He brushed away some of the ash before picking up some sort of pendant on a thin gold chain. It was a plain gold circle, no bigger than a small coin, and it had Jiung’s first initial and your first initial engraved on it with a dot in between the two letters. Jiung and _____.

Hansol let the chain dangle from his teeth – he obviously didn’t have pockets, and that’s how he’d have to carry it in wolf form anyway – before searching through the rest in case there was anything else. He found a ring that had a date engraved on it as well. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he figured he should bring it just in case.

“Hansol!” Seokmin called as he rushed over with a few books in his arms. “I found a photo album, one of Danbi’s books, and a few picture frames that made it out.”

“Good job,” the younger wolf smiled. “Let’s get back to the house before sunrise, yeah?”

So the two shifted before Seokmin collected the small stack of things in his mouth, and the two raced off to their new home, happy with the small things they were able to find.

Hansol and Seokmin could hear their names being called before they even got close to home. They picked up their pace, Hansol howling to let them know they were nearby and safe.

When they finally made it back to the house, almost all the wolves were outside, waiting for the pair to return. Seokmin immediately dropped what he had in his mouth, but Hansol kept the ring and the necklace balanced carefully between his teeth.

Jihoon looked down at the ground, scanning over the things Seokmin brought before looking at the two wolves, “Did– Did you two go back to the house?! Are you kidding me?! You both could’ve gotten killed!”

Seokmin whined but Hansol didn’t regret it. He got what he was looking for.

“Jia’s been looking for you,” Seungcheol told Hansol.

The boy carefully placed the jewelry in the grass before shifting and collecting his two items, “Why?”

The eldest alpha sighed, running a hand through his dark hair, “_____ ran away from her pack.”

Hansol paused like he was trying to see if his instincts were about to suddenly warn him about his mate, but when nothing happened, he shrugged, “She’s okay.”

“What?” Soonyoung gasped. “You’re not even gonna go check on her?”

“No, she wants her space,” he insisted. “If something bad happens, then I’ll go find her, but until then, me smothering her won’t help.”

Junhui pointed at the gold pieces of jewelry that the younger wolf held, “What’re those?”

“They’re gifts,” he replied, smiling softly to himself as he looked down at the jewelry in the palm of his hand, “for _____.”

Maybe Rika was right. Maybe Baekhyun was the worst. Maybe you should’ve listened to the tiny mate whenever she complained about him. But you always found Baekhyun pretty enjoyable since he had about the same snarky attitude as Rin. But now, you were deciding to reconsider that.

Had he not had been sniffing around your property, you wouldn’t have been caught. Had he not been having issues with not only his mate -- if you could call her that -- and his pack, he wouldn’t have stopped you.

Had Chanyeol not been worried when he realized his brother was missing and gone out to find him, you would’ve gotten away.

“Can’t burn me if I burn too, _____,” Chanyeol sang as he forcefully carried you to their house.

But you had stressed that you didn’t want anyone knowing about this. Baekhyun couldn’t tell Rika, and neither of them could snitch on you to their pack. And considering the mental state they found you in, even Baekhyun knew not to double-cross you even though he just replied with, “I’ll think about it”.

Sneaking you inside was easy because the pack was asleep. So Chanyeol brought you up to Baekhyun’s room before setting you on the bed while Baekhyun shut the door. Then he turned to look at you, quirking an eyebrow while Chanyeol just studied you with furrowed brows.

“So...what happened?” Baekhyun quizzed.

He knew what happened to your alpha already. Their pack was friends with yours, and there was also the tie to Rika. But he didn’t understand what caused you to suddenly snap.

“I don’t have to tell you,” you told him, your arms crossed over your chest.

He shrugged, “Fair. But if you’re missing, I’m sure your pack will go looking for you when they realize, and then they’ll tell us what’s going on. And Rika will love me for saving her sister from a mental break.”

Your eyes widened, “I’m not going back.”

“You’re not going to do something stupid, either,” Chanyeol stated.

“I wasn’t!” you insisted. “I was just running away, okay?”

Baekhyun bit the inside of his cheek. He figured you must’ve realized that wasn’t the pack you belonged in anymore. They knew Hanbin was the alpha when they saw him last, sensing the authority radiating off of him and the way the pack acted around him. It was obvious.

But they didn’t know why you weren’t the alpha. So where did you belong?

“Is it because--”

“Where’re you gonna go?” Baekhyun cut off Chanyeol before he could ask a stupid question.

You just shrugged, “I don’t know. I can take care of myself, though.”

While Baekhyun would’ve rather just had you stay with them, he knew Junmyeon especially would ask a lot of question. And it was obvious you didn’t want to be bothered with that. Not only that, but he’d contact Hanbin.

Finally, he let out a sigh and grabbed your upper arm, “C’mon, let’s go.”

“Go where?” you asked.

He brought you to his bedroom door, whispering, “I’m gonna stay at the hut with you so I can know you’re safe, but so you’ll be away from everybody.”

You were surprised Baekhyun was doing something to help you, but you didn’t say anything else to him until you were out of the house and a good distance away.

“Won’t your pack wonder where you went?” you pointed out.

He just shrugged, “Eh, probably not.”

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glitxhwayventeen · 3 years

Text

Lonely Hearts Club

Seokmin: Chapter 4 (Let Your Heart Hold Fast)

Characters: Seokmin x female reader

Genre/Warnings: multi-member au (different scenarios), werewolf au, fantasy, angst, fluff, implied toxic masculinity, food mentions, sexual mentions/jokes, mentions of the dead, mentions of potential violence. Any others will be put as warnings when future chapters are thought up/written. Please let me know if I’ve missed anything!

Author’s Note: For those of you asking, yes Soonyoung is Seungcheol’s mate in all the story lines but his own. Don’t ask me why, I just see it this way. I’m trying not to make every single chapter for every single member super angsty but your girl is a simple sad bitch so I can’t help it. Also, if I made another Seventeen Werewolf AU in a different universe following a different concept, would you guys read it? Let me know pls because I have an idea but I don’t wanna make it if no one would be interested in it.

Please remember that all of these chapters and the content within them are a work of fiction! They’re just for fun/entertainment!

Bold= Dialogue Italics= Thoughts

☁️

Lonely Hearts Club Master List

Chapter 4: Let Your Heart Hold Fast

Since you had gotten back to the pack’s house, things had been going… pretty well actually. You were getting along well with everyone, you were getting used to staying in a house again, and you had pretty much become content with living with a bunch of other wolves. You were still a bit awkward with your mate. It wasn’t necessarily bad, but it did make certain things… uncomfortable.

For instance, you guys stayed in the same room now. You figured there was no point in taking up a room if you were mates with one of the boys. It seemed selfish to you to continue to have your own. So instead, you began sleeping in the same room as Seokmin. He was beyond thrilled that you decided to stay with him, but your guys interactions got very… blurred. You weren’t sure what was okay and what wasn’t okay, neither was he.

So you usually slept on one side of the bed and he slept on the other, with a pillow in between the both of you to prevent touching. Still, you two always somehow managed to cuddle in your sleep and woke up in each other’s arms. THAT’S when it got awkward. You’d start to fumble around and get all embarrassed and he’d just be sitting there plain tongue tied at what was going on.

You weren’t even sure why you were nervous. The motherfucker had already seen every angle of your body naked, so what was the big deal? You couldn’t place it. Being around him now just made you feel so on edge. Seeing him or knowing he was near you had your fingers tingling from your palm to the tip of your middle finger, it felt like even your aura was shimmering due to his presence. Everything about him made every cell in your body was electrified. It was a strange feeling. And you always hoped your mate didn’t notice, but, unfortunately for you, he did notice.

He saw how scattered and frazzled you’d get whenever he’d get near you. He felt bad for it. But he couldn’t help but want to be near you, you were his whole world. You had been very kind to him and very caring towards him. You just didn’t really understand the whole ‘forever partners’ thing. He figured it would take you a lot of time to get used to having a mate again.

But the wolf part of him also just wanted to show you that he could be as good of a mate Cyrus was. He wanted to show you he was big and strong and able to be a good provider. He couldn’t help it, it was in his nature to be naturally competitive with your past partner. It was in his nature to want to protect you and want to be seen as someone you looked at as a safe place rather than someone you looked at like you had to protect yourself. He felt bad about it. He tried to suppress it, but he just couldn’t. The toxic masculinity of the wolf instinct just wouldn’t go away.

“Morning everyone!” you chirped as you all but skipped your way down the stairs to the kitchen, immediately locking eyes with your mate and feeling a heat rise to your cheeks instantly.

You were greeted with a wave of ‘mornings’ by the crowd now in front of you as you grabbed a bowl from one of the cabinets and began to pour yourself some cereal. You could feel Seokmin’s eyes on your every movement but you tried to brush it off as best you could and pretended not to notice.

You yawned a bit in tiredness before you sat down in an empty seat semi across from your mate. You were exhausted. Sleeping for you had become a bit better now that Seokmin slept next to you, but it had also become… uncomfortable for reasons you weren’t so sure you were ready to admit yet.

“Well it sounds like SOMEONE’s still tired!” Smirked Soonyoung, who was no doubt trying to make it sexual in nature. But it was truly just a yawn.

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, tired from you keeping me up all night from having to hear you jerk one out for the umpteenth night in a row. Seriously what’s it been now? 4 days running? 5? I can’t keep track anymore.” You responded with a sly grin on your face, much to the delight of your brothers who began a symphony of laughter at your smart reply.

“Hey it’s not my fault Cheol’s withholding sex!” He explained defensively as he crossed his arms over his chest in a huff.

Seungcheol just snickered and let out a, “But It IS your own damn fault” before he continued on eating his breakfast by stuffing a spoon full of it in his mouth. At this point, you had begun joining in on the others fun and we’re holding your stomach in amusement.

“No it’s not!” Soonyoung put his hand over his heart dramatically as if he were accused of something horrendous, “You’re just being ridiculous!” He snarled at his partner angrily while the rest of you were still dying of laughter.

“I’m not being ridiculous my love, you need to be taught lessons and with you, withholding sex is the only way you learn. Therefor, I withhold sex.” Cheol replied matter of factly with a mouth full of food.

Jihoon raised his face in disgust at their conversation, “Eww gross! I don’t want to think about you two fucking!”

After that, it seemed like the laughter died down enough to have a more civilized conversation. Well, as civilized as the pack’s conversations could really get with 13 boys in it.

“So we need to go to the market today, we’re running low on supplies. Who’s all gonna go?” Joshua asked aloud, praying literally anyone would want to go out as he absolutely hated going himself.

A lot of the boys had already gotten caught or had close calls in the village. There were only a select few who could now go to the market undetected. Joshua just happened to be one of them, but he refused to go alone. He could be charming when he needed to be, but he preferred someone else come with so that he could take the things they needed and couldn’t afford while they distracted the shop keepers.

“I can go!” You raised your hand cutely with a sweet smile on your face before anyone else could say anything. Though, you did hear a loud huff that came from in front of you out of Seokmin.

It wasn’t that he wanted you to have to stay inside all the time. But the town was DANGEROUS. They had already caught half of them on multiple occasions, soon, there wouldn’t be anyone left that could go out and get supplies. And when they were caught, the boys got REAL close to being hung up on some hunter’s mantle.

Werewolves and hunters had been at each other’s throats since before even the alphas were born. So of course he didn’t want the love of his life out in the middle of a war there’s no way the boys could possibly win. If something happened to you, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. But he knew you would never see the validity of his argument. Because of this, instead of arguing with you, he decided to make his displeasure known passively.

Joshua clapped his hands together with joy, “Perfect! So (Y/N)’s in. Anyone else?”

He wasn’t super concerned about being alone now that you were going with. He knew that he could probably compel one of the younger boys who hadn’t been seen to go with him too just for safe measure. But he figured he’d ask in case he could actually get a volunteer for once. With you going, there was a good chance one of the others would decide to go willingly now too.

“If she’s going, then I’m going too.” Declared Seokmin from his seat of self pity.

The entire pack turned to look at him, including you. It wasn’t normal for him to want to go out in public. The only reason he was one of the few who hadn’t gotten exposed yet was because he was generally too scared of humans to go out. Now here he was volunteering to go because you had. He wasn’t about to let you go out without him. Boy, love sure had a way of making men do the stupidest things.

You shook your head in protest, “No. Absolutely not. You can’t go. I refuse to let you go.”

Seokmin grit his teeth in their place, “If you’re going then so am I. I’m just as capable as any of the rest of you!” He hissed out between nose flares.

That was another thing, this would also be the perfect way to show you that he could protect you and be tough for you like he wanted to. He knew you thought of him as some little boy, he wanted to change that. He wanted you to think as highly of him as he did you and this was a good way to start.

“But Seokmin-” You were swiftly cut off before you could continue with your argument.

“But Seokmin nothing. If you’re going, I’ll be right there with you watching you. End of discussion.” He finished with a bit of a growl to show you and everyone else he meant business.

The boys all looked to you as if you were the deciding voice, even though you weren’t an alpha. You were his mate and one of the few that could go. If you didn’t want him going, then they’d respect that decision. BUT both you and them also knew it meant trouble for your relationship or whatever it was you had with him if you refused it.

You groaned in frustration and thought while you drug your hands down your face in annoyance. He could get himself hurt. Did you REALLY have it in you today to protect him? You were still so on edge with him near, was it really a GOOD idea for him to be out in the human world right next to you? But part of you also knew full well that he wasn’t going to back down from his insane idea. The best you could do was humor him and PRAY that nothing bad would happen.

“Ugh fine! Whatever. But so help me god, if I have to come save your ass because you get caught, I’m definitely NOT gonna be happy.” You rolled your eyes at his narrowed ones.

He gave you a victorious grin that made you want to grab his face and pull him in for a kiss and smack him for his smugness at the same time. But instead of doing that, you all quickly adjourned to your rooms to get ready for the day to come. You just hoped it wouldn’t all go to shit.

(Updated 9/21)

#seventeen #seventeen au #seventeen angst #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #svt au #seventeen seokmin #seokmin angst #seokmin imagines #svt seokmin #svt dk #dokyeom

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sweetsubharry · 4 years

Note

Can you rec some omega harry fics pls?

Yes I can!! ^-^ So because this is a particular favourite of mine I counted 68 fics in this list so as a warning it’s a long list!!

In case no one makes it to the bottom I’ll say it here too! Please stay safe and read the tags!!💕💕

'Cause Your Embrace Keeps Me Warmer by scribblewrite

Mates and soulmates are two completely different things. Mates are two people, an alpha and omega, who bond together while knotted together when the alpha bites a bond point on the omega’s body. It ties the two of them together forever or until one of them breaks the bond. It's normally the step after marriage. One could only hope to meet their soulmate.

You Could Be My Ever After by scribblewrite

His heat was gone, finally gone, and he'd been able to sleep for longer than thirty minute intervals. Not only that, but he was in his alpha's arms. He felt warm, and safe, and protected, and he honest to god didn't want to move. Harry and Louis spend the next couple days together after they've bonded with Louis taking care of Harry and the two of them getting to know each other better. Louis and Harry meet for the first time and, being soulmates, Louis's rut and Harry's heat are triggered.

Fill My Heart With Sweetness by loopdelouis

Harry's a late bloomer, but since his luck is shit, it's no surprise that he'd be the last to get a heat, but the first to get pregnant. In high school.

Let's Embrace The Point Of No Return by sweaterpawstyles

Louis was a whole new scale of beautiful, he was richer than Harry could've ever imagined, and he was the most powerful, dominant alpha that Harry had ever come in contact with. The only problem now is that Louis is also Harry's boss.

Louis believed Harry was an alpha, and had no idea about how he had lied about his status just to get an interview with Louis. He was in too deep now and he couldn't look back.

Harry is an omega intern at an all alpha company. Louis is his boss. There's some complications.

Count The Wolves And We'll Sleep Tonight by scribblewrite

Louis's the Alpha of a powerful pack and Harry's his omega.

When Harry's taken by rogue alphas, Louis will do anything to bring him home safely.

turn the sky black into a sky blue by orphan_account

Harry forgets that noses exist. Louis is a badass motherfucker. They bang.

“I’ve been in love with you since I dropped my books in the hallway and you made fun of me when you picked up my John Green novel off the ground.”

Our Lips Are Made Of Candy by Waking_dreams

“Your knot, please, Louis,” he managed to whine. He needed it, that extra stretch and burn that made him Louis’.

“Fuck,” Louis moaned, and his thrusts became unsteady. “Can’t do it here, baby, Hazza, can’t—“

Or, Harry accidentally missed a few doses of his medicine that controls his heat and starts his heat in the middle of Biology. Oops

I Can't Hear You by kikikryslee

"I’m not supposed to be built this way!" Harry said. "I’m supposed to be shorter than you, and you’re supposed to be stronger than me and-“ “Harry!” Louis tried to interrupt. “And what if I’m not supposed to be an omega? What if my body screwed up somewhere or something? What if I’m not supposed to be your omega?” --- Or, the one where Harry is self-conscious about his body because it's not the 'typical omega body' and Louis shows him why he loves that.

You Know I'll Be by JustAnotherShadow503

Louis Tomlinson, 27, is the personal photographer for well-known model Harry Styles, 21. Louis, an Alpha, has been in love with Harry for years, though the younger man has seemingly not presented yet.

Or, the one where Louis is in love with Harry, tries to be a martyr at his own expense, and is a hopeless romantic.

Or, the one where the author is shit at coming up with summaries and hopes you'll read the story anyways.

I'd Go Out of My Way To Make Sure That You're Okay by littlepinkbow

This was for this prompt: "Harry's embarrassed about going into heat, but Louis decides it's up to him to teach Harry to be more open about what he wants."

As Small As Possible by Mickey_D

Harry is a rather shy omega who's quite convinced everyone (except his best friends) laughs at him behind his back and sometimes to his face.

Louis is a confident alpha who is taken with his best artist's friend.

Zero Means Nothing When I'm With You by StripedAndBowtied

Louis doesn't know what he's looking for until he finds it.

Harry just knows he may defy his gender norms, with his height and clumsiness, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want litters of pups running around while he does domestic things all day long.

In other words, boy meets boy and no one can stop pining.

Boys Fall Like Dominoes by orphan_account

Harry slips into an early heat while riding the tube. Naturally, that's when he meets Louis.

Looking In The Dark by orphan_account

Another self-indulgent a/b/o fic. This carries on from the same verse of Boys Fall Like Dominoes. As per always, you can find me on tumblr : domestic-harry

Enjoy! -Lis xx

Too Hot (Hot Damn) by louissass

“I’m what?”

“You’re in heat, baby,” He repeats, frowning when he catches the look on Harry’s face. “I thought you realised?”

Or, the one where Harry goes into heat in the middle of a concert but doesn't realise because of the heatwave.

i don't wanna be your friend, i wanna kiss your neck by crybaby

Harry has been in love with Louis Tomlinson for four years, five months, and thirteen days.

Harry had fallen in love with Louis Tomlinson like how he’d seen in movies, and how he’d read in all the books he’d stolen from Gemma, headfirst and shameless.

The only problem was, that in films and books, love was always either returned instantly, or else it took time for unrequited love to lose the first two letters, and since the first option was obviously not true, Harry decided he would wait for the second to become reality. And so Harry waited, three years, eight months, and four days, before his heart had been broken by a gentle rejection and a misplaced blowjob, before Louis and Gemma had packed up and gone to Manchester for university.

(Harry is a hopelessly romantic omega and Louis is his sister's best friend)

Drape Me In Your Warmth by fookinglousers

TMH era fic where Harry is an omega whose heat comes a little earlier than expected and really, who is Louis to deny him his knot?

pick my petals off (make my heart explode) by orphan_account

It’s when he’s frantically looking into the medicine cabinet for something to take that it hits him. He stares at the bottles of pills in horror, realizing what’s going on with him.

He’s completely forgotten about his suppressants. And he’s been spending so much time with Louis, too—of course the alpha’s constant proximity is going to trigger it.

He breaks into a sweat, now recognizing the hot feeling twisting inside him.

He’s going into heat.

(harry unexpectedly goes into heat in the middle of finals, and louis, being the good boyfriend that he is, helps harry through it.)

harry, you little shit by juliusschmidt

Harry’s an omega and he’s learning to like it. A lot.

All These Lights by MediaWhore

“People vote for alphas because they’re strong and they’re not only beautiful but also mesmerizing. They make you want to give them all of your attention, make you want to beg for some of theirs back. They’re shiny, oozing sex appeal and a commanding presence, and people always want more and more. Omegas are enticing too for sure, but it’s not the same. It makes people uncomfortable. It doesn’t make them want to root for you.”

the canon fic where Harry is an omega and dreams come with a price.

Pretend It's Okay by TheIfInLife

Harry and Louis are busy with life. Busy watching Zayn and Niall's twin boys, busy hanging out with friends, busy with life. And they forget Harry's suppressants.

taste on my tongue (just can't get enough of you) by messyjessy08

“Babe?” Louis asks, running a hand through Harry’s hair, soothingly. “What is it?”

Harry shakes his head, teeth digging into his bottom lip, sharply. “My—it’s—”

Louis’ eyebrows furrow in confusion, “What, Harry?”

He pulls a hand up to his chest, pressing hard against one of his pecs, “My fucking—her crying’s making them—Lou.”

Louis gasps, understanding. He reaches a hand up, pushing Harry’s aside, and thumbs gently across Harry’s nipple, somehow already dark and swollen, without having touched them once. “Harry,” He says in a low voice, chest rumbling at the sharp gasp Harry makes.

“Lou, they’re fucking—’m leaking.”

(Harry and Louis just had a baby and it's been a while since they've had sex.)

you took your toll on me (you got a hold on me) by messyjessy08

“Well give us a twirl. Let’s look at you from every angle.”

Harry cocks an eyebrow, gaze heavy. “Alright.” Pulling back the tail of his shirt, he spins slowly, pausing when his back’s facing Louis.

“Harry.” Louis attempts to gather his wits, speechless. “Baby.”

“Thought you might like that part as well,” Harry says, a smirk in his voice.

Thick strips of lace drape delicately over his skin, just under the bottom of his spine, connecting with thin elastic straps that move across his arse, leaving little sections of bare skin showing. The straps connect to form a diamond pattern, creating an opening right over where his hole would be. The skin surrounding it is already shiny with slick. Louis’ breath gets trapped in his lungs.

(Harry and Louis have the weekend to themselves, they make the most of it.)

This Thing Upon Me (howls like a beast) by SadaVeniren

Harry and Louis weren’t meant to be together. They’d met when they were put together through their university’s AO MatchUp, a program that set up alphas and omegas based on the schedules of their ruts and heats so they had someone to help them through it. It was pure luck that they were put together.

Lunch Break by purpleeyestelllies

Harry decides to bring his alpha lunch at work and surprise him with a visit from him and their baby daughter. Louis gets more than one surprise.

drunk on rose water by brainwaves

It’s the first time in a few years that Harry has a strong desire to risk everything for something he loves.

The last time, it was being a fashion model. This time, it’s Louis.

with his educated eyes (and his head between my thighs) by orphan_account

"We're...we're not the same," Harry says softly, looking at his hands. "I don't care," Louis replies back, fire and fury in his eyes.

or where Harry is just a little boy in a world full of arseholes, Louis is in way over his head, and destiny is a bunch of shit.

Everything I Do (I Do It For You) by LSFOREVER

"It's gonna be perfect," Harry whispers, taking Louis' face in both of his hands, nosing close but not yet kissing him. "Always is. You always make everything perfect."

"Good. Whenever your heat finally kicks in, I'll make sure to treat you perfectly too... I'm gonna bond you so hard."

or, Harry's heat is coming up and they've planned to finally bond, so Louis decides to plan a very eventful and loving week leading to said bonding.

resolutions and lovers in the kitchen by orphan_account

Their dinner’s probably going cold, but this feels monumental. So instead of sitting them down on the table and talking about it face to face over chicken and pasta, Harry just puts his hands over Louis’ where they’re settled on his lower stomach, not letting the moment slip past them. He takes a deep breath, carefully arranging his thoughts. “She looks really lovely, Louis. Positively glowing. Her bump’s so big, and…” he trails off, breath hitching slightly when Louis lifts his hand higher, settling it right over Harry’s stomach, and that’s—

“And what, baby?” Louis asks, voice now dropped to a whisper, and Harry has to take a moment to collect his thoughts.

“She, um. She knows about you, of course, and she asked me when we’re—when we’re having a baby of our own.”

(harry teaches little kids and louis writes sports articles. they're trying for a baby.)

Make It Work by fanshae

Prompt: Arranged marriage AU. Harry is an omega who has reached the age where he must be married due to his family's income status. Only the aristocratic omegas are exempt. His parents try to hide him but eventually the government gets word and in punishment, gives the omega to a spoiled aristocrat son of a lord, Louis. Louis is more than thrilled to have his own omega and once Harry goes into heat, he explores the boy with fascination and unintentionally impregnates him. This leads to a boy used to living carefree and drinking the day away with other nobles to having to face fatherhood.

This is only vaguely similar to the prompt so I'm sorry to OP in advance v.v

Stars Will Align For Us by 2tiedships2

"The serial monogamist is single," Niall said by way of introduction when he sat down across from Harry in the canteen.

Harry sipped his chocolate milk. "What are you going on about?"

"Your alpha dream boat," Niall said. "That tiny little footie player? I heard from Hannah that he's broken it off with his boyfriend so he’s single and ready to flamingle. Now's the time to make your move."

Harry sipped his chocolate milk harder to keep himself from replying.

Or the one where Harry is an omega at a loss of how to get past his pining and gain the attention of Louis...especially considering the alpha is always in a relationship.

Watch the Sun Coming Up by SadaVeniren

As Louis approaches his thirtieth birthday his pack is desperate for him to find a mate.

Harry has always expected one day he may settle down with a nice alpha and they would continue to live in his small hometown.

Together they somehow will make this work.

Dancing Shadows by SadaVeniren

The house was quiet by the time Louis walked up to it. He’d been away for a week and while it wasn’t the longest he’d ever been away from the pack, it was the longest he’d been away from Harry and the kids.

i'll be hurt from the heat (running from the heat) by itiswhatitisbutterfly

It's engrained into him, nothing else matters, protecting Harry at all costs is what pumps his heart and floods his veins. It’s just, he didn't count on the one thing Harry would need protecting from would be himself.

(Harry and Louis are in love, and they are probably soul mates. They just can’t be bond mates because despite the undeniable pull, it's them against the world.)

A Howl in the Night by emeraldharry

They've been trained to become Alpha protectors of their city, tasked to battle gruesome beasts and put their lives at risk on a daily basis.

Louis is a skilled warrior and dedicates his life for the protection of others, along with his four adopted brothers and comrades; Zayn, Liam, Niall, and Harry.

Troubles emerge when Harry proves to be a little less like the older Alphas, finding it hard to become who he's supposed to be and failing to reach other people's expectations towards him as a soldier.

Somewhere along the way, Louis and Harry realize that there's more than brotherly love between them, and that the world they live in requires a whole lot of suffering and sacrifices.

The biggest challenge yet arrives when the choice finally comes down between two things: their love for each other, or their responsibilities to the world.

[alpha/beta/omega dynamics with a twist]

Pretty Please (With Sugar On Top) by angelichl

Harry is a sugar baby omega who cons rich alphas for a living. Louis is a rich alpha with too much self-control.

Peppermint and Lavender (and Coffee) by 2tiedships2

“He was there again,” Louis announced by way of greeting. “Lottie was right and she can never know.”

"What the fuck are you talking about?” Niall asked as he snapped his laptop closed.

“The omega, Niall. He was there today. Just sitting in the corner looking pretty. Or at least his back is. He hasn’t turned around when I’m available to see. I know he’s beautiful though.”

"Okay?” Niall questioned. “What does that have to do with Lottie?”

Louis let out a huff. "She told me I shouldn’t work at a coffee shop. She was right.”

Or the one where Louis might have met the love of his life in a coffee shop. But that’s not how it’s supposed to happen.

Shadows Come With The Pain That You're Running From (Love Was Something You've Never Heard Enough) by hlftanna

“Thanks, Ni, I guess I needed to hear that,” Harry sighed and wrapped his own arms around Niall and squeezed him tightly not caring if Liam would be mad. He missed Niall so much.

“Does it really come as a surprise to you that I’m right? Shaking my head, Haz. You should know me better,” the brunette teased. Harry giggled again.

“You know Hazza, you really are so different to all the other alphas out there. You’re soft, caring, cuddly and sweet and those damn dimples. So freaking pretty, it’s almost annoying. I would hate you if you weren’t my best friend. You’d really be a brilliant omega. Nature really did a number here,” Niall mumbled. It was his turn to smash his nose into Harry’s neck and Harry was extremely thankful for that because he wasn’t sure he had his facial expression in check at all.

Or a Band AU in which Harry isn't allowed to be who he really is and the North American Tour might bring some unexpected truths into the web of lies and also a bit of heat that has very little to do with the summer in the US.

Home (It's You) by sunniskies

When Louis left his high-powered life in the city to settle down in the suburbs, he had hoped to one day fall in love and start a family. He certainly didn’t expect to meet the omega of his dreams within five minutes of moving in.

He also didn’t expect the love of his life to hate him so much.

Or, Louis and Harry are neighbors who can't seem to get along...until they fall in love.

sometimes green and sometimes blue by itsmiz

Harry's an omega, and Louis is an Alpha. They're best friends growing up together on the outskirts of Washington, D.C., but they've always been a bit more than friends.

little bitty rattle (and all our dreams are comin' true) by itsmiz

Louis and Harry are young mates in love. This is the story of them expanding their family, and all the love, hormones, and events that come with that.

cradles and crayons by itsmiz

Harry and Louis continue to expand their family.

Just Jump by jaerie

Finally, after years of suffering alone, the insurance plan at Harry's new job covered omega heat services. As a grown omega adult, it finally felt like the right time to try it out. And, since taking an entire week of heat leave would really put him behind at work, using a service to shorten it seemed like a responsible decision. At least that’s how he rationalized it. He was nervous about his decision but it was too late. The doorbell rang.

“Hi!” The alpha said again and Harry took the hand he offered and shook it firmly. “I’m Louis from Omega Services. It’s nice to meet you.”

Want It Flowing Through My Streams by screwstyles

Wimbledon ABO AU: Harry has just qualified for his first Grand Slam, and he’s prepared to make the most of it – that is, until his heat unexpectedly hits him only a few days before his first match. And it’s just his luck that Louis Tomlinson, the resident bad boy of British tennis, is the only person around to help him.

hard to confess by hereforlou

One, they only did it without a condom once (and a half) and not during his heat. Never during his heat. Two, he never once forgot to take his birth control (he’s almost sure). Three, his plan is to be married for a year before he even starts trying for a baby, and not only is he very, very single, him and Louis aren’t even sleeping together anymore. Which brings him to reason number four why this can’t be happening: Louis. Louis doesn’t want a baby with Harry.

(Or, the one where Harry knows he messed up and Louis knows nothing.)

Just a touch of your love by thegirlontheblackhoodie

“What if something happened to you? What would I say to Niall?”

“Nothing, he would have to wait to see my corpse on the news like everyone else.” Deadpanned Harry. Louis’ gasp was all the answer he got. Ok, so that might have been a bit too much. With a calmer voice, he said, “It’s really fine. I’ve walked to the tube countless times, I can handle myself. Just go home and tell Niall to stop mothering me.”

Louis was finally walking by his side and gave him a sideways glance before talking. “He doesn’t know, does he? Of your, uh, condition.” Harry tensed and his breath became erratic, but he didn’t say a word. Louis continued. “His nose probably hasn’t picked it up, and you’re lucky Liam’s also a beta, but it took me a minute to confirm it. Your scent is gettin’ so…” He seemed to struggle to find a word. He didn’t finish the sentence, but the emotion in his voice made Harry’s tummy churn.

Or, Harry is a touch starved omega trying to get through it on his own. Louis happens to be the only alpha around to realize it and offers to help.

Face Your Fears by SadaVeniren

Harry is a single father, pretending to be a beta after his alpha mated him and left him. He’s getting by just fine raising the twins when Louis walks into his bakery. Too bad him and Louis will never be a thing.

I Just Want You to Stay by SadaVeniren

“Remember the vet job up in Edinburgh I interviewed for right before your rut?” Louis nodded. “She just called me back. I got the job. I start next year.” Harry let out a shriek as he said the word year and he clapped his hands in delight. “Isn’t that great! Full time vet job! New animals to meet! A new environment!” He settled his eyes back on Louis, who was still standing there in front of him with wide eyes. “Isn’t it great, Lou?”

That seemed to jolt Louis out of his thoughts and he nodded immediately, opening his arms up for Harry to dive into. “Holy shit, yes. Congratulations. Come here,” he wrapped his arms around Harry and cuddled him close, pressing his nose into Harry’s neck. “Holy shit,” he whispered.

aka Louis and Harry have been roommates for four years, comfortable in their routine and their relationship. But all of that is about to change.

kiss with a fist (is better than none) by orphan_account

Harry and Louis don't get on at all.

BUT they do, in fact, do an awful lot of getting off~

Harry startled visibly, shaking off his deer in the headlights look and huffing quietly. Louis took a final, lingering glance along his scant frame, except the puppy chub at his hips, and then kept washing his hands with a faint sneer. He expected words, biting and sarcastic, as usual. Instead, he was met with silence. Confused, Louis turned back to him as he dried his hands, ready with a scathing remark. It died on his tongue. Harry's eyes were locked, very deliberately, on his crotch. His crotch, which was still unzipped, and therefore dick on display. Oh fuck.

“My eyes are up here, Styles,” Louis growled, cheeks flushing despite himself as he reached to do up his fly.

“Leave it.” It rasped from Harry's throat, thick and shaky. Louis froze, fingers cupping himself.

“Excuse me?”

Sigh Softly by aalexandravictoriaa

It was an unconventional nest, to say the least. Quite inconvenient too, not that Louis would ever dare admit that. The fact that his omega was nesting could only mean that he was pregnant and Louis’ chest rumbled at the mere thought. Harry stirred from his perch, blinking his eyes open at the sound of his growling alpha. Louis shushed him immediately and tucked him back into the safety of his nest. Louis just so happened to make up the majority of said nest.

Do Not Falter (There's a Star Ahead) by LadyLondonderry

It's Christmas Eve, and every single one of Louis' family members are crowded inside his little flat. Really, what more could he ask for on his birthday?

The present he never knew he wanted - in the form of an omega from his past - might just make this his most memorable Christmas.

a body wishes to be held & held by turnyourankle

Harry wants to return the favour after Louis helps him out with his heat.”

the beast you made of me by orphan_account

The bell tinkled, and Harry froze as an overpowering scent, musky and thick, crisp and slightly sweet, yet utterly masculine, delightfully tickled his senses. Harry's eyes slowly slid up to see the source of this wonderful scent, and his breath was taken away at the sex god before him, all muscled and compact and utterly screaming of Alpha. Icy blue eyes stared him down, set off by sharp cheekbones, a stubbled jaw that looked yummy enough to nibble on, and caramel hair, which was lazily gelled, a few pieces falling over his forehead. His skin was tan, his hands strong and steady, his biceps still clearly visible even through his jacket. Every fiber of Harry's being stood at full alert.

The one where Harry's a vanilla-sweet Omega and Louis walks into his bakery one day.

How Much My Heart Depends by lululawrence

Louis is an alpha working as a fraud analyst who keeps having Bad Days. Harry is an omega working in Quality Support who shares a cubicle wall with Louis and only wants to help. Maybe this is the perfect chance for them to finally meet face to face.

A Tentative Peace by colourexplosion

“I dunno.” Harry’s not whining, he’s not. He pulls himself free, finally, turns away and busies himself again with the dishes. “I didn’t want it to be weird.”

“It’s not weird,” Louis says, appearing in Harry’s periphery when he leans against the sink. “Biology, innit? You know I’m always here for you.”

It stings. Louis won’t sit and have a conversation with Harry, but sure, he’ll fuck him through a heat like it’s nothing. “It’s a little more than biology,” he mumbles, but Louis either doesn’t hear him (not likely) or flat out ignores him (very likely).

(Or, A/B/O featuring omega!harry and alpha!louis.)

Seeing Blind by zedi

Louis finally turns his head in Liam’s direction, knows his face is showing the longing he’s been aching with ever since it took root in his chest. “What the fuck do I do, Liam? He wouldn’t want me like that, but I want-” his voice cracks, and he turns his face back downwards. “What do you do when you’re not perfect for the person who’s perfect for you?”

OR the one where Harry’s an independent omega who likes to have his fun and Louis is the blind alpha that changes Harry’s priorities.

wanna taste your heart, don't interfere by orphan_account

Harry still remembers how unsure he felt when he first told Louis, how self-conscious he was. Louis had been nothing but understanding and kind, though, reassuring him that nothing’s going to change between them, that they’re still best friends regardless of sex. Harry had been mostly relieved at that, because he really doesn’t want to lose Louis as a friend over this, but another part of him had been a bit sad because… well, because nothing changed between them. Or rather, there is change, but it’s completely one-sided as far as Harry can tell.

This change being him not getting enough of the way Louis smells. He just can’t help it, is the thing, unable to stop himself from trying to subtly press his nose against the fabric of Louis’ shirt by his shoulders. He still smells like faint cologne and sweat, which is enough to make Harry start feeling slightly dizzy.

(harry presents as an omega, louis is his alpha best friend, and there are hidden feelings that just get harder to control.)

A Distant Hazy Light by green_feelings

Life’s pretty ordinary for Harry. He lives with his best friend, got into university just like he’s planned, and manages to support himself just fine for an unbonded omega. If he sustains that lifestyle by getting paid to help alphas through their rut every now and then, that’s nothing to be hung up on. Until he’s hired by an alpha that turns everything upside down.

Or, Harry’s working on taking Louis’ walls down, until he builds his own up.

London Calls Me a Stranger by Thatscoolbutwhataboutlarry

"Hello, my beautiful, conceited coquette."

"Hi, daddy."

Or the one where Harry is a tease, and Louis is his new neighbour.

Between the Shadow and the Soul by orphan_account

“It’s just easier to stay in Donny and train, Haz,” Louis says quietly. “Two transatlantic flights in less than a week right before a big match is a terrible idea. We should have known that before, but...”

Harry nods. It’s reasonable. It’s totally, completely reasonable and Harry can support that. Another five or six days of not being able to hold Louis’ hand and kiss him sweetly is killing Harry, but he can handle it. “Okay, so that’s, what, the 20th that you’ll be coming over here?”

Louis hesitates, and Harry has to bite back a frustrated growl. “I’ve got writing sessions and time in the studio scheduled as of yesterday, plus I’m supposed to get papped clubbing in London again and just… it’s shit but there’s no time to make the trip until early May, at the least.”

Or, Harry and Louis spend a month apart.

Wonderland by jacaranda_bloom

Louis has always loved lazy mornings in bed with his mate, but now that his Omega is carrying their pup, they’ve reached a whole new level of wonderment.

OR the one where Louis loves to worship his Omega’s body and Harry loves to let him.

All I Needed by FallingLikeThis

Harry is the omega captain of the Slytherin quidditch team with a team that won't listen to him. Louis is the alpha captain of the Gryffindor team who doesn't know how to offer help without seeming like a knothead, pushing his opinions on Harry. When he comes up with a rather questionable plan to try and get Harry to ask him for help, they may just both get what they need.

Come In and Change My Life by lightswoodmagic (sarah_writes)

He’d had the same neighbours since he’d moved into the building, a lovely, wealthy couple in their late sixties who had always invited him around for tea on Sundays. Martha had dropped off homemade biscuits the day he’d moved in, so Harry figured he may as well repeat the sentiment. He could hear someone getting closer to the door just as a flush ran through his body; oh fuck. His heat was close, too close to be knocking on a potentially unknown alpha’s door, but it was too late. The door swung open, and Harry’s mouth dropped. He’d never been overly interested in football, couldn’t find the fascination in watching men run around after a ball for hours aside from their uniforms, but he knew who this was. Louis Tomlinson, alpha, captain of Manchester United, star in a number of Harry’s heat addled fantasies, was his new next-door neighbour.

Or, Harry and Louis become friends when Harry looks after Louis' cat during away games, until one night at a party changes everything between them. It's just a shame Louis' going to be away for the FIFA World Cup for three months.

Put It Into Words by orphan_account

“It’s a good storm though, our families,” Louis says, flopping down on to the bed and cuddling close to Harry. He tucks his arm around Harry’s waist, kissing his temple. “The Cheshire house is perfect to raise the baby; your mum’s close, and my mum can stay in the guest bedroom when she visits.”

“And until then we have the long weekend to ourselves.”

Or, Harry and Louis go on a babymoon.

No Love Like Your Love by Rearviewdreamer

When it comes to saving the world from itself and convincing rich CEOs of environmentally harmful companies to go green, there's nobody better than Harry Styles. That is, until Louis Tomlinson, his ex and former Alpha, is involved.

We Are Inevitable by mmargarita

“What’s the second flaw?”

“The second inevitable flaw in your plan is:” Louis stood straight and walked towards Harry, grabbing his chin. Harry’s breath hitched. “Us.” Louis smiled. “We’re inevitable, baby. We’re soulmates, and we both know it. You just need to come back to me.” . . . 30/07/2020: This work has been edited and corrected, and now has 7k words more.

Take Me As I Am by lovelarry10

“Suppressant? But… why would I need a suppressant? Alphas don’t take suppressants.”

“You’re right, they don’t.”

****

Secrets. Lies. Deception. Betrayal. Self-discovery.

Alpha. Omega. How far will they go to hide the truth?

to wrap me in paper by juliusschmidt

Louis hasn't been keeping track of his ruts, but, it turns out, Harry has.

If you’ve made it to the end then congrats! and please stay safe and read the tags!!💕💕

266 notes · View notes

flowercrown-bard · 3 years

Text

A new us will begin (2/ 11)

word count: 2k

AO3

part 1 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6

cw: Major Character Death, child death, blood, injuries

Jules didn’t know what witchers were. He was too young to understand and no one had ever answered his questions when he had asked about them. They must be something truly awe-inspiring if even the adults couldn’t find the words to talk about them. Jules would have found the words, he was sure of that. He knew a lot of words and he loved using them.

The adults always told him that he talked too much. Except for his Ma. She always called him her little bard.

Jules didn’t know what a bard was either, but he liked the word. It sounded like adventure and heroes and maidens being saved, like in his stories. Jules was sure bards didn’t have to go to bed when their parents told them too. They probably got to play all day long.

And most importantly, bards probably weren’t scared of the monster in the woods.

No one had told him what it was or that it was even there, but Jules was clever; he had listened in when his parents whispered about it and he had figured out all by himself why his parents didn’t want him to play in the woods anymore. But he didn’t tell his parents that he knew.

He was too young to understand, they said and it was too scary for him. That’s why they didn’t tell him about it. They never told him anything. But Jules wanted to know, know, know! He wanted to know everything. He wanted to see everything.

A bard probably got to do that. A bard wouldn’t listen to his parents when they told him to stay away from the woods. When the adults kept secrets, a bard would find out the truth himself.

So that’s what Jules did. When it was dark, he snuck out of their small house, careful not to make any noise. It was hard. The nervousness made him giggle, but he was a bard and bards must be good at being quiet and secretive so he had to try and be good at that too.

When he had made it outside, he threw one last look at the house, holding his breath and expecting that any moment the door would open and his parents would shout at him to come back inside.

The door stayed shut. A wide grin spread across Jules’ lips and he had to press his hand against his mouth to stop the excited noise from escaping.

Then he ran to the woods. They looked scarier than they did during the day. Jules often came here to play. He knew these woods. He couldn’t get lost in there. It didn’t matter that it was dark and everything looked different at night. He was his Ma’s little bard. Bards didn’t get lost.

And somehow Jules knew he was safe. He knew that no matter what, there would always be someone there to pull him out of danger by the scruff.

There’s a snap behind him.

The monster!

The boy turned around, grabbed a stick from the ground and held it in front of him like a sword. His heart was racing like the sheep he sometimes chased around, pretending they were all horses galloping together. But this wasn’t fun. This was a monster. One so scary that his parents didn’t even talk about it.

“I’m not scared!” He shouted into the darkness, waving his stick around like a brave knight.

The snapping came closer, the sound of frantic steps running towards him. Then the bushes in front of him parted. But there was no monster. It was his Ma.

“Jules!” She fell to her knees before him, taking him into her arms and holding him as close as possible. “Don’t ever run away again. Don’t ever scare me like that.”

“But I- I wanted to find the monster. It scares you and I need to protect you.”

His Ma made a choked sound. She pulled back and cupped his cheeks in her hands, looking at him seriously. It made Jules feel important, like an adult. Adults always looked at each other seriously. Bards must be serious too, so he returned the look as best he could.

“Jules, listen to me. You can never go search for monsters.” She waited until Jules nodded. “There was a witcher in town today. The White Wolf. Your Pa went to tell him to come quickly. He will take care of the monster for us, alright?”

She stood back up and held her hand out. Jules took it. Right in that moment, thunder roared through the woods. Jules frowned. There hadn’t been thunder when he had left. He had been pretty sure there were no clouds or he would have taken his coat with him.

“Ma?”

“Quiet, darling,” she hissed, her face twisting into a terrified grimace. Her grip on Jules’ hand got tighter.

“What is it, Ma? Why is there-“

Something rustled in the bushes. Jules couldn’t really see it in the dark, but something big came closer. Something with teeth as long as his arm and craws as sharp as the axe his Pa sometimes used to cut down trees. And the eyes glowed yellow.

Jules was frozen to the spot as he held the thing’s gaze. The eyes looked wrong. Yellow was a nice colour. Yellow eyes should be beautiful, but these one just looked ugly and dangerous.

Jules’ head tilted to the side, like a bird or a dog and he took a step forward. At least he tried to. As soon as he moved, his mother let out a short cry and grabbed him around the middle, yanking him back. The ground disappeared from under him as his Ma lifted him up and ran.

He had never seen his Ma run that fast. She never played tag with him, always told him to stop when he tried to run as fast as a horse, saying that the sheep didn’t like that. But now she ran, carrying Jules who clung to her as tightly as he could so that he wouldn’t fall.

Over her shoulder, he could see yellow eyes and sharp teeth disappear in the shadows. His Ma kept running until suddenly the world tilted again. She let out a sharp cry and Jules fell to the ground with her, rolling a little away from her. Quickly, he scrambled back to his feet.

“Ma?”

“I’m alright darling.” She smiled.

Adults never told Jules anything. He knew how to see when they lied. And his Ma was lying to him right now. She wasn’t alright. Her smile looked like the faces Jules sometimes pulled when he had to eat something gross and her leg looked the same that his neighbour’s leg had looked when she had fallen out of a tree once. She hadn’t been able to walk for a month then.

“I’m alright,” his Ma repeated as her smile crumbled. “Darling, you have to listen to me. Keep running. You have to get out of here. You have to get back home.”

“You’ll run with me, right?” Jules received no answer, only a choked sob. “Right, Ma?”

“You’ll have to be brave.” Tears streamed down his Ma’s cheeks and she ran a hand through his hair. “You have to be brave for me and tell your Pa what happened. I’ll be fine. Remember the White Wolf I told you about? He’ll save me. I’ll be fine.”

Jules didn’t understand. How could a wolf save his Ma? His Pa had always said that wolves were bad, that they ate his sheep. It didn’t make sense that a wolf would help now, but at least his Ma had told him the truth. It just sounded right. Like the word bard sounded right even if he didn’t know what it meant.

With determination Jules hadn’t known before, he nodded. “I’ll wait with you.”

“No! You can’t stay, you have to-“

He didn’t listen. What he had to do was be brave. He sat down next to his Ma. Even as she kept telling him to go, her arms wrapped around him and cradled him close.

Slowly her urging for him to leave turned into reassurances. Like when he crawled into his parent’s bed after a nightmare.

“The White Wolf will come. We’ll be safe. He’ll come and save us.”

She didn’t have to tell him. He already knew that and somehow it made him feel almost giddy. The White Wolf. It sounded like an adventure, like the kind of stories Jules always made up in his head before bed or when the other children didn’t want to play with him because he only ever wanted to play horses.

He wondered what the White Wolf looked like. He hoped he’d have yellow eyes, like the monster, but better. Yellow eyes would look pretty on a wolf. And for some reason the thought made him feel safe.

Apparently that didn’t work for his Ma. Her comforting voice turned into wordless sobs as the beast appeared again. Jules’ heart sped up when the monster stalked towards them. Slowly, as if it already knew they wouldn’t get away from it.

How stupid it was to think that. How stupid it was not to know that the White Wolf would save them.

The monster growled, Jules’ Ma cried and Jules…Jules began to sing. A lullaby. Just one line, the only line he knew. The one he had invented one night when his parents had fallen back asleep before Jules was convinced that his nightmare wouldn’t come back.

It made his mother smile, just a little. She pulled his head against her chest, so he couldn’t see the monster anymore. He didn’t stop singing.

“I love you,” she whispered into his hair. “You are so brave, my little bard.”

Her voice was cut off without warning by a piercing cry of pain and a terrible monstrous noise that he never wanted to hear again. Her arms tightened around Jules and he could feel something warm and wet drip down onto him. Then her grip went slack, her hands falling away.

Jules didn’t stop singing, even as the claws of the beast plunged into him, flinging him to the side. Sharp pain filled him. Hot fire in his blood. Blood that ran out of his chest. It wasn’t supposed to do that. Jules was sure that the blood was supposed to stay inside him. But it just kept flowing. Like his Ma’s tears, like his song. But his voice became garbled, something wet and gross tasting filling his lungs. He couldn’t sing anymore.

It hurt. It hurt so much and Jules wanted it to stop. Where was the wolf? Why didn’t he stop this? Why didn’t he save them?

He couldn’t see. It wasn’t just the darkness of the night. Something else was happening, something that made his eyes not work anymore. He fought to keep them open, but they fell shut anyway.

Just before his eyelids dropped, he could see the silhouette of a man jumping out of the bushes, a sword in his hand that was gleaming in the moonlight. Jules wished he could see his eyes. He knew with a burning certainty that they would be golden. He must be the witcher. The one who his mother had promised would come.

He looked beautiful, even if Jules couldn’t see much of him. He moved too fast through the shadows. He moved too fast – and he had been too late. He didn’t look like a wolf and he hadn’t protected them.

But even as Jules was filled with burning pain and his limbs became too heavy to move, a thought shot through him and with it came a wave of excitement that almost washed away the pain.

In that moment – his last moment – he knew what he wanted to do with his life. When he grew up, he wanted to go with the witcher. He wanted to sing to him the one line of his favourite song. He wanted to play horses with him.

It was the last thought he ever had before that dreamlike future died with him.

#geraskier #mcd #major character death tw #child death tw #witcher #witcher fic #my writing #fic #reincarnation au #tomorrow I'll have an exam and a presentation and I really shouldn't focus on writing right now #well

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plus-size-reader · 3 years

Text

Tired

Ron Anderson x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1785 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Rick’s daughter saving Ron’s life when the wolves attack

——————————————————————————————————

You didn't want to save Ron.

Really, you thought that he was a waste of space and that he wasn't going to ever do anything to help anyone but himself but as he and that guy neared the house, you knew that you didn't have a choice.

Carl shot the guy, taking care of one of your problems but in true Ron fashion, he refused to come inside where he would be safe. You and Carl shared a single glance before you took off after him, and he went inside.

Between the two of you and Ron, both you and your brother had a better chance of surviving this, even separated. Your dad had already taught both of you to defend yourselves, but most of them didn't know how.

They would be pigs to the slaughter out there alone and Ron was no exception.

If anything else, he was less prepared to survive than anyone else since he'd been so against listening to your dad in the first place.

"Hey stupid, you're going to die running around like that" you scoffed, yanking the scrawny male to the side of one of the houses, catching him off guard even more than before. You had went behind the houses, in the cover of the fence, while he was running down the middle of the street.

He was in plain sight, and clearly unarmed, if you were a bad guy, he would be your first target. In fact, you briefly considered just leaving him to his own devices before anything else, if that was what he wanted so bad.

"What are you doing?" he yelled, he had some nerve yelling at you like that, when you were trying to save his life. He obviously didn't understand what was really going down here, and you really couldn't blame him.

Ron had never known any better, sheltered here behind the walls like the rest of them. It wasn't right, but that didn't mean they deserved to die. Even he didn't deserve to die, as much as he hated you and your entire family.

"Just shut up and stay close to me, I'm tired of burying people" you ordered, hoping he would just keep his mouth shut and listen to you this once. Once you were sure that he wasn't going to die, you didn't ever have to speak again.

You didn't care.

There had been so many people you cared about that had died, that you'd lost but they had all died for something. If Ron got killed out here, pouting like a child, he wasn't dying for anything that mattered.

If he died out here, he was dying for nothing and you just couldn't have that. Even the worst people in existence didn't deserve that.

"You need to leave me alone, I can take care of myself" He bit, walking away from where you were keeping him against the siding. This time when he spoke, you let him walk a few feet, just to prove your point.

In those few feet, he was spotted by a pretty big guy with an axe, but lucky for him, it didn't matter how big a guy was when you had a gun. You put him down pretty easily, nailing a headshot through the middle of his forehead.

The noise made Ron jumped, and he turned toward you quickly, trying to come to terms with whatever it was that just happened. All you did was wave, holding your gun up to show him that whether he liked it or not, you were more prepared than him.

"Let's go princess, I told you once...I'm tired of burying people" you called and thankfully, this time, he listened. Ron was a lot of things, and while stupid was obviously one of them, at least he had some tact.

He asked a lot of questions though, and in your experience, that didn't work out too well for anyone.

"You should have just listened to Carl at the house" you argued, reaching back to grab his hand in your own free one that wasn't cradling the gun. You didn't have a great idea of what you were doing either, but it was enough.

It had to be enough because losing after all this time, and all the things you'd lost, just wasn't an option.

"No"

At this point, it was the only semblance of an argument he had but he was holding on to it pretty strong. Frankly, his attitude was too much for you to handle and you weren't about to deal with it.

Not right now.

Luckily for you, there was a bunker not too far from here, where the leftover resources were kept for building and things like that. It was attached to one of the houses but nobody used it for much anymore.

There was a good chance that no one else would even give it a second look, which made it the perfect place for you two to hide away from whoever it was that was out there killing these people.

If nothing else, it would keep you from being out in the open for too much longer.

Once you had slipped inside, Ron followed suit and you closed it up tight. As far as you could tell, it was the safest place you could be and for now, it would due. If someone did happen to find it, you would deal with that then.

Now, it was pretty cramped and dark in the bunker with the added lumber and steel that you were standing on but you managed to just sit down on it with enough room for you both, although you were closer to one another than you wanted to be.

The one thing the close quarters did provide was time for the two of you to talk out whatever it was he'd had up his ass lately. You knew that it was hard for him to lose his dad, but he had to have understood why he had to die.

His dad was an asshole and you would have killed him yourself if given the chance.

"Can I ask you a question?" you started, knowing that there wasn't really much of a choice on his part. You had no idea how he was going to react, but after what you'd just done for him, you weren't really in the mood to hear his excuses.

Still, you were even less willing to sit in complete and total silence all this time. As much as Ron was exhausting when he spoke, it was even worse to just have to sit this close to him with just dead air between you.

"I get why you don't like my dad, but what is your problem with my brother? Are you jealous?" you asked, when you were met with silence. Whether he wanted to answer it or not, you were going to ask. It wasn't going to hurt anything to try and have somewhat of a conversation. Neither of you liked one another, but you were here.

It was like you said before, after this, you never had to talk to each other again for all you cared.

You had paid attention well enough to know that Ron had a pretty big crush on Enid, and it was also obvious that she had an affinity for your brother. That was the only real reason you could think of that he would have cared.

He couldn't really blame you and Carl for his dad's death, that would be as pointless as blaming Judith. It didn't make any sense at all, not that you had ever really understood anything that Ron said or did.

"Why would I be jealous? Your brother is a loser" he scoffed, shuffling every so slightly away from you in an attempt to put some space between your two bodies but all he found was the wall. You were right up against one another, and space wasn't really in the cards to begin with.

If there was somewhere to go did he really think you'd still be sitting this close to him?

"Yeah? And you're not? Last time I checked, you didn't have any friends either" you countered, rolling your eyes at his attitude. It didn't matter what you said or did, he just wasn't going to let it go.

You just couldn't help but wonder why.

No one was that stubborn for nothing.

"You all just pretend to know everything when you're really just screwing it up. Life was fine here before you all came" That time there was a realness to his voice, something that told you that he wasn't just saying words to get you to shut up.

Ron actually believed that.

"How many times did he put you in the hospital?" you asked finally, there was no malice in your voice. You weren't angry or trying to hurt him, you just wanted to know. Since his death, Ron had developed some kind of affinity for his dad that you just didn't understand.

Jesse had told you the stories, just a few, of what Pete had done to both her and her boys and you weren't having it. This hero complex Ron had developed toward his father was just an excuse for his anger.

"What?" he spit back, he heard you right of course, he just couldn't believe that you actually had the guts to say that to his face. It didn't make any sense, that you would approach him like this when the two of you didn't even really talk before now.

It was ridiculous.

"Your dad. How many times did he put you in the hospital? Or did you forget about that part?" you repeated, "I know that losing people you care about is hard, but hating us isn't going to make it hurt any less, I know that too" you allowed, hoping that would soften the blow of what you were making him realize.

It was too much, more than he would ever want to realize on his own, but you didn't care. At a certain point, Ron was going to have to realize that in this world, people either lived or they died and sometimes people died.

Nothing was going to keep that from happening.

"I am sorry about how it happened, but being angry isn't going to make it any better" you hummed, deciding finally that you needed to get out of here. For you, it didn't matter if they were still out there or not.

All you knew was that you had to get out of there. You were too tired to be having this conversation with him when you knew that he wasn't listening.

191 notes · View notes

what-do-1000-swords-look-like · 3 years

Text

Holy crap this episode was funny as hell until it wasn't and then we were plunged right back into the intensity. But great episode!!! I don't lb so I don't get spoilers but man I had a lot of reactions as I watched. Ngl, a lot of cursing and caps ahead but damn was this such a good episode:

“One minute before the blackout” - now we’re to 1 minute from 1 week last week

“The place where this heart’s from, it was a tragedy. But once we land, it’s gonna turn into a miracle, right?” “Yeah, I like that” -- so once we land and settle after all of this craziness, a tragedy will turn into a miracle? I like that *looking at you Eddie*

EDDIE GET OUT OF THAT CHOPPER RN, DO NOT DO THIS TO ME AFTER SEASON 4, DO NOT!!!

Bobby going in to save the heart, hmm...

Oh, thank God - Eddie, Hen, and Bobby are all safe

Dr. Salazar - we need more of her. I love her so much.

4 Days later - hmm...

Wow, they’re really bringing Harry to the forefront here, this whole kidnapping thing is going to happen isn't it?

Harry charging neighbors and Michael and David in a sort of co-parent situation - first of all, Harry you are a GENIUS and love that Michael and David with Harry are being focused on in this episode, ahem, is there possibly a reason...?

Lou survived!!!! THANK GOD

Nearly 5 days Lou was in hospital

5 day head start for Hudson - is there something with 1, 3, 4 and now 5? I'm keeping track here, Tim

Buck is the power czar LOL - omg I love this man so much

Ravi!!! We need MORE Ravi!!! but where is Albert???

CHIMNEY!!!!! OMG I LOVE YOU - "Give me a charger or Uncle Buck will never see his niece again" - "Give him a charger" - "Well played" - "Let this be a lesson, never give that man a clipboard" - "Excuse me for being efficient" - "That’s one word for what you are" - okay #1 I will forever be in love with Chimney, probably one of my top favorite characters on this show & #2 LOVE this whole brothers interaction, Albert may not be there but Buck and Chim are still going with the whole older-brother-is-exasperated-with-the-younger-brother's-shit vibe

Oh God, here comes more cringe, yay... not so much

Eddie kisses Ana on the cheek AGAIN (Eddie, can you hear me? This is your subconscious speaking, when are you going to end this, my man?)

Ana says going to visit was Christopher’s idea since he missed Eddie and thought he was hungry - muy interesante

Buck rushing over to greet Christopher and hugging him tight is a moment I live for - outside of the whole Buck and Eddie story, I LOVE this relationship with all of my heart, I am so glad Christopher has Buck, he really is his second dad (with or without Eddie being involved)

Eddie not introducing Ana to Ravi (nor Buck saying hi) - Buck’s expression - “You must be Eddie’s wife” Christopher: “Not yet” I FUCKING LOVE THIS KID, OKAY!!!! Buck’s smile, he loves Christopher, too - love how Ana and Eddie don't say anything to dispel or clarify this

SAME FUCKING TRIGGER AND THIS TIME BUCK SEES IT!!!! OMG (Eddie, this is your subconscious again, you need to listen! The universe and I are trying to tell you something, please before any more shit hits the fan like me having to watch more uncomfortable interactions between you and your placeholder friend!)

Eddie sending Ana and Christopher on a tour with Ravi IN THE DARK at his work place so he can put SALADS AWAY

Buck’s expressions the entire time - Buck knows something's up

Ana’s expressions the entire time - she KNOWS

Thank God Bobby wasn’t around - hear me out, I have a reason for this that I am still working on in this long ass meta

Buck makes sure to not make eye contact with Ana (except quickly when Ravi is waiting to be introduced), even when Ana laughs at his “Constantly”

Eddie being a probie when Shannon came back in season 2 (and Eddie pulled her into the locker room to talk) & Ana being left to tour the station house with Ravi aka Probie - hello parallels & contrasts, my old friend

“I don’t want these things to wilt” - interesting choice of wording there, Eddie (newsflash, it's already wilting, Eddie)

I almost feel a little bad for Ana here because she did do something nice and she gets the brushoff and some discomfort/embarrassment in return (I mean the woman brought three salads in the middle of a blackout that she most likely made herself, come on - I'm sure some people think salads are easy to make but to those of us in the inexperienced/uninitiated cooks' club, it's not that simple)

Lila dead - hmm...are we surprised? (Hudson didn't give a fig about her and what's sad is Lou would have saved her)

“I think she was smitten like those other fools. I think she saw him being led away in cuffs and she intervened on his behalf” - interesting line there, Athena...

I need more scenes with Athena and Elaine - I know Elaine is the captain and Athena is on her own with no partner but I gotta say I am enjoying this

Athena! Why are you not warning the survivors!!! I mean I get it but still!!!

OMG “He takes Christopher all the time, he’s got the place memorized” - BUCK LISTENED TO EDDIE IN 3x03 - OMG!!!

Oh Buck my poor baby, he knows what they’re walking into - I LOVE Hen’s line of “Just smile, Buck” and then Eddie and Chim both smile wide at him - OMG I AM LIVING FOR THESE SCENES WITH THE 118

“Welcome to the Jungle” - nice touch 911

OMG Buck you are cracking me up - no animals are getting past him

1 hawk or eagle or raptor maybe? I’m not good with bird species okay!!!

3 emus again

1 bird I have no idea what kind (wondering if that’s what we saw the back of last episode near the emus)

Giraffe again

3 wolves

3 camels

Elephant

“The animal makes a move, control it” - YOU GOT THIS BUCK (yes we are finally getting that scene we saw filmed!!!)

Buck’s expression when the camel runs by is KILLING ME 'yeah, that's right Camel, back up, back up, you don't want any of this, yeah that's right'

Stuffed animals in the souvenir store, interesting

2 for $5 sign - even more interesting

1 alpaca

I guess I kind of wonder why Hen didn’t become a vet at one point in her life? Like I’m glad she’s a first responder and about to be a doctor but damn she knows so much about animals, she’s like the 118’s resident animal expert, that’s my girl

“We were gonna get one” - um...what? Hen...

“I wouldn’t” LOL oh Bobby you slay me

Is it just me or do we hear ET almost type music in the background as Hen lays chips down for the alpaca? Bobby mentioning the Reese’s Pieces, the flashlight shining on the Alpaca when it steps into view...are we getting an ET reference?

“It’s calling its friend!” *another Alpaca appears through coats “Clever girl” - a Jurassic Park reference - It’s a fucking Steven Spielberg reference, holy shit!!!!

Okay so that scene was Eddie looking over at Bobby, got it, near the fire trucks

Oh Buck I love you so much “So you ran from an Alpaca?” “Two Alpacas and no one was running” - both Buck’s and Eddie’s faces and then laughter are freaking hilarious

Chimney: “After careful consideration, I have decided not to endorse this park” - OMG I have not stopped laughing for like five minutes straight, can you imagine a Jurassic Park AU for this team? - shot of T-rex above Ripley’s Believe It Or Not (nice one, 911)

Weird looking bird that I've never seen before and 2 emus and 2 vulture, 1 hawk/raptor bird, 1 rhino

May is awesome!!! And so are those neighbors!!!!

Eddie in the tank top!!! Buck with a clipboard!!!

“Hey are you sleeping or just pretending?” Buck is taking no prisoners today

Buck is trying to make sure he’s not having any symptoms, omg, seriously how do you not love this guy???? Eddie you better make an honest man out of him soon, I'm not sure how much longer I can take this

“You don’t give up, do you?” Oh Eddie you did not just say that, to Buck of all people, come on man (hello season 3 Eddie, my old friend)

Get him, Buck! Get him!

“Since when do you panic?” “That’s what I said, I don’t panic” Buck once again out there proving that he knows Eddie better than anyone else

Oh wow!!! Eddie came right out and said it “If I’m being honest with myself I think it was Ana”

And there it is folks “She’s been a constant through all of this, staying with Christopher”

“Somehow we became a ready made family and I don’t know if I’m ready for that” - wow, this is an excellent scene, he’s totally letting that wall down to talk candidly with Buck, nice - and him being stripped down to a tank top for this scene just reiterates that fact, he's baring some things

“I think I’m gonna stick it out. Ana’s the first woman I’ve wanted to spend this much time with since Shannon” - oh Eddie, you really need to shit or get off the pot my friend, this isn’t good for you, Christopher or Ana - how can you sentence all three of you to this? come on

“My kid loves her” but YOU DON'T - okay my heart is breaking, Eddie is making the same goddamn mistake all over again just like we predicted - Eddie please, what did Carla just say to you three episodes ago? Where the hell is Carla btw????

“Stick it out? That’s not the way you talk about someone you’re in love with” “That enough?” - thank you Buck, seriously THANK YOU

Okay my heart just broke again but for Buck this time “Eddie, I have been Ana” - aww =( I love my chaotic firefighter son with all of my heart

And of course Denial!Eddie aka repressed!Eddie are back, sigh - 5x03 has to be where it all comes to a head, it has to be, now even Buck is forcing him to face what he's trying so hard not to - word of advice Eddie, my repressed firefighter son, you can try to deny it mentally/emotionally all you want but it will come out one way or another, just like it's coming out in panic attack symptoms and anxiety - you have to end this, sweetie

And I think it’s very interesting that Eddie looks right at Buck during “If I’m being honest with myself” *looks away then right back at Buck* “I think it was Ana”, “staying with Christopher”, then right after “I don’t know if I’m ready for that”, “I think I’m gonna stick it out”, “Ana’s the first woman I’ve wanted to spend this much time with since Shannon” “My kid loves her”

OMG Eddie’s expression when Buck says “I know what it’s like to be in love with someone who’s not all the way in and deep down you know it and it hurts. It hurts worse than the truth” — RYAN WHERE IS YOUR GODDAMN EMMY??? If anyone ever doubted that Eddie was in love with Buck, there’s the freaking proof written all over Eddie’s face at Buck’s line!!! It’s not something he thinks he can have and it hurts

Okay seriously, Eddie saying “Ana’s the first woman I’ve wanted to spend this much time with Shannon” — VERY PURPOSEFUL MENTION OF A WOMAN HE’S WANTED TO SPEND TIME WITH, EDDIE PLEASE, CAN YOU HEAR ME!!!!

Then they go right to Chim calling Maddie, uh huh, I see you 911

I really love Hen’s full support of Maddie btw & I love how Chim is able to talk to Hen about it all

Oh no!!! Maddie please don’t fall asleep!!!

Oh thank God!!!! It’s going to be okay, Maddie, you got her, it’s going to be okay - I seriously want to give my girl a hug and tell her it's going to be okay

Omg Jee-Yun is so cute!!!

Day 4 or day 5 hmmm - I'm still keeping track, Tim

“Why is it every time the world ends, it ends some more?” “It just keeps us on our toes” “More like knocks us on our asses” - Universe is that you?

Awww Bobby just called Athena “baby” <3 I'm not crying, you're crying

YES more Athena and Elaine

Lou is awake!!!!

Awww Lou =( I may or may not be ugly crying rn

I cannot tell you how relieved I am that Lou is alive

Oh God!!!! Athena get the cops there now!!!!

Yeah you should have let Harry charge them Michael lol, of course they were there to just use the generator power (though I love and appreciate the contrast they gave us in the neighbors who helped the boy with the ventilator so we know not all people take advantage)

OH NO GET AWAY FROM HARRY YOU BASTARD!!!!

On a side note, it’s nice to see more Michael and David but at what cost, Tim? Can we please get more of them and especially David in a more lighthearted episode for crying out loud? Is that too much to ask???

Go Bobby!!!!

Good for you, Athena!!!

Omg this is practically Athena’s nightmare come to life, shit

Omg Hudson unplugged the goddamn generator, THAT FUCKING ASSHOLE!!!

HARRY!!!!!!

I’M SORRY BUT ARE YOU TELLING ME THERE’S NO BOLO WITH A PICTURE ON THIS GUY?!!? - oh right, no power, but STILL

Okay that was super intense, I really hope Athena is the one to take Hudson down, just like Bobby said

I have a few more rewatches to do before breaking things down but damn, I think I need a drink after that one.

#911 fox #911 spoliers #911 5x02 #911: desperate times #buddie mention #eddie and ana mention #bathena mention #911 fox posts

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