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vampirenigh · 10 months

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Bloody morning

Summary: You got your period while cuddling with them at night and stained the sheets.

Characters: Sae Itoshi, Rin Itoshi, Nagi Seishiro, Reo Mikage, Bachira Meguru, Kaiser Michael.

Warnings: Period and maybe some bad words.

Masterlist

Sae Itoshi

You just woke up with your boyfriend's hand over your waist and decided to get up to start the day but as you tried to get up you felt something between your legs and looked down. Immediately when you saw that you got your period you ran to the bathroom to clean yourself. You hoped that Sae was still asleep and that he won't see the red stain.

But in the bedroom Sae was wide awake sience you weren't with him. And before he decided to call your name he saw the stain. He did feel a bit gross. (Because let's be real. He didn't see that in his entire life and at the start it is a bit gross even to girls). But he got up and changed the sheets and put them in the washing machine. After that he got back in bed.

When you got out from the bathroom with some courage to wake Sae up to change the sheets you were very surprised to see that Sae changed them and was looking at you now with his arms open.

"Are you coming back to bed or not? I want to sleep more today." And because of his words you got back in bed and thanked him for what he did. "Don't thank me because I didn't do anything important. I just did what anyone would do. I will go later to get you some snacks. But not now. I'm tired and comfy." And with his words you stayed with Sae in bed till you two got hungry.

Rin Itoshi

Well... He is very blunt... He got up first and seen the stain. He didn't feel gross but still didn't want to put his hands on that red thing. So he started to shake you awake. When you awoke up you started to look at Rin whit sleep still in your system. "You stained the sheets. Go change and clean the bed." In that moment you jumped awake and become very red and ran to the bathroom. You didn't get out till Rin went to his training because of the embarrassment that you felt. So when he left you started to clean up and do some other things while your cramps weren't so bad and then get back in bed to look at a movie.

But on the other side Rin was being a bit distracted in the training. All he could think about was your red face. He didn't want to embarrass you or anything. He just wanted to help you not make a bigger mess that will take longer to clean. And he didn't want to make a mistake so he let you take care of it. Now when he is thinking about it he feel a bit of an asshole at how he made you feel but knew he couldn't do anything about it right now. Maybe when he is done whit training he will buy you your favorite food and some sweets.

And so he did. In the afternoon he got back whit everything and then started searching for you in the house and found you working on a project. He went to you and put the bags on the bed. That's the moment when you realize that he got back and start to be red again when you started to have flashbacks from the morning. Rin saw that and sat next to you and then hugged you. "Don't be embarrassed about it. It's normal. I just didn't want to make a mistake and destroy the sheets even more. So let's forget about it and let's eat what I got you. "

Nagi Seishiro

He was still asleep when you woke up and seen the sheets. And didn't woke up till you went to him and told him to get up. He didn't understand why he had to get up because you didn't tell him and just told him that you had to change the sheets today. It was your luck that you really had to do that that day so he didn't suspect a thing.

He got up and went to the leaving room to play some games while you started to do your thing. You were about to start the washing machine when you remembered that you needed to put something else too. So you got up and went to the bedroom.

While you did all that Nagi got up from the couch and went to the kitchen to get some chips but stopped in his track when he saw the sheets. He realized why you didn't let him sleep more and started to realize why you acted so strange. But he went back to the couch whit his chips and waited for you to finish your work and come to him.

And so you did and sat next to him. "So you aren't going to tell me why you tried to hide the stain?" In that moment your eyes widened. "How..? " "Washing machine. You could've told me you know. It's not like I was gonna judge you. " "Sorry Sei. Next time I won't hide it." "Good. Because it's a bother to need to pester you to tell me something so trivial." You smiled and hug him. He let you and maybe after he got bored he will cuddle with you on the couch.

Reo Mikage

He had a girlfriend before. You can't tell me otherwise. He is rich and popular. So he for sure had a girlfriend and for sure knows what to do when something like this is happening. So you woke up whit gentle kisses all over your face and whit the handsome face of your boyfriend.

"Y/n. You need to get up." That made you confused. Why should you get up? "Come on get up baby." And why was he so persistent? Always you are the one who wants to get up and he doesn't let you? But all your questions were answered when you felt a wet feeling on you hand and you looked down to see the stain. You immediately got up. "I'm so so sorry Reo! I didn't want to stain the sheets! I will clean them I promise. " But he stopped your ramble cupping your face whit his palms. "What in the world are you talking about?! I don't care about that! I can buy another 100 if I want to. What I care about is to get you in a hot bath. I prepared it before I woke you up. I know your cramps must be hurting pretty bad so that might help you. " He then flashed you a smile and lead you to the bath. That got you a bit emotional so you thanket him but he discarded it by saying that he did what any boyfriend would.

While you were in the bathroom he prepared a movie, some of your favorite foods and sweets and waited for you so you can cuddle with him.

And when you saw all that all you could think about was how did you get so lucky to have an amazing boyfriend like him.

Bachira Meguru

This guy is a ball of energy. He can't stay in the same spot for more than 5 minutes if it isn't something related to football or you. So he went to get some groceries to help you out. You were currently on your third day of your circle and you felt a bit nauseous so you were sleeping all morning.

So when Bachira came back and went to wake you up to eat something he saw the sheets.

Before everything else he knows everything about these things. He lived with his mom his entire life. For sure she teached him about how to take care of some stains.

And coming back he woke you up and made you go take a shower and chance. You were about to get out and take care of what you did but were very surprised when you saw that everything was taken care of by Meguru. You were very happy and kissed him on the cheek and made him smile.

He made you stay in bed once again and served you breakfast in bed. "Do not get up till you feel better. The only exception is if you want to go to the bathroom. If you need something from the kitchen tell me. I will go." "Thank you Megu. I love you." "Love you too butterfly."

He started to cuddle you and kiss your entire face to distract your attention from all the suffering that your period caused you.

Kaiser Michael

He didn't know a thing about it. He didn't want to get close to that red thing. For him everything was gross. (Sorry but he would be like this.) So he didn't really get so worked up when he saw the sheets. He looked at himself to see if it got it on him and when he saw that he was alright he shook you awake.

You went directly to the bathroom and them cleaned everything. While you did that Kaiser went out to make some jogging. That's what he did everytime you got your period. He didn't like to get so involved and you understood that. But he wasn't a complete asshole. He went and took some things for you.

But when he got back he was surprised to see you on your knees in front of the toilet after you throwed up. He helped you up and leaded you back in bed. That scared him a bit. This never happened to you. You had some light cramps and that's it. He got a bit worried so he stayed with you the rest of your period taking care of you. He went away only if it was absolutely necessary.

He still was engrossed by the whole blood thing but for you he would be brave and take care even of that. He loves you after all and you are his empress.

He even cancelled his training. That made his friend call him more than 60 times and everytime he got to voicemail. Kaiser didn't care so you didn't too.

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wonder-mei · 3 months

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Together Forever (MK1 Havik)

PS; Not lore accurate to the Mortal Kombat universe, I write because they’re hot.

The foods she made already went cold as they’ve been sitting there for hours. The lady waits for the arrival of her lover,Havik who promised he will be back today in his letter but there is still not a sight of him until dawn. She still sits there since morning believing he will be at their doorstep any minute now, the expectation she’s been having since she awoke at dusk.

She re-reads his letter again ‘I will be back in 3 days, this is a promise. No less or more than those days. The battle is almost over and I can only write this letter for the last time before I go home back to you,my love. I am fine and not hurt at all, do not worry about me. See you in 3 days. I have missed you every second without you by my side. I love you always.

Havik

Today is the third day. She has been excited since yesterday. Cleaning their house,washing every clothes needed and cooking his favorite foods. But where is he? She started to get tired in the chair in the living room. Her eyes haven’t left the front door. Minutes later her eyes closed from exhaustion.

The birds’ chirps awoke her. It’s morning. The 4th day, a day after he promised to be here back home. She walks outside thinking he’ll be in the farm doing the corps. No one is there. She walks to the bathroom. Just cold there. She looks at the foods she made, not a single bit of them were eaten. ‘Maybe the place he is at has heavy rain or even something bad making him no chance to stay there for awhile’ she thinks for her own emotion.

She gave the food to their farm animals not wanting to waste them. Then something caught her eyes, there’s a letter in a basket beside the front door. Did she not see it before? The lady takes it and reads; ‘My love, you have taken well of our house and farm. I am very lucky to have you as my wife. Strong and independent woman. The new dress you are wearing fits you so well complimenting your beauty. I love you’

“Havik?!” she calls out his name looking around their house searching for his sight. He’s not to be seen “Come home,Havik!”

No replies. Just the wind. With a heavy heart she storms back to the house laying down in the bed crying. “Why didn't he come home when he was right here? Did I do something?”,Negative thoughts swam in her mind, making her cry much more. In tears she went to sleep once again with sadness in her heart.

She wakes up hours later feeling hungry. She looks around and no one is in the house beside herself. She went to eat alone and attend their farm. Until night comes, Havik is still not home. She sleeps in sorrow this time.

The next day, the house is still in the same atmosphere; cold and lonely. She walks out from the front door. There’s a letter again in the same basket. She opens it,reading; ‘My love, please don’t cry. It breaks my heart seeing you like this. I am sorry I haven't come home as I promised. I just don’t know how to face you…. I have changed. You won't love me after you see me. I am afraid of losing you. I love you’

What does he mean he changed? Did something go wrong in the mission? That can’t be, he is capable of taking care of himself and heal. So what is he so afraid about?

“Havik,are you hurt?!” She shouts out loud eyes wandering every place around the house “Come home,Havik! I can help you with your wounds!”

Not a single reply.

With the same sorrowful heart, she storms back into the house and sleeps in tears. After she woke up, she didn’t go outside to tend the farm. She isolates herself in the room. She came out the next day, went straight to the front door. A letter again in the basket, ‘Love, I am sorry I hurt you. You didn’t feed the animals yesterday. You must be so hurt by this…. I am sorry. I will apologise to you a million times just for you to feel comfort. I still don’t have the courage for you to see me. I am sorry. I love you’

“Havik come home!” she cries out “Come back to me…”

Again,just silence.

Today, she isolates herself just like before. Eating little food and laying in the bed thinking about Havik wondering why he is still afraid to be seen by her. She’s his wife. Nothing can change her love towards him no matter what. By then, she has an idea.

It was dusk, she lay there quiet under the covers pretending to sleep. The window by the bed creaks open a little. Someone is peeking inside the room and then closes it back. Heavy footsteps walk to the front door stopping there. She slowly walks to the front door and opens the door with a swift. And there he is. Her husband. His back facing her like he was about to leave. She saw him flinch hearing the door open after he laid the letter in the basket again “Havik!” she calls out his name. Tears starts to water down her eyes “Havik, don’t go”

Her heart was heavy looking at his appearance. Havik is a little thinner than before he left for the war. His body becomes more tense as she walks towards him. Her soft hand touches his shoulder “Havik?”, he stand still not turning around “Havik, please i want to see you” she softly asks

Havik slowly turns around. His eyes avoid hers. He covered half of his face with a scarf “Are you hurt?” she reaches the scarf but he stops her “Let me see” her eyes begs him. Havik lets her to uncover his face

He finally looks at her to see her reaction. No sigh of disgust or fear, not the reaction he expected her seeing his new scarred face “Who did this to you?”

“I wasn’t strong enough to avoid the accident”

“Are you in pain?”

She sighs in relief and hugs him tightly “That’s all matter,Havik. I don’t want you to be in pain”

Havik stood there still not knowing what to do. She loves him even though his face is half of his flesh? The thoughts of her leaving him and being scared of him because of new looks was not true. “Are you not scared?”

She looks into his eyes “Never will”

Havik finally returns her embrace. Hugging her tightly, he slowly cries. All those fears of losing her will never happen. Their love for each other is forever even after one of them changed. But love will never change, not a single bit.

“Let’s go home” she holds his hand with the smile he adores so much

“Yes”

#mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat 1 #havik x reader #mortal kombat havik #havik x you

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cowboyfromh3ll · 7 months

Note

Hi!! Your writing is always so wonderful and i was wondering if you’d be up to write something if you still take requests!

I have this whole long and detailed storyline in my head with an oc. I’ll write a short summary about her and if you’d like I would be head over heels if you come up with some sort of scenario!

Basically she’s very masculine presenting, often mistaken for a young man/boy because of it. Hot headed and pretty reckless at times. She’s around Abigail’s age but joined the gang a year or so before. She’s not the brightest in general but every now and then has some surprisingly smart things to say. In general personality wise a mix of Mushy and Rowdy from Rawhide, if you’ve watched the show. I think she’d get along with Sean the most because of her personality. But she’s secretly got the hots for Arthur, she’s pretty decent at hiding it however. Loyal like a dog to him specially, however the feelings she harbours for him will forever be onesided.

IDK IF THIS IS TOO LONG TO READ OR TO DUMB TO COME UP WITH A SCENARIO. BUT LIKE??? Do whatever you want with all this, if it’s even interesting at all. THANKS EITHER WAY🤞🏽😝

My Love Is Not Mine, All Mine

(Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader Angst)

Reader is masc presenting in this, you read the req. Also angst. No comfort lol. Creative freedom is a blessing.

What do you do with a loving feeling if a loving feeling makes you feel all alone. Your heart squeezes. Your stomach tries to cave in on itself. Your body becomes shamefully frail; muscles taut and sore, a perpetual ache plaguing your body. You’d take on the brunt of the day, and feel it collapse on you at night. Your weary knees would carry you through it all, and you could squash a week into a day. You become addicted to the loneliness and desperation, because you do not know what else to do with yourself. It is the most familiar feeling you know, and you have convinced yourself it is your destiny.

But when you wake up Arthur in the morning, and when you wait for him at night, and when you wait for his beck and call so often that you do not have your own freedom, it is comparable to having a dog. You would do anything for him, and he for you, but the passion is interrupted. You were his literal and metaphorical partner in crime, and when one of you would ride, so came along the other to accompany them.

Spending so much time with Arthur reminded you of what it was like to be fulfilled. You were hungry for love, and you longed for Arthur to feed you so full until you could not take it anymore. You wanted to know what it was like. He would fill your bowl, but not lift the spoon to your lips.

You awoke from your dream softly, turning over and away from the light casting down on your face. You wished you could keep dreaming, but when you saw Arthur’s figure standing a few feet away where the stew cooked, you were given a million reasons to stay awake. You hoisted your aching body up onto your elbows, your joints groaning and creaking as a reminder that the previous night had not been kind to you. You’d change out of your chemise into dusty jeans and a cotton button up, shoving your feet into a pair of pointed black boots. They had been your continual choice of foot wear for the past few years. A good pair of boots could be your companion forever. Oh, how you longed for a companion. Soon, the soles would crack and the leather would crease in a thousand more places, but you’d keep wearing them out anyways. You were loyal.

You paced over towards the fire, leaning down to pour yourself a cup of coffee. You’d utter a tired “Morning” to Arthur, flickering your eyes towards him before staring back down at the liquid in your mug. He’d return the gesture as he served himself a stew; it reminded you of how hungry you were. But you could not bring yourself to eat, the butterflies in your stomach would not allow you.

Before long, you’d find yourself naturally gravitating towards Sean (though you were ready to abandon him the moment Arthur called for you).

“How’s my favorite lad—I mean lass doing this fine morning?” Sean’s energy would leave others jaded, but you would come at him with the same level of enthusiasm. He always had a way with his words that kept your spirits high.

“I’m doing just fine! Thank you.” You groaned as you sat, stretching your back and hearing a satisfying crack.

“Sheesh, someone didn’t have a good night’s rest did they?” He would comment mockingly, chuckling to himself when you flipped him off.

“Yeah actually, had another one of those weird, recurring dreams.” You waved your hand dismissively, opting to not want to talk about the topic. But Sean was persistent, and he’d take any bit of entertainment he could get, even from you.

“Well, there’s definitely a cure to your predicament.” He looked at you slyly, bringing his coffee to his lips. You rolled your eyes. You hated the thought of it. Some part inside of you cringed at the thought. Of tearing yourself open in all your glory and allowing Arthur to look inside you, allowing him a chance to try and understand your most tender and sentimental facets. Lord knew he would not allow you the chance, his walls were so thick you were convinced not even he could tear them down.

You looked at your boots in defeat.

“Not happening.” You sighed in frustration.

“Come on! What’s the point of living if ya don’t take risks every now and then?”

Sean did not understand that you did not fear risk, rather, you feared loss of companionship. And you clung to it more dearly than your own life.

“It’s too early to be talking about this!” You spat, an unpredictable aggressiveness in your tone.

“Y’know, for one of the most reckless and straightforward people I know, you sure are shy when it comes to this crush business.” Sean teased you in return, egging on your aggressiveness.

You shushed Sean, condemning him for being so loud. You didn’t want anyone else around camp to know about your feelings for Arthur. Not that you had ever willingly told Sean about them; he more or less figured it out on his own and teased you about it. You allowed Sean to, because you got some sort of satisfaction out of someone acknowledging your feelings. Sean allowed you to blush and giggle about your crush with the likeness of a schoolgirl, and he did not shut you down once. You did not want to hear about how high Arthur’s walls were, or how unavailable he was, or how he preferred ladies as opposed to you. He did not give you any of that, rather, he provided you with encouragement, told you to go for what you wanted. Most importantly, he didn’t turn your business into gossip.

You appreciated the gestures, but you could not find it in you to go for it. You were a great gunslinger, you did amazing in heists, you had an affinity for sniffing out leads, you ran into things headfirst; action first and think later you told yourself. But when it came to this, you second guessed everything you did. You never made your feelings obvious, you hid them well. But in terms of your loyalty to Arthur, that said everything for you.

Eventually, Arthur approached you, asked you to ride with him. Naturally, you followed suit, bidding Sean goodbye as he playfully raised his brows at you.

“Where we headed?”

“Into town, I got a letter from someone asking for help.” His explanation was brief, but you knew perhaps what this meant. Your stomach tied up into knots and squeezed, and you suddenly felt your body become heavy with each of your movements.

“I see, but why do you want me to go along…?” There was a tinge of hope in your voice; what you were hoping, you did not know.

“Just in case something happens and I might need you.”

You nodded.

“And, we always ride together anyways.” He added.

You did not expect that, but you felt your chest swell with pride, and you turned your head to hide the inescapable smile. You nodded in acknowledgement, the words echoing in your head.

Your ride towards Saint Denis was quiet. Which was unusual. You would usually talk up a storm, and Arthur would happily entertain it. But this ride was different. The only sounds accompanying your ride was the drumming of hooves on red earth, as well as the metallic gallop of a far off train. You noticed Arthur was rigid, stiff, yet fidgety. You almost felt bad for being in a good mood from his words, but the heaviness between you spread when you remembered where you were heading.

Eventually drumming turned into clopping, as dirt roads turned into stone paved streets. The unwelcoming miasma of Saint Denis had you wheezing, fanning the air ahead of you. It felt as though even in open air, you could not suck in a deep breath. As the two of you approached your destination, Arthur seemed restless. You noticed the way he would tighten and then untighten his fists, and as the two of you dismounted your horses, he kept fiddling with his collar and hair.

“Need help there?” You offered, giggling at his particularness.

“Yes, I would appreciate that very much.” He laughed dryly, his attempts at calming his nerves with humor were in vain. You stepped forward and adjusted his collar, and even if brief, you felt his heart hammering at his chest. You bit the inside of your cheek to sustain another smile (you wondered if you had to do something with it?). You took his hat off his head, fixing his hair for him. A few passer bys looked on at the vaguely intimate scene with prying eyes, perhaps they found it strange how a “man” was so close to and helping another man. Yet perhaps, you were more man than woman. You dressed like a man, carried yourself like one, did things that only men could do, you drank like one, talked like one—.

“How do I look?” He asked, before curling his lips in a nearby window, checking his reflection. You giggled.

“Lovely.” You commented. You scratched at the skin on your arm, letting your nails dig in a little deeper.

“Thank you.” He looked back at you, a wavering confidence in him. Wordlessly, he motioned for you to follow him, and you did, walking by his side. Arthur studied the buildings, trying to find the location to which he was summoned to.

“Arthur! Up here!” A voice called out.

The two of you looked up, and upon seeing Mary Linton, your suspicions were confirmed. You had to will away the pressure that built up in your face, your throat becoming unbearably dry.

Arthur smiled and nodded at her.

“You came! And you brought your…” Mary looked at you, studying your face as if she would find an answer there. “Friend!” She finished.

You nodded at Mary, hands behind your back.

“Pleasure to meet you Miss, I’m (Name.)” The pitch in your voice gave her the answer she sought.

The prospect of Arthur having never told Mary about you stung. Perhaps something you’d bring up later.

“Hold on a minute, I’ll be down!” She called out, before disappearing into the hotel. Moments later, she appeared before the both of you. She and Arthur seemed to devolve into hushed conversation, to which you had no choice but to awkwardly stand there. Arthur had shared more intimate details of his life with you before, but to be witnessing one had you rigid. You did not know whether to breathe a sigh of relief or to sob out in fear when Arthur politely asked you for a moment of privacy with Mary.

Perhaps you should’ve said no to coming along as soon as Arthur told you what this was about. You pondered this as you walked down the wet stone sidewalk, looking up at the sky rather than at the floor. You stopped eventually, and stared.

You thought back to the time you had gotten into a bar fight with a man in Rhodes, and Arthur practically had to peel you off the poor bastard as you beat his face blue. You remembered the lecture he gave you for acting so reckless and impulsively. You told him the man deserved it for shoulder checking you, which only made Arthur chastise you more.

The truth was, he’d made a sly remark about Arthur.

You were pulled out of your train of thought when you heard hasty footsteps behind you. Normally you would’ve prepared for the worst, but you knew those footsteps well. They were Arthur’s, of course.

You turned around in excitement, ready to greet him, ask him how things went. But your face dropped, your eyes nearly popping out your skull when you saw his forlorn expression. Was he— blinking away tears?

“Uhm… You okay?” You asked hesitantly. You reached out a shaky hand to his shoulder, stuttering in your movements out of uncertainty, before you set it down fully. He allowed the touch. Arthur cleared his throat, bringing his fingers together to pinch his bridge, but not before wiping the seams of his eyes with his finger and thumb.

“Yes, sweetheart, I’m fine.”

The way he called you sweetheart was bittersweet; it stung so good. You could almost taste it; you licked your lips.

“What happened?” You asked, moving forward to try and look him in the eyes. You placed both your hands on his shoulders now. You swore you saw more tears well up in his eyes when you asked, which he blinked away.

“Mary asked me for help, again.”

“Oh.” That was all you could say.

“I turned her down.”

“Oh.”

“It’s fine though, it’s just…I didn't think I should, after all that’s happened.”

You nodded in understanding. He looked deeply hurt by his decision, and it was one you were not sure you could help comfort him over without hurting yourself. The two of you stood there silently for a moment.

"I'm a bad man, aren't I, (Name)." His voice wavered. He looked up at you with sadness in his eyes, and it felt like barbed wires were being tightened over your throat and heart when he said that. It stung to see Arthur speak so lowly of himself.

"No Arthur, of course not… you're one of the best men I know…"

He chuckled sadly. "Thank you, but I'm a no good fool, who doesn't know what he wants."

You took notice of the people who walked around your heartfelt moment, like a river parting for a rock. You knew of Arthur's issues with self esteem, and you knew that no matter what you said, he would not take it to heart.

Another moment of silence— until Arthur walked past you towards where your horses were waiting. In a moment of impulsivity, you gripped his forearm, stopping him in his tracks.

He looked at you in surprise, first at where you grabbed him, then at you.

"I… I..."

You began, but the words did not seem to come out. Your grip on his arm was tight, tightening slightly when you became keenly aware of the rising tension. But he did not look at you with impatience, never. Rather, concern. As the seconds passed, you tried to find the right words to say, but it did not happen.

"I'm sorry…" You felt the familiar feeling of your throat tightening up and running dry. He managed a half hearted smile before patting your hand. You felt his palm smooth over your knuckles, before you both let go.

"It's okay, let's go get a drink somewhere. I think we both need it."

'I think we both need it' You would ponder his choice of words. You felt your body become heavy, and any movement felt like you were dragging your limbs across the stone floor. Wearily and wordlessly, you followed.

You did not know what to do with all the love you had for him. You did not know where to put it.

My Love Mine All Mine - Mitski

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead fandom #red dead redemption 2 x reader #red dead redemption community #van der linde gang x reader #writing #red dead fanfiction #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x reader angst #angst #red dead redemption angst #read dead redemption fanfiction #red dead redemption 2 fanfiction #mary gillis linton

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dearestro · 9 days

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Saturday Mornings

Summary: Even lazy mornings can be exciting...for some people. Part of the Chase Miniseries.

Warnings: Innuendos and crude language.

You squinted your eyes at the sudden stream of light as you awoke from your slumber. Your husband buried his face in the crook of your neck with his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. It was early Saturday morning, so everyone got to sleep in. Of course, you felt that Robert had other plans than sleeping this morning as he not only kissed your neck but you could also feel something prodding your thigh. You rolled over to face him as he started nipping at your skin.

"Really?" You raised a brow as his hands crept up your body.

"Come on." He almost whined. "Layla's not up. We have time..." He murmured against your skin. "And how else am I supposed to deal with this?" He said, his body flush against yours so that you could feel exactly what he was talking about.

"Well, you have a hand, don't you?" You teased as he continued to trail his lips all over your skin. You looked at the clock before sighing. "I suppose we have time-" You were cut off as a squeal escaped your lips when he rolled on top of you but were quickly quieted when he pressed his lips to yours. As hands trailed bodies and mouths fought for dominance, you were suddenly interrupted.

"Mommy? Daddy? What are you doing?" You froze at the little girl's voice, thankful you both were still clothed...although boxers and modest lingerie wasn't the greatest to be caught in...

"We're-we're-" You struggled to find an excuse not wanting to have 'the talk' with a five year old.

"We're wrestling, sweetheart. Daddy's winning." You rolled your eyes at your husband's excuse before turning back to your daughter.

"Why don't you go downstairs? I'll be down in a minute to get breakfast, baby." She nodded before pattering to the kitchen. You went to get up as soon as she was out of sight, but someone had other plans. "Babe, we can't do this now. I have to get up and get her breakfast before she comes up here again."

"I can be quick!" Your husband whined.

"Oh, I know just how quick you can be, but even that's not quick enough for a hungry toddler." You chuckled as he frowned at the jab before getting off of you.

"Well, what am I supposed to do with..." He motioned to his nether regions as you leaned down to kiss his cheek.

"Take a cold shower and pray she doesn't remember this moment when she's old enough to realize what 'wrestling' actually means." You went into the closet to put on a robe and some slippers before coming back out. "Or do it yourself." You shrugged as you turned to leave. "But not on the bed!" You shouted over your shoulder, not wanting to have to do laundry because your husband couldn't be bothered to do it into the toilet.

You made your way to the kitchen and found Layla sitting patiently at the table.

"Fruit?" She nodded her head as you got her a little bowl (no strawberries as they had been restricted to special occasions only after the last incident) and some juice as she waited. By the time you were finished and had given the food to the little girl, Robert had joined your side.

"Who won?" Layla asked, finally breaking the silence. Robert looked down at the little girl confusion spread across his features.

"What?" The girl giggled at her dad's confusion.

"When wrestling!"

"I did!" You said as you smirked at your husband before bending down to your daughter and mock whispering, "Daddy's not a very good wrestler." She laughed at the 'secret' you had just told her. From behind, you could hear him scoff.

"Please. I'm an excellent wrestler. I demand a rematch!" You smiled before wrapping your arms around his neck and pecking his lips.

"Sure you are, baby." You mocked his pouting.

"Well, if the two of you are only gonna make fun of me, I guess I won't make pancakes." You frowned, letting go of him.

"Noo!" Your daughter whined.

"Not until I get an apology." Robert said as he crossed his arms and turned his back to the girls.

"Sorry, Daddy!" He didn't budge, so you sighed and came up behind him. Your arms wrapped around his waist.

"Sorry, Daddy." His face went red at the innocent sentence, and you felt a slight lift in his pants.

"Say that again." He whispered so your daughter wouldn't hear. You smirked as you walked in front of him and put your lips near his ear. You could hear his breath catch and see the tent in his shorts rise.

"No." You whispered into the shell of his ear. You kissed his cheek and started to back away as you looked down at the sight before you and smirked. "Take care of yourself...again. I'll make the pancakes. And don't forget to wash your hands!" You said, making sure to keep things out of the toddler's sight and earshot. He groaned before awkwardly shuffling away.

"Alright then, babygirl! Do you want blueberries in your pancakes?" You turned to see your daughter just about finished with her fruit and juice. She nodded eagerly. "Well, coming right up!"

#fanfiction #fanfic #house md #house md fanfiction #dr chase x you #dr chase x reader #dr chase #robert chase fanfiction #robert chase #robert chase x you #robert chase x reader #robert chase miniseries

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mxiaogod · 2 years

Text

— 05. [OCEANUS] BEIDOU X FEM! AFAB READER

Warnings : Slight exhibitionism, use of dildo, vaginal penetration, oral, NSFW (DNI IF YOU'RE UNDER 18+)

— You'd just finished a fancy dinner with your family, finally introducing your fiancée, Beidou, it'd been a long time coming, it wasn't an issue to your family that you're bound to marry a woman, in fact, they were proud of it, Beidou was well off and a very admirable woman, she's loaded all because of a dubious job, all though you didn't really bother, you were apprehensive for her safety.

You had to fly on Beidou's private jet since your home town was in another country far away from Tel Aviv, where you and Beidou had decided to settle down, you loved your life there, being spoilt with lavish things and a good fucking almost every night, you were only staying home and being a good little house wife for Beidou, she had given you an option if you wanted to work, saying you had the freedom to do so but it wasn't needed, Beidou has plenty for even your third child to spend their entire lives.

After dinner, you both went home to your family's villa, where nearly half of your blood line was present, the great daughter of your parents finally being married off to, they were ecstatic for you, Beidou was enjoying your family's company, your father even initiating a drinking session with her, inviting men from your family, gathering around in a circle with guitars playing and jamming to random songs. You were relieved that Beidou was content; it had been a long time since she had decided to let loose, and you had to coerce her into it, wanting her to take a break from her demanding job.

You had just finished a conversation with your mother and aunties, which ended with your mother crying because she was afraid to let go of her daughter, you gave her a laugh and hugged her, saying you were tired and heading up to your bedroom where you and your fiancée will be staying, you took a shower, changing into a maroon Victoria secret night gown, the lacy hem reaching just below your ass, and applying lotion all over your body and heading to bed, you were tired from all the social interaction that you drifted off easily.

You awoke with someone shaking your body, you groan as you open one eye, assessing Beidou's brown hair falling over your face as she gives you a shit eating grin, you place a hand to your chest, shocked by the sudden jump scare, "Oh my god, love, what are you doing? it's three in the morning," you said as you sat up, looking at the clock and rubbing your eyes.

Beidou was out of her blazer, only wearing her pants and her maroon lace bralette, she shifted onto the bed, folding her body and hugging your waist, you kept your squeal in, she looked so adorable and peaceful, you heard her say muffled words, "What was that?" She finally looks up at you, a drunk blush littered across her tanned cheeks, "I'm really hungry." She says as she returns to nuzzle her face to your stomach, you chuckle as you asked her to come with you downstairs so you can fix her food.

You went downstairs with Beidou, she sits idle on the kitchen counter while you fix her pasta, you felt warm hands wrap around your waist as Beidou nuzzles her face into your neck, you give her a peck on the cheek, "I'm not hungry anymore," she said, "What about this pasta then? Come on, I know you're hungry-"

"I am, but not for pasta," she said, quickly turning off the stove as she moved you to the counter, carrying your weight by your waist as she sat you on the cold kitchen island, you gasping at the sensation of coldness and Beidou's warm hands roaming your thighs, "I know something that's far more fucking delicious than pasta." She said, her eyes darkening as she nips at your neck, to your breasts that's covered with a light cotton fabric.

"Beidou not- not here please! someone could walk in anytime-ugh!" You moan, throwing your head back as you feel something hard grind against your core, is this woman serious? she had a strap on this whole time!

"Ah! feel s' good!" You moan silently, grinding harder on Beidou's strap, she smirks at your neck, holding your hips down to prevent you from going further, you give her a whine as she chuckles on your desperation, "What do you want? tell me." you turn your head away, shying away, you couldn't utter those words! especially if a family member might hear you, it'd be so embarrassing, you try to pry your hips away, longing for friction, Beidou's hand stayed put, keeping your hips in place, you stare up at the woman, knitting your eyebrows together and biting your lower lip, hoping the pleading action will suffice.

"That won't work pretty girl, I need you to say it." She exclaims, her chest rising and falling due to the thrill you were giving her.

"Please, love I need it so bad." You whisper quietly beside her ears, your hot breath ghosting the shell of her ears, she bites her lips, closing her eyes tightly to regain her composure.

"Need what huh? I give you everything my darling, what more exactly do you want?" She asked, a teasing glint in her eyes as the side of her lips rose into a sexy smirk.

"Fuck please, I need- need your cock inside me please-" You whine, whispering lightly beside her ears, giving a hot wet kiss on the shell of it, you feel her shivers as a triumphant grin settles in your lips. "Please fuck me hard." You whisper, giving her the last straw as she abruptly rips the thin string connecting your panties together, you gave her a look that says "That pair was expensive!", she gave you a light chuckle, "I'll buy you another pair, or two." She said, you unbutton her pants, sliding it down to her wide hips as your met with the plastic cock that's far way too big to fit in you, you release a sarcastic laugh.

"Funny joke Beidou, real funny," You said as you lift your body up with your arms to jump off the counter, not until Beidou interrupted you.

"Where do you think you're going? You're taking this." She said, carrying you by your underarm as she places you back on the counter, "Come on, love you know that won't fit! It'll hurt so much." You frown, your eyebrows knitting together as a pout settles on your lips, you looked like you were in deep thought, Beidou laughs heartily, rubbing away the crease between your eyebrows with the pads of her thumb, "That's why my mouth is here, is it?" She says, that familiar shit eating grin on her stupid sexy face again.

You playfully smack her chest as she grabs your lips with hers, filling your mouth with her lingering tongue, exploring every nook of your mouth, you gasp into hers, the vibration disorienting her. She leaves a path of love bites down your neck, chest, and thighs. She nestles herself between your thighs, nibbling and sucking, you were looking forward to the marks tomorrow morning, your cheeks flushed as you drape your forearm over your eyes, puffing and heaving like a miserable slut.

You finally feel Beidou's hot tongue trailing down your slit, collecting the slick that had pooled in your needy pussy, you arch your back as you grab onto her hair, the gold clip holding her half up half down hairstyle falling into the tiles, making a loud clink sound, you clamp your hand to your mouth as you hear the thump of slippers, trailing towards where you two were, you try your hardest to pry Beidou off, she smiles into your pussy as she kept eating you out, your breath comes out staggered, as the feeling of thrill settles in your veins, you could feel you were close, you pushed Beidou's head away from your cunt, but she locks her arms around your thighs, pressing her face closer into your cunt.

You close your eyes shut, biting your lip till it drew blood. You hear the steps dissipating, sounding more and more distant until it's quiet once more, you release a heavy breath.

"Fuck-fuck you! you shouldn't have done that, stupid! someone couldn't have seen us!" You whisper shouted.

"But we didn't, did we not?" She smirks, letting out an annoying chuckle, you feel her slap the tip of her strap onto your clit, you jolt away from the sensitivity.

"Such a sensitive pussy, all mine hmm?" She asks, you nod eagerly as you pry your legs open, she chuckles at your pathetic attempt, legs shaking as you wait for her to push her cock into your needy cunt.

She teases your wet hole with the tip of her cock, pushing in but only a little bit, you bite your lips, closing your eyes as you held onto her shoulders, pushing your hips in, deep.

Beidou's eyes widened, as instinct, placing her palms to your mouth to muffle your strident moan, "Oh my fucking god, baby, what are you doing to me?" She mutters lowly, staring at where you two were connected. The strap bulging against your tummy, "Am I up to here?" She asks as she presses on it, you let out a mewl, urging her to go faster.

She places both her hands on either side of you, steadying herself, thrusting at a fast and even phase, you struggled to keep your tiny moans in as you hear Beidou grunt quietly, she keeps trusting in and out of you as you feel your orgasm invade your senses, mouth silently widening open, tears rolling down your cheeks, back arched as you attempt to catch your breath. She thrusts in even after you come, the strap reaching places you couldn't reach with your fingers, so deep like the ocean, oceanus.

She slows down, admiring your come on her strap, slapping the tip once more as you jolt, you try hit her in the chest again but she grabs your fist before you could.

"Let's go to bed, I love you, I can't wait to make you my wife.

#beidou #beidou smut #beidou x reader #beidou x you #genshin impact smut #genshin impact #sapphic #Art by @/twee_teez #on reddit!

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handspunyarns · 1 year

Text

You Were Marked: Day Three.

pairing: din djarin x fem!O/C

word count: 6.6k

summary: The Dahls rise to mate.

warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI! , Mando'a and English cursing, unprotected PiV sexual situations, non-con sexual situations

You Were Marked: Masterlist

<-You Were Marked: Previous Chapter

Din awoke the next morning the same way he had the previous morning: flat on his back, floating in a fragrant cloud of herbs and dried flowers. He slowly opened his eyes to see golden diffused sunlight streaming in angles across the dark curtains that surrounded him. A light breeze luffed the fabric panels, revealing triangles of bright sunshine. He felt warm from a deep, dreamless sleep that was restful rather than restless. He heard the clatter of a metal pot lid, the hiss of meat hitting a hot pan. He sat up, rolling his left shoulder that was always stiff upon waking up, the shoulder that would always make a hard click noise when he moved it. He tilted his head to the left side, then to the right, relishing the series of cracks his spine made, realizing that his usually sore back did not hurt at all this fine morning. Rolling to his feet, he parted the curtains, and looked down to see the carcass of a partially eviscerated dead furry animal of some sort on the floor.

Well, good morning to you too, he thought. He looked over to the fire to see Marathel cooking with her usual brisk efficiency. Grogu sat on the table, playing with what appeared to be some smooth stones. His gaze returned to the dead critter. “So . . . What happened here?”

Marathel took a quick glance over her shoulder. “The Dahls brought you a gift.”

“This is their idea of a gift?”

“There were actually three of them. I’ve already got two skinned and gutted, but I thought you’d like to at least see one of them.”

Din nudged the carcass with the toe of his boot. “What was this thing?”

“A gochgoch.”

“Well, that tells me nothing.”

Marathel shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you, other than that’s the noise they make, and they’re not good for much other than dried meat.” Din picked up the carcass between his thumb and forefinger, bringing it over to Marathel. He laid it on a wooden board on the counter where she had processed the other two critters. “You should feel very privileged. Dahls are not known for sharing food. You must have impressed them much.”

“I’m sure that has more to do with Grogu than it has to do with me.”

“Perhaps, perhaps not. He is easy to love. You, however . . .” She left the thought unfinished and went back to her cooking pots. “Are you hungry?”

“Not especially.”

“Gochgoch guts too much for you?”

“No,” Din said, turning to the table. “I just feel that I am being too idle and eating too much.” He stacked three of the stones for Grogu to knock over. Grogu squealed. “Grogu, on the other hand . . . I sometimes worry that he does not have time to play. To be a child.”

Marathel looked over her shoulder to see Din stroking the child’s ear. Grogu purred with contentment, gazing up at his foster father. The sight tugged at her heart, reminding her that her own childhood was far different. A thought occurred to her. “Have you taught him how to fish?”

“Fish? Not yet.” Din hadn’t gone fishing in years. The idea was tempting.

“The boys here learn to fish and hunt. I sometimes fish myself, but I don’t often have time.” She rummaged around in her stack of baskets until she found her lengths of dry line and hooks. Within a few minutes, she had packed a bag with the fishing gear, some food, a jar of water, and a blanket. “This should work. If you keep going past the necessary, you will see a path. Follow that past my vegetable garden, and it will go down towards the sea. There is a river that feeds into it. There are tidal flats that Grogu will enjoy running on.”

Din reached for the bag. Their fingertips touched. Time stopped for a moment. Din recovered first, taking the bag from her. “Bait?”

“I put some gochgoch meat in there. It should be enough for you to catch some bait.”

“What will we be catching?”

“At this time of day? Probably just bait.” Marathel shrugged with a smirk. “Do you have a knife in that basket of weapons?”

Din wasn’t going to tell her he had a knife in his boot. Possibly two. “I have a knife.”

“Then you’re set. I must tend the garden, but I will come down later to make sure you don’t get dragged away by the Great Godynferth.”

Din tilted his helmet. “I assume there’s a story there.”

“Maybe you’ll get to hear it. If you’re lucky.”

Din and Grogu followed Marathel’s directions and found the tidal flats that she described. It seemed to be an ancient lava field that had flowed from the mountain where the Mist originated. The tide had gone out, leaving the tidal flats empty, save for the occasional low wave that spread out over the rocks. The river was a sizeable one that fed into the sea. Din talked Grogu through the process of tying a hook to the line, and how to bait it before casting the line into the river. After a few false starts – Grogu had thrown the entire line into the shallows a few times – Grogu toddled through the shallow water, dragging the line behind him, enticing small fish to nip on the gochgoch bait. Din found a long reed to use as a pole, cutting a slice to thread the line through the end, wrapping the line down the pole so that he could feel with his fingers if there were a bite on his line. Marathel was correct: they only caught the kind of fish that was good as bait. Grogu, of course, preferred to eat the fish, instead of allowing Din to cut them up. Then Grogu realized he could just levitate the little fish out of the water using the Force, abandoning the fishing line altogether. Din lost count of how many times he said put it down, Grogu as Grogu happily splashed in the water, surrounded by little flying fish. He eventually gave up and removed Grogu’s robe and pants so he could play unencumbered. Din set his pole between two rocks beside him, in case he got a bite – and settled back against a large boulder to watch Grogu scamper over the tidal flats. The child brought Din little treasures: some pretty shells, a crab, a curled piece of driftwood. Din traded these for the bits of dried fruit and meat Marathel had packed for them and arranged the shells and driftwood on a large flat stone next to him, allowing the crab to scuttle away.

It was sometime later when he felt the ping of a small stone hitting the top of his helmet. “Wake up, Bounty Hunter.”

“Wasn’t sleeping.” This was technically true. Resting his eyes was not sleeping.

Marathel came up beside him. She had a light wrap around her head and neck to keep the sun off her, and she carried a large basket of vegetables in one arm and a wooden rake over her shoulder. She looked out at Grogu. “Well, if that isn’t the cutest little bare green bottom I’ve ever seen.” She set down her load and sat down next to Din, stretching out her legs and crossing her dirty feet in front of her. “What did you catch?”

“Bait.”

“Unfortunately, there’s not much on this side of the Hold. They fish on the far side of the Hold, away from here. Big fish over there.” She found the clay jar of water and took a long drink from it. “Your armor must keep you terribly warm.”

Din shrugged. “The sun is always shining when you’re wearing a metal helmet,” he said sagely.

Marathel burst out laughing, finishing with a most unladylike snort that caused Grogu to turn to her. Upon seeing her, he ran towards her, giggling. He leapt into her lap for hugs, which Marathel was more than happy to give. She picked out a large orange berry-looking fruit from her basket and tore it in half, giving a piece to Grogu. Grogu relinquished the clam shell he had been playing with, took the fruit, and toddled back to the tide flat. Watching him go, she bit into her half of the fruit, juice dribbling down her chin. Din gazed at her while she wiped her chin with her sleeve. “How ever did such a charming child end up with the likes of you?”

Din turned his eyes back to Grogu. “He was a bounty. Some . . . very bad people wanted to cause him harm. I kept him with me instead of turning him over to the bad people.”

Marathel frowned, trying to think of the words. “It was good of you to keep him safe, even though I do not understand what a bounty is, or why you hunt them.”

“I do it for the money. It pays well enough.” He didn’t feel the need to discuss how dangerous it was.

“Money? I don’t understand.”

Din was not surprised in the least that she didn’t know what money was. “When I find people, I receive a reward.”

“So,a bounty has . . . worth?” Din nodded. “And when you bring me to the Hold, with the eggs . . . you will receive a reward?” He nodded again. “What is my worth?”

Din was silent for a moment. “I was offered 167 Ossum Aurodium coins for you.”

“Is that a lot?”

“If they are in fact Aurodium, from Ossum, minted into coins, that would be worth an exceptional lot.” Marathel looked down to her hands, dirty from digging in the dirt. She slipped them into her sleeves. The fact that The Bishop would offer a stranger from another planet what was apparently something so valuable for her . . . it added another layer of dread to her thoughts. So much for the thin thread of hope that The Bishop would forget that she existed. Her eyes drifted closed in despair. “What I don’t understand, though,” continued Din, “is . . . why . . . there would be Aurodium coins here.” Marathel’s eyes flashed open. That was not what she expected him to wonder about. “It doesn’t make sense that this self-sustaining Hold you have here would have anything like Aurodium to trade or offer. You know nothing about the history of your planet, right? How your people got here?”

Marathel looked down to her knees. “No. Nothing. The Hold has always been there. The Elders have always been there.”

Din was tapping his finger in irritation on one of the shells next to him. “The Elders.” He turned to her. “Were you . . . betrothed to this Bishop? Why is it so important that you go back to him?”

Marathel opened her mouth to answer, but then closed it again. After a long time, she said, “I was . . . supposed to be a Whyn, but when Diwhyn Olba realized I could hear the Dahls when no one else could, she knew it was . . . safer for me to be out of the Hold.”

“That also doesn’t make sense. And what is a Whyn? There’s something more to it than just a girl who has grown up, isn’t there?” Marathel lifted her head, but then her attention was suddenly and completely stolen from Din’s words. He noticed that she was no longer listening to him but was focused on Grogu in amazement. He looked over to see Grogu levitating a tentacled creature, larger than he was, over his head. The creature was slowly twirling like a gyroscope.

“Frith in heaven,” she breathed. “What . . . How . . .”

Din sighed. “Yeah, he does that too.”

“He can . . . heal, and he can . . . lift things?”

“Grogu has powers with the Force. His people were Jedi.”

Marathel frowned. “Magic, then?”

Din tilted his head. “Well, no, not magic at all. The Force is . . . an energy that flows through the universe, and certain people, they can . . . harness and use it. I don’t understand it much myself.”

“That must make your life interesting.”

After a moment, Din answered, “It is an adventure.”

They sat quietly for a long time. Din wanted to keep asking her questions, but when he turned to look at her, he saw such sadness in her face that he remained silent. She drew her legs under her to stand. “We should go, so that we are not caught out in the darkness. The Dahls are restless, and when they’re restless . . . they can be dangerous.” She walked out to collect Grogu, removing her headscarf to wrap around the little green body. Din pocketed the shells and driftwood and collected Marathel’s basket and rake. She raised her head to look at him, standing on one hip, holding her basket like it weighed nothing, the rake over his shoulder, armor reflecting the sunlight. She felt a hitch in her heart, and then chided herself for thinking foolish thoughts. If only the straight-line path of her life could go in a different direction. She may be currently sidetracked, living Holdless as she was, but her future loomed larger as she heard the Dahls louder and louder in her head. Tired, Grogu’s head clonked against her shoulder. She pressed her cheek to his, and a single tear dropped from her eye to land on his petal-soft ear. Grogu lifted a tiny hand to her mouth, which she kissed, and felt better.

It took a while to walk back. Marathel seemed to get more distracted as they walked along. She kept slowing her pace to gaze out over the distance. Sometimes she just stopped walking to close her eyes and take deep breaths. Din frowned at her under his helmet. Had he managed to upset her with his questions? Was she falling ill, or experiencing some after-effects from the Mist? He finally ended up walking ahead of her, depositing the heavy basket of vegetables in the kitchen, replacing the rake, and then meeting her back at the steps to collect Grogu. He took Grogu from her, headscarf and all, accidentally taking hold of her tunic as well. He muttered “Sorry,” under his breath, but then kept out a hand for her to assist her up the steps, which surprised her. Surely, he didn’t think I needed help to go up three steps? she thought. Still, she took his gloved hand, and he did give a slight pull on her as she ascended into the hut. Dropping her hand, Din unwound the wrap from Grogu. “He really should have a bath,” he said. “Is it all right if I bathe Grogu in the sink?”

Marathel nodded. “Of course.” She set about adding hot water to the reservoir, finding towels, bringing the jar of soap off its shelf. She noticed that Din kept his gloves on to bathe the child rather than remove them in her presence. As she chopped vegetables for dinner, she stole glances over to the sink on the other side of the hob, smiling as Din created stand-up curls of soapy hair on the green child’s head. “You are a good parent to him, Bounty Hunter.”

Din considered that high praise, coming from her. “I try.” He poured a cup of water over Grogu’s head. He didn't know why it was so easy to speak to this woman, but being around her loosened his tongue. “I wish my own parents had lived longer, so that I could have learned more about how to parent from them.”

Marathel was immediately saddened. “You lost your parents when you were young? I am so sorry.”

Din lifted Grogu out onto a fluffy towel. “A foundling raising a foundling seems appropriate. You probably got to grow up with your family in the Hold.”

Marathel put her knife down. “I actually don’t know who my mother is.” Din paused in his drying of Grogu to look at her. “All the children are raised together in the Hold. All the Whyns who give birth raise all the children together. There are no families.”

This struck Din as incredibly sad. In the covert, although the children were also all raised together as a village, each child who had parents in the covert knew who they were and lived in their family units. Even the foundlings had the fortune of being apprenticed to an adult Mandalorian who served as a foster parent. “Diwhyn Olba was not your mother?”

Marathel moved on to slicing meat. “She might have been. If she was, I never knew. She did not tell me.”

“What of your father?”

Marathel stood still for a moment. “I know who my father is, yes.” Her tone indicated to Din that she would not continue on this subject, and she returned to her slicing. Din went back to drying Grogu. Then he heard Marathel hiss, “Oh, for the love of Frith!” Din looked over to see that Marathel had cut her fingertip quite badly. He took a step towards her. “I’m fine!” she snapped, sticking her finger in her mouth. Din did not offer to help her again and dressed Grogu in clean clothes. She wrapped her finger with a bit of towel and began slamming things in the kitchen in irritation. She couldn’t find the herbs she wanted; the meat cooked unevenly; the pot of grains boiled over. Din stayed silent, entertaining Grogu on the steps, giving her wide berth. She finally served the dinner, and Din fed Grogu on the steps. Grogu seemed to be happy about what she had made, but then he would eat anything that would remotely be food. Din set the child down to run around the yard, and he brought the dish back to the kitchen. He saw Marathel sitting on the bench closest to the fire, her back to him, elbows on her knees, her face in her hands. He didn’t want to raise her ire, so he placed the dish in the sink without a word, the clunks of his boots making his presence known. Marathel sat up and sighed. “Forgive me. I am . . . cranky.”

“Naas baatir.”

“And that means . . .?”

“’It is nothing.’”

“At any rate, thank you.”

“Naas baatir.”

She softly snickered at that and got up to make their late afternoon tea. His with a saucer, hers without. Din was already at his usual place on the steps; Marathel placed the tea at his hip and sat at her usual place on the other end of the steps. The late afternoon shadows were already creeping across the yard. Marathel held her mug in both hands, hunched over, her elbows on her knees. Her head was bobbing slightly as if she were hearing a staccato drumbeat in her head. Din watched her out of the corner of his eye as her thumbs began tapping on the edge of her mug. This went on for some time. He finally turned his head to ask what the shab was wrong with her, but she must have noticed his movement, as she turned her head and snapped, “It is . . . It is naas . . .Naas . . .”

“Naas baatir.”

“Naas baatir. As you say.” Marathel put her mug down on the step -- a bit harder than she had intended -- and pushed herself into a standing position. She ran her hands roughly through her hair, piling it up on top of her head with her hands, then letting it fall. She closed her eyes and took a deep calming breath, before walking out to Grogu in the yard. Calmer now, she sat next to Grogu and began to weave the pile of flowers he had picked into crowns and necklaces, all of which she draped over him. By the time she was done, Grogu was twice his size, the floral crowns piled high on his head, bracelets from his shoulders to his hands, and so many necklaces only his eyes were visible above them. Grogu happily trotted off to show Din, who laughed, stood up and then bent into a deep and formal bow, proclaiming, “Your Majesty!” Marathel laughed too as Din picked up Grogu and held him high above his head, flowers falling and bouncing off his helmet. Din lowered the boy and tucked him into the crook of his arm. Marathel sat where she was, elbows wrapped around her knees, watching the armored man interact with tiny green child, her smile falling from her face. She closed her eyes and swallowed. The Dahls were getting noisy again in her head. She grimaced and looked out towards the tall grasslands, wondering how she was going to get through the night. Finally, she stood up and walked into the stream up to her ankles, the setting sun to her back, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, forcing herself to breathe as naturally as possible.

Din watched her as she stood ankle-deep in the cold stream, her shoulders rising and falling with each breath, the sunlight reflecting on her silver hair, turning it into a burnished gold color. Something was wrong with her; he knew that much. She had said the first day that eggs would be coming in four or five days, and this was day three of his time here. He decided that she was nervous about having to go to the Hold to deliver the eggs; it was more than obvious she feared The Bishop.

He felt Grogu growing heavier in his arms; the child had a long, exciting day, and the flowers were lulling him to sleep. Din carefully removed all the garlands from Grogu and made a bower of the floating pram, laying the dozing child in the center of the flowers. “Sweet dreams, buddy,” whispered Din as he shut the lid of the pram. He wondered for the briefest of moments if there might be insects in the flowers, then figured that Grogu could have a midnight snack if that were the case. By the time he looked up again, Marathel had left the yard. Looking around, he noticed that she was walking through the stream, past the hut and away, deep in her own thoughts. Din picked up the mugs and took the opportunity to lift his helmet enough to drink his tea, thinking that he needed to find out what herbs were in it before he left this planet. He put a little hot water in her mug of tea to warm it up, leaving it on the table. After a moment’s thought he put the saucer over it. After another moment’s thought he put one of the fallen flowers on top of the saucer. Then, worried that she might misconstrue the gesture, he removed the flower. He was standing there, overthinking a silly flower, when Marathel stepped back up onto the platform at the back corner. “What are you doing, Bounty Hunter?”

His head snapped around as if she’d caught him stealing her entire stash of bread. “I, uh . . . warmed up your tea.”

She stood there, staring at him silently with a quizzical look on her face. She reached over, removed the saucer, and took the mug. “I think I will lie down. Excuse me.” She turned and disappeared behind her curtains. Din glowered down at the little yellow flower in his hand, as if it were the source of his confusion and irritation. With a small sigh, he walked over to the steps the furthest away from her curtains as possible – as loudly as his steps could be, for her benefit -- and sat down. After a while, Din tucked the little yellow flower away in the inner pocket that held the shells and driftwood from earlier that day. He leaned against the post, and stared into the sky as the stars began coming out, listening to the yip-yip-yehs of the Dahls in the far distance.

Marathel could not sleep. She could not relax. She tried to stay as quiet as possible, knowing that the Bounty Hunter was probably still awake and able to hear every move she made as the rushes in her sleeping tick crackled. Damn these rushes, she thought. Damn my desire to be comfortable. She wished for her worn-out pallet that she had in the Hold. It had been very thin, and she had felt every stone of the kitchen floor underneath it, but it didn’t make any noise to announce that she was not sleeping. She rolled to her back, stretching her arms out, trying in vain to let her body receive any cool breeze it could, but the air was still, and the yip-yip-yehs of the Dahls carried easily in the night air, but they were even louder inside her head, reverberating with her heartbeats. With a soft grunt, she rolled to her feet, giving up on any kind of sleep. She left her curtains on the kitchen side, hoping not to attract attention. She wanted cool water, but all she had was what was left in the reservoir. The fire had gone out, but the water there was still too warm. it was too dark -- even with the moonlight -- to see if her hanging waterskin still held water, so she grabbed the small lantern that she kept above the dry sink, shaking it to wake up the glow worms inside, giving off a pale light.

It was the light source that made Din turn his head in her direction. He had been sitting quietly, still leaning against the post, facing her curtains. He had been listening to her toss and turn, and heard her get up. The floating pram was quiet. He was surprised to see that she had any kind of lantern. She lived like a farmer – up with the sunrise and down with the sunset. The lantern hardly gave off any light at all, and all he could really see was her outline as she held her hair on top of her head with one hand as she held a wet cloth to the back of her neck with the other. As his eyes dragged down her back, he could see that she was wearing a thin gown with a wrap over it. He stood, hoping not to startle her, his boots announcing his presence on the wooden plank floor. She took a deep breath, dropped her hair, tossing her cloth on the counter, moving past her curtains and out of sight. He followed her. He turned to his left, just past her curtains, when he saw her leaning against a post, her back to him. Her arms were wrapped around the post tightly as she hugged it.

Din crept closer. “What is wrong?”

Marathel gave a raspy sigh. “It’s the Dahls.”

Din stood quietly, listening to the cries of the Dahls. “They are very loud tonight.”

She dropped her forehead to the post. “They’re rising to mate.”

A long pause. “I see.”

Marathlel’s breath grew faster and more ragged. “I can hear them.”

“I hear them too.”

She shook her head vigorously. “No! I . . . hear them. Not just in here,” she said, indicating her ears. “But here . . .” she put her hands on her head. “In here,” her shaking hands crossed over her chest, and her wrap fell to the floor, leaving her only in a whisper of a nightgown. “And here . . .” her hands slid down her breasts to her belly.

Din took in her words, the full truth finally getting through to him -- then he breathed out, “Oh.”

Marathel panted, wrapping her legs around the post, pulling herself close to it with a low moan. Din stepped forward and bent to retrieve her wrap. As he straightened up, Marathel suddenly leaned back, holding the post, and her spine met his beskar cuirass. Her head shot up with a gasp, and she immediately tried to press harder against him.

“I’ve . . . always been alone before . . .I don't . . . I haven't . . .” she whimpered.

Din stood motionless, holding her wrap with one hand. He closed his eyes tightly, knowing that he should back off, that he should leave her, that he should just take Grogu and walk off into the night, but just then she dipped her knees, rubbing her backside against the front of his breeches, where he did not wear beskar. His eyes opened, his penis twitching into life against his will, and from that moment, there was no existing force that could make him leave. She mewled deep in her throat, grabbing at the cuisses he wore on his thighs, pressing her round buttocks harder against him. She turned around slowly, taking hold of whatever piece of armor or flight suit she could grab, desperately pressing whatever part of her body she could against his. She scrabbled at his cuirass, pulling him towards her against the post, her teeth bared, her eyes gone dark and glazed, her breasts heaving against the thin fabric of her gown. Din grabbed at the post with the hand holding her wrap over her shoulder, his own breath growing ragged. He heard her growl as she clawed at his chest armor, breaking her fingernails. He reached up with his free hand to release the catches and the armor fell to the floor. She clutched at his now-exposed flight suit, straddling his thigh, rubbing herself hard against the armor there, her own thigh pressed firmly into his crotch as his erection grew. He automatically rutted against her thigh, pressing his whole body against hers, pinning her to the post, feeling the weight of her breasts against his flight suit. She quietly growled again, sliding her hips to his center, curling her spine, thrusting her pelvis against his, her barely covered vulva against his clothed tumescent cock, matching his rhythm. His knees were slightly bent to accommodate her, so she wrapped her own legs around his, placing her bare feet on the backs of his calves, and climbed him like a tree until her thighs were wrapped tightly around his ribs, continuing to thrust her hips against his, her arms clutched around his shoulders. Gasping, he reached under his helmet to rip his glove off his free hand with his teeth, and he reached between them, shuddering at her heat, her wetness, her unspoken pleading against the back of his bare hand. He could barely register the thought that he was touching her with his bare skin as he clumsily loosened his breeches and opened them enough to let his cock spring free, aching, desperate for her. He felt his tip touch her hot wet center, thinking that he should go slow into her, thinking that he should be gentle, thinking that she didn’t have control of herself, that this wasn’t Marathel before him but a woman with a mind and body possessed, when she lowered her chin, her dark eyes flashing at him, her teeth bared in a snarl, and she dropped her weight enough to impale herself onto him, forcing his cock as deep into her as it would go. She gave a small cry, throwing her head back against the post, her knees squeezing his ribs hard enough to break them, her thighs going into spasm as she immediately, powerfully, exquisitely, came. He felt the flutter of her quim against his cock, and he thrusted madly against her, pinning her to the post, his hand not holding the post clutching a cheek of her round, sweet, soft, ass, losing all control of his previous thoughts of gentility. Her thighs continued to squeeze, her quim continued to clutch, her cries continued to peal against his helmet, as she rode out not so much a series of orgasms as one long continuous one that seemed to ebb and flow as she moved her hips in counterpoint against his. With every thrust, Din grew weaker and weaker, the greyness that had been just around the very edges of his vision growing stronger and stronger. Her return thrusts grew more determined against him, harder, faster, her quim clasping his cock as if she were sucking the very life out of it, and Din began to feel that he might just pass out before he came if she kept this up.

At that moment, she thrust her hips furiously against him, squeezing her thighs even harder than he had thought possible, locking her ankles together, driving her heels into his spine, rendering him motionless with a ragged cry before she dropped her face against his chest, biting him hard through the flight suit as she trembled and fell apart at the peak of her long-riding orgasm. The pain of her teeth sinking into his chest sent him right over the edge, grunting, his hips convulsing against her as he finally released into her. First spasm, second spasm, gasping against her shoulder as he willed his body to finish before he fell to the floor. He twitched his hips, he had more that he desperately needed to fill her with, when he sensed, he felt, her body change against his. Her gasps of frantic pleasure were now gasps of panic; he felt her whole body stiffen, her head drawing back against the post, her hands pressing against his chest with a need to escape as Marathel came back into herself, displacing the raw need of the mating Dahls that had just completely possessed her. All this happened in the tiniest of moments, but he needed a bit more time, so he kept her captive, whispering, “Wait, wait,” into her ear, as he felt his pelvis and testicles clench. Third spasm. Marathel gasped. “Shhhhhhhh,” he breathed. He grunted again as the fourth and last spasm finally went through him and into her. Marathel gasped again, this time with a little cry. “Shhhhhhhh”, he whispered again. “You’re okay. You're okay.” He kept himself pressed against her, his upper arms holding her thighs against his sides, willing his breathing back to normal, as his erection faded. Her body was still completely tensed up, ready to spring away at the slightest opportunity. He slowly, carefully reached between them, the back of his hand touching her again, causing her to whimper as he removed himself from her, tucking his now-flaccid penis back in his breeches. He then used that same hand to gently remove her trembling left leg from his waist, carefully setting her foot back on the floor, smoothing down her nightgown against her thigh. He switched hands on the post, performing the same task with his other hand on her other leg. Still keeping her captive against the post, he pulled his head back to see her staring with wide eyes at his left pauldron. He took the wrap, miraculously still in his hand after all this, and carefully draped it over her shoulders, covering her front to grant her some modesty. He looked down at her. She continued to stare at his shoulder, trembling, biting her lips. “Hey,” he said softly. Her wide eyes shifted to his helmet. “All right?” She nodded and looked away. He took a half-step back, turning his head so that he would not see her gown, which had been captured at her waist, fall back down to her ankles. Finally released from his grasp, she turned and launched herself off the platform and into the night.

Din took one shaky breath, then a second, and then collapsed with his shoulder against the post. Dank ferrik, he thought weakly. It hurt his shoulder, but at that moment he was thankful for that damned post, otherwise he would have face-planted on the floor. He released the catches on his helmet and quickly pulled it off, feeling the cool air on his face and hair as sweat dripped into his eyes. He looked off to where Marathel had run and saw nothing. The lantern was much dimmer now, but he figured he didn’t have much time before she came back. He went to the sink, grabbed the cloth she had used on her neck, resoaked it in the now-cool water from the reservoir, and quickly wiped his face, head, and neck before replacing his helmet. He took a quick glance over his shoulder and still didn’t see her, so he quickly opened his breeches to clean himself up, making sure the cloth ended up in her dirty laundry basket. He replaced his glove and reached down to pick up his cuirass when the fabric of his flight suit dragged across his chest, reminding him that she had wounded him.

He went to the lantern, which was now almost completely dimmed out. He gave it a shake as he had seen Marathel do, and the glow worms within glowed brightly again. He opened his vest to find that she had indeed bitten him rather badly. As he sought out a clean cloth and her jar of soap, he saw Marathel returning, clutching her wrap around her tightly. He turned his back to her so as not to expose the wound – or his bare chest -- to her as he cleaned the bite mark. A ridiculous move, he thought, considering that they had just fucked like blood-hungry womp rats against a post, but he did it anyway. She climbed up on the platform, decidedly not looking at him, and went to the sink to wash her hands and brush her teeth. Glancing over his shoulder again at her bent form, he said, “You bit me.”

She froze for a moment. “Is it bad?”

“It broke the skin.”

“I, um. . .” Putting down her toothbrush, she reached up past his shoulder and brought down a jar that looked familiar. Her breasts brushed against the back of his flight suit, and she jumped back. “Use this salve. It will keep infection away.” She went back to the sink and her toothbrush.

Din used the salve as directed and closed his flight suit. Lifting his cuirass over his shoulders he asked, “Does your cycle follow the Dahls’ cycle?”

Marathel fell still again, and her face grew hot as she realized what he was asking her. She swallowed and said, “No. No, it does not.”

Din nodded. “You should be okay anyway; I’m fixed.”

“I’m sorry?”

Din clicked the last of the catches on his armor. “I’m shooting blanks.”

Marathel softly said, “Oh,” and went back to brushing her teeth. She didn’t understand what he was talking about, but she knew that she did not have the courage to ask. She returned her toothbrush to its proper place. Din walked back to the floating pram, glad that it was still completely shut. He was not ready to have that conversation anytime soon. They each moved to their curtained partitions, but they both paused, both knowing that words were being left unsaid and both unsure if they would – or should -- stay that way. Din turned to look at Marathel. Marathel had half-turned, but her eyes were downcast. She stammered, “I . . . good night,” and escaped behind her curtains for the second time that night. The pale fabric fluttered closed. Din stepped behind his dark curtains and laid down, flat on his back, and linked his fingers together across his stomach. He blinked into the darkness and thought, Well, that was different.

Marathel sank down to a sitting position on her sleeping tick, staring off into space for a long time after the Bounty Hunter had fallen asleep. Over and over in her head she thought, dear Frith in heaven, what have I done?

You Were Marked: Next Chapter ->

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shallyne · 5 months

Text

(Are We) Out Of The Woods

Hi, @starfall-spirit ! It's me, I'm your secret santa 🎅✨ It's been such a fun journey, sending you asks and creating this. I really hope you enjoy reading it just as much as I did creating it 💚🎁 happy @acotargiftexchange reveal day 🎉🎄🎀

Words: 7,762

TW: death, kidnapping, violence

Feyre was once a normal woman with wishes and dreams like everyone but when she gets betrayed by her fiancé her whole life changes in the span of one evening as she looks death in the eye.

Rhysand is a normal man with wishes and dreams like everyone, although when he wakes one morning his nightmare seems to become reality. How will Feyre play into this unexpected journey?

Don't trust strangers. Be careful, be aware. Do not speak to strangers and if you do, keep it short. Never go to places alone with a stranger. Do not accept any food or beverage from a stranger. Tell no stranger, under any circumstances, where you live. Keep your distance from strangers, never let them get too close to you. There is a lot of evil in this world, little wildcat. Never. Trust. Strangers.

A warning spoken to a toddler, a wild child, spoken to a teenager. It was a warning that was kept close and never forgotten, a promise that was kept. Never did anyone speak about the other danger. The danger in the form of the man you loved, the man who held your hands and wiped away the tears. The man that was charming, had a beautiful, not-dangerous smile. The man who promised you a future, to keep you safe, to start a family. No one spoke about the danger in the form of a priestess in beautiful blue robes, tinkling silver bracelets and hungry eyes. The priestess who lived among them, who was supposed to officiate your wedding. The priestess who was ridden in jealousy, who had secretly planned your demise all along.

Feyre Archeron was going to die today. If one thing was sure, it was this. Terror was overriding her senses, her whole body was shaking from her bound arms down to her bound legs. They had used a scratch piece of material to cover her eyes and her mouth. Two strong hands were carrying her, hands that she had felt so often on her hands that she knew them like her own. Hands she had loved to feel on her skin, until now. Now it felt wrong, the feeling made her so nauseous that she feared her stomach would empty very soon. She hadn't a clue where they were, the ringing in her ears was so shrill she couldn't make out any other noise and her nose was stuffy from crying. The only smell she could take in was the salt of her tears and the metallic tang of blood that was stinging her nose. It was her blood, she knew, because they had dragged her out of the manor and Feyre hadn't gone down without a fight. Something hard had hit her head, her temple, and Feyre had lost her consciousness. When she awoke, she was bound and gagged and carried to another location.

Time was so far away that Feyre didn't know if they walked for a few minutes or a few hours, but it must have been a while because when Tamlin spoke, Feyre flinched.

"Is this necessary?" he asked, voice unsure. Necessary? Of course this wasn't necessary, whatever this is! That he would even entertain this idea filled Feyre with so much rage that she wanted to roar at him. Why? She wanted to ask him. Why would you do this to me?

Ianthe's answer came from a closer distance than Feyre had expected, "Of course this is necessary, Tamlin! I know this is hard for you but the Gods are fickle. Beautiful and strong, that's what Feyre is, isn't she? That is what the Gods want. You don't want to risk a wrath? You don't want a war at your front steps? Do this and be done." a cold finger suddenly caressed Feyre's cheek and she flinched back. An irritated tsk was the only recognition she got. It was silent for a moment, the ringing in her ears ebbed away, her heartbeat slowed, Tamlin and Ianthe didn't talk. During that one moment that wasn't longer than a heartbeat, Feyre could hear it. Faint, but it was there and she knew exactly where they were headed. Panic rising once again, she started thrashing in Tamlin’s arms, trying to scream. With a curse, he pressed her closer to his chest harder, making it impossible to move as they neared the waterfall, farther and farther away from her hometown. Tenebra was rumored to be the old home of the Goddess Vae, once a very long time ago. This forest was hers to rule, the creatures that lived in these woods bowed only to her. Rumors say it was once full of magical beings that Feyre couldn't remember the names of because these stories were told to children. Stories how people saw Vae still roaming the forest, especially the waterfall Tenebra. Feyre remembered how Ianthe had included her in her prayers. The trembling began again as the sounds of the rushing water came nearer and Feyre knew she was a sacrifice. A sacrifice to the goddess, or at least Tamlin believed that. Ianthe had made him believe it, so she could finally get rid of her. Feyre wanted to scream and fight, she wanted to slap some sense into Tamlin. Never did the Gods of these lands demand human sacrifices, not once in Feyre's too short lifetime.

They came to a stop, the gurgling water of the river right beside her, so close that she could feel trickles of water on her exposed skin. The waterfall was roaring so loud that Feyre couldn't decipher any other noises.

Suddenly the cloth of the blindfold was ripped from Feyre's head and she was met by a pair of teal eyes. Surely the terror on Feyre's face gave Ianthe a sadistic satisfaction. Her breathing became erratic as she tried to kick her feet out, to no success. Tamlin stepped closer to the waterfall, and Feyre wildly shook her head, trying to scream, to speak. Please, she wanted to say. It's everything she could think. Please, please, please. The waterfall was pounding on the rocks below, in rhythm with her heart that was thumping in her chest. She was next, slamming on these stones. She would be next.

The only warning she got was Ianthe clasping her hands as her lips moved. A prayer. Next thing she knew, Tamlin threw her off the cliff and she was plummeting to her death. Strangling noises escaped her as she tried to scream, pulling at the binds on her wrists. The wind was ripping on her nightdress and her hair, pulling strands of her braid free. Help me, Feyre prayed. Save me, please save me, she asked whoever could hear her. Vae never asked for human sacrifices, Feyre knew that. Maybe Vae would save her, although she was a fickle goddess. Maybe, maybe, maybe Vae would save her. Please. That was the last thing she thought before she slammed into something hard. Feyre was dead before she could feel pain.

It was dark and…cold? Feyre hadn't expected the afterlife to be cold, she hadn't expected to feel anything or think. There wasn't a doubt that Feyre was dead because she didn't have a body, not like before. She just…was. It was still, never did Feyre witness such a silence. She tried to step forward, but she didn't know if she succeeded, she didn't feel a thing, couldn't see a thing. As she tried to make sense of where she was, the temperature became warm, so suddenly that Feyre startled. The nothingness started to transform, becoming inky. It was still pitch black but Feyre had the sensation that there was a rim of gold, a thread. She lashed forward, swim! a voice told her. Her own voice. So she did, she swam towards the gold until it was close, until she could touch it. Just a little closer and she was there. She touched it, grabbed it, yanked on it.

First nothing happened but then Feyre was assaulted with a cacophony of sounds, she groaned and covered her ears with her hands. Hands. She had hands.

"Open your eyes." an ethereal voice demanded, gentle but assertive.

Feyre listened, slowly opening her eyes. She was met with bright, forest green eyes that Feyre could have sworn were freckled with stars. Her thin, heart shaped lips stretched into a smile and her jet-black hair fell over Feyre like a curtain as the woman looked down at her. Just then did she recognize the roaring of the waterfall and every muscle in her body locked up.

"Don't be scared, my child." the woman soothed her, a cold hand caressing her cheek. "You're in no danger, not anymore. I saved you." she tucked her hair behind her ear, her green eyes leaving her face, focusing on something on Feyre's left. She followed her line of sight, until it found a heap of bloodied clothes. No, not just clothes. A heap of tangled, severed limbs. Ianthe robe, Tamlins tunic. They were dead, it wasn't a dream. Feyre survived–

"You died," the woman said, a humorless huff as her eyes stayed fixed in what had been Tamlin and Ianthe. "Anything, they could have offered anything as a tribute and they gave you." Feyre raised her hands, looking at them thoroughly. Something has changed, they looked different but she couldn't place it. "You were dead," the woman repeated, "I brought you back. It's impossible to bring humans back from the dead, so there was a price to pay, so you've traded your humanity." she tilted her head, looking at Feyre. "Such a young soul, you wanted to live. I've heard your call for help, how desperately you clung to that little thread of life inside of you."

Feyre looked again at the pile of limbs that lay at the other side of the river under an ordinary pine tree, just now realizing how far it was away. She could see so very far now. She took in the woman that still hovered above her, the golden skin that seemed to radiate light, she kept talking. "Rage had consumed my very being when I saw them standing there, falling to your death. They also paid the price, paid with their life. I made sure of it." As if snapping out of a trance she turned back to Feyre, shrugging her shoulders.

Feyre waited to feel frightened but all she felt was relief. She lived, she was thankful. "Vae," she breathed.

The Goddess smiled at her, fully and without restraint. "Welcome home, my child."

Rhysand

Rhys had a dream. A nightmare, really. He was in a forest, not a normal forest. It had felt magical, somehow. Different. Of course he didn't pay much attention to it because he was on a mission to find his mother, who was kidnapped. Time was against him, he had to find her. Panic was rising inside him because with every ticking second the chances became slimmer that he would find his mother alive. Racing through the thicket of the forest, he listened. Nothing but chirping birds, rushing water and– his mother's scream sliced through the forest. That was when Rhysand had awoken, drenched in sweat and trembling, nausea rising up. When he got up, he realized that his mother wasn't there and that his dream was more real than he realized.

That's how he found himself trudging up a dirt path, to the forest he was pretty sure he had seen in his dream, followed by his brothers Azriel and Cassian and his Cousin Mor. He knew it was a long shot, it was only a dream after all but something pulled him here and deep down, he knew he was right. He felt like an idiot explaining this to his family but they listened and they believed him, for now. If they wouldn't have any lead towards his mother within the next hour, they would go to the police.

"That's weird," Mor mused, staring down at her phone, "according to google maps there shouldn't be a forest here." she scratched her forehead, looking at the sprawling line of trees they walked towards.

"Are we at the right location?" Azriel spoke for the first time since they entered the car an hour ago.

Rhys and Mor spoke at the same time, "Yes." and as Mor fell into an explanation, he quickened his steps as the pull became stronger. A cold gust of wind blasted them, making Rhys shiver in his winter coat. It was the middle of December, close to christmas and the temperatures in the north were cold. It made him worry all the more about his mother, granted that he didn't know how long she was missing and what she was wearing. Praying to every god and goddess that his mother had told him stories about as a young boy, he hoped she was fine. I will find you, mom. He promised, silently.

The steps behind him hurriedly came closer to keep up with Rhysand, as he neared the treeline. He didn't stop, even as Mor said, "Are you sure this is right?"

No, he wasn't but he wouldn't say that, this was the only lead and he couldn't not follow it. "It's worth a shot. If we go to the police now they likely won't help us because there is no indication of her being–" he swallowed, "They wouldn't help us but I know something happened."

It became quiet and Rhys didn't check if they were all following him, until Mor softly said, "Okay."

The only noise that stretched between them was the crunching of their steps on the frosted ground as they reached the first pine tree. The forest looked utterly normal, a line of tall pine trees bulking over them but when they stepped forward, the whole world seemed to change. It was a buzzing feeling right under Rhysand's skin, as if something had awoken after a long sleep. The shape of trees seemed to take other shapes and the colors became brighter, a whole other season. The winter attire he was wearing felt suffocating. The color of the tree trunks seemed lighter, and the leaves of the canopy above almost resembled a pink tone, mixed with yellows, light greens and…violet. The forest itself. The energy all around him seemed pulsing and alive, as if it was its own entity. Rhysand felt like he stepped into a fairytale forest.

"Holy shit," Cassian breathed, stopping beside Rhys. Mor gaped, turning to take in her surroundings. Azriel carefully had a hand hovering at his side, where he had his gun tucked away.

Rhys shook his head, there wasn't any time to marvel at nature, they had a mission. He said as much before he took to the right, no clue where he should go.

"So we just wander around and hope we find your mother? What if we never find out of this monstrosity?" Mor asked.

Rhys sighed, "I thought you had your phone."

"I do," she said, followed by the rustle of her jacket. He looked over his shoulder to see his cousin but as he did, his eye catched a white blur between the trees. Squinting his eyes, he tried to make sense of the form but it was already gone. It was probably imagination, making out things where nothing was because he needed to find his mother. Opening his mouth, the form appeared again in the corner of his eye. In an attempt to catch it, he whirled his head around but nothing was there. He refrained from cursing, at least he did until he stepped forward and crashed into an invisible wall.

"Are you okay?" Mor immediately asked, rushing to his side.

Rubbing his forehead, Rhys slowly reached forward until he met the wall again. "What the–"

His brother's hand gripped his arm and pulled him back, Azriel doing the same with Mor, as a huge wolf jumped forward, so big it was towering over them, growling. Its fur was so black that Rhys would have thought he was staring into a void if it wasn't for the glowing green eyes staring at him and the bared teeth. Rhys tried not to pay attention to the latter, as one of his canines was as big as his forearm. What if his mother had encountered one of these? No. She couldn't, she had to be alive.

"Bryaxis!" a husky voice called out, it was authoritative but angelic in its very own way. The forest seemed to stop and listen as the source of the voice came closer.

When the woman emerged, Rhys's breath hitched. She was everything he could have dreamt of, but a thousand times better. A glow seemed to be emanating from her, setting off her pale, freckled skin, the golden-brown of her hair and the grayish blue of her eyes. A soft wind ruffled her wavy hair, as if it was curious to touch her.

The wolf, Bryaxis, backed down with a whine as the woman scrutinized them, eyebrows drawn together. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

After a heartbeat of shock, Rhys cleared his throat and stepped forward, "My name is Rhysand. We are sorry to intrude but my Mother is missing and I believe she is here, somewhere in this forest."

"That can't be!" she barely let Rhys finish his sentence, "I know of everyone who enters this forest-"

Bryaxis whimpered, making her turn around in confusion. "What?" He whimpered again and the woman tilted her head as if she'd understood the wolf. While they had a conversation that no one else could understand, Rhys took in her garments. It wasn't anything fit for the season, not even the warmth this forest seemed to emanate. A long, white gown, seemingly made from silk, with wide sleeves that flared toward the bottom. The gown was flowing and hid her feet, making her look like she was hovering above the ground. That was impossible of course, she was not defying gravity. Suddenly she whirled around, looking Rhys in the eyes, holding eye contact for long moments as if she was searching for something. Then she let her eyes rover over his brothers and his cousin, her mouth silently moving. Rhys thought she was counting, but she didn't give any indication, except a little shake of her head that could be interpreted in many ways. "He couldn't…could he? But that's–" she sighed. Then she turned her attention to him again, "Your mother, you say? Can you describe her to me?"

"I can show you a picture!" Rhys said, pulling his phone out of the inner pocket of his jacket.

The woman jumped back with a shocked shriek, "What is that?"

"My phone." Rhys replied, confused. How long had she lived in that forest? How old was she? He tried to turn on his phone but he only managed to get to the homescreen before it died. At eighty-four percent. The same happened to Mor when he told her, and to his brothers.

"Do you have something of hers? That still has her scent?" the woman asked

That he had. Hastily he took his mother's scarf out of his backpack and gave it to her, she held it to Bryaxis, who sniffed on it. She gave the scarf back after Bryaxis poked her with his nose.

"Follow me," the woman said. "I'll accompany you on this journey. Do not stray from the way, if you stumble into a strange territory without me, there is a price to pay. I know the forest the best, understood? Don't talk to anyone and don't, under any circumstances, make a bargain."

They all made noises of agreement. "Thank you…miss." Mor said, struggling as she realized the stranger leading them didn't introduce herself.

"Feyre," she had replied, already taking off without looking back. They followed her. "My name is Feyre."

Time felt different in the forest, they were walking for some time, which could be minutes or hours, Rhys had no clue. Cassian and Azriel kept a few paces behind, Cassian sometimes whispering to Azriel, and Mor walked besides Rhys, becoming unusually quiet since Feyre had introduced herself. Feyre and Bryaxis led them farther into the forest, the foliage becoming denser every few meters, making it impossible to see the sun but somehow the light stayed the same. It was already clear that these woods were everything but ordinary, but he couldn't help but marvel at the beauty and the sense of magic that prickled on his skin as if it was beckoning to be acknowledged. Colors became more vibrant, the atmosphere more alive as if watching their every step, making the trees seem less like trees but more like guardians. He supposed that if it was really alive, he would be distrusting of this group in their place, except for the mysterious woman that led them. The woman they would be lost without, and her wolf, the woman Mor looked at with a strange sort of admiration. If she left them now, they would probably wander these woods forever, searching for an exit. He hoped that wasn't his mother's fate, it couldn't be.

As if Feyre could hear his thoughts, she whirled around, suddenly stopping. "I changed my mind."

It took a few seconds until Rhys processed the words and his ears started ringing, "What?" he bit out. Even Bryaxis seemed to tilt his head in confusion.

"I was thinking about it and I changed my mind, I won't lead you to your mother." Rhys was about to open his mouth and say something he most definitely would regret but Feyre added, "Unless you will make a bargain with me."

Taking a deep breath, Cassian said, "You just told us to not make any bargains."

Feyre shrugged, her eyes sparkling, "Everything has a price."

Rhys balled his hand into a fist, "What is your price?"

"I assume you have seen the pixies that watched you a while back? Or the path that led to a dragon's path?" she crossed her arms as if this was a normal conversation she had everyday.

Rhys did remember seeing the pixie but he thought it was a trick of his imagination. "I have." he confirmed.

Feyre smiled satisfied, "This isn't even a fraction of what you can imagine living in this forest." Rhys swallowed, "So my bargain is, I will lead you to your mother and tell you about all sorts of creatures in return for you to tell stories about them. Fables, myths, fairy tales, legends, written or by word, you name it. Get the word out."

"That's all?" Rhys asked incredulously and Mor pinched his side. "Ow."

"That's all." Feyre said, "Don't even think about tricking me, the bargain will bind you to your word." she held out her hand, "Is it a bargain?"

"What happens if I won't hold up my end of the bargain?" Rhys asked, already sure of his decision.

"Magic is unpredictable but it will most likely be death." she replied, her hand still extended.

He sighed, "It's a bargain." he said, taking her hand. Feyre's grip was stronger than he expected and he was scared she would snap his hand for a moment, that moment Rhys realized for the first time that she had markings on her hand, like a tattoo. Intricate swirls all over her left hand, over her arm too but her sleeves made it impossible to see how far. Then she turned around and kept walking, as if they only took a small, unimportant break. It was Azriel who tapped on his shoulder, getting Rhys out of his trance. When they all caught up with Feyre, she started talking. She explained that there were different parts in the forest where specific beings lived, that Feyre knew them all and what kind of beings they were. All kinds of creatures that Rhys last heard about when he was a child and always believed them to be myths, children's stories. Feyre talked about selkies, nixies, kelpies, anansi, stygian spiders. She had all of Cassian’s attention when she talked about mothman. She also mentioned Balayang, adarna, harpy, sirens, basan, grim, chimeras. On Cassian’s request she also confirmed that bigfoot exists. Drakes, vampyrs, witches, reapers, wraiths. There were also pixies, elves, nymphs, dryads and sprites who were mostly known as fairies. There were much more beings that Feyre explained, but his attention switched to Mor as she became more restless. Rhys was about to speak to her when Feyre took a small break from talking, but Mor took the opportunity to ask Feyre, "So the stories are all true?"

Feyre smiled softly, "I don't know what kind of stories your kind was told but most likely, yes. Although they were probably dramatized."

Mor tilted her head in thought, "There is a story about the lady of Nox." She went quiet but Feyre still smiled, gently gesturing for her to keep talking. "It's about a waterfall, well not a waterfall but about a goddess who lived there and she granted people immortality in exchange for the soul of a woman. Is that true? Do goddesses exist? That story creeped me out."

Feyre's smile faltered and Rhys probably imagined it but she seemed to pale and swallow. "This is a myth that's told? You all know it?"

"Yes?" Mor replied unsure, "Although the waterfall has a different name in every story." she exhaled, before she added, "It's your story, isn't it? Feyre. You were granted immortality."

Feyre shook her head and looked at Bryaxis, who in return looked at her as if she solved a puzzle. "It's not right," she said so quietly that Rhys barely heard her, "It's wrong, it's not…it's the story of how I died." Rhys went rigid, but Feyre didn't seem to realize as she kept whispering to herself. Then she looked Rhys in the eyes, "I know where your mother is. Where she is headed."

It didn't help anything to calm his worries that Feyre's eyes went distant, almost glassy. She gestured for them to follow her, picking up her pace. Mor squeezed his hand in reassurance as they picked up their pace, too.

"We have to go through the middle," Feyre explained, "It will go faster. Maybe we will catch them before they reach Tenebra."

"What's Tenebra?" Cassian asked.

"Hurry!" Feyre only replied.

They did hurry. What looked like a brisk walk for Feyre, was more like a jog for Mor, Cassian, Azriel and Rhys. As they did, the temperatures changed a few times but he was sure it didn't come from the forest itself, it came from the female leading them. He had the distinct feeling the weather and the temperatures were tied to her and the weight of what Mor said, that Feyre was made immortal, felt a lot heavier. They passed paths that led no doubt to somewhere dangerous and beautiful and a creature that looked scarily much like a satyr that waved to Feyre. She only managed to quickly wave back before she turned right after a tree with a pink-ish trunk. No one paid much attention to the cleft they reached and hurried over the wooden bridge. Nothing scared Rhys so much that it would keep him from the people he loved, especially his mother.

The forest became darker the farther they walked into the forest, as if winter only reached the middle of the woods. Rhys wondered if that was the reason Feyre was nervous about the middle but she was so fearless, he couldn't imagine that snowfall could be the reason.

Mist began to spill out between the trees, the foliage turning from vibrant into a sickly shade, cringing away from the creeping darkness. Feyre herself seemed to be affected by the nearing…sickness.he didn't find another word, it was the only one that could describe the atmosphere. It wasn't naturally dark, it was ill.

They slowed down a little as they apparently neared the center and as they crossed the thickest veil of mist, Rhys knew why sickness only felt close to right. The land was dying and it was spreading. Before Rhys was flat, dead land that reached far into the horizon. He could only make out a few gnarly trees, dried rivers and rubble of what once were grand buildings. Vultures were circling above.

Feyre slowed so far down that it was easy to catch up to her, Bryaxis was ahead of them. When he turned his head to look at Feyre, he saw that silent tears were rolling down her cheeks.

"Were you present when this land was…less dead?" Rhys asked her. They were walking so close that Rhys faintly stroked her hand. He expected Feyre to draw back, but she didn't.

She only wiped her tears with her other hand, "I was here when this piece of land didn't even exist yet, I watched when it all was built." she sniffed and looked up to Rhys. They held eye contact for a few seconds and it felt so open, Rhys's chest felt tight. Feyre had felt cold until now, mysterious and ethereal but now as she turned away again, she seemed almost human. "This forest, it once was a normal pine forest. But as I was…created, it changed. My story found itself as a tale among humans and these stories kept me alive. It grew, many stories have been created and so have many creatures who live here. We only live because humans believe in us, in our tales." she sighed before she continued, "Humans don't believe in these stories as they once have and it kills us.it kills these woods and I don't know how to stop it…"

"That's why you want me to tell these stories?" Rhys asked, "To keep the forest alive?"

Feyre nodded as they stepped around rubble, a cold wind pulling on their clothes. "It's the only way I can come up with. If the people start believing again, we might be saved. I don't think this," she pointed around the dead land, "will ever exist again but if I can save the rest, I will. Whatever it takes."

Rhys looked back to his brothers and his cousin, they all looked as sad and helpless as he felt but no one could speak before Bryaxis started growling.

Feyre ran forward, resting her hand on Bryaxis' back and shielded her eyes as they looked forward. "I see a man." she said. Rhys squinted his eyes, trying to see what they saw but he didn't succeed. "He seems to be middle aged, close cropped hair, kind of a hunchback and a limp–"

"Hybern." Azriel said for the first time since they came across Feyre, his voice so cold it came out as a growl.

Feyre slightly leaned forward, then gasped, "I think it's your mother!" she said.

Rhys didn't hear anything else as he fell into a sprint. Their calls felt like they were worlds away but he could only think about his mother. Hybern had her, he dragged her here. That man always was somewhat enemies with his father but Rhys had believed he was rid of that man after his father's passing. It took him longer than anticipated before he could even faintly make out the two figures and it was without a doubt his mother. He could hear his family behind him, their steps crunching on the ground under their feet.

His rage only grew the closer he came, as he could see how Hybern was dragging his mother. Her hands were tied and the braid she usually wore was almost unraveled.

He'd kill Hybern, Rhys was sure that when he reached him, he'd kill him.

Closer, he thought. Now he could make out the tattered jacket Hybern was wearing. His mother had fought him, good. He hadn't doubted it but it filled him with pride.

Closer, now he was so close that when his mother looked up at Hybern, turning her head, he saw the blood coating her temple.

Close, so close that they could hear the crunch of the rubble under his foot. Hybern turned around, his smug face turning shocked as he saw Rhys. He only had a moment to decide what to do before Rhys would reach them and when Hybern's black gaze met his mother's, just then Rhys realized that they stood at some sort of cliff as he pushed her.

"No!" Rhys yelled, flinging himself forward, grabbing his mother's hand. She stumbled backwards, but Rhys held her and pulled her up as something behind him thumped heavily. He quickly undid the bindings on her wrists with the knife he had on him and removed the piece of duct tape on her mouth he hadn't seen earlier.

"Rhys," his mother cried, hugging him as she sobbed, "What are you doing here? How did you know?" she leaned back and took his face in her hands, how she often had done when he was a little boy. "You could have been seriously injured! Are you out of your mind?"

"You are out of your mind if you'd think I wouldn't find you–" he said, being interrupted by Hybern's cursing.

"You bitch!" he yelled, "Let me go!"

Rhys looked over his shoulder, where Feyre straddled Hybern, choking him as her face twisted in rage. "This is my forest!" she screamed at him, slightly letting up and then pushing him on the ground so hard that some bone cracked when his head hit the ground. His mother tightened her grip on Rhys as Feyre apparently let out all her rage, "MINE!"

Just as the other's caught up, Rhys caught something glinting at the corner of his eyes, at the same time as Bryaxis roared from a small distance away, Rhys shouted, "Feyre! Down!"

It was only a matter of seconds as Hybern pulled out his gun but making the decision and actually pushing Feyre out of the way as he pulled the trigger felt like forever. That was the last time Rhys had any sense of time before agony tore through him. He could hear a wet crunch, his mother's screaming, Mor's sobbing and fell cold hands on his chest but he couldn't open his eyes. Someone was groaning, maybe it was him, and he didn't know if he was writhing in pain.

Pain.

Pain so agonizing his whole body felt like he was on fire. He didn't realize that he was picked up, he imagined the voice telling him to hold on was himself, not Feyre, he didn't know that she was able to put him in a kind of magical coma to ease his pain, to get him out quickly, to slow down his death.

No, everything Rhys knew that there was pain until it wasn't. He had believed that when his pain actually vanished and he was submerged by water, death had finally claimed him. In these moments he thanked whatever gods existed that he was allowed to see his mother again, even if it was only fleeting. That his family would be alright. He was thankful, even though he was dead.

Or so he thought.

"Open your eyes!" Feyre demanded in the same tone she had used for Bryaxis upon their first meeting.

He obliged, meeting her beautiful eyes to find her face tear streaked, and yet the first thing she said was, "Did you know that you bear the bloodline of the goddess who saved me?"

It confused him, it felt like gibberish at first. Feyre's arms held him firmly, he was in some kind of pond. Although it wasn't filled with water, the liquid felt thicker but lighter at the same time. When he let his gaze hover above the surface, it looked like…stars.

"I wasn't sure at first," Feyre continued, "But your eyes are the same as hers and I wasn't alarmed when you or your mother stepped into my forest." she helped Rhys into a standing position, "This pond healed you because it recognized you. This is Tenebra, the old home of Vae."

Rhys's mind felt like mud but he slowly understood what Feyre was saying. He touched his chest, looking down to where he was shot, to not even find a scar.

"This bloodline is long so you won't have inherited any powers but the forest still recognizes you. Did someone ever tell you that your eyes look like stars live in them?"

"You're the first," Rhys croaked, still slightly confused from almost dying, as if in a trance, which was broken when Feyre smiled at him, broadly and without any restraint. She was beautiful, he already knew that but her smile was breathtaking, so much that he feared he'd collapse again.

Feyre took his arm and led him out of the water, apparently not caring that they were dripping wet.

"We shouldn't wait," she said softly, "Your family is waiting just outside. It might seem like it's night," Rhys looked up at the full moon, "But it's not, this place is just grieving, like your mother who's waiting for you. It should stop when you're all back home safely. Bryaxis told me it's close to the solstice, you must be celebrating, huh?" she slid her hand in his, "It's normal to feel like this after a death or near death experience, this will wear off soon." she explained, tugging him forward to a crossing in the forest where Rhys could see people huddled together.

Rhys squeezed Feyre's hand, she squeezed back. "Thank you." he told her.

She nodded once, "I will open a portal for you to get back home quicker but this isn't goodbye, Rhys!" she said, tapping his arm. "This is simply see you later. And if you want to know about this place for our bargain, just come back the same way you did when you entered the forest and knock three times on the tallest pine tree, I'll be there."

"One thing," he asked, close to his family, "What is this enchanted forest called?"

He hadn't expected that she could smile brighter, but she did. "This enchanted forest, my home, is called Velaris."

"Rhysand!" his mother yelled relieved, throwing her arms around him shortly after, "You're okay! I thought I had lost you!"

"You won't be rid of me that easily, mom." he joked, earning a scolding and a slap on his arm.

He chuckled, although it sounded raw, as Cassian, Azriel and Mor hugged him tightly. When they all parted, Feyre stood at a tree with what looked like a door. Into their living room. Magic was still weird to him, like his heritage but he believed Feyre. Rhys's mother hugged her so tightly that Feyre yelped but she wrapped her arms around Rhys's mother right after.

"Please don't get kidnapped again."

"I won't," she sniffed.

His mother went first through the portal, after a few goodbyes. Then went Cassian and Mor, then after a look over his shoulder at Rhys, Azriel went.

Feyre sighed, "What a day, right? What are you thinking? How about a thought for a thought?"

"A thought for a thought?"

"You tell me something and I tell you something in return." she said.

"I–" Rhys started. "This day feels extremely surreal. I'm exhausted, I'm scared that if I walk through this portal my mother will be gone again and this was a bad dream. I don't want to go either because it would mean leaving you."

"See you later, remember?" Feyre said.

"Your turn." Rhys replied softly.

"I've been alive for a very long time and since I've become what I am now, I never built any relationship with anyone but…I'm very glad I met you, Rhys." she looked towards the door before she stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. "I also think if you don't go now, your mom will probably die of worry."

Rhys huffed in amusement, "I'm very glad I met you too, Feyre." he said, "We will save Velaris." he promised her before he stepped through the portal, not waiting for a reaction.

He stepped into his living room as if stepping through his front door. Mor looked up from her phone as his mother already began fussing over Rhys, her eyes wide.

"! knew that place was…" she scrunched her nose as if saying the word itself was hard, "...magic but I hadn't really…no time has passed since we stepped into the forest! Apparently it's been like five minutes!'' She held her phone so close to his face that Rhys had to take a step back.

December 20th, 8:53 a.m.

It was still the very same morning. It felt eerie but at the same time, he wasn't confused.

Exhausted, he put Mor's phone down and gestured them all to the kitchen, now it was his time to fuss over his family after an apparently-not-so-long long day.

Rhys was back at the forest the day after Christmas, equipped with an empty notebook and a pen. It was from that moment on that Rhys went there everyday. They sat close to the edge of the forest, sometimes they talked about their lives and sometimes Feyre told him about Velaris and the beings living in it.

It was by march that Rhys had nearly four full notebooks full of information and little sketches that Feyre doodled beside it.

By June, Rhys had told her everything about himself. How his father sucked, how his parents were about to divorce shortly before his death, how Mor had mostly grown up with him and he saw her more as a sister than a cousin, how his brothers were adopted and his sister was in her first year of college and how she only was home on holidays and he missed her. He told her about some dates that failed spectacularly, which had made her laugh wholeheartedly. He told her that he lived with his mother because there was an unlucky accident and his house had caught fire eight months prior, he's still there because he fell in love all over again with his hometown when he moved back to his mom's and is currently house hunting. By July, Feyre tried to leave the forest so Rhys could show her how the world had evolved. She was not ready yet but they had time and Rhys would be with her whenever she was, he promised her.

It was September when Feyre opened up after another thought for a thought, and she told him how the priestess of her ex-fiancé had convinced him to sacrifice her to the great goddess Vae. No one was ever supposed to become immortal, it was payment for saving Feyre because she had died, other than Rhysand. He held her hand as she told him how rough her early years as an immortal were. She was allowed to leave Velaris but she was scared because Velaris, although the change was hard, became her safe place. It was Feyre who was the guardian of the enchanted, the heart of these lands.

By October, Rhys had finished his very first book full of stories about Velaris. It had quickly become his favorite project to work on.

From November to December their banter became purely flirting.

Rhys already knew by February that he was in love with Feyre, by July he knew he loved Feyre.

It was already late on Christmas eve, he had promised Feyre to see her that day but the whole day was so busy that it was already 5 p.m. when he finally got to his room, putting on his winter coat and grabbing the second project he had worked on the past year, that he would shoe Feyre today. He was halfway down the stairs when it knocked and his mother shouted to Rhys to take it.

Nervous because it was already late and Feyre was most likely waiting, Rhys didn't see that his mother's shoes stood differently as she quickly had pulled them off only a moment earlier, the snow on her soles so fresh it just began smelting. He walked past it, paying the shoes no attention, and opened the door. His eyes went wide as Feyre grinned at him, big cardboard signs in her hand but she held it so that Rhys couldn't see what was written on it. Only when Fryre gestured to someone behind her, Rhys realized the group of carolers as they began singing.

Just then Feyre turned the signs around for Rhys to say. The first said, Merry Christmas! Followed by apparently humans celebrate Christmas now instead of solstice in parenthesis

Rhys huffed a laugh as Feyre struggled to put the sign down with her gloved hands, then threw it on the ground beside her.

But for now let me say, said the next sign, the following sign said, without hope or agenda, next sign, just because it's christmas, and at Christmas you tell the truth,

Rhys held his breath as Feyre struggled again with the next sign, her expression looking as nervous as he felt, and then she found a rhythm in which she showed him sign after sign,

From the moment I saw you,

I wanted you to be mine,

I felt the moment I laid eyes on you,

I felt my pulse rushing,

And first I believed it was loathing,

Unadulterated loathing,

Because that is all I've known for a very long time,

But with you it's different,

My broken and mended heart is yours,

I love you, Rhysand

The first step he took was subconscious but when his foot met the creaky step, he was hyper aware of every step he took until he stood in front of her. Feyre tilted her head up to Rhys, the wool hat she was wearing slipping down, covering her eyes. A smile tugged on his lips as he pushed it up again and met Feyre's glistening blue eyes.

"Say it," Rhys said but it came out as a question.

Feyre put her gloved fans on his shoulders, "I love you, Rhysand. I'm yours, my heart is yours."

It felt like his earth was shattering and mending itself, it felt like an answer to a question Rhys couldn't remember even, but he was damn glad for the answer.

He leaned down, finally kissing Feyre and holding her close to him. Her fingers buried into his shoulders as she pressed into him, the world around him was nothing. The carolers a background noise he blended out, not noticing as his family sneaked into the doorway.

Feyre only parted when the book he had held the whole time slipped out of his fingers and she picked it up, "What is that?"

Rhys gently took the book and opened the first page, "It's for you." he said sheepishly, "It's your story."

Feyre grinned happily, pressing a kiss on his lips. "Thank you." she whispered, "But that story doesn't have an ending yet."

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heniareth · 6 months

Text

ZevWarden Week 2023

Day 5: Bodies and Minds

Blank

Wordcount: 1,738 | Rating: Teens and Up

Old battle wounds do not only extend to the body. One morning, Zevran wakes up and his Warden is gone.

WARNING FOR:

- not medically accurate dementia

- angst

(Read down below or here on AO3)

Bright light. So bright it hurt her eyes. For a moment, she couldn't see.

But she could hear. And feel.

Somebody next to her. Warm, soft skin, soft hair. Dark lines.

Love.

What was his name?

Love.

That was not his name.

Pain in her left leg when she moved. When had that happened? Tightness in the skin of her face, on the right side, bumps and ridges and grooves. So unlike the left side of her face. Almost up to her eyes. That was bad. When had that happened?

What was his name?

Not knowing was bad.

Not knowing made her nervous.

Slowly, she crept out—bed, she crept out of the bed—and left. She was in a long, high—hallway, she was in a hallway. Walking hurt, in her left leg.

What was his name?

She looked, outside. A bright sliver of something, brighter than the brightest light, was on the earth far away. She had to look away, it was so bright.

She wanted to take a closer look.

What was his name?

Zevran awoke early, as he always did. And this is why he was so surprised to see the bed empty next to him.

His Warden normally did not get up before him, and when she did, she was sleepy enough to wake him in the process. She always told him that 58 was not old, not yet at least—her own father had made it to proud 73 years of age—but surely this heavy sleep was as good a sign as any of his encroaching senilitude, was it not?

Be that as it may, she would return in but a moment. Zevran stretched out long, felt something in his shoulder pop, and curled up under the warm blanket, feeling very much like a cat rolling into a tight ball on a sunlit porch.

And so he lay there, dozing, for quite a while.

And Astala didn't return.

Unease started to creep into his mind. He turned around, saw that the sun was already a hand and a half's width over the horizon, and stood up. It was not like his Warden to be up this early. It was not like her to-

It was not like her to leave her cane in the corner she had left it in the day before.

Zevran retrieved the cane as icy dread slowly trickled into his veins. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. His Warden could not comfortably go anywhere without her cane. What had happened? Where was she?

The house was empty; the garden lay likewise still. It currently was only the two of them. There was nobody who might have seen her leave. There was only one thing to do.

Zevran grabbed his daggers, a waterskin, and a hat. So armed, he set out to find his Warden. She could not have gotten very far. Why had he wasted so much valuable time dozing?

She walked and walked. It took her so long to walk. A crunch at each step, small rolling needles poking up, the bright green, soft, and sharp where it was brown.

She went up. Up to where the bright was getting higher. Up to where the world seemed to end.

She passed by one tall, brown, rough and solid with green on top. She walked around it. For a moment, it was less bright. It smelled strong. It glimmered golden.

What was his name?

She went up, further up.

The air was less bright now. There was wind. And knee-tall not-trees brushing against her. She was going up, up to where she had seen the bright bright sun rise up. The wind blew through her clothes. It was cold.

She reached the edge, where the world ended, and looked down.

There was white there, and blue, and it moved. And it roared. Like it was hungry.

Suddenly, she had to sit down.

Her leg hurt. It went down deep in front of her. Too deep. It was wet now too. Birds cried. The roar was deafening. It sounded almost like-

Like-

Suddenly, panic seized her. She stumbled backwards, away, away from that noise! Heart hammering in her chest, she turned.

When she turned, she saw only endless waving and little white in between dark and round.

Where was she?

What was this?

What was his name?

Zevran looked, left, right, and saw no trace of his wife. If only the Crows had taught him how to track a person in the wilderness! Where to now? He had to find her, before something happened. She had gotten more distant, less present for days at a time, bht he had hoped... he had hoped it would go away again, like it always did every spring once the anniversary of the Archdemon's death passed. Was she conscious of her actions? Where was she?

Left, right, scouring the landscape for any sign of his wife's brightly colored clothing.

Something white and dark caught his eye.

She had not taken her cane. Could she still be in her nightgown? Zevran was already setting in motion before he could answer that question, before he could properly contemplate it. And in that direction lay the cliffs- Sweet Mother of Mercy!

Zevran broke out into a run.

She turned.

What was his name?

She turned.

Where was she?

She saw nothing but wide and bright and nowhere to go, and she didn't know where she wanted to go, and she didn't know anything! What was going on? What was happening? Why was it so loud, why didn't it stop, where was her mama, where was she!?

What was his name?

Whose name?

"Amore!"

She turned to look.

There was somebody. Running. Running towards her!

She stumbled backwards, stumbled. Fell.

Soft and rough and hurtful below her.

What was his name?

He was running towards her. He was not bright. His hair was nice. Yes, she liked his hair.

Should she run?

Maybe she should run.

She should probably run.

Or, maybe, this was the one whose name she was searching for. Why didn't she know his name?

She gasped, suddenly. Something was very very wrong with her.

He was running towards her!

She scrambled to her feet, dashed to the side. The running man missed her by far too little.

"Amore, wait!"

She ran.

He didn't.

Instead, he called after her: "Amore! Amore, please. Stay still for a moment, my Warden!"

Her leg hurt. She stopped and turned towards him.

Slowly, the running man approached her his hair was dancing. It was nice. He didn't look happy, he looked scared. He had a stick in his hand.

Why was he scared?

What was his name?

Was it his name?

"Amore." The running man had reached her and stretched his hand out, but didn't touch her. "Where were you going, my Warden? And not even dressed."

She looked at him. What... what could she?

"My Warden?" He carefully touched her. "Are you alright?"

"Alright," she repeated. "Alright, alright."

But she was not! She was not alright! Something was wrong!

"Alright, alright, alright."

The running man looked down. "It does not seem like that to me, my love."

Love.

"Love."

The running man looked at her again, and he looked better.

"Love," she said again.

It was not his name. But it was good.

"You do remember me." The running man smiled and held his hand out. "Will you come home with me, amore?"

Did she? Would she? Where to?

She wasn't sure.

She looked at the running man, hand outstretched.

"Love?" she asked.

"Yes," he said with a smile.

She took his hand and followed him.

Zevran sat on the edge of the bed, nursing the same drink he had poured himself hours ago, and tried not to cry again.

She had followed him home. So far, so good. She had called him love, but he was no longer sure she recognized him. She was still far away and not present. Her left hip was swollen, and it evidently brought her great pain. When he had tried to alleviate the inflamation, however, or clean the wounds on her feet—how had she made all the way up to the cliff without shoes?—she had fought back, and even bitten him. Right now, she was asleep, but he couldn't leave her unattended even now. He had... he had not known what to do. He was out of his depth.

He needed help.

Perinella would surely come. So would Virel, and Eidela, but he could not rip his children out of the life they had built for themselves for forever. It was a temporary solution at best, and did not even address the real problem.

He wanted his Warden back.

Zevran felt the burn of tears in his eyes, took another sip from his drink, and cursed the Archdemon one more time.

The month Astala had spent lying in bed, not knowing where she was, who she was, and not recognizing anybody, had been one of the worst time in his life. Wynne had tended to her. He had felt completely useles. But there had been slow improvements, and his Warden had gotten better, until she had regained much of her old self. And what she had not regained had soon filled up with new life.

Now, however? This had been the most lost he had ever seen her since then, and he did not know how to bring her back. Or if she even could be brought back.

There was nothing he could do.

Nothing except take things as they came. He had always been good at that, had he not?

The things the Crows could prepare you for. Zevran chuckled to himself without humor and stood up. He had some letters to write. His children needed to know. Who knew what the next days would hold, and the next months. Who knew if Astala would ever‐

"Love?"

Zevran turned immediately. Astala was still lying on their bed, lifting only her head to look for him.

Zevran set down his glass and set out to answer.

"Zevran."

It was truly remarkable how a simple word, how the mere sound of his name on her lips could drive tears into his eyes once again. Zevran said nothing, stepped to her side and made no attempt at hiding his tears. That was his name.

She knew his name.

This story came into my house and beat me to a pulp. Hope you enjoyed

@zevraholics thank you for giving me the opportunity to make myself tear up!!

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gainingfiction · 2 years

Text

Lifetime Supply: Chapter 7

(read chapter 6 by gainerstories here)

Ryan awoke to find his gut smeared with frosting, cake crumbs littering his chest hair, and Antoine’s body wrapped around his. He reached for his phone and instinctively opened Instagram, frustrated to see that Luke still hadn’t replied to his DM.

Are you someone I can talk to about getting my snack needs met? Ryan read over his message, wondering if he should have said something different. Two weeks had passed, and his message was just hanging there, crying out for attention. Sort of like Ryan’s big, fat belly.

Ryan slowly extricated himself from Antoine’s determined cuddling, careful not to wake his sleeping fuckbuddy. Once again, the sex wasn’t anything special, but Antoine was an enthusiastic lay, and very generous with the food. In fact, he had coaxed an entire supermarket sheet cake into Ryan’s hungry gut.

Of course, sex had become a pretty different experience from what Ryan was used to. Jason was an exclusive top, and as obnoxious as he could be, he knew what he was doing in bed. Antoine, on the other hand, was a strict bottom. An eager, sniff-poppers-and-cross-your-fingers kind of bottom. Ryan had topped guys before, but the extra pounds were more of a challenge—and a turn-on—than he had anticipated. For starters, he’d lost some length to his growing fat pad. And all the weight around his hips gave each thrust more power. But he couldn’t deny enjoying the feeling of his own buttocks jiggling as he railed slender Antoine.

It was hardly the sort of sex Ryan fantasized about, but it was still a good enough release. He was surprised by the sharp contrast between their bodies. Antoine had skinny hips but a nice ass, round and firm. As he went to work, Ryan couldn’t help but notice how much wider he was, and the way his gut bounced and slapped against Antoine’s toned back. By the time the two men came, Ryan was sweating bullets and practically winded from the exertion. After that, he leaned back and let Antoine hand-feed him the rest of the cake, a messy experience that was basically as enjoyable as the fucking itself.

Once he was on his feet, Ryan stepped over the bare plastic cake tray, picking up his clothes from Antoine’s messy bedroom floor. He pulled on his underwear, the meshy fabric stretched to near-transparency over his bulging rear-end. And then he started the process—and it really was a process—of getting into his pants. Heaving, tugging, pleading, swearing, panting, sucking, and finally, after what felt like an almost biblical struggle, closing the button just below his ballooning belly.

Ryan regretted wearing a button-down. He was still bloated from the night before, and even on an empty stomach, his patterned shirt was starting to collapse under the pressure of so much flesh. He shrugged it on, feeling it pull taut over his broad back. He sucked in as hard as he could, and it buttoned, but it was a desperate sight. It was a made-in-Cambodia fast fashion shirt, and the buttons looked to be at their absolute limit. One wrong move and that thing would pop open like a can of biscuit dough. I could go for some biscuits, Ryan thought, in spite of himself.

Once he was dressed—“decent” would be an overstatement—Ryan quietly eased open the bedroom door and slipped out. Antoine’s roommate looked at him with thinly-veiled disgust over his morning bowl of granola, but Ryan ignored him, slipping out the front door. He was in the mood for some breakfast of his own.

He loaded up on fast food to tide him over on his way home, before striding into his apartment with a spring in his step. He felt good—sexed up, well fed, and ready for the day. He was pleased to see Cory making what looked like a nice, big breakfast, and he made a point of asking him to make enough for three. Or four, really, since Ryan usually ate for two.

“Damn, Ry, you’re gonna eat all of that?” Ahmed asked, when he saw Ryan’s heaping portion of waffles, pancakes, sausages and bacon. “Maybe save some for the rest of us!”

“I’m a growing boy,” Ryan said, through a mouthful of waffle. That was becoming a bit of a catchphrase, at this point. “And I—urp—worked up quite an appetite last night.” He neglected to mention that that appetite had been more than satisfied by an entire sheet cake.

“Obviously,” Ahmed said, arching an eyebrow. “You’re gonna scare off this Antoine guy if you keep this up, though.”

Ryan shrugged, taking a large bite of sausage. He pawed at his belly, conscious of how far apart the buttons gaped, revealing thick slabs of hairy fat. “He’s got some pretty specific tastes. Good taste, clearly.”

Cory chuckled, “I guess Ryan’s big appetite has an admirer.”

Ryan got a kick out of that. Clearly Cory was catching on, even if Ahmed was still in the dark about Antoine’s “unique” preferences.

“Speaking of big appetites, another box arrived for you today,” Ahmed said. “This one’s even bigger than the last one. And it’s only been a week! I thought you told them to ease up?”

“Yeah, I told him to hit the brakes. And then I got hungry, so I told him to floor it. Bigger boxes, more often.”

Ahmed’s eyes widened. “Holy shit, are you serious? Damn, you’re gonna be a whale.”

Ryan felt a little stirring. He shifted in his seat, acutely aware of how much he was starting to like comments about his expanding size.

“Well, don’t expect any more help from me,” Ahmed added. “I really gotta cool it with this bulk.”

Ryan glanced at his roommate, noticing how tight his shirt looked—and not just around his now-prominent pecs and increasingly impressive biceps. He poked Ahmed’s little beer gut. “Yeah, I’ll believe that when I see it. Besides, I don’t think Cory minds, am I right?” He looked at the slender guy across the breakfast table.

Cory blushed a little, glancing down at his own plate, which sported a single piece of toast. “I don’t mind,” he agreed.

After breakfast, Ryan tore into his Adesco box while he started on a freelance programming project. Coding was so much more enjoyable with food.

And Luke was making sure he had plenty to eat. The new boxes were twice the size of the old ones, and they arrived twice as often. Ryan felt like he was drowning in delicious, mass-produced snacks.

It wasn’t like he was trying to gain weight. He just liked food. And he was hungry all the damn time! When he and Jason had completely cut out refined sugar, he remembered Jason explaining that sugar was addictive. The more you eat, the more you crave. “And besides,” Jason had said, “Carbs aren’t filling. They’re just empty calories.” And so their relationship had been an endless parade of baked chicken breast, stir-fried tofu and other lean proteins.

Not anymore, though. Now that Ryan had started down that sugary road, paved with countless Adesco boxes, all of those restrictions and limitations were a thing of the past. He liked sugar. He liked refined carbs. He wanted more of them, all the time, as much as he could eat. And he could eat a lot.

Packing on the pounds was an inevitable side-effect. He didn’t sit down and do the math properly, but he guessed that if he was gaining almost two pounds a week with the old boxes, that number was bound to go up. But he didn’t care—clearly dreamy Luke enjoyed what he was doing to Ryan’s body, and if a guy like Luke wanted him bigger and fatter, Ryan was happy to oblige. Especially if all he had to do was sit around and eat his favourite foods from dawn until dusk.

He adapted to the new boxes quickly. At first, finishing so much food before the next box arrived was impossible. Then, it was a challenge. And after a couple of weeks, it was just a part of Ryan’s lifestyle.

Ahmed and Cory seemed stunned at how much Ryan was eating. Every waking moment he had food in his hands, and yet he still went in on whatever takeout order Ahmed was craving. And now that he had his degree, he didn’t need to go to campus anymore, which meant that his lifestyle was more sedentary than ever. He just sat on his ass, on his computer, eating and eating, gaining and gaining, month after month.

And tantalizing Luke with tales of his gluttony and growth. He was still bitter that Luke had never gotten back to his DM—so this guy would break up his relationship, but he was too high and mighty to stray from his own? But whenever Ryan’s phone lit up with that familiar 800 number, Ryan was happy to hop on and paint an increasingly lewd picture of just what Adesco was doing to him.

“Just checking in to confirm that you were satisfied with your most recent delivery,” Luke said, one day.

“Oh, man, was I ever, Luke,” Ryan said. He loved laying it on thick. He imagined Luke perched on his perfect ass in some drab little office, practically drooling into the handset of his office phone. “Those kettle chips? Mmh, better than sex.”

“Ah—um, that’s great. And you liked our new product, the hazelnut cream cakes?”

“Liked them? Luke, if you keep sending me those, I’m gonna need to reinforce my chair,” he said. “I swear, I’m like an eating machine when it comes to those boxes. You should see me going to town on those hazelnut things. Cream everywhere.”

A sharp intake of breath. “We’re so glad to hear that. And tell me about the fudge sandwich cookies, do you enjoy those?”

Ryan gave a little moan. He was glad these calls weren’t being recorded for training purposes. “Those are some of my favourites, man. Sometimes I’ll just crack open a package, and it’ll be empty in 20 minutes, flat. It’s not easy to fill this gut, you know?”

Another gasp. Ryan grinned. This kinky little fucker really did like mixing business and pleasure.

“I—that’s—sure. Right. And, uh, you’ve…” Ryan could sense Luke searching for words. “You’ve noticed your capacity has increased?”

Ryan’s grin widened, and he trailed a hand across his bountiful gut. It was firm from all the snacks he’d stuffed into it. “My capacity?”

Luke hesitated. “I mean, uh, you’re eating more? Of the snacks we send you?”

“Is that a question you normally ask?”

Luke cleared his throat. “Well, we haven’t done a prize giveaway like this since 1977. So this is uncharted territory for both of us.”

I bet it is, Ryan thought. “Yeah, my ‘capacity’ is crazy now. Before I used to have a bit of an appetite, but since I won this damn contest… I swear, Luke, I feel like I’ve eaten more this past year than I have in my whole life. And I don’t see that changing any time soon, not with the way my appetite is expanding.”

Ryan could hear Luke’s breathing through the phone. He imagined him ending the call and dashing off to the bathroom in a horny daze. “Well, we’re so glad you’re enjoying it. I’ll get a thank-you box sent to your address as soon as possible. Thank you. Good day.”

And then the call was disconnected. Ryan grinned, and reached for another bag of chips, acutely aware of the way his dick was throbbing against the underside of his belly.

#weight gain #male weight gain #gay #gaining fiction #gainer stories #realistic gain #belly #bhm #lifetime supply

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 2 years

Text

Love Song for a Vampire Pt.13

Pairing(s): Edward Cullen x Wolf!Reader, Edward Cullen x Bella Swan, Jacob Black x Bella Swan

Warnings: none

Words: 2597

Summary: You take it upon yourself to go find Bella.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39

Even when you managed to fall asleep, you were plagued by nightmares of Bella. Bloodless faces of newborns tear your pack limb from limb. All felt lost.

The following morning you awoke with dread in your chest that weighed you down into your mattress. Tomorrow was the day. So many lives were on the line and you were now allowing it to sink into you. If you all failed. . . The people of Forks and La Push would be in imminent danger and there would be no one to protect them. It would be a free for all for the newborn army, hungry after a battle.

Your parents and your friends could all be dead by the end of tomorrow. Now your side had lost the element of surprise by having Bella’s scent. Everyone was waiting for a surprise attack from Victoria.

“(Y/n)? Are you still in bed?” Your mom tentatively knocks on your door. Normally if they know you’ve been out on patrol, your parents will allow you to sleep in. Lately they could sense your anxiety and checked in on you frequently.

You roll yourself up, rubbing the heel of your palm against your eyes. Only able to get about three hours worth of sleep, you were not prepared to go out into the world. “Yes. But I’ve been awake for a while.”

The door opens and your mom’s concerned face pokes in. “Breakfast is ready. Why don’t you come out and eat with us.”

Nodding you start to slip out of bed, eyes still closed and struggling to flutter open. Once you finally do manage to wake up a bit and head toward your bedroom door, your mom gently stops you; putting her left hand against your cheek where the scab had been long gone. Now there was a dark scar that plagued your complexion.

So easy was it to read how your mom was feeling. Her eyes had always been so expressive. Now you read the deep worry that plagued her thoughts when she looked upon your face. Knowing that it was your fault made your chest throb uncomfortably. “Why don’t you call Sam and tell him to let you have the day off. You can use the rest.”

You would love nothing more than to do just that. But you couldn’t. Not now. Your pack needed everyone in attendance. “I can’t, ma.” She presses her lips together yet yields and bows her head lightly. “(Y/n), you don’t have to do this. You know that right? No matter what everyone else says, it’s your choice. Don’t put yourself in danger because you think you have to.”

A little laugh escapes you. “Ma. . . Thanks for saying that, but I don’t really have a choice. Not really. What else would I do with this gift?” Gift, you called it. But it felt more like a curse. It’s made you do things that you would have never done had you been just a normal human. Originally you had thought turning into a wolf was the coolest thing in the world. Come to learn that there was so many strings attached to it. Now it was ruining your life.

Closing her eyes, your mom gathers you into her arms. “I want you to be happy and safe, (y/n).”

If she only knew the extent of your duties. Lately you had neither been happy nor safe. Tomorrow you might not even be alive.

Negative thoughts swirled in your head like a snow globe. Knowing that you could die very soon made you cling to your mother in comfort. At least you were safe in her arms for a few moments.

You finished your breakfast just in time to catch the ring of your front door. Your dad had already been getting up to clear the table, but at the announcement of a guest he puts down the plates and hurries over.

“Afternoon Mr. (l/n).” Embry’s voice rang clear and it makes you rise and stride over to where your father stood.

“Hello Embry.” Managing an awkward smile, your dad glances at you for a moment. “That time, huh?”

“I didn’t get a call from Sam or anyone else in the pack.”

“They’re all out at the Cullen border.” Embry quietly informs you, unsure of how much to share while your dad was present. “Charlie is with them.”

You were great up that you at least had been giv en enough time to finish your.breakfast before throwing yourself back into the dangerous world of vampires and wolves. Giving your dad a brief side hug and saying goodbye to your mom, you head out with Embry.

No words had been spoken between the two of you since Edward’s phone call yesterday. Even passing the crest of the forest that lined your home, Embry remained quiet.

And when he did speak, it wasn’t about the hurt he had felt seeing you so enamored by Edward’s voice. “Charlie showed up at Billy’s a little while ago. He insists that he has a hand in the plan to save his daughter.”

“He definitely can’t join the actual fighting. The best thing he could do for us is make sure no human is around this area tomorrow.” Quietly musing, you hop over a large tree root that you used to make forts in. If you were missing, your parents always searched there first.

Embry nods. “Yeah, that’s what Sam said. But that doesn’t mean he can’t know about the plan. He just can’t participate physically.”

“So why are they at the Cullen border?”

“Best to have everyone present. Especially now since Charlie is involved. The Cullens can better explain the history leading up to Bella’s kidnapping. They have much to explain about all of Bella’s previous injuries.” When you found yourselves into the heart of the forest, both of you turn around and start to strip before changing into your wolf skin.

Once inside of your wolf, you hear the voices of your other pack members. The louder their voices grew in your head, the closer you grew to your destination. Even before then you smelled Edward’s scent. The one you try to retain each time. Vainly attempting to remember it while you went to sleep.

”Looks like (y/n) and Embry are finally here.” You heard Leah sneer.

Of course she couldn’t be nice for once. Not even when a startled Charlie accidentally bumps into her at the sight of you and Embry’s wolf forms. Recognition crosses his eyes when he takes a good look in your direction.

“You’re the one that saved me.” He acknowledges you.

Your tail sways cordially and you nod your head.

“That’s (y/n).” Carlisle smiles.

“And which one is Jacob?”

A deep russet wolf walks forward, meeting Charlie’s gaze. Cautiously, Charlie holds out his hand in front of him.

“That’s really you, Jake?”

Jacob bumps Charlie’s hand with his nose. ”Yeah, it’s me Charlie. I promise we’ll get Bella back.”

“He says that we’ll get Bella back.” Edward translates for everyone else who couldn’t hear what Jacob was thinking.

Charlie pats Jacob’s muzzle. “I know.”

You noticed how warm Charlie was toward Jacob, having his back turned to Edward and nearly treating him as if he weren’t there. Perhaps because the truth was out and Edward had failed to protect Bella from a supernatural foe that not even Charlie could deal with. He had entrusted his daughter to him. Charlie couldn’t fight this foe himself which must have frustrated the mortal man to no end.

Sympathy for Edward arose in your conscience. For such a powerful man, he looked helpless being ignored by Charlie. Bella’s kidnapping distressed him greatly; perhaps more than Charlie. For Edward did consider himself guilty. He wasn’t there to protect her. In fact, some may argue that he had brought all this danger to her because he was a vampire. If he had been normal, Bella would not have had to know this kind of world. A world where creatures drank blood to survive.

“Chief Swan.” Carlisle pulls his attention back to why they were all gathered. Human, wolf, and vampire alike. While the treaty rules were still up, at least all three of you could still manage to unite at least for Bella’s sake. Bella connected all three worlds to each other. “The confrontation with Victoria’s newborn army will be upon us tomorrow. Alice can still confirm that much. But Bella’s role in it has not been seen. We don’t know what Victoria plans for Bella.”

“Obviously nothing good.” If Jacob had his human face, you knew he’d have it scrunched up, like he thought Carlisle an idiot.

Thankfully Edward didn’t translate Jacob’s internal musing.

Charlie puts his hands in his pant pocket, perhaps out of a nervous fashion. “So you guys plan on fighting them while luring this Victoria away?”

“That was our original plan. We were going to use Bella’s scent to lure her in but now they might have the same idea.”

“Does she know about the wolves?”

“Yes. A while ago the wolves and Victoria crossed paths. But I don’t think she knows of us working together.” Carlisle admits.

Emmett, who had been unusually quiet, scoffed and narrowed his eyes at your side. “She probably thinks we’re enemies thanks to that big guy crashing into me.”

Paul snaps his jaws in Emmett’s direction. ”That leech was the one who got in my way!”

Sending Paul a silencing growl, Sam reprimands him. ”Stop acting like a child. Put aside your petty grievances.”

Having heard that prompted a small smile from Edward. Sam was giving him a little more respect since saving him.

“And Alice. . . ?” There was a tone of hopefulness in Charlie’s voice. Alice regretted shaking her head in reply.

“I can’t force my visions. They come at random. I’m sorry Charlie. . .” Alice bit her lip and darted her eyes away, unable to look at him anymore.

The man managed to maintain his calm composure although you did detect the reddening of his eyes. He didn’t let his emotions sway his actions. Something no one in your pack would be able to successfully achieve. Intense emotions sparked the wolf in you and made you do many things you would regret. The chances of saving Bella before the fight was unlikely.

Sam told the younger wolves (including yourself) to get some rest for tomorrow. He and the other seasoned pack members would be doing the patrol. How could anyone sleep with doom being held over your head? Nothing had comforted you in the conversation with Charlie. At least he would do his part in keeping any human away from the battlefield. That much he was able to do.

While Emily forced Seth to head home, you and your trio of boys go in the other direction where your homes waited. All four of you were quiet and contemplative. Quil, Jacob, and Embry hung out in the back. You noted that it had been a while since all three of them had been together. Ever since becoming part of Sam’s pack, there was a derisive split between them which saddened you. In your childhood, they had always been seen together like the Three Stooges. They were iconic among La Push. Now they were splintered.

Your parents were surprised that you were home so early, despite it only being fifteen after four in the afternoon. They were used to you coming home late at night or early in the morning.

“Is everything okay?” Your dad asks, double checking the hands on his watch. He must have just come home for work as he was now in his house slippers.

Looking at your dad, you force a small smile on your face to make his worried look disappear. “Yeah.” Once you’re safely inside of your bedroom, you sit on the floor and stare into space. Unconsciously your fingertips run along the scar on your face, your mind replaying the image of Xiomara’s contorted face and black eyes. You had been able to see your own terrified face staring back at you through her glossy eyes.

Thinking back on it always made your body begin to shake as you relive the horror. Seeing the dead body of the witch who was supposed to help you. The sounds that emitted from Xiomara’s twisted mouth as it morphed into a beak.

A cold sweat buds on your skin and you feel sick as you shut your eyes. But you could still see her. You were alive and she was dead, but Xiomara’s monstrous features never left you.

Bella came to mind suddenly.

She must be feeling the same terror. Believing that she was about to die at the hands of a hideous monster. Alone.

Like a reflex, you were on your feet and hand on the doorknob. Your heart raced. You couldn’t leave Bella like that. To wait and wonder all while suffering torment from the vampires. Feeling like a helpless child.

“Oh no.” You breathed, unable to remove your hand from the knob. “I’m about to do something stupid.” Hadn’t you learned from last night not to act hastily. But imagining Bella by herself killed you more than you thought it would. Shouldn’t you be taking this time to rejoice that they might kill her? Then you would have Edward all to yourself. You weren’t that kind of person, no matter how much you wanted not to care about her. “I’m about to do something stupid. . . I’m sorry Sam.”

Alice doubled over where she stood, her hands clamping down on either side of her head as she suppressed a cry. Jasper was at her side in seconds, helping her to sit down until it passed. She could even hear the concerned voices of her other family members. Just a piercing pain that struck her head and deafening ringing in her ears. Eyes squeezed shut, streaks like lightening rip through her mind. In them were like slow moving videos. (y/n) appeared to be the star as Alice could see her exiting a thicket of trees to come across a paved highway. She was in her human form and at first looked uncertain until she seems to confirm her actions and continues onward.

Her head pulsated when she struggled to look further, knowing that the only other occasion she had felt like this was when (y/n) was in grave danger. The future wouldn't let her though and soon the ringing in her ears faded out. Drilling in her skull slowly dissipated as well. This vision left her feeling weak, weaker than the last one. Alice was breathing heavily, allowing Jasper to mellow her.

When she opened her eyes, everyone was staring at her; only Edward knowing what was going on. He knew that stretch of highway. He had been there last night. With (y/n). She was going to find Bella by herself. Despite Sam's orders, she was going alone with no one else; taking it upon herself to rescue the girl that was her rival.

"I know where she is." Edward said quickly. He didn't want to waste anytime. This wouldn't be something she could do alone, as noble as it was. She needed help.

With her head in her hands, Alice gazes at Edward. "Hurry. Even if she is in her human form, who knows how far she'll make it before she runs into trouble."

Edward nods and in a flash he's already out the door, crossing the front lawn and into the depths of the woods.

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

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#edward cullen x reader #edward cullen fanfiction #edward cullen fanfic #edward cullen x you #twilight #twilight saga #twilight fanfiction #twilight fanfic #twilight fandom

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voraciousvore · 6 months

Text

The Giant (9/16)

------Chapter 9------

Chester woke up the next morning before me, as his belly was grumbling for breakfast since neither of us had eaten the previous night. I awoke to find myself cupped in his hand as he lifted me off his chest.

"Good morning," he yawned, "How are you feeling?"

I winced and rubbed my bandages. "I'm hurting a little bit. What about your head?"

Chester gingerly touched his own bandage. "It's throbbing, but I'll be alright." He nuzzled me gently with his gigantic face. "I'm just glad you're alive."

"All thanks to you for saving me." I patted the bridge of his nose with my hand. "Let's get some breakfast." Chester carried me to the kitchen and set me down on the counter while he whipped up some French toast. "Chester?"

"Hm?" Chester responded to my inquiry as he cracked some eggs.

"What do humans taste like?"

Chester raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Well... each individual human tastes a little different. Some better than others I suppose. Men tend to have more of a hearty flavor, like a very high-quality cut of meat. Women are more likely to be sweeter, like a fine dessert."

"What about me? What do I taste like?"

The giant got a bit flustered at this line of questioning but still answered. "You're a perfect mix of both. Sweet and savory. Probably the best human I've ever eaten." He flushed at this remark and eyed me cagily. The color drained from my face as I realized his mouth was watering, and the look he was giving me was not entirely innocent in intentions.

"We probably shouldn't discuss this topic while I'm hungry," Chester added hurriedly, averting his eyes and turning his attention back to his cooking. I silently agreed and continued watching him without speaking. Soon enough he completed the task and piled up a mountain of food on a huge platter. Almost without thinking, he placed me on top of the stack and carried the plate to the dining room table. I felt a twinge of alarm at this development. After the horrors of the day before I wasn't ready to be eaten again, not this soon. Was he expecting me to comply with his desires? I wasn't sure.

As soon as he set the plate down, I scrambled off the mound of food and onto the safer area of the table. The giant acknowledged my action with a curt nod and cut off a piece of French toast for me to munch on. He also gave me a monstrous blueberry that was the size of a beanbag chair. Sighing in relief that I was not about to be devoured, I ate my breakfast while he dug into his meal with his usual voracity. I appreciated that he was willing to respect my wishes in spite of his carnivorous urges. Not to mention, it was mostly my fault that I had warmed up his appetite in the first place with my naïve questions. I made a mental note never to broach the subject before the giant was about to eat.

Once Chester had thoroughly cleaned his plate, we went to his study so he could get some writing done. I picked one of my new magic books to read and Chester opened it to the first page for me, then got to typing. The book was written by giant scholars who could not themselves use magic, so it was mostly secondhand information gleaned from old documents, witness accounts, and interviews with human wizards in the distant past, who may or may not have been under duress when passing along the information, with some speculation thrown in. From what I read, there were lots of different types of magic and spells. Not every human was capable of using magic, and even those who could may not be able to cast all categories of spells. The individual had to have a particular aptitude, or consume a special concoction that would grant him magical power. Additionally, a new magic user required the use of a special object such as a staff or wand to channel energy.

Essentially, most magic could be broken down into traditional elemental classifications, such as fire, lightning, water, ice, earth, wind, light, and shadow. There were other oddball categories like blood and metal as well. Even if the spell itself did not explicitly express an element, the underlying type of magic involved had some sort of elemental basis. For example, a healing spell might have light or blood magic as a base, depending on the spellcaster's aptitude.

The book contained a list of ingredients and known methods by which a human could obtain magical abilities. As I scanned through them, I noticed that many were extremely specific and wildly impractical, or were things I had never heard of: for instance, metal magic required a mysterious substance called "milk of magnesia." Interestingly enough, the power of lightning could be unlocked by getting struck with magical lightning, which had happened to me when I was transported to the Land of Giants. So, lightning may be a good choice for me to start with. Blood magic looked like another promising option, since it necessitated the human in question to drink the blood of a giant or unicorn--obviously the former was readily available, not so much the latter.

According to the text, for a novice such as myself, a magical object would still be needed for me to access my potential powers. The book provided a catalogue of materials that would suffice to craft such an object, none of which I recognized. Perhaps Chester would know. Alternatively, magical powers could manifest in circumstances when the spellcaster was under extreme duress or in a life-threatening situation. The aspiring wizard would need to practice drawing out their powers with meditation or chants beforehand. A combination of all these methods may be required for some people, if they were not naturally inclined to using magic.

Since the book was written for giants, not humans, it had pertinent information for them as well. The book sternly cautioned against eating wizards alive, since their abilities were dangerous enough to destroy a giant from the inside. Apparently in the past some scholars had theorized that giants could gain magical powers from consuming human wizards, but this belief was proven false, as no giant had ever been able to use magic, even after filling their bellies with wizards. I took some comfort in the fact that if I ever did learn to use magic, I could save myself from being digested if a giant swallowed me again, a circumstance that seemed likely given I had already been eaten twice now. I was extremely lucky to still be alive at this point.

Engrossed in my book, I failed to notice that Chester had ceased typing and was watching me read, until he gave a small cough to get my attention. I turned around and craned my head back to look up at him.

"Learn anything interesting?" he asked me with a slight tilt of his head.

"Absolutely," I answered enthusiastically. "Actually, I wanted to ask you about something on one of the previous pages over here." Chester observed as I walked over to the opposite side of the book and struggled to turn back the oversized pages. With a small smile, he reached out his giant hand and flipped to the page I wanted with minimal effort.

"Here." I pointed to the materials for crafting a magical object. "Do you know what any of these are?" Chester perused the list with a furrowed brow.

"Most of these I'm not familiar with," he admitted as he skimmed the page. "However..." He planted his finger, thick as a tree trunk, on one of the entries. "This one here. Lapis lazuli. It's a type of stone, should be pretty easy for us to get."

"Great. If I obtain that stone, I could make a necklace or bracelet with it. Then I might be able to use magic," I explained to Chester.

"Ok." He paused for a moment. "Do you want me to go to the market now to buy some? You probably shouldn't come with me though..." His face fell.

"Y-yeah, that's fine. Definitely for the best," I replied quietly. As I recalled the horrible memories of that last encounter, I couldn't stop myself from quaking uncontrollably. In response, Chester reached down and cradled me in his hands.

"Shhhh, it's okay. You're safe now. I'll protect you," the giant cooed in a soothing voice. He pressed his plush lips against me in a soft kiss. "I won't let anything happen to you." I nodded, blinking back tears. He held me against his chest for a few minutes, rocking back and forth gently. Once I calmed down, he put me back on the desk and opened another book for me to read. Then, he left the house, which felt eerily quiet without his massive form moving around. I settled in and began reading while I waited for him to come back.

I'm not sure how much time passed, because I was immersed in my books again, but I did notice that the sky was becoming soft outside and Chester still hadn't returned. The other book I had been reading went into details about specific spells, the type of magic required for their use, and how to cast them. Apparently, spells were not truly based on fancy hand movements or incantations: These devices could aid a wizard in visualizing a spell in his mind, but were not actually a part of the spell. Mostly the process involved drawing up the correct form of magic and willing it to life through force of mind. Sounded mysterious.

I decided to try some of the tips given for magical meditation. All of the books so far confirmed that force of mind or will would strengthen with focused introspection. I laid down on my back, closed my eyes, and daydreamed for a while. I must have fallen asleep because next thing I knew I heard the front door open and close. Chester walked into the study carrying a bag of fast food. Immediately I noticed he seemed off. His face was pale, he had a new bruise on his forearm, and his clothes looked ruffled.

"What happened Chester? Are you okay?"

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it." He sounded tired. I decided not to push the issue. The giant brought his hand down and lifted me up so I was still lying flat in his palm. I looked up at him with dreamy eyes. Even when he looked disheveled, I still found him strikingly handsome. He was deep in thought and distracted, not focused on me. Rather than eating in the dining room like we usually did, Chester went to the living room and plopped down on the couch, kicking up his feet on the coffee table. He dropped me on the couch next to him and turned on the TV. He dug into the bag of fast food and stuffed a handful of greasy fries into his mouth. After handing me a piece of fry and a chunk of his burger, he wolfed down more fries and demolished the rest of the burger. I ate my food in silence and watched him with concern. While it was normal for the giant to eat aggressively, he appeared to be distressed in some way. I debated internally whether to ask him about his mood, but he was the one who spoke first.

"Jackie, why do you want to learn magic so much?"

I was not expecting this question but realized there much be some weight to it, considering his mood. I chose my words carefully but answered honestly. "Learning magic is the only way for me to get back to the human world where I belong."

"I see." There was a long pause. I searched his face high above me and to my surprise he looked dreadfully sad. Almost as if he would cry. He tried to hide it by quickly standing up and mumbling something about needing to wash the grease off his hands. He went to the kitchen and left me alone on the couch. Since I was so small compared to the furniture, I couldn't see him at all over the arm of the couch. What was he so upset about? I didn't understand.

When he came back into the room, I expected him to sit back down on the couch, but instead he turned off the TV and remained on his feet. In the darkness I wasn't able to see his expression, just his gargantuan form standing over me. He leaned down and cupped me in his hands. He took me into the bedroom, where we undressed for bed. The pale moonlight coming in through the window gave everything a soft glow. Chester laid on his side and brought me to his chest. I snuggled up to his mountainous frame, enjoying the warm softness of his giant body. He hadn't said a word but I could still tell he was upset. I decided to try talking to him once more.

"Chester, what's wrong? Talk to me."

He didn't answer right away, instead opting to hold me tighter against his chest. I felt his heart rate quicken. Finally, he spoke up. "I don't... I don't want to lose you."

"What do you mean?"

He sighed heavily. "I don't want you to leave. I'm afraid that if you go to the human realm, you won't want to come back, and I'll never see you again."

I looked up at his face. "Chester... you know I can't stay here forever."

He gazed down at me sadly. "I know. I didn't want to tell you, but I ran into that other giant at the market again. That's why I came home so late. I had to fight him off, and take a roundabout way home so he wouldn't find out where I live."

I shivered at the thought of that horrible giant. Chester sighed again. "I know it's not safe for you in the Land of Giants. I know you have a life back at home, friends and family. I have no doubts that you would be better off living with your kind. But..." He swallowed hard. "You have to understand, I was so lonely, living up here by myself in the woods all this time. And then you came along, a blessing from the sky, a tiny little woman who could fit in the palm of my hand. So sweet and kind, even forgiving me when I had a lapse in judgement and swallowed you. I guess what I'm trying to say is... I think I'm in love with you."

I stared up at Chester in shock. I had secretly harbored feelings for him, but I didn't think he would seriously consider me, an insignificant little human, as a love interest. While he had given me obvious signs of his love, I had dismissed them as wishful thinking on my part and forced down my own feelings. The idea of a human and a giant in a romantic relationship was absurd, and I had felt ashamed of myself for even entertaining it. And yet... his big heart had mirrored mine the whole time.

I jumped out of his hand and clambered up his pillow to his face. When I reached his full lips, I gave him a passionate kiss, the best I could muster despite the vast size difference between us. Even in the moonlight I could see the bloom of pink on his cheeks in response.

"Oh Chester... I love you too! More than anything! I didn't know you felt the same way," I confessed breathlessly. "You need not fear, I won't abandon you." I climbed onto the side of his face and nuzzled his cheek. "Just because I want to see my family doesn't mean I won't come back. After all, if I'm able to manifest portals I should be able to go back and forth as I please."

Chester raised his hand to his face and caressed me with his fingers. "Thank you... I feel so much better now." His eyes were glassy with tears. I curled up on his cheek, under the warmth of his hand, and petted the side of his face. With our hearts full, we fell asleep together.

Chapter 10

Chapter 1

#g/t angst #gt angst #g/t fluff #gt fluff #g/t #giant #giant/tiny #tiny #g/t writing #giant tiny #size difference #gianttiny #gentle giant #the giant

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starlightandsouls · 2 years

Text

1+1=4

Summary: You find out that you and Azriel are about to have a baby. The two of you were happier than ever since this was nothing short of a blessing considering how rare children are amongst Fae. But what will happen when both your careers get in the way?

Word count: 6k

Warnings: Fainting, sickness(nausea), pregnancy, kidnapping

Part 2

Being the mate of the night court’s spymaster came with many benefits. You got to spend your long life with the most beautiful, loving male in existence and along with him you got an equally adoring family who had taken you in you in as one of their own. It was an honour and a privilege to be part of the high lord's inner circle and you were extremely grateful for it as well, even if they did get really annoying and loud sometimes. But hey, what family isn’t like that?

But it was smaller moments like this that made your heart grow ten times its size. The first inkling of dawn had started showing in the sky, endless black giving way to brilliant, serene blues. You and Azriel were wrapped up in each other, limbs entangled in the soft silk sheets. A night full of roaming hands and breathless cries had reduced you both to a limbless mess that breathed in tandem, trying to get some rest after spending the entire night awake.

Azriel's head was tucked into your neck. He lay on top with both his arms wrapped around you. Your hands made slow, comforting passes in his hair and back, careful to avoid his wings, wanting to give the poor male a break after the night’s frenzy.

It way almost ten when you awoke. Unsurprisingly, your mate’s side of the bed was already made up, and cold. Azriel had obviously woken up long before you to go about his daily tasks. That man and his routine. Even a century hadn’t been enough for you to change that. However the absolutely mouth watering smells coming from the kitchen told you that your mate was busy preparing breakfast. Your heart swelled. It never failed to make your heart melt how considerate Azriel was. The little things he did for you made you love the man even more.

Pulling on his shirt from last night, you walked out of your room to the kitchen below. And low and behold, there he stood. Your mate was clad in nothing but loose trousers, chest laid bare for you to stare at. His hair was all ruffled up, partially due to your roaming hands from last night, but it only seemed to make him even more adorable. He didn’t turn to you but you knew he was aware of your presence due to the small shadow that raced out to wrap itself around your wrist.

You walked over to hug your mate from behind. His soothing scent instantly calmed your very being.

“Look who finally woke up,” he remarked. It was a testament to the fact that you knew him so well, you could feel the smile blooming on his face without even opening your eyes.

“Well I was getting rather hungry in bed. And my mate is just such a talented cook, all these aromas are making my mouth water.”

“Is that all I am good for?” he snapped back, a mock frown on his face. Eyebrows furrowing in a way that you had always found cute.

“Hmmm there’s that handsome, handsome face of yours as well,” you started but were interrupted by your own shriek as Azriel turned around and picked you up.

“You naughty, naughty little minx. Why must you always be like this?” he said as he put you down on the counter. Despite his remarks, smiled down at you fondly. Cupping your face in his hands, he kissed your forehead and your heart exploded. It always did whenever Azriel did this. With everyone else he was always so reserved and quiet but with you he was so open and expressive. He always wore his heart on his sleeve and his glistening, gold-hazel eyes always held such love and adoration whenever he looked at you.

The two of you spent the morning just like that; wrapped up in each other, enjoying the delicious arrays of food your mate had prepared. No matter how much you would have loved to spend the entire day with your mate in bed, you knew the two of you had to leave for the House of Wind soon. Cassian would have both your asses if you didn’t show again, especially yours, since he thought you were mostly to blame for keeping Az away from the training ring. If only he knew of his brother’s greedy hands and even naughtier shadows.

Nonetheless you both got ready after a long, long shower. This time however you were truly to blame. Azriel’s glorious body laid bare before you was just too much temptation for you to ignore. Now you sat on the bed, braiding your hair as Az strapped up all his knives. You were too clad in your own leathers and stood to join him when a sudden wave of nausea rolled over you.

At first you thought your head must be spinning because of getting up too fast but then the wave returned once again, ten times stronger now. All of a sudden you had the urge to throw up all your breakfast. Before you could so all over your bedroom floor, you rushed to the bathroom. You had barely reached the toilet when your body decided to hurl your guts out. Everything you had ate came rushing out as you threw up with your head in the toilet seat. A second later you felt your mate’s steady arms around you, his hands gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

After what seemed like ages, you stopped throwing up. Although the sick, nauseous feeling didn’t pass so you lingered there some while more, in case you threw up again. You got up, with Azriel’s arms wrapped around you because you were sure you would fall if you tried to stand on your own.

He sat you down on the bed and kneeled before you, running his hands up and down your arms in an attempt to soothe you.

“Hey, are you okay? What happened?” Az inquired, concern etched across his face. Great. You hated it when he worried so much, about you or anyone else. Leave it you to ruin last night’s good mood.

“I don’t know Az. It just... came over me all of a sudden,” you replied slowly, not having the energy to even form full sentences.

Your head was spinning so bad. Everything was blurred. Putting your feet up, you laid back on the pillow and closed your eyes, trying to appease your aching head. When it didn’t work, you turned to your mate. Azriel was still kneeling in his previous position, the worry flowing from him through the bond melted your heart. Knowing Azriel, he would make you stay in bed all day just so he could take care of you and make sure you were okay. And while that thought was extremely endearing, you were also aware of your mate’s innate anxiousness. He would worry himself a fever of his own if he stayed home all day. So you sat up and got ready to leave once again,

“Well whatever it was, I’m fine now. Let’s go. We’re late already and you know Cassian’s going to start whining if we’re not there soon.”

But Azriel grabbed your arm before you had even gotten up fully and instead started reprimanding you,

“There is no way you’re going to train today. You’re sick, you should rest. I’ll go get Madja as well.”

You knew this would happen. And you also knew that convincing Azriel would be a nightmare. But you truly wanted to go to training today. You missed training with the Valkyries, despite Cassian’s incessant whining.

“Az, I’m fine. I swear. It was just morning sickness, probably because of something I ate..”

Instantly Azriel’s eyes widened. It took you to a second to realize just what you had said, and before you could take back your words, Azriel shot out, voice laced in panic,

“Are you saying the food I made, made you sick?! But... I ate it as well...Everything was fresh..”

“No, no, no. Azriel, baby that’s not what I meant. There was nothing wrong with breakfast alright? It was delicious. If anything I probably ate too much of those heavenly waffles of yours,” you tried to convince him.

“So let me go and get Madja. She’ll tell us for sure what happened,” he repeated.

“Azriel, I promise I’m fine. Truly. Come on, let’s go.”

Azriel didn’t say anything but his eyes showed crystal clear just how much he wanted to protest. At this moment, concern was ebbed into every inch of his beautiful face. And you hated it.

“Az, please. I know you’re worried, but I am completely okay. Whatever that was, it’s gone now. And training is only going to make me feel better. You know how Cassian always says, being active is always the best cure.”

“So you’re quoting Cassian now? I never thought I would see this day,” Azriel taunted.

“Ugh, I am using Cassian’s lines aren’t I? Please don’t tell him. He would never let me live it down,” you begged. You knew Cassian’s ego would become bigger than the mountains around Velaris. Azriel sighed,

“You’re such a hypocrite you know? If I was sick you would have locked me up at home and forced me to rest.”

“That’s because you always push yourself beyond your limits and burn yourself out. I, on the other hand, am perfectly rested and just threw up once,” you tried to reason. Azriel took a minute before asking,

“You promise you’ll take it easy? And you’ll let me know if you get tired?”

“Yes. Yes. I swear.”

Azriel took your hands in his before kissing them both and stood to winnow the two of you to the House of Wind.

...................................................................................................

As you had expected, Cassian had started yelling as soon as the two of you walked in.

“You know I can’t really think of anything that was so important that you two had to show up an hour late,” the general barked out.

In response you only smirked and replied,

“I can think of a few things, but I can imagine why you can’t.”

Nesta and the others snickered in the corner and so did Azriel before Cassian told you to go warm up. He was deciding what to practice today with Azriel in a corner while you stretched with the girls. All the while you could feel your mate’s watchful gaze. Rolling your eyes, you turned to yet again reassure him that you were fine when you saw his expression turn sour, before he said something to Cassian who only nodded and moved over to the girls waiting. Curious, you walked over to Azriel to ask why he wasn’t joining you guys for training today,

“Everything alright?”

“It’s Rhys. He wants me to go to Ironcrest with him for a meeting,” Az replied dismally. You were well aware of your mate’s aversion of the Illyrian camps and had even worked with him to get over that strong hate of his. And he seemed to be getting over it slowly as well so this moodiness really confused you.

“It’s only for a day, Az. You’ll be fine you big bat,” you joked, trying to lighten his mood.

“It’s not that...” If it wasn’t the Illyrians bothering him, then what was...Oh.

“Azriel, darling. How many times do I have to tell you, I am fine. Do you want me to write it down for you?”

Azriel shot you a glare at your words. You knew he was worried but going to Ironcrest might actually be good for him. If anything it would take his mind off of what happened this morning.

“Are you sure you’re alright? Truly?” he asked slowly. You only nodded.

“And you’ll tell me if you feel sick again?”

“Yes, Azriel. Now go work you overbearing bat!” you answered.

Azriel kissed you one last time before winnowing away. You slowly walked over to the others when Cassian remarked,

“The two of you are really useless whenever you’re together, just like a bunch of horny teenagers!”

Feeling particularly snarky, you shot back,

“Why must you take your frustrations out on the rest of us just because you don’t get any action Cassian.”

Later you would find that perhaps you should have kept your mouth shut. Perhaps you shouldn’t have taunted your general and trainer so much. As it turns out Cassian’s response to your jokes would not be another taunt, no, no. That sadistic son of a bitch made all of you train five times harder than you usually did. More laps to be run, more obstacle courses, basically more of everything.

Everyone was getting tired and you could feel some of the priestesses throw you some nasty glares, probably because they blamed you for today’s extra work. Even Gwyn and Nesta, the ones with the biggest mouths, had said,

“You just couldn’t keep quite could you.” As a response, you had only shrugged and continued your exercise.

Now Cassian was having all of you run laps around the training arena, which seemed to expand after every lap. Your legs started to numb and you were becoming more light headed by the second. And you had promised Azriel to take it easy today. Maybe the Shadowsinger was right. Maybe you couldn’t be trusted to take care of yourself.

So after what seemed like your hundredth lap around the arena, you walked over to Cassian. The task difficult in and of itself. By now you were sweating buckets and you could swear your vision was blurring.

“C'mon Cass. I’m sorry okay? We’ve had enough for the day, everyone’s tired. We can train more tomorrow,” you tried to reason with the general.

“You should of thought of that before running your mouth,” he snapped.

“Then let us take a break...”

“Nope. And last I checked you still have ten laps left,” Cassian threw back without remorse.

“Cass I’m serious. I’m really tired. At least let me get some water,” you cried.

“Like I said, ten more laps. Then you can get your water,” Cassian said shortly. Frustrated and tired, you merely flipped him off before running to join the others.

You had managed only one more lap when it happened. Everything was blurred all of a sudden, the voices around you too muffled to comprehend. Your legs numb, too weak to hold up your weight. Darkness started creeping up in the corners of your vision. A sharp pain pierced through your abdomen and you hit the ground.

Nesta had been the one closest to you and had just turned around to make a joke about your slow speed when she saw you crumple to the floor. Yelling your name, she ran to your side.

Upon reaching you, she saw how drained you looked. Your skin that was always glowing and sun kissed was now too pale to be normal. Despite the scorching heat you were cold to the touch. Fear coursed through her very being as she yelled for Cassian on the other side of the arena. Hearing her anguished cry, Cassian turned to them and his eyes widened at the sight before him. The general had been beside them in an instant and after trying to shake you awake, had picked you up and flew you down to the House to get Madja. The valkyries not far behind him.

All the while, guilt and fear seemed to take turns gnawing at his heart. You had told him you were tired, that you needed a break. He had done this to you. Shit. Azriel was going to kill him. After five centuries he was going to die at his brother’s hand. It wasn’t the worst death possible per se. If Azriel went easy on him, that is. Which he probably wouldn’t.

...................................................................................................

Azriel knew something was wrong as soon they walked out of the suffocating cabin of the Illyrian lords. An ice cold feeling rushed through him and his heart felt as if it had been stabbed with an ashwood arrow. The feeling nearly making him lose his balance as he grabbed the nearest railing for support. His mind jumped to all the worst conclusions. The bond between him and his mate was pulled tight as if trying to hold itself together. The complete and utter silence from you didn’t help either. He quickly sent a message to Rhys that he was leaving and without waiting for a reply, winnowed back to Velaris.

As soon as he arrived, he rushed to where his shadows told him. Instead of seeing you, he was met with Cassian and Nesta, along with Gwyn and Emerie. Nesta opened her mouth to say something but he beat her to it,

“What happened?” His tone laced with deadly iced, only concerned with the well being of his mate, nothing else. It was Nesta who answered yet again,

“Well we were training and running laps when she fainted. She must have gotten tired...”

Although he interrupted her once again as he turned to Cassian and spat at him,

“Damn it Cassian! I asked one thing from you. One fucking thing. I told you to take it easy on her today!”

The general didn’t even have the courage to look his brother in the eye, knowing full well that it was because of him that the woman, who was by all means his sister, was in this state. Although his silence only seemed to enrage the Shadowsinger even more. Azriel moved to probably punch the shit out of him when the door opened and Madja walked out.

Azriel was by her side in a second, asking a thousand questions. But Madja silenced him by only saying,

“She’s perfectly alright Azriel. Go, she’s waiting for you.”

Madja left soon after ushering the rest of them along, without saying anything more to Azriel, only giving him a kind smile. This confused the male even more. Surely if anything was wrong, the healer would have let him know right? While it should have reassured him, the tension slammed back into him like a tidal wave when he re-entered the room and saw you staring blankly at the wall, your hand bunched up in the sheets. Immediately he was by your side. The anxiousness only increased when he put his hands around your face to get your attention but you still stayed silent.

“Darling what’s wrong?” he asked apprehensively. Silence.

“You’re scaring me, love. What did Madja say? Is everything alright? Do you want to see another healer? I can...”

Your heart had dropped when Madja had given you the news. Although you still hadn’t decided whether it had been in a good way or bad way. It’s not like you didn’t want kids. On the contrary, you loved children and had always wanted some of your own. It was just...honestly you don’t even know what’s bothering you. The war with Hybern had been over for almost ten years now. Prythian has been relishing in hard won peace. Sure there were small conflicts here and there between the courts, but even those were on a diplomatic level.

But still... both your jobs were highly dangerous, especially Azriel’s. It was an honour to work for the High Lord of the Night Court, but it came with an inevitable list of enemies who would go to any length to hurt you or your mate. Was it even safe to have a child in such conditions? Was it even fair considering they could be orphaned any day?

And Azriel...what would he think? Would he want this? The two of you had many conversations about having children but it was always in the distant future, never a set time. Some day. Some year. Never had the two of you actually decided when you would start trying.

“I’m pregnant,” was all you let out, in a whisper so low he almost thought he had imagined it. Almost.

“What?”

“I...I’m pregnant,” you repeated.

It was his turn to go silent now. This was... not what he had been expecting. However his silence seemed to have instilled a certain fear in you as you pulled your hands away from him instantly. God, he was an idiot.

You not only pulled your hand away but physically recoiled as you got up and started pacing the room. He remained still where he was. Pregnant. You were pregnant. His mind was thinking a million different things at the same time, trying to process the news you had just given him. It wasn’t like he was against having children. Not at all. It was just that the news was so sudden and had come out of nowhere. But he soon realised he needed to push his own uncertainty aside as he saw tears making their way down your face.

He was instantly at your side, bringing you once again to sit at the bed.

“Hey, its okay. You’re fine. Everything’s fine,” he tried reassuring you. But as a result you only cried harder.

“Darling, what’s wrong? Are you not happy? You don’t have to do this if you feel like you’re not ready...”

“What? No! No. I thought you... I thought you weren’t happy because you didn’t say anything,” you cried out.

“Of course I want this. I’ve wanted a family with you ever since we first got together. I was just shocked, that’s it. Of course I’m happy you idiot!” he exclaimed before leaning forward and kissing your forehead. The two of you stayed like that for God knows how long; hands intertwined and foreheads together.

“We're having a baby,” he whispered, like a secret. A secret so sacred that the thought of sharing it felt like sacrilege.

“We’re having a baby,” you whispered right back.

...................................................................................................

While the two of you were happier than you had ever been, and it was increasingly difficult to contain said happiness, you both decided that you would keep this from everyone else. At least for the time being. You had made the excuse that you hadn’t been sleeping well which is why you had passed out from exhaustion. Whether or not they had believed you was another story altogether. Although considering everyone knew of how often you and your mate got busy with your activities, the excuse wasn’t entirely unbelievable.

The two of you stayed home together, too overjoyed and overwhelmed with the news to deal with anyone right now. The brilliant orange and yellow of the sky were giving way to the endless black of the night sky as the stars started to appear from behind the clouds. The two of you simply held each other in bed, trying to process and come to terms with the events of the day.

Bringing a baby into this world was a huge deal... the responsibility, the risks. It was all so much. To say you were terrified would be an understatement. But Azriel wanted this and so did you. After the two of you had processed the initial shock, he had kissed you hard and told you just how happy he was, how he was going to be at your side no matter what. It wasn’t like you were having second thoughts, no, you were just scared and uncertain of your abilities.

You turned to look over at your mate. Even though his eyes were closed, you knew he wasn’t sleeping. The moonlight filtering in from the windows cast an ethereal glow over him and made him look even more beautiful than usual, which you didn’t think was possible. Azriel was perfect, in every way that mattered. Even if he disagreed. To you Azriel was the beauty of angels personified for the world to enjoy.

He slowly opened his eyes and took you in,

“Why aren’t you sleeping my love?,” he asked.

“Just thinking,” you answered, intertwining your hands in his. Running your fingers through the scars and ridges, you brought his hand to your mouth and placed a delicate kiss on his knuckles. Though you didn’t miss the shudder that went through him as you did.

“About what?”

“Everything I guess...”you murmured, “Like how are we going to tell everyone?”

“Cauldron, they’re all going to freak out,” Azriel groaned.

“Especially Cassian and Rhysand. Those two are going to go nuts,” you laughed out, truly amused as you tried to imagine your family’s reaction. You knew the two Illyrians would go ballistic at the thought of becoming uncles. Considering the two of you are the first out of the inner circle to have children, it’s not completely unrealistic that they would all be excited.

“Maybe we should just tell Cassian. He would go crazy over it and go tell everyone else. We wouldn’t even have to do anything,” you offered but were met with only silence.

You turned to your mate and saw all the mirth that was there only a few seconds ago, was gone. Now his eyes looked hollow and deep in thought. Despite him not saying anything, you could practically hear the screws twisting and turning in his head, a tell tale sign that he was overthinking. Not wanting to startle him, you nudged him lightly to get his attention,

“What’s wrong, Az? And don’t say nothing,”

He simply turned to you with his sad gaze. The two of you were now laying on your sides, facing each other. You brought your hand to his cheek to comfort him and were relieved when he leaned into the touch. He simply stared at you, as if trying to peer into your soul. Although he didn’t have to try too hard if he ever wanted to. The mating bond the two of you shared was an ever-growing bridge of light between your very beings. After a moment of silence he spoke up,

“I’m scared, my love.”

“I’m scared too darling but I know we can do this together. We..”

“No, you don’t get it. I have no doubts that you’ll be an amazing mother. You’re brave and kind and intelligent... you’re amazing. I... I’m worried I won’t be a good father,” Azriel stated simply. And it was his resigned tone that worried you. As if he truly believed he would be a bad father.

“Why would you ever think something like that?”

“Well it’s not completely unthinkable now is it?” he put forward dejectedly. “I mean you know how my father was. No matter how much I try to deny it, I am his son aren’t I? Who’s to say I won’t turn out like him?”

Your heart dropped to your stomach. It seemed unthinkable yet inevitable that Azriel’s mind would wander down that road of self loathing and doubt. In an instant you removed yourself from his embrace and sat up. Turning to him and taking his hands in yours you said,

“Azriel, listen to me. You are nothing like that man. You never have been and never will be. You’re so kind and brave.”

“But what if I am? You know me, you know the things I’ve done, the things I’ve been seen. What if after everything that I have been through, something has broken inside me? What if I become like him.” Azriel laid out all his worries and fears, and each one ripped your soul to shreds. It pained you to see the man you loved, who you thought to be the Mother’s blessing to you, think of himself as such.

“You’re right Az. I do know you. And it is because I know you that I am saying that you are nothing like that monster. Someone like your father wouldn’t love and care for me as you do, wouldn’t be so devoted and loyal to his family like you. You’re perfect as you are my darling. You are not broken. I can say this without a shadow of a doubt because I know your soul, Azriel. It’s bright and warm and loving, just like you. It may have a few cracks but so does mine and so does everyone else’s. But you know why I’m not afraid of that? Because I know you will be there to hold me together if I ever fall apart, just like I would for you, darling.”

Tears made their way down Az’s face. Adoration and gratitude shining in his eyes. You had been aware of Azriel’s self depreciating tendencies even before the mating bond clicked for the either of you. Even then, when the two of you were nothing more than close friends, you had vowed to yourself that you would help Azriel overcome this pointless hatred and see just how brilliant he was.

“I love you, you know that? I love you, Always and Forever,” Azriel whispered between tears. Your heart swelled as Azriel repeated your mating vow. One that has always been special out of all the others.

“Always and Forever,” you mirrored back against his lips as he pulled you in for another kiss. And just like that Azriel spent the entire night reminding you just how much he loved you, the mating bond between your very souls glowing like a bridge of pure light.

....................................................................................................................

Now when all is said and done, you wished you had listened to Azriel. You wish you had not been so damn stubborn for just once in your life and had stayed home. But no. You just had to be thick headed and difficult. It had been almost a week since the two of you found out about the pregnancy and no one else knew yet, your shields had ensured that. Azriel had been by your side for every second of the day and it had been all the more endearing, seeing him so flustered and concerned. Concerned, but happy. He had also been indirectly putting off any missions outside of Velaris. Between your break from training and his from his work, it had become a running gag between the two of you. At night you would retreat to your home and laugh about how long it would take for your family to figure it out.

You had insisted to go out to Velaris with Nesta. The two of you had been wanting to visit a new bookstore that had just opened in the Rainbow. Rumour has it, it held some of the steamiest romance novels in the city, which had pulled the two of you in like moths to a flame. What you hadn’t been aware was that fire pulled in other things as well. Things one would do anything to avoid.

Having purchased nearly half the store, the two of you were well worn out. Well that and you remembered that you had promised Azriel you would stop if you felt yourself beginning to tire, which is why the two of you stopped at a cafe to have lunch. If Azriel had so much of a speckle of doubt that you were over straining yourself, that fussy mother hen wouldn’t let you go anywhere alone for the next nine months. Perhaps you should have shared his sentiments. Perhaps it was you taking this utter blessing for granted that had led to this.

It all happened so fast that you don’t even recall what exactly did happen. Nesta had gone to order the two of you some ice cream and brownies from the cafe while you sat at the table outside with your books, giving your sore feet some well desired rest. However the heat started getting to your head and the though of the absolutely exquisite, freezing chocolate ice cream felt as relieving as an oasis in a desert. Riddled with impatience, you threw your bag in a corner and stood to follow the brunette into the cafe.

You had taken merely a couple steps from your table when a pair of arms wrapped around you. Your body froze at the intrusion and before you could scream, the instigator clasped their hand over your mouth, rendering you speechless. Thrashing against them proved pointless, not that you wanted it to escalate to a physical fight. Though you would have had no qualms about teaching this bastard a lesson, you knew things were now different. You could not risk your baby no matter what. As a second resort you tried to call on your powers but an ice cold rush of fear went through your body when nothing came. Nothing. You could feel nothing. Not an ounce of that soaring spark you always felt as your power flew to the surface.

Fear became a tangible, living force that crept over you like some hungry beast, immobilizing you; your brain, holding you captive. You were paralysed as you realised you couldn’t escape. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not when you and your mate had just gotten this good news.

As a pathetic last resort, you thrashed against the person holding you once again, a cry of panic made its way out but was muffled once again. All of a sudden a piece of cloth was put to your face. Disgusted by the utter stench of it, you tried to recoil but were only pushed further into it. Whatever it was, it was working. In the end you had been right. It really was too dangerous for you and Azriel to have a baby. The two of you had too many enemies, though some distant part of your mind wondered which one you were faced with now, and how they had found out. Your muscles started numbing and your vision darkened.

And everything went black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @mooncleaver @cheshmetkoshgele @elegantranchcowboytree @bibliophilelife124

#azriel fanfic #azriel #acotar hc #acotar headcanon #azriel headcanon #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #acotar x reader #azriel headcanons #azriel acotar #dadriel

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fwtomura · 6 months

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Breathe Into Your Hungry Appetite

cw: ghostsoap (simon riley x john mactavish), modern au, drug dealer au, mentions of weed, eventual smut, that’s abt it.

CHAPTER TWO, CHAPTER THREE

this is my first time posting on fucking tumblr so don’t give me shit for this😞😞 this fic is abt drug dealer soap and buyer simon where they’re got a ton of sexual tension but don’t really know how to act on it without the help of weed :3 !

Mornings were never a favorite time of day for Simon Riley. Eleven o‘clock could hardly even be considered morning, but it was by his standards. He awoke with that same dull, aching pain in his lower back. He wasn’t able to tell if it was from sleeping weirdly or his mattress that was nearly half his age at this point, but he didn’t entirely care regardless.

Whatever the reason, his joints still ached as he sat up to stretch, pushing the blankets off of his body to form a messy pile in the empty side of his bed. His feet met the carpet before he stood up, prompting his lazy shuffle towards the bathroom as he rubbed the residual sleep from his eyes.

He didn’t spare a thought towards his unmade bed. What the hell was the point of making it if he was just going to sleep on it and mess it up again?? He went through the motions of the rest of his morning routine; brushing his teeth, splashing a bit of water on his face to wake himself up fully, and getting a comb through his hair just enough to make it look a bit less of a mess than usual before he went back into his room to smoke a bowl. He was running low on his weed. He made a mental note to message Soap about it later.

He’d only been smoking for the last year or so after some encouragement from his brother, Tommy. God only knows how much Tommy heard from his complaining about his insomnia and back pain. His suggestion had been to start smoking weed and to his credit, it worked. it was a bit less of a conventional method by most people’s standards, but it worked and saved Simon the trouble of having to book too many doctor appointments just to be giving medication that could make things worse instead of properly helping him.

The gratification was nearly instant as soon as Simon felt the smoke hit his lungs, the gentle burn in his throat keeping him grounded as he exhaled. His morning ritual of smoking a bowl was always just as rewarding. Feeling his head slowly filling with cotton and everything around him dulling was euphoric, even bordering on therapeutic. The ache in his limbs and back dulling with each slow inhale from his pipe, his head finally seeming to grow quiet for just a moment was nothing short of pure bliss. He was shocked back into reality by a small piece of ash maneuvering it’s way through the pipe, into his mouth, and conveniently striking him in the back of his throat, sending Simon into a rather brutal coughing fit. Roach would call those “scooby snacks”and Simon felt the need to tell him how stupid it sounded every time he said it. It sounded childish but he still felt it was an accurate description.

He quickly cleaned up his setup as soon as he finished, clearing out the pipe and making a mental note to properly wash it later, but it was highly likely that he wouldn’t end up actually doing it. He headed downstairs to make breakfast. It was just a bowl of cereal, but he needed to keep himself fed at the very least. He turned the TV in the living room on for some background noise, not too bothered with properly watching it.

The vast majority of his mornings started off like this. He worked part time evening shifts at a record shop that was a ten minute walk away from his house. If Simon wasn’t working, he was more than likely spending time at home either playing his guitar or sleeping. He didn’t tend to get out of the house too much, but he preferred it that way. He rarely left the house aside from work or to get weed and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Meeting up with friends was exhausting and he always needed to be alone for a few hours after any kind of heavy social interaction. Every overlapping sound of conversations, to music, to people just walking around were overwhelming. Smoking helped him stay calm for the most part, but it only helped to a certain extent. He would proudly be a hermit for the rest of his life, it didn’t bother him in the slightest.

One of the few people Simon interacted with regularly was his dealer. His name was ‘Soap’ but Simon knew he that wasn’t his actual name. He just hadn’t gotten around to bullying that information out of him yet. Soap was.. a fairly interesting character, to say the least. He was only a couple years younger than Simon and around half a head shorter than him.

Simon had never seen Soap dressed up nicely. The vast majority of the time, he was wearing a black t-shirt, either black or grey matching sweatpants, and a pair of slides with socks that looked like they’d been to hell and back. He always wore the same gold cross around his neck, which Simon was almost positive was fake but wasn’t sure. Soap smelled like expensive cologne and weed typically. He was undeniably attractive despite the overgrown mohawk/mullet that Simon would frequently bully him for having. He was good looking but he seemed to have a habit of getting under Simon’s skin every time he saw him. It pissed Simon off, but he still enjoyed his presence.

Fuck. That’s what he’d been forgetting. He needed to text him. He sat down his cereal and grabbed his phone, shooting Soap a quick text.

💀: hey, are u busy rn?

🧼: never too busy 4 u

🧼: what do you need?

Soaps response came quicker than Simon expected. He always had a habit of responding quickly when it came to him, but it still managed to surprise him sometimes.

💀: running a bit low. could you swing by sometime today with an ounce?

🧼: ill be there in 20

As annoying as Simon found himself at times, Soap had always had a habit of being particularly punctual with his “delivery” times. They had built up a bit of a routine through their time together. Soap would pull up, Ghost would get in the car with him, and they’d drive around for a bit so that the interaction would seem less suspicious, and Soap would drop him back off with his weed.

Even though Soap said he’d be there in twenty minutes, Simon still went downstairs and sat on the couch, almsot immediately putting his shoes on and scrolling through his phone to pass time. It felt extremely awkward, and Roach frequently gave him shit for it, but Simon liked being able to head straight out of the door as soon as he heard Soap’s shitty Honda pulling into his neighborhood. He could hear it from nearly a block away every time. Soap never sad to send him a text letting him know that he was there.

“Are you waiting for Soap?” Simon nearly startled when he heard Roach speak. He’d come into the living room from the kitchen. Despite being so tall, Roach always seemed to move through the house without a sound and startle Simon at least once per day.

“Jesus H.. Need to get you a bell or something. Yeah, I am.” Simon sat up properly, watching as Roach gave him a quick nod before walking towards the stairs.

“You don’t need to wait by the door like a fuckin’ dog every time he’s coming by.”

“And you need to get a better fucking’ hobby than giving me shit all day.” Simon waved him off briefly before checking the time on his phone. Soap would e arriving any minute. As harsh as he was towards Roach, he was one of the few people who he was properly close to. They’d both seen each other at their respective low points and were extremely close, but Roach knew how to get under Simon’s skin just like how Tommy would when they were still living together. Simon frequently wanted to put him in a headlock, but that was just their friendship.

Like clockwork, Simon heard Soap pulling up outside and he left the house just as Soap was pulling into the driveway. He drove a rather beat up looking old, white Honda civic. Three of the door had rust on them, one of them didn’t even open, and all of the hubcaps were scuffed as all hell, the cheap gold overlay revealing the lover quality metal underneath. The car was never clean, interior or exterior, but Simon never judged that. He didn’t even have a car so arguably, Soap was faring much better than he was.

As soon as Soap put the car in park, Ghost was opening the door and sitting down. The floor was the cleanest that he’d seen it recently, having only a few empty bottles along with some scattered napkins across the mat. Soap didn’t even have to move anything off of the passenger seat so that Ghost could sit down.

“Even cleaned up for meg How polite…” Ghost mumbled as he sat down, quickly buckling his seatbelt as Soap started backing out of the driveway. His arm was pressed against the back of Simon’s headrest, perfectly displaying the tattoos and veins trailing down his forearms. Ghost would be lying if he said he didn’t want to—

“Only the best for my favorite customer.” There was laying it in thick again. As much as Ghost liked to pretend that it bothered him, he did enjoy how Soap tended to dote on him whenever they were together. It was hard to tell him to back off whenever he’d flash that same charming smile while sily fiddling with his cross. He had a certain charm to him that Ghost couldn’t help but be drawn to.

“Are you hungry? Have you eaten today?”

“I ate today, yeah.” Soap always had the tendency to check on him like this, and as much as Ghost found it annoying, it wa strangely endearing.

“If you’re hungry, we can go get something. I don’t mind the extra trip if you are.” Fucking hell . He wasn’t a child, he could feed himself.

“You don’t need to, I’m fine. You’re already bringing me weed, I don’t need food on top of that.” Ghost fiddle awkwardly with the cash in his pocket, blushing ever so slightly under his back surgical mask.

“I’m just saying.. If you change your mind, let me know, alright?” They sat in silence for a moment, Soap’s playlist on at a low volume in the background. The speakers in his car were blown out. If music was played at too high of a volume, you could barely even understand it. “What’d you think of the last stuff I gave you?”

“It was nice, definitely helped out with the sleep issues and everything else. It worked a little too well, honestly.” Ghost reached into his pocket and pulled out his pack is cigarettes, offering one to Soap before lighting one and cracking the window a bit. “I slept really well with it, but it honestly made me a bit too tired in a way. Going to work after smoking it was a fuckin’ nightmare.”

“I figured it might. That shit put me straight to sleep when I tried it. Did it help much with your back?”

“It did, yeah. Not so much waking up, but it didn’t bug me too much after having a bowl.” His check ins with Soap nearly felt like medication evaluation sometimes, but he appreciated that he cared enough to see if he got the strain right for him.

“Glad to hear it. If being tired is what got you, I have a different strain I can give you. This one’s a bit more of a head high than a body high. Should be decent for keepin’ you on your feet all day. It’s a new one I got in. I threw a couple grams of it in that baggie for you,” Soap gestured at the plastic bag stashed in the corner console. “It’s a separate from the ounce. Let me know if you end up liking it and If can give you a bit more of it whenever I see you next.”

“How much do I owe you?”

“Just forty.” Ghost nearly did a double take as soon as he spoke, freezing from where he was counting up his money.

“Only forty? Bullshit.” He turned slightly in his seat so that he could properly face Soap, his mask still pulled down beneath his chin as his cigarette dangled out of the side of his mouth.

“I’m serious. It’s on me.” Soap reached over, giving Ghost a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “It’s a new strain, and I haven’t gotten many people to try it. ‘M not gunna make you pay for it if you don’t even know if you’ll like it. It’s my treat.”

“If you fuckin’ say so…” Ghost placed the bag in his pocket, puffing on his cigarette as they kept driving. Soap was taking the same loop that he always did. It took around twenty minutes. His excuse was that it made everything look less suspicious and Ghost took his word for it.

“Hey, Soap?”

Soap gave a soft him in acknowledgment, slowly making a left turn with only one hand on the wheel.

“What’s your actual name? And don’t fuckin’ lie to me about it I know damn well your real name isn’t Soap.” He couldn’t give him too much shit, Ghost hadn’t given him his real name either. He’d make the excuse of wanting to keep his identity a bit more private, particularly when he initially met Soap. Since he’d been in contact with him for the past six months, it only felt fitting to ask that now.

“I’ll tell you if you give me your name first.” He glanced over to Ghost briefly before turning his attention back to the rode.

“It’s Simon.”

“Of all the names in the world you could’ve picked, you picked Simon?”

“Oh fuck off. What’s yours then? If you’re gunna give me shit, what’s yours?”

“It’s john.” Ghost fully barked out a laugh, nearly losing his cigarette in the process. His shoulders shook slightly as he tired to calm himself back down. “What? Don’t fuckin’ laugh! My dad picked it out you fuckin’ bastard.”

“You have absolutely no right to give me shit when your name is John. Get the fuck out of here.” Ghost wheezed softly, ashing out his cigarette into the designated cup in the center console. “Did your friends call you Johnny?”

“Fuck no. I hated that shit when I was growing up.” Soap pulled into a parking like briefly, turning the car around and starting to head back towards Ghost’s house. “I don’t mind hearing it from you though. Sounds nice.”

The rest of the drive back home to Simon’s house was made in comfortable silence, neither of them having too much else that they wanted to say. It was oddly comforting spending that time with Soap. He didn’t feel obligated to talk to him and he was extremely grateful for it. He enjoyed his company, despite the fact that he found Soap annoying as all hell at times. He was strangely endearing. He found himself hesitating to reach for the door as soon as Soap pulled into his driveway.

“Hate to drop you back home so soon.. Are you busy later tonight? Id like to see you.” Soap’s eyes felt nearly piercing from where he sat, and Simon almost immediately held eye contact. He wanted to invite him in for a moment, but decided against it.

“I’ve got laundry to do tonight, unfortunately. Maybe some other time.” It was partially a lie. Simon did enjoy his company, but he wasn’t exactly in a rush to hang out with him or have him come over.

“Let me know. Id like to hang out with you aside from just running you over your stuff.” Interesting..

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Simon opened the door of the car, stepping out before leaning down to talk to Soap easier. “I’ll talk to you later, Johnny.”

He shut the door before Soap could respond. Was it rude? Arguably, but he knew that he could end up talking to Soap for hours if he didn’t cut the conversation off. He quickly headed inside, locking the door and kicking his shoes off before heading upstairs to his room. He opened up his stash box and took the baggie that Soap had given him out of his pocket. He separated out the bags, placing the smaller bag with the new strain separately from his remaining weed. In the larger bag, there was a small box of rolling papers and… a note?

“XXX-XXX-XXXX text me? >_0”

It wasn’t entirely out of character. Considering they’d been using different apps for texting, it made sense that Soap would give him his proper phone number. Still, it felt somewhat odd. Particularly with a winky face on the note. Simon decided not to think about it all too hard.

He got everything back into his bowl, grabbing his grinder that had the remaining amount of bud that Soap had giving him previously and loading it into his bowl. He sat down onto his bed up near the headboard, cracking open the window open as not to hotbox the entire room. It was definitely on its way out, but the weed was till perfectly fine. Simon didn’t have any plans for that kuhnt and was only planning on watching TV and tuning out the world. He always preferred a laid back night that like that to going out.

He had just gotten his pipe cleaned out and put away, settling down into bed when he heard a knock at the door. Knowing it was roach, he called for him to come in.

“Hey, party at Garrick’s tonight, are you coming with?” Roach was leaning against the doorway, his hand still resting in the doorknob. A party was the absolute last thing that Simon wanted to do if he was completely honest.

“No, I’m not coming with. Tell Gaz I said hi.” Simon was hoping thad be enough to get Roach out of his hair, but judging by the scowl on his face, it apparently wasn’t.

“Dude, cut the shit. I’m convinced that you don’t leave the house outside of work and getting weed. When was the last time you saw the sun?”

“What are you, my fucking mother?”

“I’m fucking not but jesus christ, Simon. I’m worried about you, seriously. You need to get out of the house more. It’s not healthy.” Simon hated when Roach would fuss over him like this, but the behavior was warranted to an extent. He appreciated it, but it felt a little overbearing at times.

“I’m alright, Gary, I promise. I’m not feeling too good tonight,” That was a complete fucking lie, but he needed an excuse. “I’ll just be a bum if I go. You have fun, I’ll come next time.”

“Aww… does your tummy hurt??” Simon promptly flung the nearest pillow at him, which Roach expertly dodged. “Have fun sulking around the house. I’m holding you to that promise. I’m dragging you with me next time.”

“Yeah, yeah. Fuck off, go have fun. I’ll catch up with you later.” Roach tossed the pillow back over to him before shutting the door behind him. Simon heard him heading off down the stairs and out of the house, relaxing a little as he heard his car starting and driving off.

He rolled over to face the TV, barely even watching it. He could hear thunder faintly off in the distance and quickly closed his window just before the rain startled up. It was a miserable night to be out anyways. He spent the remainder of his evening curled up with his blankets, being pulled off to sleep by the soft pattering of the rain against the glass of his window.

#FWTOMURA #call of duty #cod mw2 #ghost cod #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #simon riley x john mactavish #simon riley #john soap mactavish #john mactavish #cod smut

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swanmaids · 1 year

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based on that cannibal poll turning into a two-horse race between turgon and aredhel. pretty sure nobody asked for this, but you’re getting it anyway. warning again for elf-elf cannibalism and starvation.

Alone in the tent in the early morning, Idril awoke in the dark to the muffled voices of Papa and Aunt Aredhel, and the smell of cooking meat.

She would remember later how good it had smelled. It had been so long since she had tasted meat. It had been so long since she had not been hungry.

She pushed herself up in her bedroll onto her elbows. She would be unable to sleep again now that she had smelled the cooking and awakened her hunger in full force, but since that day, when she had lost both legs as well as Mama, she was confined to her bed or the sledge. And lately it was getting harder even to sit up alone, her hunger making her feel weak as a ragdoll.

Her stomach was so empty that it hurt.

Papa returned to the tent soon enough, though. He never left her side for long.

The steaming bowl he carried drew her attention first. When she got this hungry, it was hard to concentrate on anything else. It was several moments before she realised he was adressing her.

“-your Aunty Aredhel spotted a sea beast on the ice when she left to make water, aren’t we blessed! She went out and slew it and bought it back for us, and here...”

They had not seen any seal nor bear nor other beast for weeks. Later, she would wonder if she had ever believed it.

He pressed the bowl into her hands, and the warmth of it was an instant comfort. Then he sat by her side, and stroked her golden head with his bony hand.

“Always remember, my star, that I love you best out of everything in this world. That there is nothing at all I wouldn’t do to keep you safe and well.” He told her.

She wasn’t listening very closely, though. The food held all the appeal for her.

The meat was pink, with little fat, and had been cut away from the bone. It swam in a broth likely made of bone and melted snow. In the dim light of the pre-dawn it looked closer to pork than seal. And in that moment, no fruit of Aman could have looked so good.

She tore into the meat with her hands, scalding the tips of her fingers rather than wait for Papa to fetch her a spoon, chewing and swallowing so fast she could barely taste it. By the time Aunt Aredhel returned with a bowl for herself and Papa, she was drinking the watery broth.

Papa stared down at his own portion for a long moment, though his face was almost skeletal. Then he made a decision, and began to devour with the same fervour that she and Aunt Aredhel had. They ran their fingers around the empty bowls, sucked the grease off their hands, and then Papa bought the bones in and they scooped the marrow out and ate that too. If the bones did not resemble those of any beast she had seen, Idril remained silent.

As she drifted back to sleep, Aunt Aredhel whispered to her that this early-morning feast would be their secret. After all, there was no reason to make the rest of the host jealous of their catch.

#this is so fucked sorry everyone #my post #my fic

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rinbowaman · 1 year

Text

HHP Chapter 5 pt 3 (18+ MDNI)

Part 3 below line.

It would have been your chance to at least attempt to get away, even if you were nude, however, exhaustion had riddled you with heavy breathing, you were light headed as all the moaning and screaming took it out of you. Instead, you continued to lay there helplessly, slowly trying to regain your breathing while feeling the dreadful anxiety swarming through as you listened in on the sounds of him removing his shirt, unbuckling his belt, and unzipping his jeans. The streams from your eyes never faded, in fact, they became more apparent the moment you felt his skin coating your body from above. His arms trapping you to the center of his chest as he leans in and smirks against your lips. “Hmm…ready? This is going to hurt, but it’s only because I missed you so much...” Kissing you harshly, the last thing you could remember him saying with a stern voice, was… “You know, I’m going to enjoy fucking every inch of you. Scream as loud and long as you want, just remember from here on out, you better never leave me out ever again, y/n.” His eyes glared at you. Realizing he was not only hungry for you, but he was also offended at you seemingly paying no mind at his lack of presence, or feeling as if you hadn’t thought about him since you spent more time enjoying Heeseung. Admittedly, thinking back in the last few weeks, you never even thought to ask Heeseung to bring out more of his rough side as you had done a few times before, reflecting your love for all sides of him. It wasn’t a whole lot, but a sliver of you could understand Ethan’s eagerness and erratic behavior that night. With that last note, you were submitted to an infinite amount of poundings of pain, stings, and excruciating pleasure. You feared it but also loved it, whatever piece of you that had, up until that very moment, remained unbroken from all of your sexual endeavors with both sides, was stripped from you that very night. The stages of you struggling against his strength and relentless act of enforcement, you found yourself transitioning as you slowly came to embracing his neck, no matter how much you tried to fight him off initially, his touch and rough acts caused you to yearn for more as you reached the peak of your orgasm. Unsure of how or when it ended, at some point you broke down and blacked out. Leaving you to bookmark the pain as you awoke the next morning.

PART 4

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intothewestwing · 2 months

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Ch 11-

As Belle approached the castle gate, she was met by the garden statues, who welcomed her and their master back with open arms. They silently carried her and The Beast up the stairs and through the doors to the castle, where Lumiere and a scattering of staff were waiting with baited breath for their master to return.

When Belle awoke, she found herself in The West Wing, tucked into The Beast's bed. The room itself had been cleaned slightly, since the last time she'd been here. An array of candles were lit around the room, as well as the fireplace burning brightly and filling the once dark void of a suite with a warm glow.

She panicked for a second, thinking she were in bed with The Beast, but to her relief, she spotted him laying unconscious on a cot by the fireplace, a round figure standing anxiously above him.

"Mrs. Potts?" Belle called hoarsely.

"Oh my, thank heavens you're awake!" The porcelain woman held her gold-leafed hand to her 'chest', and quickly rushed over to the side of the bed.

She began to put a hand to Belle's forehead to check for fever, before remembering what a silly idea that would be.

"How are you feeling dear? You've had about a day's rest after you had quite a stumble in the hall. Those woods are never kind, especially in the dead of night." As she spoke, she wrung a small cloth in a bowl of warm water, and dabbed Belle's face with it.

"We were so very worried if the wolves had gotten you both. How brave you are to not only take on the Master, but a pack of hungry wolves as well! We are all so very glad you're both safe."

As Mrs. Potts continued to talk and dote on her, Belle thought of how odd an experience it was. Her mother had passed when she was a child, and since then, had never really had a prominent nurturing female figure in her life. It was almost comforting.

"I'm sorry to have worried you all." Belle pushed herself up so she sat upright. "Is he..." She leaned forward a bit to see if The Beast had woken up yet.

"He's alive, but only just so. A minute longer past the gate and he would've-" Mrs. Potts stopped herself. She had a habit of saying more than she should, and thought it would be best for The Beast to explain when he woke up. If he ever woke up.

"But nevermind that." She said with a smile.

"I can tell the kitchens to fix you up some tea? Some soup maybe?"

Belle nodded. She still planned to return home, but she didn't have the strength to face the wolves again. Her travel plans would have to wait until morning.

"That would be wonderful, thank you."

Once Mrs. Potts left the room, Belle checked to make sure she was completely alone, which she was, all except for the unconscious Beast, who lay completely still on the cot.

She slipped out of his bed, and tip-toed across the room. Once she was close enough to take a good look at him, she covered her mouth in surprise.

He looked...awful.

More awful than usual. His skin was pale, and under the hair that covered most of his body, she could see that his veins were a deep black, as if he were poisoned. She'd only seen this in medical books, and only illustrations of it, but she didn't know how else to describe it.

Belle eyed the makeshift bandages that were completely soaked in his dried blood. He had a few on his arms, one toward his neck, and a few smaller ones on his legs, not to mention the singular large claw mark across his face.

One of his arm bandages was ready to be changed out. If not changed soon, she knew it could get infected. Now, she'd never changed bandage dressings before, but she'd read through the village's medical books.

How hard could it be?

The only thing she really worried about was waking The Beast.

As she removed the red, dripping bandages, she did her best to slowly and carefully unwrap the dressings, making sure not to pull too hard on his fur as the warm blood stuck to his arm.

The wound was absolutely gnarly. The wolves' claws had dug deep into his flesh tore it apart in a way that would most definitely leave a hideous scar. If she had the right tools, it would most likely be a case for stitches, but she doubted The Beast kept a sewing kit in his suite.

The bandages would have to do for now.

Belle fetched the bowl of warm water and did her best to clean the wound before tearing off the other sleeve of her dress and ripping it into strips. She'd just make new sleeves when she got home, she thought. There was no use keeping only one.

Once the last of the strips were tied across his arm, Belle let out a satisfied sigh and admired her work. Not too shabby for her first wound dressing.

With a few strips of cotton left over, she cleaned up her own wounds and wrapped them accordingly, most notably the one on her upper arm from The Beast's claws. It wasn't too deep, and had already scabbed over, but she definitely made sure to clean it just in case of infection.

Once she was satisfied, she took one last look at the pathetic monster that lay before her, and wondered why on earth he'd risked his life for her. Clearly, the entire castle was dependent on him. The staff seemed so protective of him, as if their very lives depended on his existence... Belle had many questions.

Unfortunately, those questions would have to wait, for before Mrs. Potts would return with her promised refreshments, Belle had tucked herself back in to the warm covers of The Beast's bed, and fallen fast asleep.

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

Belle awoke in the familiar warmth of her father's cottage, back in the village. She was no longer in The West Wing, and was not welcomed by men made of wax, but a small lit candle that sat by itself at her bedside table. While she was glad to be home, she was puzzled as to how she got there.

Wasn't she just in the castle?

She quickly stood and addressed herself in the floor-length mirror. To her surprise, she was still in her blue dress- but both of the sleeves were fully intact.

Hadn't she just torn the second sleeve off to bandage her- that's when she noticed. The wound from when Beast had scratched her was gone, as if it were never there.

"But that..." She touched her hand to it, grazing her soft skin. "That's impossible."

Before she could investigate further, she heard a noise coming from the living room.

Papa.

All her worries and concerns melted away by the thought of reuniting with her father. After all they'd been through, after all the trouble her time at the castle had brought them, she could finally be at home with her father once more.

Belle rushed to the bedroom door and swung it open, running down the familiar hall to the living room.

"Papa! I'm home!" She called happily, but once she entered, she realized she wasn't in the cottage at all.

She was back in the enchanted castle.

"No..." Belle turned to go back to her bedroom, but the hallway of her cottage was replaced with the winding hallway of the castle that had once led her to The West Wing.

The same familiar breeze that had beckoned her to the magical rose before blew past her once more, with the same eerie message.

"...Approach..."

She sighed in frustration. She had no choice but to obey. Clearly, the castle wanted her to find something.

As she crept through the destruction of The West Wing, past the familiar toppled and crushed furniture, and the ripped paintings, she made eye contact with the Painted Prince. But this time, she didn't stop to greet him. Someone else seemed to be expecting her.

A looming figure stood by the rose, waiting patiently for Belle to step closer. Once she was close enough to see the features on the figure's face, she realized it wasn't The Beast, but a woman.

"You should've ran while you still could."

The figure was hauntingly beautiful, even more so as she removed her hood to reveal a glowing head of golden hair, that trickled down her shoulders like water.

"Excuse me?" Belle raised an eyebrow.

"He does not deserve your pity, your kindness." The woman's words were icy and bitter, but worst of all, they were true.

"Who are you to deem what someone deserves?" She bit back. "No servant of the gods, or one of the gods themselves would cower under a hood as you do."

Belle unsheathed her dagger from her belt. "Who are you?"

With a wave of her hand, and a face of no emotion, The Enchantress transformed Belle's weapon into a single rose, not unlike the one she'd offered The Prince.

"I am no angel, no god, no demon, nor ghost. But I am a friend."

Belle loosened her grip on the rose. Of course, like every beautiful, promising rose, this one had thorns.

"A friend would not be so cryptic."

"I can help you, child."

"I do not want your help."

The Enchantress raised her voice.

"You would be wise not to challenge me, little one. For I hold great power, and I can do with it as I please."

Belle took a second to gather her thoughts. And though logic pointed otherwise, she couldn't shake the feeling that this stranger was not to be trusted.

"I may be little, and I may be mortal, but I am not helpless. And you would be wise to leave me alone."

With her patience tested, in the heat of frustration, Belle threw the rose to the ground. As soon as it made impact with the marble flooring, the room flooded with light, then was sent into pitch darkness.

Belle shot straight up in bed, and opened her eyes to find herself in the warm light of The West Wing, once again, just as before.

It had only been a dream.

Everything was as it was: The fireplace lit, the lit candles lining the walls, and The Beast, laying unconscious on his cot. The only difference was a tray of refreshments, no doubt delivered by Mrs. Potts, just as she said she would.

She anxiously leaned to steal a peek at the enchanted rose, and was relieved to see no sign of the stranger who haunted her dream.

How odd it was...

Belle chalked it up to being a strange side effect of exhaustion, and happily indulged herself in the marvelous cooking of the castle chef.

As she ate, she prayed that that would be the last time she encountered the golden haired stranger. For if she saw her again, she feared what consequences her boldness may have cost her.

#beauty and the beast #beautyandthebeast #beauty and the beast retelling #fairytale retelling #batb disney #beautyandthebeast fanfic #beauty and the beast fic #batb au #batb #batb 1991 #batb 91 #batb 2017

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