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therealvinelle · 3 years

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What are vampires?

(Yes, I changed the title from “What is venom?” a week after publishing and after a whole set of sorry souls reblogged the post. I’m very sorry, but as I sat down to write the follow-up piece I realized that this meta is about vampires, not venom, and the title is no longer appropriate. My perfectionism got the better of me and I’m sorry.)

There’s been a lot of speculation on that in this fandom, here comes my take. It’ll split into four parts, this being part one where I look at what venom does to the human body. In part two I look at hybrids, part three I speculate on what venom is, part four I treat possible origins and raisons d’être of venom.

So, this first part is mostly me regurgitating facts. We won’t get anywhere if we’re not all agreed on what vampires are.

Also, I get very pseudo-scientific in this meta, but I have no education in biology or medicine so I could be wrong about everything. I tried to use good sources, though, so I can’t be entirely off-base.

With that out of the way, LET’S DO THIS.

To create a vampire, you infect a human with venom. This venom spreads throughout the body, altering every cell. The process is complete when the heart stops beating. If the human was injured at the time of infection, they will be healed, as long as the heart keeps beating.

Let’s go through that.

How does the venom spread?

When Bella was bitten by James, Edward was able to suck the venom out. Several minutes passed from she was bitten until Edward sucked the venom out, yet the burn was only reported to be in her hand. By contrast, anyone who’s ever had pharmaceutical administered intravenously knows that blood travels quickly. If venom travelled like any normal fluid, Bella would have said «My hand is on fire. No wait, my arm! No, wait, my torso! No, wait-» and Edward wouldn’t have been able to suck it out.

Additionally, Bella has that scar left by James. The venom had already altered the cells at the entry point.

To me, this sounds like the venom is like Pac-Man, spreading through the body by altering one cell at a time. It’s the only explanation for why it’s so slow. More on that later, though.

How does it alter the cells, and in turn the human body?

Physically, their skin is made impervious and perfectly even, their teeth are straight, razor sharp and white, their bodies impossibly strong, fast, and precise, their senses heightened to an insane degree yet they feel no pain from most physical injuries. Their digestive system is altered so they can only consume blood, preferably human blood, anything non-blood is regurgitated. They’re much more attractive than they were in life. They’re not reliant on oxygen, and their blood doesn’t circulate. They produce their own venom.

Mentally, their minds function at the capacity necessary to even utilize a body like this. They are able to process their heightened sensory input (for example, it’s the brain that interprets visual input from the eyes. For vampires to be able to see better than humans, both eye and brain have to improve), process though much faster than humans, they forget nothing, and they feel emotion and physical sensation more strongly than humans do.

Let’s go through these alterations one by one.

Skin

Frequently likened to marble, vampire skin is as hard as stone. When Bella becomes a vampire, she’s stunned Edward’s flesh now yields to her touch. Before, if she pressed her finger on him, his skin would not yield. The shapeshifters can kill vampires because their fangs are sharp enough to pierce their skin, without that advantage they couldn’t do it. No ordinary weapon could injure a vampire.

The stone skin is an armor, protecting them.

Teeth

As us humans get older, the enamel in our teeth is worn away, revealing the tooth’s underlying yellow color (the dentin). Vampires can live for thousands of years, yet their teeth remain that perfect blinding white. What changed? I see two possible explanations, one being that vampires still have enamel, and it’s too strong to ever be worn away, or they don’t have it because their teeth have been altered to the point where they don’t need a protective layer anymore, and their composition is something completely different from that of human teeth.

I think it’s the latter, as there are two other major changes reported. Their teeth have changed shape, they are now sharp enough to pierce through human or vampire skin. They’re also venomous (more on that later), able to inject anybody they bite, fellow vampires included, with venom.

There’s also the fact that vampires are changed on a molecular level, but more on that later.

Strength, speed, and precision

Meta I wrote on vampire strength disparity.

Vampires are ridiculously powerful, no upper limit (as in, «Newborn Emmett can carry 500 tonnes») is given, but whatever it is it’s high. Alice might just be the physically weakest vampire in the saga (Jane is physically smaller, but she eats properly. Alice lives on a subpar diet), but to Bella it makes no difference, Alice blows her out of the park anyway. Edward, a malnourished and not too strong vampire, is easily able to pick up entire trees by the roots, and then throw them at a small target.

As for speed, vampires move faster than the human eye can register, which according to this article means they can reach a speed of 38 146 mph! (61 390 km/h for us metric people) (Also, the traveling object used for this calculation was a ball, and the article specifies that it would be different for bigger objects. Alas I’m not going to bother my physicist friend with this, so we’re using the ball number.)

When it comes to precision, vampires exercise perfect muscle control. They’re so graceful their steps can’t be heard by humans, Edward can famously stroke a soap bubble without popping it, and they’re able to perfectly mimic the handwriting of others (a task anyone who’s ever googled forensic calligraphy will know is next to impossible). Much of this appears to be instinctual, like a downloaded .vampire package. Knowing how to attack prey, where to bite, that all happens on autopilot. So too does running, jumping, walking (funny how their default mode, even Carlisle’s, is to walk too quietly for their designated prey to detect). Snarling, hissing, and growling are also distinctly non-human manners vampire adopt.

Senses

Heightened sight, hearing, and smell is extremely useful. It makes them much more effective hunters. The smell especially is useful here, but really, all their senses are invaluable in this. It’s great for dealing with fellow vampires as well, they can see, hear, and smell their kind coming from a far distance.

There’s an added advantage, though. As I got into here, and here, if a vampire’s memories of their human life is dull and washed out compared to their brilliant new existence, dismissing humans as equally deserving of life becomes that much easier to justify. Heightened emotions serves this same purpose, though considering their longevity I think this is another form of survival, that they’re wired not to grow bored with life (but this is really for a separate meta).

There’s also the fact that their senses have to be tuned up to 11 to fit their other enhanced abilities. There’s no use in super-speed if you can’t see where you’re going.

Vampires’ heightened senses make them more efficient predators, and help them become the bloodthirsty sociopaths we know and love.

Pain receptors, or lack thereof

Vampires feel pain when they are thirsty, when their limbs are torn off, when they are bitten by other vampires (it appears to be the venom that stings), or when subjected to a gift that induces pain (Jane, Kate). They don’t feel pain like humans do, nor do they feel discomfort (they can sit indefinitely in any position, never feeling the need to shift around.

Interestingly, it looks to me like pain serves the same function for them as it does for humans. The brain registers pain to tell us something, a biological error message. Don’t walk on that leg, it’s injured. Get your hand off the hot stove and don’t put it there again. Pain is useful.

Vampires, by contrast, are not going to get injured from someone hitting them. There are no blood vessels that can burst, no soft tissue that can burst nor bones that can break. So, no need for their brains to register that as pain. Humans need to change positions every now and then for the sake of our circulation and so we don’t develop pressure ulcers (and I’m sure there are more reasons), vampires have no circulation and, as mentioned above, their skin is armor. No pressure ulcers.

What they do need pain for, is to let them know to feed. That’s the big one, and in turn the strongest one. The pain of the thirst is unbearable, as it has to be to turn a human who was infected with venom into a killer. It’s survival. Same goes for feeling pain when their limbs are torn off, or their bodies damaged by a bite. Their pain receptors let them know to avoid this next time.

As for Jane and Kate’s gifts, this may not serve a purpose for other vampires, but it serves a purpose for Jane and Kate. It protects them. So, sucks for everyone else, but that’s what gifts do, they give the gift-haver a leg up on others.

Digestive system

Carlisle had spent many years attempting to understand our immortal anatomy; it was a difficult task, based mostly on assumption and observation. Vampire cadavers were not available for study.

His best interpretation of our life systems was that our internal workings must be microscopically porous. Though we could swallow anything, only blood was accepted by our bodies. That blood was absorbed into our muscles and provided fuel. When the fuel was depleted, our thirst intensified to encourage us to replenish our supply. Nothing besides blood seemed to move through us at all. (Midnight Sun, chapter Home)

Ignoring the horrifying fact that the context for this quote is Edward wondering if Bella’s tear could stay in his system forever, this here is extremely interesting and I agree. Partly because I can’t think of anything better, partly because Carlisle is an in-universe medical genius who’s had access to far more data than I have. He can run experiments, I can’t. Even if I came up with a theory I thought was better, if blood absorption through porous tissue is Carlisle’s best theory then there must be evidence in favor of this which I don’t have access to. So, porous tissue it most likely is.

(Also, my «Carlisle totally volunteered for vivisection fun times with Aro in Volterra» theory survives that first paragraph. Vampire cadavers might not be available for study, but live ones absolutely are, you just pick them apart and put them back together after, and bring in Corin and/or Alec so the guinea pig has a good time too. There’s no way that never occurred to Aro. Even if it didn’t, it’s bound to have occurred to someone over the years, and Aro touches a lot of people. And we know he and Carlisle discussed what vampires even were, that they were best friends and all about that science.

We also know that sometimes, your weird science experiments involving dismemberment and tripping on Corin in Volterra, stay in Volterra. The tissue is porous, Edward, DON’T ASK ME HOW I KNOW.)

This has huge implications. What happened to the digestive system they used to have?

It’s still there, but non-operational.

Middle solution: it’s recognizably there, but welded shut. At some point, whatever the vampire ingests hits an untraversable boundary, and from there the blood is absorbed while any other matter remains, undigested (though possibly dissolved by venom) until regurgitated.

The vampire’s inner anatomy is unrecognizable from that of a human. Vampires have no need for livers, bowels, gall bladders, and so on, and so these organs no longer exist, or have even been replaced by other organs (assuming vampires need any, more on that later).

My vote lies with the third option, though both second and third are possible. The first one, not so much, as it means that in theory, they could force something through their system. They can’t.

More, vampires are nothing if not extremely efficient and economical organisms. They don’t need to feel pain from a physical blow, so they don’t. Why carry around these organs they’re not using?

Then there’s what they even need their digestive system to do. Humans need the nutrients in our meals not just as fuel, but as- well, everything. We need the building blocks for our cells. Our bodies are constantly renewing themselves. Vampires, by contrast, don’t appear to do this. There’s no waste of any kind, and their skin doesn’t get flaky. Edward specifically says blood is fuel, and I think that’s a literal interpretation.

Now we’re veering into speculation territory, and this isn’t the place for it just yet as we’re veering into what venom is and does, but I think whatever digestive process vampires have, serves to turn their blood to venom. I don’t think there’s any particular organ for this, I think that’s just because that’s what happens when venom comes into contact with blood. We see it happen when humans are bitten, and I think it’s fair to assume that the same thing happens when venom comes into contact with ingested blood.

This also helps explain why animal blood isn’t equal to human blood. Animals can’t be turned to vampires, it’s blood but venom and animal blood aren’t on the same FM, so to say. So, with no better option, yes venom can make do with animal blood, but it won’t perform as well as it would with human blood. The vampire is now weaker, with the frankly terrifying side effect that their eyes change color. We’re so used to this that we just go «oh, yeah, animal blood means their eyes turn yellow. It’s like a LED light letting you know which diet the vampire is on!» when in any other organism, a chance of color like that is usually the sign of something being wrong. Blue lips, yellow sclera, red urine, all color changes that point to something not being not as it should be.

Now, to go further here would mean getting more into what venom even is, which is best saved for part three. I’ll say this, venom appears to be the only fluid in the vampire body. It’s moistens their eyes (and melts their contacts), pools in their mouth, is injected through their fangs, and the application of venom to a wound makes them heal faster. Venom is the substance they rely on, more so even than blood, their elixir of life. (My speculation on how Edward was able to impregnate Bella is reserved for the hybrid/what is venom metas).

Also, on what vampires carry over from their human bodies, I do think they’re economical enough to not fix what ain’t broken. I think this because the human nervous system is absolutely brilliant, and indeed Bella regains sensation during her transformation where her spine had once been broken and unable to communicate with her brain. Question is, of course, was this because her new vampire body still uses the human nervous system, or did Bella regain sensation because her transformation had gotten to a point where this was no longer the case?

Beauty

The beauty part has gotten some very valid criticism, as beauty is very subjective and venom makes it out to be an objective, empirically measurable unit.

To caveat first, we see in canon that not all vampires are gorgeous. James was an ugly human, and so as a vampire he’s no beauty. Maggie was emaciated and not particularly attractive, so she’s bony and not hot by vampire standards. The Cullens, by contrast, were attractive humans. Human Bella is a hottie, she pulls all the guys without issue. If she were as plain as she thinks she is, she wouldn’t get male attention. Being new is only gonna get her so far. Jasper was turned because Maria thought he was a cutie, and same goes for Emmett with Rosalie.

(There’s also a certain inherent bias - I imagine attractive people have a much higher chance of getting turned than uglies.)

More, understand that vampires don’t look human. They’re flawless, desirable, perfect, yes - but they are very distinctly not human, and humans know as much instinctively:

Like any normal human, suddenly standing just a foot away from a vampire would send adrenaline racing through his veins. Fear would twist in his stomach for just a fraction of a second, and then his rational mind would take over. His brain would force him to ignore all the little discrepancies that marked me as other. His eyes would refocus and he would see nothing more than a teenage boy. I watched him come to that conclusion, that I was just a normal boy. I knew he would be wondering what his body’s strange reaction had been about. (Midnight Sun, chapter 21, page 547)

Vampires are beautiful in the way the Nefertiti bust is beautiful. It’s perfect, otherworldly, timelessly beautiful, but looking at it you know this is a bust and not a living human woman.

With that in mind, I think some of the vampire’s unnatural beauty is… not circumstantial, but happy bonuses to their other qualities. Their perfect skin, for instance, goes a long way towards making them beautiful. Perfectly smooth, a glowing white, no disruptions like blackheads, scarring, or sweat. At one point Bella describes Rosalie as looking airbrushed. Their perfect teeth, impeccable grace, these features also help.

Now, I think when venom makes a human more beautiful, I think the big thing it does is make the features perfectly symmetrical. This by itself is immediately inhuman and unnatural, more computer generated than human, just perfect enough to tick off the uncanny valley box. This would explain the flawlessness Bella keeps describing in vampires. It also explains the disparity in beauty, the features Rosalie had to work with and get symmetrical were lovelier than the ones James had, and why they can look completely different from each other yet share that same kind of uncanny impeccability. It also explains how people of wildly different face types and ethnicities can all be beautiful, the venom won’t erase the features you had but rather refine them into the best they can be.

I do think that refinement, in addition to symmetry, happens. If it didn’t, the change wouldn’t be so radical from human to vampire. More, all vampires are described as having sharp features, Esme stands out for the fact that she retained some of her human softness. So, the venom appears to make features more angular and, well, sharp.

Aro’s description is in favor of my interpretation of vampiric beauty:

I couldn't decide if his face was beautiful or not. I suppose the features were perfect. But he was as different from the vampires beside him as they were from me. His skin was translucently white, like onionskin, and it looked just as delicate (New Moon, page 234)

His features are flawless, meaning symmetrical. He should be beautiful, so it’s the skin that gives her pause.

There’s also the matter that beauty is observed in the body, not just the form. They all look strong and limber, even the tiniest of vampires. I imagine some of this is simply texture, that vampires are made hard, smooth, and perfect, but we have this from Bella looking in the mirror after waking up a vampire:

She was fluid even in stillness, and her flawless face was pale as the moon against the frame of her dark, heavy hair. Her limbs were smooth and strong, skin glistening subtly, luminous as a pearl. (Breaking Dawn, page 261)

Fluid even in stillness, her limbs smooth and strong. This woman was starving to death when she died. Combined with the fact that Edward, who was a sick 17-year-old, has muscle definition, it seems venom does body sculpting as well. Though it’s worth noting that hydration goes a long way towards muscle definition for humans, so the change in fluid composition in vampires could have something to do with it their limber appearance.

Then there’s the other vampire beauty markers.

Their voices are described quite unusually, with words like wind chimes, bells, or feathers. They’re beautiful, but, like everything else about vampires, inhuman. When Carlisle calls Billy on the phone, Billy immediately recognized the voice as somehow wrong, it’s too clear and sharp.

I mean, I think in part this is because their vocal cords aren’t made of soft human tissue anymore, but most likely stone. No matter what they’re made of, though, it’s no surprise that we’re not getting human voices out of them.

Their scent is appetizing to humans and other vampires alike, and serves a duel purpose. Humans are attracted to them (well, vampires are too), while vampires are able to use it for tracking purposes. It’s tremendously useful for keeping track of your territory, as randos can’t walk in and eat your food and sneak off again without leaving a trail. It’s also good for meeting up with friends, we see Carlisle and Siobhan use it for this purpose in Midnight Sun.

Circulation

The purpose of blood is to carry oxygen and nutrients to the cells. Apparently, this isn’t a need vampires have. All they need is venom. The theory that their tissue is porous adds to this, as it would mean blood travels through their body in a different manner. The porous tissue replaces circulation.

So, no circulation for vampires because they don’t need it.

This meta is now getting ridiculously long, so I’m putting the venom production section in the venom meta.

The transformation

The transformation is complete when the heart stops beating. The former human is now a vampire, and no longer reliant on a heartbeat, nor oxygen. In this they are different from hybrids.

As for the process itself, I think that as the venom spreads, it starts multiplying on its own. This is why it took longer for Carlisle than it did Bella, she was bitten and injected multiple times and on every part of her body while Carlisle was grazed on the arm. Bella had more venom that could work on her, Carlisle did not. These facts support my theory of the slow spread of venom.

I’ve played with the thought of the transformation happening in stages, where the first act is the spread of the venom, which then spreads throughout the body and heals the body to put it at default, the second act is the bodysculpting, and the third act the finishing touches. It doesn’t quite fit with venom transforming as it goes, though, so I’m very hm on that.

A few observations:

Activity level doesn’t appear to help spread the venom. Carlisle exerted himself, and his transformation took far more time than normal (though lying still instead of contorting in agony probably doesn’t help in that regard). Bella laid still as a corpse, and her transformation took far less time than normal. The venom spreads in its own time, regardless of what the blood circulation is up to.

Going by the accounts of the Cullens, while the pain is constant, the transformation hurts increasingly as the venom spreads.

Bella was severely injured, and needed to be healed before she could even feel all the pain. Her broken spine, for instance, meant she couldn’t feel below the waist.

Carlisle said it’s «easier if the blood is weak» (cryptic much?! Not making it easy for me, dude. Though as this was said in the context of Edward explaining that Carlisle would only turn someone already dying, I do think he’s referring to what it’s like for vampires, though, that humans are not so tempting if they’re half dead.)

Healing

Now we’re veering into the venom meta, but: the transformation fixes anything that could impede the vampire’s function. Bella would get nothing done with her post-birth broken body, and so she’s fixed up for her. Alice’s emaciation means she’s thin and less strong than others, it doesn’t physically prevent her from doing anything.

The venom, it appears, heals the human not because it’s being altruistic, nor to make the vampire more appealing to others, but to make the human into an ideal host. BUT MORE ON THAT IN THE VENOM META.

With that, my god we’re done. And this meta is words in total, an ugly number.

Lastly, I know that putting a read more at the end of a 4k long meta is the worst joke in the world (RIP to you poor souls scrolling past this. My reason for not being a read more kind of gal to be found here)

Nothing yet, I’m afraid.

#long post #had to delete immediately after posting because i hadn't actually written anything in the skin section #so i deleted rather than having people reblog before it was ready #ops #twilight #twilight meta #twilight renaissance #twilight vampires #twilight venom #twilight biology #vampire biology #also i am very proud of the way my ship snuck into the post #sorry not sorry but it's a bedbug ship #it won't stay out of my stuff #edit: can't count. wrote five parts

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 3 years

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HASO, “Can We Keep It.”

Sorry about the extended break. Hope you guys like this :)

First officer the Omen Lieutenant Simon waited at the entrance to the cargo bay watching the flaring red light blink continually before the airlock doors. A tone came with it loud and blaring repeatedly crawling its way into her head and making the space behind her eyes throb. She rubbed her head desperate or the sound to stop by knowing she just needed to wait it out. Her family had always wondered why she chose a job that was so stressful, and so full of annoying and bothersome noises, but she wanted this and was willing to go through all manner of annoyances to make that dream come true.

If annoying noises were the worst thing about her job, then she should feel lucky.

The airlock door hissed open and the group of GA scientists and their accompanying human escort hurried into the cargo bay before the door shut behind them.

She saluted to the Admiral who hurried onto the deck, “Sir, everything went well I trust.”

Her question was suddenly cut off when she noticed…. Something off.

Simon had never been all that great at reading people, she had trouble distinguishing tonal variation in people’s voices, and sometimes body language flew itself right over her head like a UFO, but this was obvious enough even SHE was able to pick it out.

“Did you gain weight?” She immediately chided herself for being so blunt. She had learned pretty early on that people didn’t like that sort of bluntness, but she had already stepped face first into it.

Admiral vir straightened himself out and quite obviously pulled his coat over his stomach, which was bulging quite obviously, “Bloating is a bitch, I tell you those space berries are really something.”

“You are EATING random space plants!”

HE shuffled his feet, “Well not eating thm per say, anyway gas, you know that sort of thing. SHould probably head back to my quarters before I bother anyone with my issues.”

He went to walk past her and as he did, she thought he saw his coat twitch right above his stomach.

“What the Fuck was that.”

“Spasms, nothing to worry about.”

“Nothing to worry about! Admiral I should call Dr. Krill down right away.”

“NO NO! No need for that, I can walk just fine. Look, I will swing by the infirmary in a minute and get myself checked out, feeling totally fine. Nothing to see here.”

Simon went to open her mouth but he hurried past her and away, “Lord look at the time, so busy have so many things to do, paperwork, and and meetings and, and gotta call my mom before she freaks out and assumes I have died. Yep.”

Apparently she wasn’t the only one who thought he was acting weird, and she watched him go as the rest of the crew did the same, their heads cocked to the side, their mouths pulled down into a frown. NO one was really sure what was going on, and no one was really sure what they were supposed to do about it.

Simon turned her head to look over at the scientists who looked just as confused, although their leader looked somewhat annoyed about something.

He looked up at her wit an expression even SHE could tell was one of annoyance.

“Next time, we will not be allowing him on our expedition.”

She frowned, “Why is that?”

“Touching everything with his bare hands, marching through the bushes disturbing he wildlife, touching strange creatures, honestly he has no sense of scientific decorum, and if that planet had been even the slightest bit more dangerous, we might all be dead.”

“I will, have a talk with him.”

“Do what you must.” The little creature said, “I need to go lay down.”

He and his scientists walked off, some to the labs and others to do as their boss was doing. Simon was left standing rather confused and staring after them as they went.

She shook her head.

Sometimes she wondered how the Admiral had ever even become an Admiral, but she guessed clearly someone had thought he was qualified.

***

Adam Vir hurried down the hall desperately trying to keep unnoticed until finally shouldering open the door to his room and allowing it to hiss shut behind him. Then finally he leaned his back against the door and sat there as something writhed and churned against his skin. He felt it slither up the front of his chest before Jeffery snaked his way from the top of his jacket and out into open air. He opened his three segmented mouth, likely tasting the air kind of like a snake as he did Before turning his head to look around at the dark room.

Adam patted Jeffrey on the hed, “See, home sweet home.”

The snake-like alien slithered most of the way out of his jacket and went to curl around his upper arm and torso resting his head on top of Adam’s as he showed the creature around the room.

“This is where I sleep, and that over there.” he pointed “Is my dog waffles.”

In the time they had stepped into the room, and Jeffreyhad shown himself, the German Shepherd and poked her nose out from around the side of the bed eying Jeffery with some measure of concern.

Jeffery opened his mouth in her direction and Waffles scooted back just slightly looking to Adam with an expression of confusion and concern. She clearly wasn’t sure that she liked this at all.

Jeffery stretched close to her, his mouth still open holding himself up with great powerful muscles, likely more powerful than your average snake, which was saying something considering earth had plenty of constrictor species that could crush a man to death if they sochos.

Adam held out an encouraging hand, “It’s ok girl, its ok, he isn’t going to hurt you.”

Granted, he hadn’t actually thought this through, and if it didn’t go well, i was going to make his life a lot more difficult than he had originally intended.

He Knelt down on the floor and held out a hand to Waffles, who, as the good girl she was gave him her trust and moved forward, her nose twitching in the direction of the strange alien.

Waffles had spent a good portion of her life around aliens, so she was used to coming into contact with new and strange creatures. Where other dogs might have barked, growled, or even attacked, she approached with cautious footsteps her head cocked curiously to the side.

Jeffrey, for his part, didn’t seem worried at all, and stretched forward to get a better look at the strange creature he could now sense before him. He closed his mouth after a bit and looked her over with his large green and yellow eye. She stretched her neck forward sniffing at him curiously. Tentatively she took one step forward and then another until she was sniffing the head of the space snake directly.

Her tail came up from where it had been hidden in between her legs and slowly began to wag back and forth.

She took another step forward and tentatively licked at the snake.

Jeffery reared back slightly surprised causing the dog to shrink back a little. For a moment he worried it was going to devolve into a fight, but then Jeffery lowered himself back down and allowed Waffles to lick him some more. He slithered from around Adam’s soldiers an onto the floor in a tight coil.

Waffles dropped her front half and stuck her butt in the air tail wagging playfully batting at the snake with one of her paws.

Jeffery reared up a little an playfully lunged at her.

Adam grinned. It was a lot like watching a cat and a dog fight and he sat back on the edge of his bed to watch the two of them play.

Waffles Lay down with Jeffrey in between her paws, mouth open tilting her head back and forth as if threatening to bite him, though he knew she never would. She played with him like that all the time and had never hurt him in the past.

It Was probably at that precise moment that Adam realized…. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to do. It’s not like there were regulations against stealing animals from unknown planets, though there probably should have been. He knew that what he had done was probably illegal in some way or another, though he hadn’t read the manual in long enough to figure that out. He knew for sure that Simon and krill were going to be pissed, and probably Sunny. They would likely turn the ship around and make him take Jeffery back home, but the thought of dumping him off in the forest and then just leaving left a huge pit in Adam’s stomach.

He had already proven once that he wasn’t going to be able to leave Jeffery behind.

After bonding for the day, he had honestly intended to set jeffery back into the wild. He had even gone down to the nearest berry tree and set him down offering him some of the berries to eat in his cupped hand before turning away and walking off, but then he heard jeffery behind him, and turned around to find the snake following him, looking for all the world like he was sad to see his friend go.

Adam had tried to explain himself as much to make himself feel better as to explain the situation to jeffery, but he just couldn’t do it. Jeffery had looked so forlorn and sad, like he understood what was going on.

Then he had crawled over and wrapped himself around Adam’s leg looking up at him with a big sad eye.

Adam was a weak man.

He knew it

Puppy eyes, or in this case, snake eye worked on him just a little too well, and he was unable to leave the creature where it should.

At any time, if jeffery had shown a hint of agitation, he would totally have gone back, but he had curled up under Adam’s shirt and rested there through the whole flight like it was nothing, and now here he was taking his new environment and friends in stride.

Adam sighed and rested his head in his hands.

Great, he had gone and adopted yet another alien.

He hadn’t done it in so long that it was bound to happen again, but he really had not intended for it to happen this time. This time it had been completely by accident.

Just then there was a knock at the door.

He nearly fell off the bed in shock and concern as he hurried over to the door. Waffles and Jeffrey had stopped playing as they curiously looked over towards him. He cracked the door halfway glancing out into the hall with a face of concern.

Adam was both surprised and nervous to see Ramirez standing there.

Behind him Jeffery slithered over looking ready to poke his head around the door to see who was knocking.

Adam tried to block him with his foot as he peered through the door.

“Sorry bro, really busy right now gotta go.”

Ramirez frowned and reached out a hand to block the door, “Dude, serious? Like you were acting weird just a few minutes ago and Krill sent me up here to make sure you were okay.”

Adam gave a stiff smile as he attempted very hard to keep Jeffery back from the door, “Oh yeah, I am totally ok. Very cool, completely and utterly ok, no problems at all.” Jeffery, who had got annoyed at his attempt to block the door, now began to slither up his leg.

Ramirez frowned, “Are you sure you are ok?”

“Yeah Fine/”

He tried to Grab Jeffery but he slithered through, and around the doorway opening his mouth to smell the newcomer.

Naturally Ramirez freaked out almost immediately, “What the FU_” He reached down for his handgun, but before he could Adam lunged forward, grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled them both back into his room allowing the door to slam behind him.

He pinned Ramirez to the floor as the other man struggled, “What te HELL!”

He claimed a hand over the other Man’s mouth, “Shut Up! Shut UP.”

Ramirez went quiet breathing hard as Adam Sat over him, a hand pressed to his mouth. Jeffer peered out from around his shoulder.

“Don’t scream, and I will take my hand away. Gt that?”

Ramirez nodded, and Adam pulled his hand back.

“What the hell is that!” Ramirez hissed

“This is Jeffery.”

“Jeffery?”

“Yeah…. I may have…. Rescued him from an alien planet.”

“Dude are you kidding me, for a second I thought you were being mind controlled or possessed by some sort of alien brain sucker.” He looked up at Jeffrey and waved a hand, “Waddup.”

Jeffery opened his mouth again.

Ramirez pulled back a bit, “W-what’s it doing.”

Adam waved a hand, “Oh, I think that is just the way he smells people or something.”

He rolled off to the ide to allow Ramirez to sit up,and reaching out jeffery let Ramirez pat him on the head, “So cool,” he glanced over at Adam, “You know Simon and krill are going to be PISSED.”

He sighed, “I know, I know, but you should have seen the way he looked at me when I tried to leave. I couldn’t handle it….. I am a weak man.”

Ramirez shook his head, “Well now what…. Do you even know what it eats”

Adam paused, opened his mouth and then closed it, “Well I know he eats berries?”

“And did you bring any of those berries?”

“Well I uh…. May have forgotten in the moment.”

Ramirez paused, “Wait here for a second.” Adam watched him as he got up and left the room.

***

The rest of the crew would be very confused to watch Ramirez walk into the mess hall, int the walk in refrigerator and then appropriate a tub of strawberries, some raspberries, blueberries and blackberries before walking back out of the room without saying anything to anyone. He would get some very strange looks as he walked up the stairs towards the captain’s quarters and then vanish walking back into the room and setting the berries down on the floor.

The two of them sat cross legged across from each other and attempted to figure out what exactly it was that Jeffrey liked.

Adam still had no idea how he was going to hide this.

Jeffery was too curious for his own good , and someone was bound to find out eventually

246 notes · View notes

sachigram · 3 years

Text

With Teeth Chapter 3

((click here to read on ao3!!))

“Is that man coming by here again?”

Izaya pauses in his typing, sparing a glance at Namie, who is staring at him from her side of the desk. She looks bored, but that's nothing new. She hides her emotions well. It's one reason he can tolerate her, despite her unpleasant personality and obsession with her brother. She's fun, hard to predict. She's a challenge.

“What man?” Izaya asks, knowing full well what she means. She scoffs at him, and he grins at her. “You'll have to be more specific.”

“That one. The one you're obsessed with. Heiwajima. He's been coming by here every month around this time, skulking and making rude comments. This will be the seventh month, right?”

“Observant, aren't you?” Izaya asks, turning back to his typing. “I can't predict what Shizu-chan does, you know that. He does what he wants.”

“Yeah, but there's a pattern now. People like him don't normally have patterns, do they?” Namie tilts her head at him, something other women might do to seem cute. With Namie, it's always a disarming tactic, something she does to seem smaller when she's actually a power player. Izaya is used to her by now, even without reading her mind.

“That's part of what makes him so unpredictable. He's random until he isn't, and then he breaks his pattern when you least expect.” Izaya waves her away. “Ask what you want to ask, and stop with the games. We're both busy people.”

“You've got something on him, right? You're blackmailing him? It has to be something like that. He wants you dead even more than I do, and that's saying a lot. There's no way he'd suffer in your company more than he had to.”

“Whatever I do or don't have on Shizu-chan is between him and me. That makes it none of your business, Namie-chan! Unfortunate for you, but true all the same.”

“Are you guys fucking or something?” she asks, and she shrugs at the look Izaya gives her. “What? There's not much else you'd keep secret. If he gave you something actually juicy, you'd be holding it over his head much worse than this. Unless you had something to lose too, you wouldn't care what happened to him.”

“You are the definition of an 'over-thinker',” Izaya informs her. “Sometimes things are what they are, and nothing more.” Almost on cue, a thundering knock raps at the door, and Izaya motions for Namie to get it. “Who knows who that could be! Look professional, would you? We're running a business, here.”

“Yeah, I'm so curious who it is,” Namie says sarcastically, wrenching the door open to reveal a grumpy-looking Shizuo. He doesn't bother greeting her, just steps around her as he stomps into Izaya's apartment.

“Shizu-chan, what a surprise!” Izaya calls. “Terrible to see you, as always.”

“Fuck off and die, flea,” Shizuo says, heading straight for Izaya's fridge. Namie watches him for a moment, and then she turns back to Izaya.

“Shall I leave you to your fornication?” she asks.

“Oh, I don't know,” Izaya muses. “You're pretty, Namie-chan, when I don't have to look at your face. Maybe you could join us for the evening.”

“I'd rather be eaten alive, thanks.”

“More like you have plans already to stalk that brother of yours. Don't bother; he's having a date night at with Mika-chan at your favorite Italian place! He made reservations yesterday.” Izaya tilts forward, smirking at her as her face reddens with rage. “Run along, won't you? Who knows what they might do for dessert?”

Rather than retort, she picks up a folder from Izaya's desk and throws it as hard as she can. The papers fly out, flowing through the air like confetti, and she slams the door behind her hard enough to make even Shizuo flinch.

“Fuck. What's her problem?” Shizuo asks.

“Lots of things. She has more problems than most,” Izaya says, going back to his typing. He makes a mental note of the fact that Shizuo went straight for the pork tenderloin Namie prepared the day before, and then he looks up at his expected guest. “How's the bloodlust?”

“Same as it always is. Too fucking much,” Shizuo replies, already chomping away on cold leftovers. He never bothers with reheating them, anymore.

“And yet, you haven't bitten anyone. It seems you either have more self-control than I ever would've guessed, or you're exaggerating your symptoms.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Shizuo says, and he flops onto Izaya's couch, giving Izaya a scrutinizing stare. “Does your secretary not know you're a witch?”

“Of course she doesn't,” Izaya replies. “Why would she?”

“She practically lives here.”

“She works here, Shizu-chan. This is an office, first and foremost.”

“Funny. I thought it was your apartment.” Shizuo takes another bite of food, his cheeks bulging almost comically with the amount he's eating all at once. When he speaks again, it's with his mouth full. “Even your place is a front. No one knows anything about you, huh?”

Izaya gives him a withering stare, grimacing at the grotesque way Shizuo eats.

“You're awfully conversational today. Why the sudden interest in my life? Usually you just barge in here, eat my food, and sit in silence until you're the true monster you've always been.”

“I guess I'm just curious about the way you do shit. Shinra told me all about how rare it is, what you are. He said you're probably keeping my secret so I'll keep yours,” Shizuo says. He finishes the last of the container of pork tenderloin, and then he goes back to the fridge.

“By all means, tell everyone what you know about me. The people who don't immediately run screaming from you will hardly care. I've been called terrible things, and for good reason. Calling me a witch in public will hardly matter.” Izaya turns back to his screen.

“Got no reason to tell anyone about you. I don't give a shit what you are.”

“Wonderful.”

There's silence for a bit, the sound of Shizuo chewing, of Izaya's fingers clacking against the keyboard. Izaya spares a glance up at Shizuo, who seems to be thinking about something, his brows furrowed. Curious in spite of himself, Izaya can't help but dip into Shizuo's mind. He snorts, and it draws Shizuo's attention.

“If you wanted to go to Shinra's place for this, you should have,” Izaya says. Shizuo snarls at him.

“Don't fucking read my mind.”

“Then stop thinking so loudly.”

“You said you didn't read minds often!”

“And you said that was a lie.”

Shizuo growls, his mind going to static as he considers throwing Izaya's entire counter out the window. Truth be told, Izaya wasn't lying when he said he doesn't try to read minds very often. It would be helpful for him in his line of work, but he was always more interested in doing the work himself. It was more fun, more challenging, easier to convince himself he didn't need his magic to be as powerful as he was.

“I hate you,” Shizuo hisses. It's the truth, Izaya can sense. Shizuo hates everything about this, being here, relying on Izaya, speaking to Izaya, smelling Izaya's scent all around him. Like this, Shizuo's mind is so loud and consumed with rage that Izaya pulls back, unwilling to listen to all that incessant noise and clatter.

“So go to Shinra's, then.”

Shizuo doesn't respond, but he doesn't need to. Izaya doesn't even need to read the beast's mind to know what he's thinking. Shizuo doesn't want to be seen that way by anyone he actually cares about. Izaya doesn't count in Shizuo's simple mind.

Of course it would be something like that.

Izaya pushes it from his mind. He's always loved seeing the worst aspects of other people, seeing them at their lowest, their breaking points, and choosing to love them anyway. Part of what makes Izaya able to love mankind as a whole is being there when they break, observing them as they either pick up the pieces or destroy others as they have been destroyed. It doesn't matter how it happens, whether Izaya has to cause it himself, or not. Their choices are their own.

Even in Shizuo's case, he's choosing to come here, to rely on Izaya, to trust in Izaya to help him remain himself.

“What are you smiling about over there?” Shizuo barks, snapping Izaya from his reverie.

“Oh, nothing,” Izaya lilts.

Creepy fucker. Shizuo thinks it, so clearly it seems almost direct, as if he wanted Izaya to hear it. Knowing him, it's more than likely. Shizuo doesn't censor his thoughts or his words, after all, and he's never been afraid to tell Izaya what he really thinks.

Seemingly content with the amount he ate, Shizuo sits back on the couch, his legs bouncing in nervous anticipation. He's always filled with anxiety on nights of the full moon, and Izaya can't exactly blame him. Even if Shizuo has a higher pain tolerance than most, the transformation is still incredibly painful, and Shizuo worries about keeping his sanity more than anything else. He's terrified of hurting someone, anyone, even Izaya, and he finds comfort in the fact that Izaya would never let him get close enough to actually hurt him.

Sometimes Shizuo is so human it's sickening.

***

The first time Izaya was consciously aware he was dealing with a dangerous, inhuman creature, he was in middle school.

Tsukumoya Shinichi found Izaya first, of course, an incredibly tame bloodsucker, but an irritating one all the same. He was Izaya's first official client that wasn't a desperate spirit, and he also had the annoying habit of popping up out of nowhere, eager to poke and prod at Izaya like a test subject, much like Shinra, but much, much more adept at getting under Izaya's skin. Izaya was just beginning in his potion-making back then, and Tsukumoya was enthusiastic about needing to feed less. A fellow lover of humans, it had been a long time since Tsukumoya had taken a life. He knew the right amount to drink, but he also had the habit of getting lost in his work, forgetting to feed, and always risked taking too much from the first victim after a period of accidental starvation.

“That's where you'll come in. You could have an entire market of potions for those like me, those that don't want to hurt anyone in the world of the living,” Tsukumoya explained. He had popped up out of nowhere again, met Izaya on his walk home. The sun was freshly set, and Izaya was walking home from Shinra's, enjoying the rare break of caring for the toddlers since his parents were home.

“Isn't making a potion as simple as reading a recipe?” Izaya asked, already irritated by the vampire's presence. “Couldn't you do it yourself?”

“I could,” Tsukumoya said, “but it would only be a drink at that point. I'm not a witch. There would be no magic in it.”

“How fortunate for me,” Izaya said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Tsukumoya merely laughed at him, as he always did. The vampire seemed to view Izaya as a trinket of sorts, the kind of thing one might pick up on a whim, and then keep for a long time.

“Just think about it, would you? There aren't many options in this world, or the next. Witches are few and far between, as you're aware,” Tsukumoya said. “It's been centuries since I met one as powerful as you.”

“So you've said before,” Izaya replied.

They walked in silence for a while, Tsukumoya still grinning like he was thoroughly enjoying himself, and Izaya with a small frown on his face, irritated by the fact that between Tsukumoya, Shinra, and the twins, he was always having someone trail after him. They were passing by an alleyway when Izaya's body screamed at him to RUN and NOW. He felt the pinpricks of danger along his skin, but he was rooted to the spot, too curious for his own good.

“Stay back,” Tsukumoya said, his voice calm, but tight. “That one's pretty strong.”

“What is it?” Izaya asked, straining to see through the darkness of the alley. He could see a figure, huge and looming, but he couldn't make out any details. As if in answer, a ferocious growl sounded, and Izaya was bombarded with the ugliest thoughts he ever heard in his life.

Kill, kill, blood, bite, KILL, KILL, KILL—

Izaya pulled back with disgust, and his sudden movement seemed to trigger the creature, who lunged forward. Tsukumoya yanked Izaya out of the way, too fast for Izaya to truly follow, and then Izaya got a full look at what was after him.

The creature was massive, covered in patches of thick, course fur. It had glowing eyes filled with madness, singularly focused on Izaya, the same thoughts running through its head. Teeth, sharp, jagged teeth, were in the creature's gaping maw, too large to truly fit.

“Werewolf,” Izaya said aloud, as fascinated as he was on edge.

“Yeah,” Tsukumoya answered, “and we interrupted his meal.”

Only then did Izaya notice the blood all over the creature, the viscera under its claws and in between its teeth. He inhaled sharply, and the creature lunged again. It seemed to be all Tsukumoya could do to dodge it.

“You shouldn't be out walking on nights of the full moon!” Tsukumoya said through clenched teeth, throwing Izaya over his shoulder as he ran up the side of the building, the wolf hot on his heels. “Haven't you read enough to know what's out here by now?”

Izaya had. He knew what was out here, knew the risk, but he didn't care enough to stay safe indoors. He couldn't bring himself to regret his decision, not when he could see firsthand what a werewolf could truly do. He propped himself on his elbows to watch the werewolf from over Tsukumoya's shoulder, and his stomach felt like it was dropping to his feet when the vampire detached from the building, free-falling in a careful spiral towards the ground.

The wolf fell after them, still only thinking the same thoughts as before, and Izaya didn't know what Tsukumoya's plan was, didn't wait to find out. He gripped his hand, and the wolf seized, a confused yelp leaving it as its arms and legs snapped to its sides, sending its body careening into a crumpled heap on the hard concrete. Tsukumoya wasn't breathing heavily, not the way he should've been after such physicality, but Izaya reminded himself that for as human as Tsukumoya seemed, he wasn't, and he had no need to breathe. He set Izaya down on the ground and moved towards the still snarling wolf, who snapped at them repeatedly, still trying in vain to bite them.

“Was he one who could've used a potion?” Izaya asked, watching in awe as he approached behind Tsukumoya. He felt fear, certainly, but not nearly enough to leave.

“No,” Tsukumoya said, “this one enjoys the hunt.” With that, he lifted his foot, bringing it down hard on the wolf's head. Bits of skull and brain-matter splattered onto the ground and walls as the wolf's growls ceased, and slowly, the body left behind became that of a man's. Izaya stared at the grisly scene, finding it strange that the first tangible thought he had was that he wished Shinra could be here to see this.

“Sorry,” Tsukumoya said, turning to Izaya. “He would've just killed someone else next month. It was better this way.”

“Yeah,” Izaya said, his body still thrumming with adrenaline. “I've never used my power like that on anything living before.” He didn't really even mean to. He didn't realize it was happening until he was doing it. Tsukumoya only laughed, of course.

“Oh, Izaya, that's only the beginning of what you could do.”

***

Hours later, and Shizuo is back to his usual pacing, his looming form weaving between the coffee table and the TV. Izaya is staring at his computer screen, trying to keep up with the chatroom conversation, but it's nothing he's interested in, and his attention keeps drifting elsewhere, his vision blurring as he loses himself to his thoughts.

He was up the last few days with another assignment. Shiki has been keeping him busy lately, definitely trying to occupy as much of Izaya's time as possible. Shiki really enjoys his petty tormenting, and Izaya has to admit he's been stepping out of line these past few months. He hasn't admitted to anything, of course, but he doesn't have to.

—like shit.

Shizuo's thoughts cut through Izaya's. Shizuo is glancing at him as he paces, his mind the usual maze of self-loathing, bloodlust, and emotional static, but it's clear he's thinking of Izaya, too, specifically that Izaya doesn't look well. Shizuo is thinking of the last time he saw Izaya in the middle of the city, and how he resembled a caged animal, manic, listless, poised to strike. Izaya's jaw tightens, and he fights to keep his expression neutral as he stands and moves to the kitchen, bypassing Shizuo.

Shizuo's thoughts continue to carry as Izaya makes tea. The monster is thinking of how small Izaya is, like this, with Shizuo's form so massive in comparison, but also all the time. Shizuo has always thought of Izaya as flea-sized, a beanpole, something annoying to be flicked away, but somehow Izaya always returns. Shizuo thinks Izaya is completely out of his mind, would have to be in order to keep coming back to annoy him.

But there's a comfort in that, isn't there? Izaya thinks, and Shizuo goes completely stiff, his body turning slowly to face Izaya.

Get the fuck out of my head.

“It's not my fault your thoughts are so loud. You're practically screaming them at me.” Izaya finishes with his tea, and makes his way back to his desk. “Besides, is it really even considered eavesdropping if you're thinking of me?”

Yes. Shizuo's ears are pulled back, his teeth bared. You've invaded enough of my life, you fucking parasite. Let me think in peace.

“Monsters don't deserve any peace,” Izaya mutters, but he grants Shizuo's request, and leaves his mind. At least, Izaya tries to. It's strange. He's never encountered this before. Izaya doesn't read minds often, at least on purpose, but most people are always subconsciously guarding themselves, even without being aware of Izaya's abilities. With Shizuo, he's both protecting and projecting his thoughts to the point that he's pulling Izaya in more than he's pushing him away. If Izaya had to guess, he'd say it's because Shizuo has never had to guard himself. For all of Shizuo's confounding nature, he's incredibly simplistic and straightforward, and his close proximity to Izaya is only making his thoughts even louder. Izaya groans and pinches the bridge of his nose.

What's wrong with you? Shizuo sends, and Izaya blinks up at him when he realizes Shizuo is now sending his thoughts freely and directly.

You're making my head hurt. Izaya thinks back. Shizuo growls a bit.

Good. You deserve it. Fuck you.

Izaya snorts and sips at his tea. This is new for them. In all the time Shizuo has spent here in his transformed state, he's never really conversed with Izaya before. The conversation isn't exactly thrilling, but it's an improvement over Shizuo's usual brooding pity party.

Izaya turns off his computer, deciding he's done playing with his humans tonight. He carries his tea with him as he pads over to the couch, passing by Shizuo again, who glowers at him the entire time. Izaya sits down on the couch and turns the TV on, flicking through some different channels before he decides on a cartoon he likes.

Shizuo isn't looking at the screen, but his ears are twitching towards the sound of whimsical music. Izaya wonders if Shizuo deprives himself of all creature comforts on nights of the full moon because he's afraid of this being his new normal, afraid of accepting this is his life now. It's laughable, and Izaya does laugh, can't stop himself. Shizuo's head whips towards him, dark eyes narrowed suspiciously, still incredibly human even in that distorted, monstrous face of his.

“Don't look at me like that. I'm only watching TV,” Izaya says, and he sips at his tea. Shizuo goes back to his pacing, his ears pulled back. He's pissed, as usual, and he wants to ask questions, but he knows Izaya won't answer them. Curiously, Izaya delves a little deeper into Shizuo's mind, wondering what it is exactly that Shizuo wants to know.

Out of my head. Shizuo sends angrily. Izaya pouts and obeys, wondering how Shizuo even sensed him eavesdropping.

You're no fun at all, Shizu-chan.

***

The first thing Izaya really notices when he stops floating along is that he doesn't recognize where he is. It's a normal-looking house, filled with pictures on the walls, and it takes a few moments for Izaya's eyes to focus on them long enough to make sense of the faces. Shizuo's picture is there, and he's smiling, flexing for the camera as Kasuka stands stiffly at his side. They're both young, and like this, with Shizuo's dark hair, it's incredibly easy to see the similarities between them. From a distance, they could be mistaken for the same person.

“Why are you here?” A voice asks from behind Izaya. He turns to face Shizuo, a spitting image of the child in the photograph. He's maybe ten years old, if Izaya had to guess. He's looking at Izaya like he knows who Izaya is, despite the drastic difference in their ages. “Get out.”

“I'm not sure why I'm here,” Izaya says, his hands going in his pockets. “Is there something you wanted to show me?”

“Fuck, no. I want you to get out.” Shizuo's fists are bloody, and his body is covered in tiny scrapes, his clothes filthy. He's been fighting. Izaya can't help but wonder when the fights started, how young Shizuo was the first time he was jumped.

“Am I dreaming?” Izaya asks aloud. He doesn't remember closing his eyes, but it's possible he passed out. He hasn't slept, and he hasn't eaten. He thinks of Shizuo in werewolf form, pacing around and refusing the comforts he desires and he scoffs.

“How the fuck should I know?” Shizuo's fingers twitch, and he's glancing nervously at the stairs. His parents are up there, Izaya realizes, and Shizuo is afraid of them for some reason. No, that's not it. He's not scared of them. He's scared of them being scared of him.

“Were you fighting? You're so young here,” Izaya says. The Shizuo he met was already broad-shouldered and blond, carrying a heavy reputation with that strength of his. This Shizuo is nervous, jittery, unsure of himself.

“You're in my head,” Shizuo accuses, and then he jolts as a door upstairs opens. “Why are you always in my head?”

“I don't know,” Izaya says honestly. “I'm beginning to think you want me to be here.”

A woman begins walking downstairs. She's strikingly pretty, her face similar to Shizuo's and Kasuka's, her dark eyes large and kind. She moves to Shizuo's side, putting her arms around him. She doesn't acknowledge Izaya.

“You didn't mean to,” she says, petting through Shizuo's hair. “You were trying to help.”

“I still hurt her,” Shizuo says, leaning into her and closing his eyes. He seems to have forgotten about Izaya. “I couldn't stop myself.”

“Kasuka said you were trying to do the right thing. You were only trying to scare the bad men away. You're a good, sweet boy, Shizuo.”

“Where's dad?” Shizuo asks, and his mother pulls away a little, giving him a false, gentle smile.

“On the phone with the police. Don't worry, they just want a report of what happened.”

“I already told them what happened.”

“Yes, but they want to hear it from an adult.”

Izaya looks from the scene to the doorway, which is shrouded in darkness. He makes his way over to it, stepping through, and he finds himself outside the wreckage of a convenience store, multiple people buried in the rubble. Shizuo is there, breathing heavily, Kasuka at his side.

“Was this your first time hurting an innocent person?” Izaya asks, and Shizuo snarls at him, tears in his eyes.

“Go away.”

“I can't,” Izaya says, and he walks towards the woman's unconscious body. “You throw your little tantrums all the time. Who knows how many people you've injured?”

“I don't mean to!” Shizuo shouts. Kasuka isn't paying either of them any attention, is only looking towards the distance where a cacophony of sirens are moving closer to them. “You hurt people more than me. You ruin lives all the fucking time, you like doing it. You're the real monster here and you know it!”

Izaya ignores him and looks around, deciding to explore all he can while he's here. Shizuo follows after him, face still contorted in rage.

“How would you fucking like it, huh, if we walked around your memories, all the things you don't want people to see out in the open? All the things you're scared of, ashamed of? How would you like it, flea?!”

Izaya scoffs, turns to tell him to shut up, but everything shifts around them, and they're suddenly in Izaya's childhood home, the twins both screaming in their cribs as a young Izaya curls in the corner, sobbing as the lights flicker around them and doors open and slam repeatedly. Shizuo's expression changes as he looks from Izaya's younger, terrified self, to the real Izaya in front of him.

“Flea?” Shizuo is older, suddenly, and he looks so fucking concerned that it makes Izaya's teeth click together.

“OUT!” Izaya roars, and the scene dissolves around them. He and Shizuo both wake with a start, still in Izaya's living room, Izaya on the couch, Shizuo curled up in the floor, human again, sunlight streaming through the windows.

“Wha— What was that?” Shizuo asks as he sits up, his voice unsteady. “Were you in my past? Was I in yours?”

“Get the fuck out,” Izaya hisses, scrambling to get off the couch and stand over Shizuo. “You had no right, no right.”

“I didn't do anything! You're the one with—magic. What did you do, huh?!”

“I don't fucking know!” Izaya snaps, and then he turns on his heel, marching towards the door. He steps into his shoes, throws his coat on. If Shizuo won't leave, then he will. He refuses to stay here with Shizuo looking at him like this, with pity clear in his gaze. The door slams behind him as he hurries out of the building, his skin prickling and his hands shaking more and more with every step he takes away from Shizuo.

#with teeth fic #shizaya #Izaya Orihara #Shizuo Heiwajima #werewolf shizuo #witchy izaya

26 notes · View notes

malkumtend · 3 years

Text

I Like Your Laugh (A SquirrelCrow AU) - Chapter 20.

For the first time in moons, Crowpaw was hungry.

Hunting had been as pointless as Tallstar had claimed. With the roar of monsters, as well as the lingering stink of Twolegs, prey was impossible to find. Worse than that, Crowpaw had seen those pale fleshed creatures skulking around the ruins of his home, carrying their storm of destruction with them.

They would mark the few trees left with a haze of red mist, and then bite into the thick bark with long silver claws. The crash of the wood as it slammed into the torn ground sent a tremble over Windclan. Every collision caused Crowpaw’s heart to tremble.

At this rate, it wouldn’t be long before the whole forest fell.

Hunting had been a fruitless effort. Crowpaw was the only one who had caught anything, but two withered shrew was not going to help the clans. Onewhisker had looked relieved at the mere sight of prey, and the way he praised Crowpaw was like he had caught a dozen hares.

“Well done, Crowpaw.” Onewhisker purred weakly as the hunting patrol made their way back. “That catch will help feed the kits another night.”

Nightcloud had mewed in agreement, her own face brightened at the stale scent of the shrews. Crowpaw had expected Webfoot to snarl the group back to reality, but the tom didn’t have a word to say, just a small grave nod.

Crowpaw attempted a small meow of thanks, but his throat instantly felt dry. The shrews hardly made up enough space to fill his mouth. Was this really all they could rely on to feed the starving kits and elders? He tried to not let this realisation mark his face with horror. It would do no good for anyone. Despite everything, the group was trying to keep some kind of determination; Crowpaw couldn’t kill that.

“Looks like all that travelling did some good for you, hey?” Nightcloud meowed, tapping his side with her tail. Under the darkening sky, her eyes lit up like pink embers. “You almost look like a natural hunter.”

Crowpaw nodded mildly, hoping the sound his throat made sounded more like a laugh than a groan.

“Don’t tease him, Nightcloud.” Onewhisker sighed tiredly, “We need all the prey we can find.”

“I was being serious.” The black molly insisted. “I wasn’t making fun of him.”

Onewhisker muttered something incoherent. Just looking at his back, it was clear that the tom had been discouraged by the hunt. As thankful as he was that some prey was caught for the kits that needed it so desperately, it was clear it would be a while before the thinning bodies of the Warriors got any end to their slow suffering.

Looking back at his still firm body, Crowpaw felt his growing hunger twist into guilt. He was nowhere near in the right to complain about prey.

Even standing besides the group, Crowpaw felt like he didn’t belong, didn’t deserve, to be there. By all means, he was able enough to get through the night without prey. Just how many queens, kits and elders had been forced to resign themselves to that fate.

The night air refused to respond to his question, it just scratched him with its freezing claws.

Once he’d taken the prey back, he’d have to find Tallstar. The time was approaching. Soon he would have to stand beside his…acquaintances from the other clans, hoping that they would receive a sign that told them where to go from here.

Crowpaw had never been so desperate to know an answer in all his life.

If any of the clans waited any longer, Crowpaw was certain that Windclan wouldn’t survive the next moon. Hunger, dehydration, and destruction was all that they would find here. Tallstar understood that, thankfully; Crowpaw could only hope the other clans would as well.

Unfortunately, the apprentice didn’t know whether they would share his clan’s sentiments.

He thought about what Tawnypelt and Stormfur would have to deal with when it came to their leaders. It didn’t matter how much they screamed the truth to their clans, ultimately it was up to Blackstar and Leopardstar if their clans moved or not. The Shadowclan leader would not be swayed easily. His pride was significantly excruciating from what Crowpaw remembered from previous gatherings.

And Leopardstar. At the thought of her, Crowpaw couldn’t help but feel fury prickle over his pelt. Tallstar had openly pleaded, putting all of his pride aside for his clan, the Riverclan leader to let them use the lake to drink. They hadn’t done that for nothing! Cats had needed that water then, it was essential now! Crowpaw thought the clans had reached an understanding.

Apparently not.

Leopardstar, based on the word of some no-clan stray who had sauntered his way into Riverclan, had pretty much left Windclan for dead. She had left every one of them to suffer on their own. Crowpaw knew that Windclan had taken some prey every now and then, but it certainly wasn’t enough that Riverclan would notice it was gone! Windclan needed to survive too!

But no. Whoever this Hawkfrost was, he had convinced Leopardstar that Windclan had earnt such a punishment! Did they not have cats of their own that were feeling the strains of these horrors? Could they really look at those cats and feed them, knowing that they had refused another clan such a necessity?! Crowpaw knew that Leopardstar was a cat who was frosty on her best days, but could she really be that cruel? If she trusted Windclan so little, who was to say she wouldn’t refuse to follow them to a new home?

Could Stormfur even convince her? He hadn’t even been the one who was…

Oh.

Oh Stars… no.

Crowpaw almost paused where he stood. Only walking on when he saw a concerned glint in Nightcloud’s eyes as he wobbled forward.

“Are you okay?”

Well, let’s see. He had left his clan to suffer, including his mother, while the home their entire clan had been rooted in for eons was being torn apart like it was nothing but sand, he had disgraced his father’s trust and was reminded of that with every disapproving flare of the stars above, and he might have ruined the clans hopes of getting Riverclan to follow them on their journey, destroying the history of the four clans themselves with a single paw, all because he hadn’t been the one who had rightfully died on that journey.

Did he mention it was his fault that an innocent cat, one of his best friends, had died to save his worthless pelt?

Crowpaw dipped his head at Nightcloud and she took that as a yes.

“Of course he’s okay.” Webfoot muttered, an audible curl on his lip. “He’s gotten everything he wanted.”

Crowpaw’s eyes snapped open.

“Webfoot!” Onewhisker turned his head to the tom with a warning growl. “Don’t you start any trouble.”

Webfoot grunted, “Why? He’s allowed to because he’s an apprentice.”

Crowpaw spat the shrews out of mouth, erupting with a snarl. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He demanded. There was a monster at the back of his head screaming at him to get into the tom’s face. “Gotten what I wanted? Are you trying to say that I wanted two-legs to come here?”

Nightcloud ran her tail over Crowpaw’s back. “Calm down.” Crowpaw ignored her, his eyes caught in a glare with the tom ahead of him.

Webfoot ignored the death stare that Onewhisker sent him. His eyes slid away from Crowpaw, disgusted. “No. But you got Tallstar to believe your stories. I bet you’re really proud to have that kind of influence.” He sounded like he was spitting out muck as he spoke.

Now, the demands to cause harm raced into a roar. Crowpaw couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Did Webfoot really think he was that shallow? “This isn’t about that at all, you piece of fox-dung!” Crowpaw’s shouting echoed over the hills. “It’s about-”

“Enough!” Onewhisker got between the two toms, hissing. “Both of you!”

Crowpaw was affronted, “He’s the one who-”

“I know that!” Onewhisker snapped, his stern snarl made Crowpaw cower away. “But Windclan doesn’t need the two of you fighting! If we have any hope of getting through this, we need to work together as a clan!” He turned back to Webfoot, his backfur prickling. “And we certainly don’t need any cats questioning the decisions of their leader!”

Webfoot frowned, one fang slipping over his lip. “That’s not what I was-”

“Quiet!” Onewhisker ordered. “Listen to me, Webfoot! I don’t care if you, or any cat for that matter, doesn’t believe in Crowpaw’s sign! If Tallstar decides that Windclan needs to move, that is what we will be doing!” The skinny tom took a pounding step towards Webfoot. “If you have an issue with that, then I’d be happy to take you to discuss it with Tallstar.” He dared with a snap of his teeth. It sounded like breaking a rabbit’s neck.

The panic Webfoot displayed was brief, but it was telling. His tail sank to the floor like a bird falling out of its nest. To his, limited, credit he kept his face straight. That was just all the more infuriating for Crowpaw.

“There’s no need for that.” Webfoot drawled. He lashed a look at Crowpaw. “And please don’t misunderstand, I hope that Crowpaw is right in what he says.” His eyes narrowed snakily. “If he’s wrong, who knows what would happen to Windclan.”

Crowpaw growled to not show weakness.

Like most things he did these days, it repressed the way his body shook at the words.

“Well then,” Nightcloud stepped forward, her claws unsheathed. “Why don’t you shut up and believe in him like Tallstar does, you waste of fur!”

“Nightcloud!” Onewhisker hissed, “What did I just say about fighting?”

The molly scoffed, muttering a fake apology as she looked away. Webfoot didn’t reply, he had apparently decided he’d said enough.

And it was enough that Crowpaw got the point.

Onewhisker maintained a strained silence between the cats, before he let out a croaky sigh. He sounded like he was releasing the pain from his weakening joints. “Let’s not waste anymore time.” He frowned over at Crowpaw. “Pick up those shrews. There are cats who need them.”

Crowpaw looked down to where he’d spat out the sorry excuses for prey, and his heart dropped with disgrace. Those shrews could be what separated a cat from life and death, and he’d spat them out like some kittypet sulking at a two-leg. A horrible, regretful embarrassment clouded over the cat. He stuttered over his own selfishness.

“I-I’m sorry, Onewhisker.”

Onewhisker gave him a hard look that was hard to describe. It made Crowpaw uneasy. The older cat’s whiskers shook with a grunt. “Sorry doesn’t feed cats. Now pick up that prey and make sure you don’t drop it again until you’re in front of someone who needs it!”

Crowpaw dipped his head. The knowledge that his actions made him a liability sent him cold. “Yes, Onewhisker.” Carefully, he picked the shrews up again. When he looked up, Onewhisker was already strolling off, soon followed by Webfoot. The tom made sure to swipe his tail at Crowpaw before he turned away with a malicious scoff.

Crowpaw stared in their direction, then he began to follow them. What else could he do? He couldn’t blame Onewhisker for his fury, the cat had been struggling to make sure Windclan didn’t fall. If Crowpaw didn’t know any better he could have assumed that the cat was the Deputy.

He couldn’t even blame Webfoot really. Well… no. The cat was a fox-heart who had no right to claim those things about him. Crowpaw would never want any of this. But he could see how it looked. An apprentice that had ran away and come back without a reason he could prove and had convinced their leader to follow his advice. It made sense that Webfoot wouldn’t trust him.

That just worked to make Crowpaw feel worse.

If it made sense, then just how much could his clan trust him? How much could he trust himself to save them from an agonising fate?

Searching for those answers was like swimming through fog and ice.

A sympathetic purr rumbled at his side. Nightcloud was looking at him softly. “Don’t pay any attention to Webfoot. He’s always been a burr-furred mange pelt.”

If Crowpaw could open his mouth, he might have muttered a thanks to her. He kept silent. It didn’t matter really. He still ended up thinking, ‘Just because he’s a mange pelt, it doesn’t mean he’s wrong.’ Webfoot’s intentions, no matter what mouse-bile he spewed, were clear. He didn’t forgive Crowpaw for abandoning Windclan. He wanted to punish the apprentice, however he could.

Crowpaw had done everything he thought was right.

Crowpaw had done everything for the purpose of helping Windclan.

But that didn’t exclude the idea that maybe… he deserved to be punished.

“Hey?” Nightcloud murmured, “Do you want me to carry one of those for you?”

She was offering to help him carry some measly shrews?

Did he actually look that pathetic?

He shook his head. She watched him patiently, as if hopeful he would change his mind, before turning away with a sigh. She didn’t need to help him. Any burden for the clan was one Crowpaw deserved to carry.

The thought didn’t leave Crowpaw even when he returned to the ‘camp’ Windclan had fashioned, not when Nightcloud pointed to him the tattered base of an old rabbit warren where they were sheltering the kits, not when the dark molly gave him a well-natured touch with her muzzle, and not when he slowly walked past his clanmates, all scarred, starving, or both, trying their best to get some rest in this terrible place.

His good intentions did not change everything that had happened because of him. Even as he walked by his clanmates, he could hear the gravelly whispers all around him. They didn’t sound happy. Crowpaw almost looked like he was trying to hide his head between his shoulders, unspeakably afraid to catch any cat’s gaze. If he turned and saw every cat view him with hatred, he didn’t know if he could carry on walking.

He cursed himself for looking so pathetic. He could only imagine what cats were thinking. He didn’t want to picture what they’d think when Tallstar revealed why he’d truly been gone. This shaking, moody apprentice was what their fates rested on.

Perhaps the forest would be the more honourable way to die.

Unlatching himself from these thoughts was like scratching at a rock. The truth came on him, refusing to let him go. He deserved the looks. He deserved the hate. And if he was being honest, he would have deserved Webfoot finishing him off with a bite to his throat. Admitting these things was almost relieving for the cat, like he was finally facing the inevitable.

He had given Windclan the message they needed.

What use – what good - was he to them anymore?

“Where are you going?”

Crowpaw jolted where he stood, his ears drifting back fearfully. He slowly met the eyes of his mentor. Mudclaw was looking down at him irritably, the night made his amber eyes flicker. Crowpaw could barely move as he remembered how the Deputy had been earlier. How he had not believed Crowpaw’s explanation and had looked betrayed when his leader did.

Mudclaw growled into the silence. “You should drop what you have in your mouth if you’re going to answer.”

Crowpaw could barely meet Mudclaw’s gaze as he gently dropped the shrews. “I was… I was going to take these to the Queens. That way the kits can get some milk.”

Mudclaw rolled his eyes, “I’m aware of how feeding kits works, Crowpaw.” He sounded as gruff as he looked. His back wasn’t spiked, but it still looked jagged and rough, like sand under a blistering sun. His face was dull with fatigue. “Good hunting I see?” He said, his voice dreadfully sarcastic.

Crowpaw dropped his head again. Even before leaving for the journey, there was nothing that made him curl up like the disappointment of his mentor. “There wasn’t much to catch.”

“I know that as well.” Mudclaw said, “I suppose that’s another reason we need to leave, hmm?” The sarcasm swiped again.

Crowpaw didn’t say anything. There would be no good response to that.

Mudclaw peered down at the shrews, sitting down and stretching his forelegs with a groan. “Truth be told, it is not easy to find prey around here. I had hoped that after a few days we would know where we could find some again.” His voice dimmed. “Regretfully, there hasn’t been much success.” He sniffed at the shrews and, to Crowpaw’s surprise, his mentor let out a laugh that almost sounded glad. “Not much of a mouthful, but at least they’re fresh.”

Whether it was the bleak praise of his mentor, or the idea that his actions could have been of any good in the first place, a calm purr rumbled in Crowpaw’s throat.

“Luckily,” Mudclaw started again, grooming his shoulder with snappy bites. “You won’t have to choose between a Queen to feed. Only Whitetail hasn’t received prey since yesterday. Thankfully, you’ve changed that.”

Whitetail. Realisation rushed through the apprentice. So that was why Onewhisker looked so happy to see the prey. His own mate could finally get the kill she needed for their kits.

“I’m… I’m glad I could help somehow.”

“Was there really nothing else to find?”

Crowpaw mewed sadly, “Nothing. And we won’t be able to scent anything now. The only smell around here is the stink of those monsters.”

Mudclaw hissed behind his teeth. “Fox-dung to it all.” Crowpaw could have been frightened by how grave his mentor sounded. Defeat was not something he had ever been able to associate with his leader. The older cat grumbled a moment more, before he stumbled over to his apprentice. Crowpaw tried not to flinch as the cat smelt his pelt.

“Well,” Mudclaw’s voice was low, but not hard. “At the very least, you saw more of this territory.” He scoffed humourlessly, “You almost smell like Windclan again.”

Crowpaw knew better than to show how much those words sank into him.

Mudclaw padded back, studying his apprentice with a narrowed expression. “I was thinking about what Webfoot said earlier.” He said slowly, “What did he mean when he mentioned that Thunderclan cat. Owlpaw sought me out to tell me that she…” Mudclaw let his words loosen as his stare hardened. Crowpaw knew what Mudclaw was going to ask about and a sheer sense of fear stalked into his chest. “Embraced you. Is that right?”

The night air was growing too cold for Crowpaw. Why else would his paws shake so much?

It wasn’t fair! He had nothing to feel guilty about! He never asked her to do that! He had tried to say goodbye without igniting any suspicion among the clans, he had been loyal and fair about it! It wasn’t his fault if she couldn’t take that. It wasn’t his paws that had pulled her so close to him! It wasn’t him who had left her scent all over him! He wasn’t to blame! She was!

And yet, despite all these things, he couldn’t find it in his chest to be angry at Squirrelpaw.

He knew he should. He knew that if he allowed the rage of how she had made him look disloyal compel him to just a hiss, it would retain the normalcy that he had to reclaim.

For both their sakes.

Fox-dung! Why were his thoughts on her side? Why was he still brought to concern over her?

“Yes.” Crowpaw said, his voice as strong as a cloud.

Mudclaw eased back slightly, but his gaze still burned. “Why would she do that? Are you two ‘friends’?” Mudclaw’s tail thumped down at the word.

Say no. That’s all he had to do.

“We were allies.” Crowpaw said. The feeling in his chest was softening the race of his brain. Something inside him told him to tell the truth, but to not give too much away. The worry in his heart was not for himself. “We had to be. We travelled together that long, after all.”

Mudclaw did not look satisfied. “That doesn’t answer why she did that once you were on Windclan territory.”

Crowpaw kept fixed on his mentor, but he thought he could see a twitch under the moonlight. Was it the refletion of a claw? Crowpaw breathed in softly. “She was just saying goodbye. She was wishing me luck.” He shrugged innocently, “I guess that’s just her way of doing that.”

Mudclaw sniffed, “Interesting way, if you ask me.” His stare still prickled on Crowpaw’s skin for a long time. Crowpaw held onto the grass under his feet, begging that somehow he wasn’t showing any weakness. If Mudclaw suspected something else, who knew what he would do? Crowpaw didn’t want to know what the cat did with cats he suspected were traitors.

Crowpaw wasn’t a traitor!

But… neither was Squirrelpaw.

Crowpaw knew, he just knew, that Squirrelpaw wouldn’t have done that if she thought she would get Crowpaw in trouble. They had been like that, close, throughout the journey. She wouldn’t have thought she was doing anything wrong by just hugging him one last time.

Suddenly, Crowpaw’s tongue felt dry. Of course, she wouldn’t have thought that. Because she hadn’t done anything wrong. She had just hugged a friend. Besides, Crowpaw, all those moons ago, had been the one to do it first, when the fear of losing her had made his eyes water. It had been him that had told her he wished to keep seeing her once this was all over.

His heart sank again.

Maybe… this was also his fault. If he had given her the idea that it was okay, even when they had returned, then could he blame her. If he’d had any sense, he would have shut the idea down there and then!

The idea of doing that filled his head again. The normal strain resolved. Clan life resumed. The disappointment that would have stung her expression. The way that saying no would make his own heart break.

Crowpaw’s closed his eyes with a quiet hiss. What was wrong with him?!

He swiftly looked up at his mentor again, ignoring the way he had risen a brow. If he wasn’t careful he would have given his friendship with Squirrelpaw away. And that would be a disaster for the both of them.

But didn’t he want to be punished? If he was truthful, and accepted responsibility, then wouldn’t that make him a real Warrior?

It was the idea of having Squirrelpaw punished as well that made him silence that thought.

She didn’t deserve that. Only he did.

“After she’d done that, I got her off me and told her to go back to Thunderclan where she was needed.” Crowpaw explained stonily. “That was it. Or did Owlpaw tell you differently?”

The stink of the monsters wafted over Windclan, as venomous as Mudclaw’s silence. The Deputy drummed his claws into the grass, fire still pure in his stare. “And that was all?” It sounded more like a threat than a question.

“That was all.”

Crowpaw must have sounded convincing, because Mudclaw blinked and he looked satisfied. “I see. And no, that does match what Owlpaw told me.” Crowpaw was kind of thankful that the apprentice had been truthful, at least. “That’s good. I was concerned that you’d forgotten your place.”

Place.

Not Clan.

Crowpaw shook his head, trying to look prideful. “Of course not, Mudclaw. The journey is over now, the only concern I have is for Windclan. The other’s will need to look out for their own clans.”

He hoped they could do that easier than he was finding it.

Mudclaw nodded, “I’m glad you know that, Crowpaw.” He let out a bitter chuckle, “If Thunderclan is lucky, maybe that molly realise the same.”

Crowpaw hoped that she did too. But that didn’t stop his claws from tensing unconsciously. He drew them back in before his mentor noticed, screaming inwardly to follow his own words.

“Hopefully.” Crowpaw managed to say. “If the Clans are to survive the journey, they’ll need to.”

Mudclaw looked irritable again. “Ah yes. You’ll need to find Tallstar soon, won’t you?”

Crowpaw grit his teeth as he realised his stupidity. He’d forgotten Mudclaw’s feelings about their travels. “I-I swear that this is the right decision, Mudclaw.” He meowed. The older cat didn’t look his way, his neck fur swaying in the icy breeze. “Windclan will survive if we do this, I promise.”

Mudclaw shrugged with a scoff, “Well, you’ve convinced Tallstar of that. I suppose that’s all that matters!” Crowpaw tried to be sympathetic to the Deputy as he remembered the way Tallstar had shut Mudclaw’s objections down. Crowpaw believed that Mudclaw’s suspicions were driven by his concern for Windclan, and it wouldn’t be easy for any cat to abandon their home when they didn’t see a need to.

Still, Mudclaw needed to trust in Starclan. Trust in Crow… Trust in Tallstar’s decision.

“I’m not lying to you.” Crowpaw meowed, “There is a better place somewhere.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” Crowpaw drew back sharply, taken aback. Mudclaw stared out, as if over the whole of the clan. His jaw was tight as his eyes creased with frustration. “I can see that our home is being destroyed. Of course, there is some place where we can go. Silverpelt does not shine over just the flowers, after all. But it’s whether we can make such a journey that bothers me!”

Crowpaw’s jaw slowly dipped from his mouth. It was rare he heard such apprehension from his mentor. He almost sounded pained.

“Cats haven’t eaten or drank for close to a moon, and when we have it’s just been those kind of catches,” He lashed his tail to the dirty shrews, “Everywhere I look, my clanmates are suffering and I can’t see how telling them to wander through the forest will help them in anyway!”

Crowpaw now saw the real mortification on his mentor’s face. Windclan was the only thing in Mudclaw’s mind. “If we stay here, we’ll all die.” Crowpaw said morosely, “I know it sounds crazy, but there isn’t anything else we can do.”

Mudclaw rolled his eyes. “I think there are many options we have, Crowpaw.” The older cat drawled, “But like I said, it doesn’t matter now. Tallstar agrees with you, and if he decides to go then I will have to follow my leader to the end.”

Crowpaw may have felt hope if not for the grave frown on the Deputy’s face.

“However,” His voice was low, “I fear that Tallstar may be approaching that end already.”

His words were like being torn apart limb from limb. Freezing horror wrapped all over Crowpaw. Surely Mudclaw wasn’t suggesting what he thought he was. “What do you mean?”

Mudclaw narrowed his eyes, but his muzzle creased with upset. “Crowpaw, you’re not a mouse-brain. You have seen Tallstar since you came back here, and you and I both know that he is not… well.”

Truthfully, Crowpaw had noticed it. He was sure any cat would. The way the leader coughed after a mere sentence, the way he had relied on Onewhisker’s side to walk strong, how when he spoke it sounded as if rocks were cutting into his throat. It was true. Tallstar did not look well at all.

“He may keep strong for now, but he is not getting stronger with every moon that passes.” Mudclaw gazed up at the hollow light of the moon above them, his eyes bleak with thought. “If he can’t do that in his own clan, I fail to see how travelling would not make things worse. Additionally, if the other clans saw him in that state they would use it for their own advantage, of that I’m certain.” His teeth grit with the last line.

Crowpaw’s mouth opened but he couldn’t find the correct words. The idea that this journey could cause his leader to… His gaze found the ground again, dilated and afraid. “The…The other clans wouldn’t do that.” He hated how uncertain he sounded. “We have to work together if we…”

“Your logic makes sense, Crowpaw.” Mudclaw cut him off, stepping forward with a sigh. There was such a sense of authority in his step that Crowpaw had to step back. “But you cannot speak for the other clans or how they think. No matter how much you may have trusted those cats on your journey, there will always be those…” A low growl rumbled in his chest, “That will grin at the sight of weakness. Without a strong leader, we are vulnerable, and when that happens we can’t afford to lose our freedom for the sake of some temporary peace!” He stepped beside Crowpaw, pressing his tail hard into his side. “It may be the worst scenario, but it is there nonetheless. Windclan needs its Warriors to remember what side they’re on, they need to be willing to fight for that. Can I trust you to do that if the time comes?”

He spoke of a future that no one could truly understand. No one knew what was on its way.

But, by the Stars, Crowpaw was scared of how convincing Mudclaw sounded.

It made perfect sense after all. The clans had been rivals for generations. Before the journey, if Crowpaw had known that a leader from the enemy was sick, he would have howled with laughter at the idea of that clan becoming weaker. He could expect as much from them. Those feelings surely couldn’t just disappear because they were forced into this terrible partnership.

But when he thought of the journey. When he imagined the faces of his… He couldn’t, didn’t want to, imagine that they would do something like that after everything they’d been through.

But then… maybe that was the problem.

Maybe that showed how backwards Crowpaw had become.

It was time to face facts. There was no hope that anything real could survive with the cats he’d known. Their very nature wouldn’t allow it. Besides, Crowpaw had not been of any real use to them.

Feathertail hadn’t come home because of him.

No, with them… It would be better if they just never saw him again once all this was done.

He’d forgotten his loyalty, the loyalty ingrained in his blood, and he knew Windclan would not hesitate to remind him of that in the future. And that was fine.

He deserved to pay for everything he’d done. To every clan.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t try to be of use while he awaited that punishment.

Windclan deserved better than him, and they could get better than he ever was, but he still needed to work for them when they needed it. This was his one chance to do some real good in his life.

He needed to make sure Windclan knew he was loyal. He needed to make sure his previous friends knew where his loyalty really was. If they couldn’t grasp that, then he needed to remind them of it. They had all hated him at the start. He needed to make sure it was like that once again.

Even though… he didn’t think he could ever hate them again.

But that was why he needed to keep the line clear. Once they were all back to normal in their clans, it had to get better for them. They deserved that kind of ending.

That was why they couldn’t be friends anymore.

So when he suddenly found himself thinking of Squirrelpaw and her cheeky, amazing smile, he let the guilt and self-revulsion take him over. He accepted the sickness in his stomach and called it disloyalty.

If he wanted her to be safe, he needed to shut her away.

Even when the thought of that made his sickness worse.

“Yes, Mudclaw.” Crowpaw said, his voice hollow and found.

Mudclaw stepped away, his eyes never leaving Crowpaw. His eyes blazed like an owl’s. “Good. It’s important you understand what’s right if we find ourselves in that situation.”

“I understand.” Crowpaw said, dipping his head.

A real sound of contentment left Mudclaw. Crowpaw tried to let it ease him. “Excellent.” There was a long silence after that. Then a heavy exhale exited the Deputy and Crowpaw felt a tail smooth over his back. “I do hope that you’re right about this journey, Crowpaw. There is nothing I want more than for my clan to survive.”

Crowpaw sensed a ‘but’ so he didn’t take that as acceptance.

“But, just remember where your real allies are if the time comes. Understand?”

Crowpaw hated that he was right. He couldn’t speak this time so he just nodded his head.

Mudclaw made a pleased mrrow. “Now, take your prey to Whitetail and then go and find Tallstar. The sooner we have a real plan, the better. No matter what happens.” Something was hidden in how he said that, but he was gone before the chill had found Crowpaw’s tail.

He realised it was stupid to think about that.

Mudclaw was his Deputy. Mudclaw was Windclan. That made him an ally. That was where his trust needed to be.

Crowpaw picked up the prey again and strode quickly to the stinking, damaged warren. Sure enough, Whitetail was there. Her eyes were dark with exhaustion and sorrow as she listened to the three small kits at her belly cry hungrily as they suckled for milk that wasn’t there.

Crowpaw’s heart ached. No wonder Onewhisker accepted his story so easily. Anything was better than this.

Whitetail slowly lifted her head as Crowpaw approached. Suddenly, her eyes flickered open as a high mew of relief escaped her mouth. “Crowpaw!” She cried. “You have prey!”

Crowpaw dropped the shrews beside the molly, he tried not to look at how her ribs jutted when she moved to grab them. “That’s all we could find. I’m sorry there isn’t more.”

Whitetail shot him a wide-eyed glance, purring happily. “Don’t be mouse-brained! This is wondeful!” She stared down at the shrews like they were a pile of hares, then she nuzzled the kits closer to her belly. “Just wait a little longer, my darlings. I’ll soon have some milk for you.” Her eyes shone with love and when she smiled it looked like something she had almost forgotten how to do. “What do we say to Crowpaw?”

The kits mewed again, huddling to their mother for warmth.

Whitetail let out a soft mutter, laughing was too difficult these days. “They say thank you.”

Crowpaw dipped his head respectfully, “Tell them that they don’t need to. Any Warrior would do the same.” His eyes gently lifted to the white molly’s. “Also, let them know that whatever prey is given to me will be yours.”

An incredible gasp erupted from the Queen. “Don’t be ridiculous! I can’t accept that!”

“Yes you can.” Crowpaw said simply, “They need it more than me.”

“Crowpaw, that’s honourable of you to say so. But you are still an apprentice.” Her face was pure with gratitude. “You need your strength as well.”

“I’m strong enough as I am.” I don’t deserve to eat. “You look like you haven’t eaten for moons. You need to eat, I can survive without food for a few days.”

“Crowpaw, I-”

“With all due respect, Whitetail.” The apprentice said softly, lightly brushing his tail over the kits. “I’ve made up my mind. You won’t change it.”

Whitetail was silent with shock. Her face was a mix of awe and uncertainty. Crowpaw didn’t give her the chance to argue further. “Sleep well.” He said, to her and her kits. Then he rose up and turned away. He needed to find Tallstar now. Moonhigh was not far away.

“Crowpaw!”

Crowpaw sighed, but he kept calm as he turned back to the starving mother.

Her smile was a white as her fur, and notably overcome with joyful appreciation. She took a bite out of her shrew and then ran her tongue slowly over her kit’s small pelts, happier than she had been in moons. “I’m glad you’re back. Windclan missed you.”

That wasn’t true, Crowpaw thought. But he nodded, feeling underserving of such kindness.

“I’ll do anything for Windclan.”

What else could he do?

If he didn’t he might as well not be alive.

#crowfeather #crowpaw #squirrelflight #squirrelpaw #crowsquirrel #squirrelcrow #I like your laugh #Warriors #Warrior Cats #warriors fic #mudclaw #onewhisker #windclan

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star-spangledstud · 4 years

Text

Diamonds

Pairing: Steve Rogers x (female!)reader

Summary: You knew exactly how to push Steve’s buttons.

Word Count: 4000-ish.

Warnings: +18 SMUT (don’t read if you’re a minor), dom!Steve, slight daddy!kink if you squint, rough intercourse, no protection (wrap it before you tap it), reckless driving (don’t do it, kids.), cursing

A/N: I’ve been posting a lot of content. We’ll see how long I’m able to keep the creative juices flowing. Quarantine’s got me all fucked up, but at least it’s given me time to waste on Tumblr. Enjoy :)

Steve was angry. He was fucking pissed off, to be exact and it was all because of you. You knew it, felt the way his eyes drilled holes in your back all night. You could practically sense him fuming from across the club, even though the darkness as a result of the smoke machine near the spinning table engulfed you and the 150 other people in the room.

Of course, it was Tony’s idea to rent one of the fanciest clubs in NYC for the night. You’d completed a very big mission just a few weeks ago, and after everyone had time to heal in the medical bay and file the appropriate paperwork, the case was closed at last, and he insisted on a celebration unlike any other.

Bottles of champagne flowed across the dancefloor. Sweaty bodies of special agents, paper pushers from the lowest possible level and Avengers alike, all pressed up against each other in the room hotter than what you imagined hell to be like. You didn’t even fucking feel like going when Tony first proposed the idea, but everybody knew you couldn’t say no to him. Nobody could say no to him and his lavish parties. Not to mention the fact that you never wanted to go and yet you always managed to be the last to leave. You blamed the alcohol.

He’d hired the best DJ in town. His tunes kept you on your feet despite the fact that they were starting to get sore, hips swaying sensually to the music in between Natasha and some random level 3 agent whose name you couldn’t remember for the life of you. He was just as tall as you in your patent leather Louboutins, his hair swept carelessly to one side. He clearly hadn’t changed after work, because he still had his SHIELD pin mended to his breast pocket. You’d just pulled his tie to drag him closer to you, which earned another hard glare from Steve. Everybody in the fucking room knew you were his, they didn’t even dare to come close to you, but this guy was clearly wasted and you’d initiated it.

You could feel level 3′s dick through his pants while he continued to grind against your ass, just as you did to Natasha. You smiled, bopping your head along to the song, your curly hair bouncing lusciously up and down. A quick glance towards the bar made you snicker soundlessly, afraid he’d be able to hear you despite the loud music and people singing along. The thought of him being able to smell the perfume on your skin, his favorite, from all the way over there made your heart flutter and your stomach tighten.

He looked fucking good. Hair slicked back, deep red button-down loosened at the top tucked tightly into dark denim. He hadn’t shaved, he knew damn well how much you liked that, and his eyes weren’t so blue anymore in the strobe lights that illuminated him every twenty seconds. They looked black as if his pupils had bled into his irises.

You’d put effort into your appearance too, he could tell in an instant. Your lipgloss sparkled the same as the diamond necklace he had given you that hung around your neck. He remembered buying it for you, eyes nearly rolling out of his fucking skull when the guy that helped him pick it out told him the price. Your dress, black and short, had a split so high he was certain he could see your pussy if you made a wrong move, meaning level 3 could see it too.

He downed another glass of scotch, slamming it down on the bar with a growl so low only Bucky could hear it. He shook his head at his friend, who also refused to get on the dancefloor. The way 21st-century people danced was unlike anything they were used to seeing back in their day. He couldn’t get drunk, but Steve could taste the alcohol on his tongue and the warmth of it in the back of his throat when he gulped another glass down. He hadn’t even noticed Bucky left him for Bruce, who also wasn’t dancing. Didn’t give a fuck, either way. All he had eyes for was you, showing off his money like it was yours, to begin with.

You didn’t do that often. You were humble, wore jeans and a t-shirt on most days, didn’t indulge much. You tried to live sustainably where possible through recycling and cruelty-free beauty products. Hell, Steve had only actually seen you wear the necklace a handful of times, including your aunt’s wedding just to piss her off and make her jealous. He knew you had money too, it was a perk of being an Avenger, but spending money on yourself wasn’t the same as lavish gifts from your handsome as fuck boyfriend. Besides, you donated a lot of it to animal shelters and safe houses for women.

“The party’s out there, you know?”

You gulped, skin-crawling in fear when Steve appeared out of the bathroom stall without warning. How long he’d been hiding the bathroom you didn’t know, but he knew it was you the second you pushed open the door and stepped inside.

He could smell that guy on you as you stood in front of him, cheeks red from dancing and stray hairs sticking out from the sea of curls. It made his fists curl, his brow crease. He was mad as hell.

“You scared me,” you said exasperatedly, blood rushing to your cheeks when he stepped out of the shadows and into view.

He didn’t smile back to you, which told you exactly how the night was going to go down.

“You havin’ fun?” He asked, walking around you in a circle after you stepped away from the dirty mirror.

He wanted to drink you in, take in your appearance while you still looked put together. Soon enough, the charade would be over and he’d have your make up smeared, clothes on the floor and your hair a mess.

“Yeah,” you smirked, “you?”

“Not yet,” he growled in your ear, “but I will.”

He’d disappeared as quickly as he’d appeared, leaving you leaning against the dusty sink, breathing deeply in and out through your nose. When you trusted in your ability to stand up without tripping over your own feet, you grabbed your lipgloss from your purse, along with your perfume, of which you added two more spritzes. You didn’t want him to know how easily he was able to get to you, how easily he was able to make you shake.

He had a plan, concocted it while drinking expensive scotch at the bar. Steve came up with it while he was watching you grind on another man. He knew why you did it, you wanted to get a rise out of him, and getting a rise out of him was exactly what you did. Of course, he could do the same to you, which is why he left you stumbling in the bathroom with nothing but a promise he intended to keep.

You returned to the floor after getting another vodka sprite from the other end of the bar. He noticed how empty your wrist was and told himself he’d buy you a diamond bracelet to match the necklace. You’d like that. He’d fuck you raw and stupid after giving it to you, just like he did when he gave you the necklace.

Even when you were starting to get a buzz, you could still feel his fucking eyes on you, never leaving your swaying hips, bouncing tits and shaking ass. For a moment, the two of you made eye contact. Instantly, you knew you were screwed. You could read him like a book.

“Steve,” you gasped when his hands tightly gripped your waist suddenly, “you’re dancing.”

He was on the dancefloor, yeah, but the man was hardly dancing. The only thing he was moving was his hips against your ass. He didn’t need to tell Level 3′s sorry ass to fuck off, the look on his face had the young man scrambling away in fear immediately. Natasha had left minutes before, busying herself with the hottest bartender in the club while he poured her a dirty martini with five olives.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He whispered in your ear, lips pushing against soft flesh. His beard scratched your throat, sending delicious tingles down your entire spine.

“What do you mean?” You asked, pretending to be oblivious, “I’m not doing anything.”

Steve’s hand caressed your hip, snaking around the front to touch your barely clothed pussy. Your cheeks reddened, eyes frantically searching for anyone who might be watching but finding none. Everyone around you was either drunk or making out.

“What are you doing Steve?!” You hissed, biting your tongue, “Someone might see us.”

“I don’t care. This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he asked, kissing the side of your face and neck, “it is, I know it.”

He dragged you out of the club and into his BMW, harshly securing your seatbelt before getting behind the wheel. His knuckles were white against the steering wheel the entire drive, and you could see him straining against his pants. You didn’t say anything, the only sound audible being the angrily revving engine of his car. He was flooring it the whole way there, ignoring red lights and swerving around every car on the road that was in his way.

“See how it feels when you tease me,” he mumbled, “you’re gonna be fucking sorry real soon.”

“No,” you stammered, “please.”

He sat down on the bed, grabbing your wrists and yanking you down over his lap. You kicked your heels in the air in an attempt to get free from his iron grasp, but he only needed one hand to restrain you while the other traveled up the back of your legs so slowly it made you want to cry. His hand disappeared under your dress and found no panties, just as he expected. He knew you too well.

“You’re real bad, aren’t you?” He asked, retrieving his hand back so he could pull the dress up to expose your naked pussy, “did you think I was gonna let you get away with what you just did to me?”

“I didn’t do anything!” you mewled, “I swear.”

“Grinding up on that guy all night? Letting him touch you in front of me? How dare you?”

He caressed your ass, tracing his fingers over your lips before smacking both cheeks without warning. You squirmed, wiggling on top of him. You’d seen him angry before but only on rare occasions; either when he was chasing after bad guys, or when you’d pissed him off and this time, you’d pissed him off real good. Just like you wanted to do.

“Don’t you dare move against my dick,” he said with a tug on your hair, “or you don’t get to cum.”

He plunged three fingers into your mouth, silently ordering you to suck on them while he continued to keep your wrists bound. You already knew what was going to happen and it took every ounce of strength for you not to move. He chuckled when you nibbled on his fingers, coating each and every one of the three with your saliva.

He plunged them into you without warning. You cried out, unable to stop yourself from trying to break from his grip on you. You were already wet, probably didn’t even need the saliva, but it helped his fingers glide in so easily it made him want to laugh. You were putty in his hands and he knew it. How the hell had he gone from being little, insecure, baby Steve to this man, this unrelenting, unforgiving force of a man?

“Shut up,” he growled, picking up the pace, “did I tell you you could make noise?”

“N-no,” you stammered, “no Steve.”

His fingers left your cunt before you could properly enjoy it. You knew why he did it; he was getting you ready for his cock. You’d had it countless times in places you couldn’t even recall, had it gently and so hard you couldn’t talk after, but you always needed time to adjust.

He grabbed ahold of your legs with his slick-coated fingers and picked you up, effortlessly tossing you onto the bed like a ragdoll. You heaved, hair already beginning to stick to your forehead while you watched him slowly unbutton his shirt.

“What do I keep telling you about pissing me off, huh?” He taunted, slipping the shirt over his broad shoulders.

“I told you not to do that,” his pants were next, falling limply at his feet after he unzipped and unbuttoned them, “but you don’t listen. You don’t listen because you like what happens when I’m mad, don’t you?”

“No, I’m sorry,” you breathed, gazing up at him through fake eyelashes, “I didn’t mean to-”

You weren’t sorry. You enjoyed this, this side of Steve. Loved it even, how sometimes, he was able to let go of his own righteousness and give in to his darkness. It had taken almost a year of being in a vanilla relationship for him to show you this side of him, and you’d ached for it ever since. You did it on purpose, grinding with other people, dressing up in clothing inappropriate for the occasion. Short skirts, tight blouses, and fuck, those sheer black stockings with the black stripe running along the back of your heel to your panties. Short shorts and cropped tops in the summer, so short they nearly showed off your fucking tits. He hated it because men worldwide couldn’t help but look at you even though you were his and his alone. You were his prized possession.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“You know,” you answered smugly, “I could feel his erection on my ass the whole time.”

Steve growled, pushing your back into the mattress before starting towards you.

“I told you what happens when you make me angry,” he said, lowering himself onto the bed until he was straddling you, one leg on each side of your trembling hips, “you know what happens, don’t you?”

“Yes, Steve,” you moaned, rocking your hips up against him.

You gripped his bicep, but once again, he used his hand to bind your wrists, this time holding them above your head, “You gonna be good for me and apologize?”

“Yes,” you cried out, “I’m sorry!”

You still weren’t. In fact, you had to fight the urge to grin. You had him right where you wanted him, despite his hold on you. You wanted him to fuck you until you couldn’t see straight and he was going to give it to you either way.

He let go of you, hands traveling across the diamonds around your neck. He ripped the necklace from your throat in one single motion, earning a gasp and a loud ‘what the fuck?!’ from you when it snapped in half. He tossed it to the ground as if it was trash, discarding it like it hadn’t cost him the price of a house.

“Daddy’s gonna buy you a whole lot more diamonds if you’re good,” he whispered, “Is that what gets your little pussy dripping? Me spending my hard-earned money on you? Answer me!”

“Fuck yes,” you replied, “shoes, too. And a car.”

He laughed, taking your clothed tits and rubbing them before ripping the silk dress in half with his bare hands.

“What do you need a car for? You don’t even drive. I do. I’m like your fucking private chauffeur, always driving you around.” He was right about that.

You smirked, “want you to fuck me in it.”

Steve began to grow tired of your mind games. His dick was hard as granite, as were his bulging muscles, and he needed a release fast. He’d go back to being sweet old Steve after he got what he wanted, but for now, he was a man in heat, needing to take what was rightfully his. One of the busted diamonds pierced the skin on your ass when you found yourself laying on it, but you didn’t care. You welcomed the sting.

Steve rolled you over until you were on your stomach. With one arm around your throat in a chokehold, he lifted up your body, taking you in a position that could almost be classified as Doggystyle. He lined himself up with your entrance, enjoying the lovely sight and the sweet smell of your pussy dripping just for him. Your love for him was like a fucking disease and unfortunately, it turned out to be terminal. You ached with anticipation while he dragged the head of his cock along your entrance, back and forth between your pussy lips.

The air was taken from your lungs when he shoved himself inside you, not wasting any time with pleasantries and soft-spoken words. He bit down on your shoulder, earning a loud moan to escape your lips. He wasn’t gentle, this wasn’t making love, but it was what you both desired and he was more than happy to give it to you.

You whined breathlessly, pussy clenching around the length of his cock as he drove into you.

“Could’ve just told me you wanted me to fuck you,” he groaned, “’stead of makin’ me all mad at Tony’s party.”

You wanted to tell him off and if you would, he’d probably have to tell you you were right because he never did this unless he had a reason, but your mouth remained shut instead. Steve was a softy at all times, sweet and gentle and a true gentleman, except for when you brought out the beast in him.

He grabbed your hair, yanking it so your body stood flush against his. You could feel him, every inch of his marvelous abs expanding and contracting and his hips, slapping against your ass with each thrust. You arched your back into him, exposing your neck to his lips. He began to suck on your skin immediately, leaving marks that would last for days on your beautifully soft skin. This pulled another sinful moan from your glossy lips.

You turned your head, forcing his head towards your face with your free hand while the other grasped the one on your hip. You kissed him hard, lips and teeth and tongues crashing together. You could taste the scotch on his breath and he caught a whiff of your strawberry lip gloss. You smiled into his mouth, taking his bottom lip between your teeth and biting down on his skin. They’d see the bruise in the morning, although come afternoon, the serum would’ve taken care of it. You hoped somebody would see.

“Goddamnit,” he cursed after tasting blood, hand around your hair loosening before sliding down the length of your body in search of your clit, “gonna make you cum so hard you can only say my name.”

He wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand and slapped your ass with it before resting it on your hip so he could get a better grip.

You whimpered when his fingers made contact, another moan drawn from you when he began to rub the sensitive bud forcefully. You couldn’t hold on much longer.

“Want you to say it,” he ordered, “say my name. Say it right now.”

“Steve,” you cried out so loud you were sure whoever had the room next to his could hear, “oh, fuck Steve!”

“Don’t stop,” he rubbed faster, “keep saying it. Gonna fuck my name from your brain, fuck it right out.”

“Steve,” you squeaked, “Steve, Steve, Steve.”

You grabbed the wrist of the hand on your clit and dug your nails into his skin, whining his name over and over until you couldn’t stand the tightening of your stomach any longer.

“Don’t stop saying it,” he commanded, “I didn’t give you permission to stop.”

You did as told while he continued to ram his cock deep into you, grunts escaping from his lips while he pounded into you at an unforgiving pace. Your throat would be sore in the morning, but you didn’t stop, chanting his name over and over like a prayer.

“You gonna cum all over my dick, huh?” He throbbed inside of you, panting harshly against your lips.

“Want you to cum inside me, Steve,” you dug your nails into him, “give me your fucking cum right now.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, “I’m gonna give you my fucking cum.”

You loved drawing profanities from a man who didn’t curse. It was like a game to you, seeing how many curses you could squeeze out of America’s golden boy before he’d collapse on top of you. You loved how dirty he could be behind closed doors, loved the contrast between the sweet and gentle Steve that held your hand in public and this monster of a man who bought you expensive things and fucked you senseless with his thick cock afterward. He loved it too, didn’t even know it until you pissed him off for real one time and it just happened out of the blue, but after that, he hadn’t looked back. It came so naturally, he was afraid of himself sometimes, but then he’d see that blissful sheen, that fucked out look on your face and the smile you wore just for him and he was instantly reminded of why he did it.

Because it felt good.

You already knew you’d be bruised when you’d wake up next to him in the morning from the way his fingers grasped you tightly, but you loved it, knowing you carried his markings under your clothing and you were sure he loved it too.

He didn’t stop, not even when you’re moaning his name so loud it’s almost deafening. He didn’t stop when your pussy clenched painfully around his dick, didn’t stop when you began to tremble and shake so hard he thought you were having a fucking fit. You started moving away from him in an attempt to ease the overbearing sensation of his fingers still forcefully rubbing on your clit, but he simply yanked you back against him, sweat-covered biceps flexing while his thrusts became so sloppy he could hardly stay upright. You gripped the headboard so tight you thought it would splinter.

His cum shot up into you in hot spurts, coating your walls in it while he rode out his orgasm. His hand finally left your pussy, allowing you to breathe in what felt like ages.

“Jesus,” the drawl of his voice sounded like music to your ears, “you’re gonna be the death of me.”

Smiling sweetly at the man beside you, you pressed your lips softly to his burning cheek. Then, you rested your head on his shoulder, allowing his arm to engulf you and pull you flush to his heaving body. You sure managed to cause Captain America to work up a sweat.

He inspected the purple spots on your neck and looked down, eyes scanning the dark red marks on your hips that were there to stay for at least a few days. He’d learned to accept them, to love them, but he hated the idea of hurting you at first. You had to remind him each time that you were completely okay with it, that it didn’t actually hurt in a bad way.

“I’m sorry about the diamonds,” he offered, looking at the discarded Cartier on the floor, “and the dress.”

“Should be,” you mumbled, eyes closing at the sound of his heartbeat in your ear, “those weren’t cheap.”

It wasn’t even your money that just went to waste. Hell, they could probably fix it up at the store, but that wasn’t a part of the game. It wasn’t good enough.

“I’ll buy you new ones,” he kissed your forehead, “I told you I would.”

The next day, he did indeed buy you a new diamond necklace. And a diamond bracelet. And earrings.

Now, all you needed was a ring to match.

#steve rogers imagine #steve rogers smut #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers #steve rogers fic #captain america imagine #captain america #captain america smut #captain america fic #captain america x reader #marvel imagine #marvel smut #marvel x reader #marvel fic

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i-write-about-anything · 4 years

Text

Two Betas and the Beneficial Friendships

Prompt: The reader is in not only one screwing one beta but two. Neither of the boys know, but a recent threat exposes her, what will the boys do? (WOW)

Pairings: Theo Raeken x Reader, Isaac Lahey x Reader

Third Person POV

(Y/N) had always been part of the pack, despite her lack in being supernatural. Scott had told her about his werewolf abilities the same day he told Stiles. Isaac had made his way into the pack only a year later after discovering Scott’s secret. She had kept the secret for six months, she hadn’t thought it was going to last long, hell she didn’t even know she was attracted to the pair. It started with Isaac; she had been on a steak out with him that lasted way too long. She found him attractive, of course she did, you’d had to be blind not to find Isaac Lahey attractive. However, she never found the appeal of dating, getting your heartbroken wasn’t something she wanted to experience. So that night, while they were arguing their lips crashed, she hadn’t thought of fucking Isaac, she hadn’t even thought of kissing him, but one thing led to another and a week later, that thing happened again, they agreed not to tell anyone. It became a weekly thing, until Theo showed up. She initiated the first kiss with Theo, and Theo being the cocky son of a Bitch he is didn’t seem surprised. She meant to stop things with Isaac, but she couldn’t phantom the thought of losing him. So, she kept Theo a secret too. Theo and Isaac hated each other, so it worked out for her, neither of them had brought up their beneficial friendship with her and she was thankful for that. It wasn’t until she saw Isaac flirting with a girl that she truly felt the jealousy. She yelled at him that night, they had agreed to meet up two days before for their weekly fuck but there was no fuck that night. Instead she threw shit at him while he stood in complete shook. They had never agreed they couldn’t be with other people, regardless, she was no one to talk, she was fucking Theo behind his back. They shook it off, agreeing not to sleep with other people and when she went to end things with Theo, well, it didn’t go as planned. So, she continued to keep Theo a secret, even though she had promised Isaac she wouldn’t sleep with anyone. Now there she is, six months into her friends with benefits with both betas, she wouldn’t admit it but she had grown feelings for the both of them. She had wanted to end things with both of them, not wanting her feelings for them to continue to grow but that was easier said than done.

She sighed for the third time as she stared into her hands, the recent threat in beacon hills getting too exhausting for her to handle. It had been two weeks, and in the two weeks she had kept her distance from both betas, her fear of being caught increasing. She took a job at a local coffee shop, to distract herself from adulthood and also to have an excuse to not see Isaac and Theo. She wanted to distant herself from them, not wanting the feelings to continuously grow. It had been a slow day causing her to overthink about the two betas, she had been the only one working the night shift and she was due to close in only thirty minutes. Her phone rang, Isaac’s face flashing on the screen before she sighed and looked at the empty café. She answered his call bringing her phone to her ear. “Isaac.” She sighed out. Isaac was relieved to hear her voice, he wouldn’t admit it either but his feelings for her had also grown, how couldn’t they?

“Hey sweetheart.” His pet name for her sinking into her stomach causing butterflies, she loved being talked to like that, especially by him. “I haven’t seen you in a while, what time do you get off, I can go pick you up and we can come back to my place.” His happy voice rang through the phone causing (y/n) to shut her eyes.

“I can't Isaac, I have morning shift tomorrow and all I want to do is go home and sleep.” It wasn't all a lie, she did have morning shift however she wanted nothing more than to be with him, in his arms.

“We don’t have to do anything, I can run you a bath, help you relax?” He’d try anything and everything just to see her, two weeks without her had been hell.

“I’m sorry Isaac, not today.” She heard him sigh and her heart broke.

“Just, call me when you’re up for it?” He waited for her response and when she said nothing, he hung up. She mentally cursed herself for denying him, she knew she needed to release some stress but she couldn't not while her feelings were involved. Closing the cafe she found herself throwing a fit and cursing at the door. The key always got stuck when she locked it.

“Need some help princess?” She stopped in her tracks, she knew his voice, she knew his scent. She found herself closing her eyes before releasing her grip on the key loosening as she turned to see him. “Damn is it good to see you.” Theo spoke as his eyes wondered around her body.

“Not today Theo.” She sighed as she focused her attention to the key again. She tried another four times before cursing at the key and kicking the door. Theo chuckled lightly pushing her out the way before taking the key off the door. “Thank you.” She gave him a small smile before taking the keys from his hands.

“Why have you been ignoring me? It’s been what, two weeks?” Theo bit his lip. He found himself falling for her, even with his darkened heart, he allowed himself to feel something for her, only her.

“You’re counting?” She rolled her eyes and began walking home, Theo following her.

“Is it so hard to believe?” He grabbed her wrist spinning her around to face him, that was one thing Isaac and Theo didn’t share. Theo was always handsy, he knew what he was doing and he knew how to do it. Isaac was a little bit more on the shy side. “I've missed you.” Theo whispered causing her to sigh and shake her head.

“Please Theo, not today.” She pulled her hand from his grasp before continuing her walk towards her home.

“At least let me walk you home, it’s not safe out there, you know that.” And as if it was in queue, she was thrown onto the street, her entire right-side scrapping on the pavement as Theo registered what had just happened. She heard a loud growl coming towards her as she struggled to get up, her side hurting as tears started to drip from her eyes, something was definitely broken. Theo sprang into action, tossing the unknown werewolf away from (y/n). “Are you okay?” Theo breathed out; he swore he felt his heart at the pit of his stomach. He looked around, the werewolf nowhere to be seen. She cried out in pain when she tried to sit up. “Hey, hey, stay down, I'll call the paramedics.” Theo’s hands shook as he took the phone out of his pocket. He hadn’t ever been this terrified in his life. He quickly gave 9-1-1, his heart beating faster by the minute. “Where’s it hurt?” Theo spoke as he hung up the phone, trying to get his mind to think clearly as he waited for the ambulance.

“My whole right side, I think I broke a rib.” She hissed out; sure, she could tolerate pain but this hurt like hell. “Fuck.” She hissed out as tears continued to drip from her eyes.

“Let me help you.” Theo gulped his hand reaching for hers but she quickly shook her head. She knew him taking her pain would be too much for her to handle. She knew Theo, he wouldn’t have done it if he didn't care about her, and she refused to let him in, especially like that. “(Y/N).” He whispered and before she could reply, the sound of sirens cut them both off. Before they knew it they were in Beacon Hills Hospital, Scott and the rest of the pack already there as Theo had texted Scott when they were in the ambulance. They wheeled her away, leaving Theo to stare after her as the pack asked him questions.

“Theo!” Scott shook him out of his own mind. Theo turned to look at the worried pack, Isaac biting his nails as he waited for him to say something. “What the hell happen?” Scott asked and Theo shook his head trying to recollect the details of what had just happened.

“A werewolf, it came out of nowhere, just threw her across the street and when I tried to fight him, he just left.” Theo looked at Scott, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

“It’s after her.” Lydia spoke and they all looked at her. “Why else wouldn’t he have stayed and fought?” She questioned Theo, his mind already thinking of what would have happened if he hadn’t shown up to talk to her.

“It’s a good thing you were with her.” Stiles spoke patting Theo’s back.

“Why were you with her anyways?” Isaac questioned, his curiosity getting the best of him. The pack looked at Isaac.

“I don’t think that’s any of your concern.” Theo spoke shaking his head as he sat down on a chair. “How are we going to handle this?” He looked at Scott before they all sat down.

____________

It had been three hours when they finally confirmed her thoughts, not only one broken rib but three. The skin on her right leg and arm completely broken from the pavement, they had wrapped them, in efforts to help the healing, they had given her something for the pain so she was a little loopy. A knock on the door startled her as she looked up from her arm. The pack filling the room as multiple sighs of relief were heard. “I’m so glad you’re alright.” Isaac spoke moving through the pack to go to her side. She couldn’t help but smile up at him when he took her hand in his, his lips placing a kiss on her scratched-up forehead. Theo looked at them, his eyebrows scrunching up in confusion.

“The hell is going on there?” Stiles asked Scott who shrugged.

“You’re here.” She whispered placing her hand on his cheek, she was way out of it. She wouldn’t have done this, not in front of the pack, in front of Theo.

“Of course, I am sweetheart, where else would I be?” He gave her a small smile causing Theo to clear his throat.

“Wait, what the fuck is happening right now?” Theo’s loud voice caused her head to snap towards him, her smile widening.

“Theo.” She motioned for him to move closer and when he did Isaac looked at him. “Thank you for saving me.” She grabbed Theo’s hand, his confusion easing as the small act of affection cleared his mind. Isaac looking down at their hands as he looked at the pack, their eyes analyzing what the hell was going on.

“You know I'd do anything for you princess.” Theo whispered but his efforts to keep the pet name hushed was a fail, they all heard it, even Stiles and Lydia who weren't werewolves.

“Princess?” Isaac huffed and Theo looked at him, both of their hands still resting in one of hers. “Look, why don't you and the rest of the pack go wait outside, yeah? I’ll keep her company.” Theo looked down at (y/n) her smile not fading as the medication continued to flow in her blood stream.

“Who the hell are you to tell me what to do? Look I was the one there, I was the one who helped her, I'm not going anywhere. So, how about you, go and wait outside.” Theo’s voice was always loud.

“Guys, calm down.” Scott whispered as he looked at Stiles who shrugged. No one knew what the hell was going on.

“What were you doing with her tonight Theo?” Isaac spoke and Theo rolled his eyes.

“Look, not like it’s your business or anything but I was walking her home, alright.” Theo gave in, anything to shut him up already, you didn’t need this, you needed rest.

“And why would you do that? You’re not her boyfriend.” Isaac spat out.

“Last time I checked; you weren’t either.” Theo snapped back. They both looked at each other, their eyes darkening before (y/n) giggled. They looked down at her confused on why she was laughing.

“This is not how I expected things to go.” She shrugged.

“What are you talking about?” Theo spoke.

“I may have been seeing the both of you for six months.” She smiled before she giggled and closed her eyes. They both looked at her for a second, their mouths opening in shock before they looked at each other.

“Oh shit.” Stiles’ voice broke the silence in the room, they all looked at him before (y/n) laughed at his language.

_____

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charincharge · 4 years

Text

Cruel Summer, Part 17

cruel summer masterlist

AN: 17 is my lucky number, but it is not Rowan’s. Sorry this thing is still hurting some of you. I think it’s still going to end up about 25 chapters, so... we’re moving forward. I swear! Okay, byeee.

Thump.

Rowan wakes up, unsettled by a loud noise coming from the living room.

“Shhh…” A loud whisper hushes. “My roommate is sleeping,” Manon slurs, followed by excessive giggling.

He looks at the clock. Just past 3AM. Rowan frowns. This is not what the needs right now.

Another thump followed by an “Ow!” and more giggles wakes him up entirely.

Another too loud shush as he hears two bodies stumble towards Manon’s bedroom, laughter trailing after them the whole way.

Manon’s door slams shut, and Rowan tries to close his eyes and fall back asleep. But soon soft moaning begins. Rowan rubs his hand over his face and cringes. He is so not in the mood for this. He just wants to sleep and temporarily forget about all his troubles. Is that too much to ask for?

He usually sleeps through Manon’s exploits. But not tonight. The moans are interlaced with profanities and the sound of thumping against the wall. The moans reach a crescendo, and Rowan has never been so insanely grateful for people to orgasm and go to sleep. But, minutes later, the moaning starts again.

Rowan puts his pillow over his head, trying to block out the noise, but he’s too attuned to it. He hears every sigh and whisper and expletive, and his entire body is on alert, far too anxious to fall asleep. He stays awake until the wee hours of the morning when Manon and her paramour finally settle down.

Rowan’s alarm goes off far too soon, much to his dismay. His head throbs with the lack of sleep, and his hand itches beneath his bandage. He knows he’s in for a rough day – and not just because of the event that’s going to happen tonight that he definitely doesn’t want to think about yet.

As he gets ready, he’s shocked to hear movement out in the kitchen. He’s so tired, he can’t imagine anyone else being voluntarily awake right now. He peeks out of his bedroom to see Manon, in her robe, making coffee. Her hair is piled on top of her head, and she’s humming lightly. She smiles like the cat who ate the canary, and Rowan shudders. Smiles look terrifying on her.

“You look like crap again,” Manon says, sipping from her large red mug, eyebrows raised. “Want to tell me what happened last night?” She points to his injured hand.

“Not really,” Rowan says, reaching for the coffee pot himself, but Manon slaps his hand away.

“I’m making that for my guest,” she hisses, narrowing her golden eyes at him.

Rowan ignores her and pours himself a mug. “You and your guest kept me up all night, so I’m going to need some caffeine to make it through today.”

Rowan is dreading today. He really wishes he’d at least been able to sleep.

“Sorry,” Manon apologizes, though she sounds anything but.

“Hey, babe,” a warm voice calls sleepily. “I thought I heard noise out here.”

The woman who exits Manon’s room is absolutely stunning – she wears one of Manon’s tank tops and a pair of underwear, showing off the expanse of her dark skin, swirling with intricate art. Long dark braids fade to pink and fall down her back, making her look just as effortlessly cool as Manon. Her rich brown eyes flick to Rowan in surprise and she waves timidly.

Manon simply pulls the woman into her side and kisses her cheek. “Nimi, this is Rowan, my roommate. Rowan, this is Nehemia. We met on the yacht last night. You know, after you weirdly bailed.”

Manon is clearly asking Rowan to explain himself, but he’s in far too grumpy to attempt that.

Nehemia holds out her hand, and Rowan shakes it. “You can call me Nimi,” she clarifies, her accent rounding out the sharp vowels of her name. “Like Mimi, but with an N.” She smiles at Rowan, and he’s again awestruck by how beautiful she is. He’s constantly impressed by the caliber of girls Manon brings home, but Nehemia is a step above and beyond. Despite being exhausted, Rowan returns her smile in earnest. He guesses Manon deserves a night of fun, too, despite his own drama.

“I’m going to be late for work,” Rowan grumbles, looking at the time.

“This is my surprised face,” Manon deadpans, making Nehemia giggle that same giggle that Rowan heard over and over last night.

Rowan wishes them goodbye, and as he closes the door he hears Manon laugh. “Thank gods. I want to hear you scream for me.”

Rowan flees the premises faster, not wanting to even imagine the volume they’re about to reach. Also, he has to desire to be around happily coupled people right now.

He’s never been so glad to go to work. At least at the park, he’ll be distracted all day and around other miserable people.

Except for some reason, everyone at the park is having their best day ever. Even Lorcan, who usually skulks around the ground with a permanent scowl is buoyant and grinning as he hands out tickets with Rowan at the front booth.

He finds out why during his lunch break when Lorcan tentatively approaches Elide and asks if the steak house is okay for dinner tonight, to which Elide readily nods, leaving the pair nervously smiling and blushing at each other.

Gods, does everyone have a date tonight, Rowan wonders to himself. What was in those cocktails last night? Some sort of aphrodisiac?

Rowan pulls out his phone, notably devoid of text notifications, and wonders if he should reach out to Aelin. He wants her to be thinking about him during her date. He knows that’s selfish and stupid and totally the opposite of what he asked for, but he can’t help it. He doesn’t trust Sam at all, and something plagues Rowan’s stomach; that Sam will be in Aelin’s life long after he leaves it. The thought makes him nauseous.

He sits, picking at his lunch, but unable to really eat. Elide takes the seat next to him and gives him a small smile.

“How’s the hand doing?” she asks, pointing to the bandage still wrapped around Rowan’s palm. He shrugs. “You were missed last night,” Elide says, her tone insinuating much more than her plain words.

Rowan chuckles softly and looks at Lorcan, who is staring at the back of Elide’s head. “Yeah, what the hell happened after I left? I got woken up by…uh…company.”

Elide laughs back. “Oh man, isn’t Nimi so cool? She’s a friend of Dorian’s.” Her eyes glaze over, as if she’s playing the night back across her memory. “Basically, we decided to get sloshed and be each other’s wingmen.”

“It seems like you were all successful,” Rowan says, stabbing a piece of his cold chicken. Elide smiles and looks over her shoulder at Lorcan, who immediately looks down at being caught staring. “So, how’d that happen?” Rowan asks, curious about his two managers. “When I left Lorcan was not at the party…”

“Manon told me to stop being a coward – except, she used a much crasser word that I don’t like saying out loud.” Elide scrunches her nose. “So, I showed up drunk on Lorcan’s doorstep.”

Rowan’s jaw drops. “You did what?”

“Shut up. I know.” Elide covers her face. “I’ve never done anything like that in my entire life.”

“So, what happened?” Rowan asks, leaning forward. This gossip is the best kind of distraction for his aching heart.

Elide looks through her fingers, embarrassed. “He put me to bed in his bed and slept on the couch.” She snorts. “And then this morning I got really mad at him for not making a move, and he said that he would never take advantage of a drunk woman.” She smiles softly. “And that he insisted on taking me out first.” Elide takes a large sip of her drink and frowns. “Gods, I’m sorry. You didn’t need all those details. I haven’t even told Aelin yet.”

Rowan clears his throat, unsure if he should ask what he’s going to, but he can’t stop himself. “And did Aelin meet anyone new?”

Elide furrows her brows and frowns. “No. I assumed she went to go meet you?” Elide says. “She left the party with her parents shortly after you did.”

“Oh.” Rowan isn’t sure what to make of that detail. He stabs another bite of chicken.

Elide starts to say something and then pauses, and then starts again. And then pauses. Rowan rolls his eyes in frustration. “Just spit it out.”

“You should just tell her,” Elide says. Rowan raises an eyebrow at the petite brunette. “That it’s not casual for you.” Rowan swallows thickly but shakes his head and scoffs. Elide continues. “I’m just saying it as a person who wishes someone had told me to stop being a…” she lowers her voice to the softest whisper, “pussy.” Rowan cracks a small smile. “…sooner.

“I’ll take that into consideration.”

Rowan nods as Elide heads off, left with his head spinning around.

He takes his phone back out and stares at it. He hates the way he left things with Aelin last night. But what is he supposed to text her? Best wishes on your date tonight? No. He can’t say anything. He has to just suffer through this hellish day and hope she wants to talk to him after. The longer he goes without hearing from her, the more he realizes that he doesn’t think he’ll recover if she doesn’t want to see him again. He’s an addict, in dire need of his next hit. He only hopes he didn’t fuck everything up. He’ll keep all his thoughts to himself for the rest of the summer, as long as it means he gets to continue seeing her.

Rowan’s mood worsens in the afternoon. With every minute it gets closer to 8pm, he pictures Aelin getting ready in a fancy dress and doing her hair and applying makeup. For someone else. He thinks of Sam’s disgusting comments from the boat and aggressively rips a ticket in two. His frown scares a little boy making his way onto the carousel, as he skitters quickly past an incredibly grumpy Rowan.

He wonders where Sam is taking her. Probably another fancy restaurant. Dimly lit and romantic. He can’t stand the thought.

By the time the day ends, everyone has learned to avoid Rowan. Even Fenrys, whose smile can always cheer him up, gives Rowan a wide berth in the employee breakroom after he practically growls at him. Fenrys had no idea what he was asking when he asked what Rowan was up to tonight, but he knows he’ll never unleash that beast again. Rowan has no idea how he’s going to distract himself tonight. He’s all out of whiskey.

On his way home, Rowan calls his mom. It’s been a while since he’s done more than text her, and he’s relieved when she answers the phone, despite the late hour.

She can tell Rowan is in a foul mood nearly immediately.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” she asks, and Rowan groans.

“I just got no sleep last night. I’m sorry,” he apologizes, wishing he could be more cheerful for his mom, who he loves so much. She seems unfazed by his crabbiness, though.

“I was going to keep it a surprise, but there’s a present in the mail for you,” Dora says.

“What?” Why?” he asks, shocked.

“Because I saw it, and I knew you needed it. Don’t argue with me.” Her tone is resolute. “Just say thank you.”

“Thank you, ma,” he says, his mood lifting slightly.

“You’re welcome, Ro,” she says with a yawn. “Get some sleep tonight.”

She kisses loudly into the receiver, and Rowan can’t help but smile. Maybe he can get through tonight after all.

When Rowan arrives home, he cracks opens his front door, unsure if Manon and Nimi are still going to be at it, but luckily Manon is alone, lounging on the couch, watching TV. He nods hello.

Manon gestures to his room. “Something came for you while you were at work. I put it in your room.”

Rowan finally smiles, excited to see what his mom sent him. But when he opens his bedroom door, he’s shocked to see not a package on his bed, but Aelin, curled up with her arms wrapped around herself, cheeks stained black with remnants of watery mascara, and turquoise eyes staring vacantly into the distance.

“Aelin?” Rowan rushes to her side, perching himself on the edge of the bed. “What are you doing here?” He pauses, but she still doesn’t answer. “Are you okay?” he asks, though the answer is incredibly obvious.

Tears spill from her eyes onto his pillow as she shakes her head and sniffles loudly. Rowan looks her over. She looks so small, knees tucked into her chest. He takes in her dress, now wrinkled and crumpled from laying on her side. He tentatively touches her bare shoulder, and she startles beneath his touch, jolting slightly, and Rowan narrows his eyes.

“Did…” He swallows nervously. “Did he… hurt you?”

Aelin shakes her head again, and Rowan releases a shaky breath. Thank gods for small favors.

“Aelin,” he pleads as he watches her helpelessly. “You have to tell me what happened. You’re scaring me.”

“I d-didn’t g-go,” she mumbles, so quietly that Rowan isn’t quite sure he heard her right.

She pushes herself upright, tears still dripping down her cheeks. “I g-got in-to a hug-ge f-fight with m-my mom,” she stutters between ragged breaths, clearly trying to keep her tears at bay.

Rowan wipes his thumb across her wet cheek, pushing the tears away, but they come in steady streams.

“Y-you were r-right,” she whispers through sniffs. She closes her eyes and takes a deep, centering breath. When she opens them again, blue gold eyes stare into his, and he’s nearly knocked out by the emotion he sees swirling in them. “No one can make me do anything I don’t want to. I’m done pretending.” She breathes heavily. ��Sam s-sucks,” she says, her voice cracking slightly.

Rowan smiles softly at her. “I could have told you that,” he says, and she chuckles humorlessly.

“My mom did not feel the same way…” she trails off, and the flash of hurt in her eyes tells Rowan that there’s a lot more to her fight than she’s willing to admit to him. “It was the worst fight we’ve ever had.” She breathes deeply. “I can’t go back there tonight.”

“You can stay here as long as you want,” Rowan says, and he means it. It’s not entirely a selfless offer.

Rowan leans forward tentatively and kisses Aelin’s forehead. She exhales a shaky breath beneath his touch, and he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her onto his lap. Her tears return in full force as she cradles herself against him. Dark splotches mar his shirt with her running makeup. She leans back and swipes at her cheeks.

“Oh g-god, I’m getting your sh-shirt all d-dirty,” she cries, the small detail making her even more upset. “I’m s-sorry. A crying g-girl s-so isn’t wh-what you s-signed up-p for.”

“I don’t care,” Rowan says emphatically, drawing her closer, and Aelin settles against his chest again. He runs his fingers through her golden hair, starting at her scalp and running all the way down the middle of her back, repeating the movement over and over until it becomes meditative. She sniffles quietly against him, her tears running dry as she calms down.

When her breaths finally even out, Rowan kisses the top of her head and tries to lift her off his lap, but she clings to him harder.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers, and she nods, unclasping her fingers and letting him go. He goes to his dresser and grabs a worn in band tee and some boxers and tosses them onto the bed. He tugs his work clothes off and grabs some sweatpants from his bottom drawer. As he stands, two delicate hands wrap around his bare torso and soft lips press between his shoulder blades.

Rowan twines his fingers with hers as he turns around to look at her. She looks exhausted. The hours of crying have taken their toll on her. Her shoulders slump forward, and her sparkling eyes lack their usual luster. But Rowan thinks she’s never looked more beautiful.

She turns around in his arms and lifts her hair. He takes the hint and unzips her dress. She steps out of it and he holds up the band tee for her. She snakes her head through, and Rowan can’t help the surge of delight he feels at seeing her in his clothes. Aelin steps forward and wraps her arms around his neck, holding him close. He returns the hug so tightly he can feel their hearts beating together.

“Thank you,” she whispers, and Rowan hugs her tighter in response. He’d hold her forever if she let him. “Can I wash my face?” she asks, and Rowan nods and points her in the direction of the bathroom. Rowan finishes dressing as she cleans her face, and gets comfortable on his bed. When Aelin comes back out, she frowns at him unhappily.

“What?” he asks, nervous that he’s done something to upset her.

“You put a shirt on,” she complains, and Rowan can’t help but smile widely at that.

“So thirsty,” he says with a laugh, and Aelin finally smiles for the first time all evening.

“I’m actually hungry,” she says, crawling onto the bed next to him. He’s about to call her out for her blatant innuendo when she continues. “With tonight’s upset… I didn’t get to eat dinner.”

Rowan lifts his arm, and Aelin snuggles underneath it. “What are you in the mood for?” he asks. He holds out his phone for her to scroll through the limited delivery options, and Rowan smiles again at the domestic scene.

Aelin decides on Chinese food, and as they wait for it to arrive, they turn on the TV to one of Rowan’s favorite cooking competition shows.

Cuddled together on his bed, Rowan’s heart feels full. He resumes running his fingers through her hair, and Aelin sighs happily. He thinks about Elide’s advice, wondering if he should just tell Aelin what he’s feeling when she breaks the silence herself.

“You’re a really great friend, Rowan,” she says, and Rowan nods, squashing his feelings down again. “Thank you.”

“Any time,” he croaks out, continuing his movements through her hair. She kisses his bandaged hand and holds it in hers. As they sit together, Rowan can’t help but think this doesn’t feel like friendship. In fact, he thinks it feels a lot like love.

~*~*~*~*~

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#aelin x rowan #rowaelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius #elorcan #cruel summer au #amusement park au #charincharge writes #tog fanfic #throne of glass

238 notes · View notes

wannawritefast · 3 years

Text

Whiplash: Chapter 1- Playing Defense

A/N: Hey, y’all. I know the prologue didn’t get a whole lot of attention but I’ve written a substantial amount for this and I am VERY proud of how much I’ve written and what I’ve written. Also, huge shoutout to @andtheswordwentsnickersnack for beta reading this beast of a fic that I’ve been working on for WAYYYY too long LMAO...

Pairing: BoRhap!Brian May x fem!Reader

Prologue

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, awful men, sexism

You loved your family. Really, you did.

But there were times, and many times they were, that you would have been more comfortable ripping your own hair out strand-by-strand than having to sit through another session of verbal abuse.

You weren’t entirely certain what you had done, if anything, to deserve such discrimination from your grandfather, father, and brother amongst a few cousins and uncles. It was like 3 generations of men in your family had decided to use you as a verbal punching bag.

You still vividly remembered the time you had told them that you didn’t particularly appreciate how they talked to you. They laughed right in your face and told you to grow a thicker skin. That Y/l/n’s were a tougher breed than most and that if you couldn’t handle it then maybe you weren’t of their blood.

October break wasn’t any different. Your family had met up for your annual dinner together aside from Christmas.

“And what about you? When are you going to settle down, Y/n?” your grandfather quipped after shoveling a spoonful of mashed potatoes. “I want some great-grandbabies!”

Before you could even open your mouth in response your brother, James, chimed in. “I wouldn’t count on anyone banging her anytime soon.”

“Well,” you chuckled, “would you look at who’s talking?” James grumbled to himself and threw a pea at you which you successfully evaded. You turned your head to address your grandfather. “And I’m not your only grandchild. You have a grandson too, you know.”

You nodded toward your brother and your grandfather hardly even blinked at the last sentence. He either didn’t hear you or didn’t care. Proof that he used any and every opportunity to undermine you. Your grandfather scoffed and mumbled to himself gruffly.

You practically heard your father’s eye roll. “Your career is only so fulfilling.”

“Dad, I’m an astrophysicist and a damn good one, I’d like to think. If my career wasn’t fulfilling enough, I’d be seriously questioning all of the time and money I spent at university writing my thesis and graduating top 5 in my year.” You took a bite out of your roll. Why did you have to defend yourself every time you came home? It was exhausting!

“I’m just saying that you aren’t fully happy until you’ve settled down.”You rolled your eyes at your father. You didn’t have the time to focus on your love life. You barely had time to do your studies as it was. Furthermore, no man you had met seemed to like you after finding out you were an astrophysicist. Nobody seemed to click with you well.

“Why do I need more than my career to be fulfilled in life?” You asked seriously.The whole table laughed at your question. Even the kiddie table laughed but it was just hive mind reflex. You certainly did want to get married and have a family someday but you were making a point to your father. Who was he to dictate what made you happy?

“Please, Y/n,” James piped up again, “that’s what lonely people say to feel better about themselves.”

Ouch. That one stung more than you should have let it. You took a drink to keep yourself from letting a tear roll.

“Who ever said that she’s single?” Your sister spoke suddenly. You coughed and sputtered on your drink. Your neck turned to Donna so swiftly that you probably could have snapped it.

“Are you implying that my eldest daughter is dating a boy,” your mother raised her brows at you conspiratorially, “and didn’t tell me? Is it that smart, goofy boy you fancied at university for the longest time?” She couldn’t seem to keep a grin from spreading across her face.You flushed red at her question. Nobody needed to know that. Except now they did because you were, apparently, no longer single. Everybody at the table locked their eyes on you, muttering to each other. You looked at your sister in panic.

“Go on,” her voice cracked and she cleared her throat before bringing her cup to her lips. “Tell them about your boyfriend.”

Gee thanks… She had just started digging you into a hole.“Wait just a second! Let’s rewind a moment.” James questioned incredulously. “My sister, the stick in the mud astrophysicist, has a boyfriend? Why haven’t you mentioned him before?”

“It’s not relevant who I may or-” you looked at your sister pointedly; she fiddled with her fork “-may not be dating.” The fact that James wasn’t buying it was making you quite nervous. You were more offended though than anything. “Is it really so hard to believe that I’d be dating someone?”

“Yes!”

“Believe it, James” Donna insisted, pointing her fork at him. Put down your damn shovel!

“Have you banged him?” Your brother asked in the silence.

You picked up your drink and splashed him in the face. Your mother softly scolded you for your actions but you were completely unapologetic for what James more than deserved. How you shared the same DNA with such a tool was beyond you…

“That is hardly your business,” you snipped. You turned and stared down Donna. You were going to have to tell them the truth…

“Ok, that’s quite enough,” your mother stopped everything. Oh, thank the Lord. “We’re here to talk about your sister not her boyfriend.” Thank you, mother. “She’ll just have to bring him over for Christmas!”

You stood up from your chair and it scraped along the floor. What had you done…“That’s ridiculous! What if he wants us to spend time with his family for Christmas?” Why were you even going along with this? Why were you defending your hypothetical boyfriend?

“Then you can split the time between the two!”

“What if he doesn’t want to meet you guys yet?” You suggested. This hole is getting awfully big, Y/n. “Meeting parents is a big deal!” The statement came out as more of a question than a defense. You were honestly hoping for one, just one, objection to stick. “I don’t want to scare him off.”

“Who wouldn’t want to meet us?” Your mother asked. You resisted the urge to answer the question.

“Well, what if we’re not even together anymore by that time?”

“Wow, you really can’t hold onto a man for that long, Y/n? It seems to me like you would have been making this whole thing up if you are ‘broken up’ by then.” James finished wiping his face with a napkin after his encounter with your drink. You locked eyes with him. He was onto you.

“I’m not making this up,” you lied. Apparently you hadn’t put down your shovel yet either.“Then bring him home for Christmas,” James challenged. “Otherwise we’ll know it's a lie.”

Your family was on the edge of their seats and, for the time being, the logistics of the challenge didn’t matter. You were fed up with your brother constantly tearing you down. You were tired of your father not being pleased with anything you did. And you were exhausted by your grandfather’s insistence that you were nothing more than a source for great-grandkids. You got no respect at work and you certainly didn’t get any damn respect at home.

And so you did it. You extended your arm toward your stupid brother’s stupid hand and grasped it firmly with a shake.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, brother dearest.”

[{...}]

Eventually the extended family left and you went to your sister’s bedroom since you were sharing the room and the bed for break.

“Why in the bloody hell would you do something like that?!” You lowered your voice so that your family, more specifically James, wouldn’t hear you. Your sister sat on the bed cross-legged, fiddling with the ends of her hair.

“I’m sorry!” Donna yelled. You shushed her as you brushed your hair. “I couldn’t just watch. James crossed a line with that comment. I just wanted to wipe that stupid smile off of his dumb face.”

“Watch your language, why don’t you?” You teased. She rolled her eyes at you. “But I was fine, honestly. I’m used to it.”

“You shouldn’t be!” You hissed at Donna to be quiet again. “It was nice for them to shut up for a few moments and see you as a normal human being.”

Your heart was warm but you were in a state of complete panic. “That’s such a sweet sentiment in such a terrible circumstance!” You dug your fingers into your temples and threw yourself onto the bed. “What am I supposed to do? I can’t just go up to a guy and say ‘I need you to be my fake boyfriend because my sister dug me into a bloody hole’! You know I can barely get guys to talk to me on a casual basis!” Your voice dropped in volume, no louder than a whisper. “What makes you think that I can get one to play my boyfriend?” You let out a frustrated sigh.

“I honestly did not foresee the consequences of my actions and I am very sorry.”

“Do you think?” You growled to yourself. “Bloody hell… what am I going to do?”

Your sister scratched the back of her neck. “I mean, you have time… It is only October…”

“But I’m going to have to find someone eventually… if I find one.” You gnawed on a fingernail.

“You’ll be fine!” Donna breathed. She curled herself into the blankets next to you. You felt sick to your stomach.

“Yeah…,” you inhaled deeply, “and I’ve got time…”

#borhap fanfic #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody fanfic #bohemian rhapsody fandom #brian may x reader #gwilym!brian #gwilym!brian x reader #gwilym lee!brian may #gwylim lee!brian may x reader #slow burn #fem!reader #reader insert #friends to lovers #friends to lovers AU #fake dating!au #borhap #fluff #fanfiction #bohemian rhapsody fanfiction

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anathewierdo · 4 years

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Call of the Ocean Chapter 9: The Worst Kind of Introductions

Pairing: CEO!Mechanic!Dean Winchester x Mermaid!Reader

Word count: 7504

Chapter summary: With each passing day, the Princess’ yearning for the surface grows along with her dread towards the tournaments where she’ll be made the prize. The suitors are officially presented to the people of Sindarta.

Series summary: CEO of Winchester Auto Dean Winchester has had enough of the office life. With his father keeping him from what he wants to do, which is work on the plant floor, Dean decides to leave for a quiet life. In Matagorda, Texas, he finds something he never thought he would, a chance encounter with a mythical creature.

Call of the Ocean Masterlist

A/N: This series is a collaboration with @flamencodiva . Text dividers were made by the awesome @talesmaniac89

Next chapter will be posted on Wednesday september 17th! :D

Y/N groaned as the light filtered through the window. Her head felt as though she was in a very strong rip current. Giving a small groan she pushed up off of Ellen’s couch. She looked around to find Thasman had curled up on Ellen’s other couch and was hugging one of her pillows and snoring. Letting out a small giggle, she looked around for another pillow, throwing it straight towards his head.

Thasman growled in response, dashing a hand through his hair and face as if trying to scare something away. “Leave me alone.”

Y/N shook her head as she stood up. Walking to the window she took in a deep breath. Even with her head feeling like something was beating a current into it, she couldn’t help but admire the sun rising and shimmering on the ocean water. She was lost in her thoughts when she heard noises coming from the kitchen.

Ellen walked in carrying a sort of big plate, with two more plates on it that contained red stripes of what Y/N assumed had to be more meat. Her head pounded again, and she groaned, causing the woman to chuckle. “Thought you wouldn’t wake up ‘til tomorrow for a moment!” joked Ellen. “Lay down, darlin’. I got some bacon for you and Thas. It’ll help a bit.”

“Thank you, Ellen.” Y/N smiled as Ellen set the big plate down, helping her lay down and making sure she was as comfortable as she could be on her couch.

“I gotta say,” Ellen took one of the plates with the red stripes and placed it on Y/N’s lap. “You guys are the worst drinkers I have ever seen.”

From the other side of the room, Thasman let out another groan-like whine. “Quiet…”

“You brought this on yourself, boy.” Ellen mused. “Sit up, you need to eat something.”

“I don’t want to.” He whined as he placed his head under the pillow.

Ellen shook her head and chuckled, standing up and taking the pillow out of his arms. “Well, tough.”

“You weren’t so mean yesterday. What did I do to you?” Thasman pouted at Ellen.

“I’ll give you more food if you sit up, Thasman.”

“Fine.”

“What did you say this was called?” Y/N asked around a mouthful of a greasy red stripe. “It’s not bad, but it’s not as delicious as the meat from yesterday.”

Ellen smiled fondly, looking at both of them before replying. “It’s called bacon. It’s greasy, it’s bad for the heart if you eat too much of it, it comes from the butt of a pig and it kind of helps with hangovers.”

Their sounds of disgust were drowned by Ellen’s laughter at their reactions.

“I don’t want to eat anything that comes from anything’s butt!” Y/N complained.

“Yeah!” Thasman agreed, then took another piece of bacon and put it in his mouth. “Why would you feed some poor animal’s butt to us?”

“’m sorry!” Ellen cackled. “I couldn’t help it. Calm down, ya children, it’s not really from the butt. I was just joking. It’s from the belly and can help you with your headaches. You’re both dehydrated and you need to eat something greasy. I have some very delicious human food for you in the kitchen after you finish your bacon.”

“We shouldn’t have told her. I told you, Y/N. I told you.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at her friend’s accusatory face mixed with his eating of the bacon. “Shut up and eat, Thasman.”

By noon, Ellen had introduced them to something called ‘pancakes’ that were soaked in some weird liquid. Y/N kept glancing out of the window and looking to the dwelling next door. She looked back at Thasman who kept moaning every time he took a bite of the pancakes on his plate.

“Will you be having an affair with the pancakes after you win and have to marry me?” Y/N joked sadly.

Thasman reciprocates the sentiment, smiling softly. “Fear not, my Queen. We will visit as often as we can so we can both have an affair with pancakes.”

“And are you two sure you want to go through with the whole ceremony and marriage?” Ellen looked between them. “I know you two are best friends but--”

“It’s the best solution we have. The kingdom needs her, we all do, and it is not fair that she has to marry to take the throne. She is more than capable of doing it on her own. But if–”

“I don’t want it!” she interrupted Thasman. “I don’t want to be queen. You are my best friend Thasman and I love you the way a brother loves a sister and I don’t want to marry you. I can’t!” Y/N stood and made her way out of the door rushing outside as tears ran down her cheeks.

Thasman stood up, ready to follow behind her, but was stopped by Ellen grabbing his arm.

“I got her, sugar,” Ellen gave his cheek a gentle pat. “You just keep eating and sober up.”

Ellen gave him a small smile as she walked out after Y/N. Walking down the wooden steps the sea breeze hit Ellen’s face. This was one of the reasons she loved her house. She could always feel the breeze when she would walk out of her home. Once she reached the bottom she found traces of Y/N’s footsteps leading towards the beach. Following them she found the young princess sitting atop a large rock overlooking the water. Ellen could see Y/N was desperately trying to dry her eyes. It reminded her of when her own daughter wanted to be tough. Walking up to the rock, Ellen found a spot next to Y/N and settled there.

“Want to talk about it, sugar?” Ellen wrapped an arm around Y/N pulling her close.

“I don’t want to go back,” she whispered. “I love my father, I do, but the ocean doesn’t feel like it is home anymore.”

“Mhm,” she nodded. “And how can that be?”

“I don’t know Ellen,” Y/N sniffled. “I love my people and I would do anything to protect them. But I feel like I don’t belong there,” her voice cracked. “Since I can remember, I had this pull to be above the water. To explore beyond the waves.” She looked off into the horizon. “I was groomed to rule, groomed to be queen and pick a husband. I don’t want Thasman to sacrifice his freedom to be tied to someone like me. Someone who wants to be up here and experience what the human world has to offer and--” she shook her head, wiping her eyes but the tears still fell.

Ellen leaned closer, wrapping an arm around Y/N in an attempt to give her some comfort. “Breathe, Y/N.”

“I just know I am never going to meet him,” she whispered. “I am never going to talk to the green-eyed man who seemed so sad sitting on the shore staring out into the ocean.”

“Green-eyed man?” Ellen glanced over at her neighbor’s house. “I see.”

“Thasman and I should really head back. My father would be worried if we stayed away too long,” Y/N took in a deep breath and buried her feelings. “Thank you, Ellen, for everything. Would you like to walk us to the cave?”

Ellen shook her head. “It’s no problem, darlin’. I do hope you come visit very soon. And I’d love to walk you guys back. Where’s this cave?”

“I discovered it when I was little. I had been sneaking around collecting human things that looked abandoned.” She looked down at what she was wearing and blushed. “I need to learn how things work here. There is so much to learn though and I one day just want to stay here. Find another beach area so that I am not far away from the water but I want to be up here. Everything is mysterious and wonderful and full of life.” Y/N climbed down from the rock and helped Ellen do the same.

“Been a long time since I heard anyone talk so positively about the world.” Ellen chuckled. “It’s refreshing.”

They went back to the house and finished eating the rest of Ellen’s pancakes. Thasman and Y/N volunteered to help clean everything up while answering any question Ellen would think of, and she did the same for them.

The walk to the cave was different though. The closer they got to their destination, the sadder Y/N looked, the quieter they all became and the air around them got more tense.

It was clear as day to Ellen that, at least for now, none of them wanted to go back to the ocean.

The goodbyes were short, filled with unspoken promises of seeing each other again and being able to make more delicious food. Thasman and Y/N gave Ellen one last wave goodbye before submerging into the water.

Swimming back to the kingdom, Y/N and Thasman are engulfed in silence. Her outburst really hit home for Thasman. All he wanted was to keep her safe. But in keeping her safe, Thasman knew he had to keep her home. He tried to speak when a palace guard approached them.

“Your Highness, Thasman. The King requires your presence in the throne room.”

“Yes, young knight,” she whispered as they followed him to the throne room.

Thasman and Y/N approached the throne room to find the entire court awaiting them. Y/N swam to her rightful place next to her father as she noticed some unfamiliar new merpeople.

The chatter died down under her father’s booming voice. “Now that everyone is finally here, I ask the court to let me introduce the suitors that will be competing for the Princess’ hand on the duels.”

“Oh starfish,” Y/N mumbled. “Father, I know who will be competing. I have been watching them train,” she hissed.

The king looked at her, nodding his understanding. “You and I have, my pearl,” he agreed. “But not the rest of the court. Not the people of our kingdom. With your birthday getting closer with every passing day, it is fair that the people know their possible king, even if just by name and face.”

“Yes Father,” Y/N sighed as she looked out at the crowd in the throne room. Many of whom she knew but there were a few whom she did not recognize.

The sadness was evident in her face as she stared at one particular spot in the room. The portrait of her mother, which hung towards the back wall.

“Do you think she would want this for me?” she mumbled to herself as another suitor made his way through the room, not wanting to anger her father at the mention of his deceased Queen.

The voice of the royal herald boomed once again. “Thasman Kai!”

The young merman swam forward proudly, wearing his battle armor with stoic expression and a sword hung by his hip. The cheers grew louder as he made his way across the room, stoic expression being replaced by a smile as he heard the support of his fellow citizens and soldiers alike. He had their support. He was the favorite among all the competitors so far.

He stopped next to another young merman, bowing down before the thrones where the King and Princess were seated.

“I thank Your Highness for allowing me to compete.” He stated.

And out came the next suitor.

“Michael Krill!”

Tall, with skin the same color as the finest wood of some of the ship wrecks, dark hair and an unreadable expression on his eyes, Michael Krill followed the same path his fellow suitors took with his sword in his hand.

“Father, who is he?” Y/N’s eyes widened. She had never seen him fight. Would Thasman be able to match him?

“He’s a prince from Zenara, my Pearl.” his father explained. “He arrived yesterday, asking for the chance to fight for your hand accompanied by a letter from Queen Sereia.”

Michael stopped at the same spot before the thrones, bowing like his competitors did, voicing his gratitude toward the King for allowing him to participate in the duels.

‘He will not be King,’ Y/N promised herself.

Four more suitors went by before the ordeal was over. The King stood from his throne to address all the suitors, giving them words of encouragement, talking about this ‘honorable tradition’ that his kingdom was proud to have and how lucky Y/N was to have all these ‘brave young mermen’ fighting to earn the right to rule by her side.

“I trust fully that the conqueror of these fierce tests that will be the duels will be the husband the Princess will love and the King my people deserve.” Nereus smiled. “May Poseidon’s favor be with you, and may your strength be enough and never ending, warriors.”

“May Poseidon grant you safe trials,” Y/N muttered as she looked directly at Thasman.

With Nereus dismissing everyone, Y/N swam faster than a marlin being chased by a shark. She ignored the calls she had received and made her way out of the palace. She stopped at the coral gardens, the gardens her mother loved very much. She swam in between the coral reefs until she lost sense of time. She never noticed the merman with skin resembling the wrecked ships had followed her.

“Good evening, Your Grace.”

She turned at the sound of the voice to see the one called Michael. She glared at him before turning to the rows of coral.

“Did you have to follow me?” she huffed. “I don’t know you, nor do I want to know you.”

“I apologize, Your Highness,” she heard him mumble. “I simply thought that it would be best to introduce myself, get to know one another before my victory and our coronation.”

Y/N scoffed. “How incredibly kind of you,” She spat sarcastically, turning to look at the young merman. “You have as much of a chance to win as the next suitor, and I’m afraid the sentiment of interest is not shared. Michael? Was it? I would like you to leave me be, please. I wish you the best of luck throughout the duels.”

Michael swam dangerously close to Y/N, his hand wrapped around her arm, pulling her close.

“It is only fitting that two royals are to join,” he whispered. “With our oceans combined we could rule the humans above.” He used his other hand to caress her cheek. “You know as well as I, Princess, that only royals should marry other royals. I only am joining your tournament because it is tradition.”

Y/N frowned, taking Michael’s hand in hers to take it away from her face. “I’m afraid we don’t share the same interests when it comes to humans, Michael.” she swam back, trying to put as much distance as she could between the foreign prince and her. “And as far as marriage goes: I don’t need nor want a husband; not now. No matter if royal blood runs through their veins or not.”

Michael pursed his lips, nodding, assessing what he was dealing with. “You will come to see, Princess, that I am right.”

Thasman chose that time to make his presence known. “I would swim away from the princess now.” he placed a hand to his sword. “I understand that you are royalty, but that doesn't give you the right to lay a hand on her.” Thasman glared at the prince.

A confident smile made its way to the prince’s face, looking at Thasman with amused eyes. “You really think you can win against me?” He taunted. “Guard?”

“You’ll have to wait until we face each other to find out, Highness.” Thasman swam up to him, chest puffed out.

Michael chuckled. “Father always said to me, ‘bravery and stupidity come from the same place’. I can see now that he was right. Very well, guard. We’ll save the battle for our duel. I’ll save you a place on the front line when I’m crowned King.” He turned back to Y/N, bowing. “I apologize for my conduct if I made you uncomfortable, Your Highness. Have a good evening, and I’ll see you soon.”

Thasman swam towards Y/N, floating next to her as they watched Michael swim back towards the palace. Y/N let out the breath she didn't realize she was holding. Her whole body shook with anger and fear.

“You better win, Thas,” She whispered before looking at her friend. “If you can’t, then Poseidon help us.”

“I promise you, Y/N/N.” Thasman nodded, holding onto her tightly. “That merman is not going to win. Not while I’m here.”

Silence settled between them as Y/N let herself take comfort from Thasman’s hug.

“Come with me,” he whispered. “We must speak to your father regarding how much time it would take us to ‘scout the ship wrecks’.”

Y/N nodded, sniffling once in order to contain the tears that were forming in her eyes. “Let’s go.”

Swimming back towards the throne room, Y/N and Thasman found King Nereus looking out the palace window over the kingdom. There was an ominous feeling over him. With great caution, Y/N and Thasman swam inside, closing the large door behind them.

“Father,” Y/N greeted. “We apologize for our absence last night. We went back to the ship wrecks, to try and scout how many were nearby.”

“I understand,” Nereus smiled at them. “You are doing what you can for the kingdom. Now you look troubled.” He swam to Y/N and caressed her cheek. “Are you alright?

“It’s nothing we haven’t tried to discuss, Father.” Y/N bit her lip as she glanced at Thasman.

Nereus nodded in understanding. “You’ll come to see that you’ll learn to love the merman who rules by your side, my pearl.” He sighed in reminiscence. “Poseidon knows, it worked well for your Mother and I. She fought tooth and fin for me.”

“Your highness,” Thasman interjected. “I have a bad feeling about one of the suitors.”

Her friend’s comment gained the King’s attention. “Which one?”

“Michael, your highness,” Thasman closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. “I caught him grabbing the princess’s arm harshly. I know he is royal and I have no say,” Thasman bowed his head. “But no merman should ever grab a mermaid harshly.”

“In that I agree,” Nereus conceded, looking at Y/N seriously. “I’ll have a couple of the royal guards keep an eye on him at all times. I cannot take him out of the tournament, but I can prevent something like that from happening again, my pearl.”

“Yes father,” Y/N whispered as she turned away from him. Tears slowly slipping down her cheeks.

Her father’s arms wrapped slowly around her. A soft kiss placed on the top of her head.

“Tell me how much time do you need to scout the ship wrecks,” he proceeded. “I can give you all the time you need, but you must be back in time to finish all the arrangements for the coronation, the tournament and the fitting of your coronation dress, my pearl.”

“You said mother fought tooth and fin for you,” she whispered. “I’m fighting tooth and fin against this.” she pushed away and swam out and towards her room.

Thasman was going to go after her when Nereus placed a hand on the young guard’s shoulder.

“I must speak with you Thasman,” he muttered. “The princess cannot know of this.”

“Is something wrong, Your Highness?” the merman tensed up.

“I want you to look after her, Thasman.” The king looked deep into Thasmans’s eyes. Pleading with the young guard. “ Whatever happens, you look after her, you understand me? You take her far away to the ends of the sea if you think it’s what’s best for her safety.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” Thasman swore. “With my life, if I have to.”

“I know you will,” The king smiled. “Now, go rest. You have training tomorrow.”

The King made his way back to the throne, followed by the young merman.

“One more thing, Your Highness.” he pleaded.

“What is it, Thasman?”

He took a deep breath, trying to think of how much time would be enough for Y/N. “The… The ship wrecks, Your Majesty.” He explained. “I think nine days should be more than enough for us to head to the ones we found and explore for more. Assess how long it would take to remove them, extract anything that might be useful and get some help from the local creatures… Worse comes to worst, we come back empty handed and with more plans for the future.”

“Ah, yes,” Nereus nodded, taking his rightful place at the throne. “Very well. Nine days. You start packing tomorrow, and leave for the ship wrecks the day after tomorrow. Understood, Thasman?”

The merman bowed. “Yes, Your Majesty. Thank you for granting us this favor.”

With that, Thasman left the throne room, swimming towards the Y/N’s chambers, pushing aside the hanging kale that replaced what in the human world would be the door to enter it.

He popped his head inside her room. “Y/N?”

Looking around, Thasman saw a trembling bulk on the Princess’ bed. He sighed, swimming inside and laying a hand over it.

“Please leave, Thasman.” The bulk mumbled.

A sad smile made way to his lips. “Oh, Y/N/N,” he lamented, “if only you knew… I come bearing good news.”

The bulk stopped trembling. “Did Michael unexpectedly die?”

Thasman chuckled, shaking his head. “Unfortunately not. But, I spoke with the King…” one of his hands made way towards the edge of the kelp made sheets, slowly lifting it until they weren’t covering Y/N’s face anymore. “And he gave us nine days to explore the ship wrecks.”

Y/N gave him an incredulous look. “You are lying.”

Thasman couldn’t contain his laughter at his friend’s expression. “I swear on Ellen’s food that I am not lying.” He shook her gently. “Nine whole days, my friend.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Y/N threw the sheets off her body and began swimming around her room to pack for what they needed.

“We have tomorrow to pack, and we leave the next morning. After that, it’s nine whole days on the surface for us.” Thasman smiled. “Figured that we could use more than a few days to explore everything.”

“Thasman,” Y/N smiled. “This is amazing!” she swam to her friend hugging him tightly. “Thank you.”

Thasman chuckled, hugging back just as tightly. “We still need to come back in time for the tournament, though.”

“Right,” Y/N sighed. “I just hope it’s everything I dreamed.”

The next day was filled with nothing but duties for Y/N and Thasman to fulfill. Aside from his own guard duties, Thasman was training harder than ever. Determined to win the tournament and keep Y/N safe. Y/N was in the archives, with Liara watching her closely. She could tell that there was something off. Usually the Princess would fight her fin and shell to study anything but coronation etiquette.

“I see you have a new suitor who wishes to win your hand,” Liara swam up to the princess and placed another scroll in front of her.

Y/N shrugged nonchalantly. “Michael? Or another merman?”

“Michael?” Liara raised a brow, “Where did he say he was from?”

“Some kingdom from far away, Father said. I can’t remember the name.” She shrugged again. “He’s not going to win either way.”

“You know,” Liara glanced at the secret archive, “I think I will burn the archive. It is too much trouble to keep.” She sighed, “It is a lot of knowledge, but humans can be so horrible.” Liara hid her smirk as she watched the Princess’s expression.

“What?!” she exclaimed, dropping the scroll in her hand and turning towards the keeper, frantically babbling. “You can’t do that! There’s– no! Why would you do that?! You’re the scrollkeeper– that– that’s your job, Liara!”

“My job is to keep the records for our people. Not the humans,” Liara smiled. “Besides, I think we have learned enough.”

“No! We haven’t learned enough, Liara.” Y/N insisted. “Not even the first bit! There’s so much food and the way they live and– sure, they have their flaws but– but there’s so much we don’t know.”

“And how would you know that, Your Highness?” Liara raised an eyebrow.

“You already know Thasman and I saw Ellen,” Y/N bit her lip. “We never got to write down what we experienced.” She tried to cover it quickly. “Shouldn’t we be preparing for my birthday?”

“What is going on with you today, Y/N?”

“Nothing! I just think that… shouldn’t you be teaching me something about my coronation? The duels? How to be Queen? The usual?”

“Hmmmm,” Liara gazed into the Princess’s eyes. “You are up to something ,Y/N. You already know all this, as you have told me many times. Plus--” she placed a finger under the princess’s chin and lifted it so that Y/N’s eyes met hers. “You are not able to trick me, starfish.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Liara.”

“Very well,” Liara swam away. “I think we are done for today. I believe the training sessions should be over. I see no harm in ending early for today.”

Y/N stayed silent as Liara left, sighing to herself in frustration. Liara was right; she had never been able to hide anything from her. Sooner or later she would find out that she and Thasman weren’t going to explore ‘shipwrecks’ and the trouble that was going to cause with her would be huge.

Which meant that Liara was going to go somewhere else for answers. As Ellen had said at some point during the night at her house: “Oh, shit!”

She left the archives as fast as she could, almost crashing against a few merpeople that she found in her way, exclaiming ‘sorry!’ with every barely avoided accident. She had looked away for just one second when she crashed into someone.

“Ah~ee” (Ouch) the princess winced. “I’m sorry.” she looked up to see Michael smirking at her. “Never mind, I take my apology back.” she moved to swim past him.

Michael smiled, watching the Princess go. “It is always a pleasure seeing you, Your Highness.”

Y/N rolled her eyes as she swam past servants who were making preparations for the celebration. She smiled when she saw Thasman.

“We need to be careful,” she whispered to him.

Thasman scoffed. “Always.”

“Liara knows we are up to something.” Y/N sighed as they swam towards her room. “I guess I should have acted normal, but I wanted to have an easy day.”

Her friend nodded, looking around for any signs of the scrollkeeper. “We just need to avoid her the rest of the day. We’re leaving tomorrow morning…” Thasman nodded once more, sounding unsure. “Yeah. We can do this.”

Y/N swam around her room as she finished packing what they could use. She made a note to bring some things that Ellen would like to see. She looked over at Thasman and frowned.

“Should we bring food that we eat here to share with her?” she asked as she looked at what she was packing.

“Do humans eat raw fish, coral and kale?” he tilted his head. “Maybe she knows a way to cook them.”

“Hmmm,” Y/N tilted her head in thought. “We could take the coral. I’m sure we can find fresh fish to prepare raw, and I remember that she put kale in the salad?”

“You’re right…” he swam around her room, looking for something else to take with them. “Hey, Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you been able to love our food as much as you did before that first meal from Ellen?”

“Nope!” she laughed. “Every time I eat, I wish I was back at Ellen’s kitchen!”

“Happens to me too.” Thasman shook his head. “I feel like we’ve been really missing out on food. I want more of that bacon thing.” he laughed.

Y/N smiled, recalling everything Ellen had prepared with or without their help. “The lasagna was better.” she looked at him. “And I thought that your favorite thing was the pancakes!”

“I am in Taafoowii (Love) with Ellen’s pancakes!” He confirmed, swimming back towards Y/N with a coral necklace. “But the bacon thing was good too. What do you think? Ellen might like this one.”

“What is bacon?” Liara poked her head into Y/N’s room. “And what are you two up to?”

They shared a worried look before Thasman turned to the scrollkeeper. “It’s nothing, Liara. I’m just helping Y/N pack for our trip to the shipwrecks tomorrow.”

“The shipwrecks?” Liara swam inside as she looked at Thasman. She knew the merman like the back of her hand. She had helped raise him since he was a guppy. “And what do you intend to do? I mean there is nothing to be done. They are relics.” she swam around them. “There is nothing to be done about the relics. They cannot be moved.”

Y/N tried to swim closer to the older mermaid, only to be stopped by her putting up a hand in front of herself. “Liara, we–”

“Do you think I am a jellyfish?” Liara hissed. “That I don’t know what you two are up to? You two have always been up to mischief since you were old enough to swim the currents on your own.” She looked at Thasman. “Your mother left you in my care as she lay in her deathbed. She specifically asked for me to care for you. I know you like the back of my tail Thasman.” Shaking her head she took a deep breath. “You don’t know the danger you are putting yourselves into. I am going to inform him of your real intentions.”

Thasman’s eyes widened. “No, please!” he exclaimed. “Liara, I’m begging you. The King has given us the authorization to leave the palace for nine days to explore and scout the ship wrecks. We’re not doing anything wrong.”

“You going to see the shipwrecks is a lie,” Liara gazed into Thasmans eyes. “You are only going to get yourselves killed.” she hissed.

The merman stared right back, trying to muster all his courage. “Y/N will never leave my sight.”

“That is not what I mean,” she shook her head. “It is dangerous for a mermaid or man to be on the surface for a long period of time. It can cause serious harm to be away from the ocean.” She bit her lip, thinking of her own experience.

“We won’t be away from the ocean.” Y/N was quick to assure. “Ellen would never let us be in harm’s way. Thasman has insisted on bringing with him one of his daggers. If it’s so dangerous, why don’t you just tell us what can be done? What we need?”

“Because there is nothing to be done!” she yelled. “I was with your mother,” she looked at Thasman. “When we ventured to the human world.”

Thasman gulped at the thought of his mother going to the surface. “What happened?”

“We stayed there too little too long.” Liara mumbled back, her worried eyes on his. “We barely made it back on time. You can’t stay there. You won’t survive long.”

“We’re going, Liara. It’s been settled with my father.” Y/N growled.

“Thasman, please listen to reason.” Liara pleaded with the merman. “You must know that your mother fell in Taafoowii (love) on the surface. But it cannot be. There is no way our people can survive. I have never heard of anything that can do this.”

“She what?” The merman stuttered.

“She was in Taafoowii (love) with a human,” she whispered. “We were young and I was her friend. But he was handsome and--”

“And what?” Y/N looked at Liara. “I don’t believe you. I know that there has to be a way that we can survive on the surface. There has to be.”

Liara shook her head. “In all my years in the archive, I have never read about anything like what you speak of.”

Thasman, on the other hand, had sat down on the princess’ bed, skin pale as dead coral and a faraway look in his eyes. “My father was a human?”

“Both of you listen to me!” Liara exclaimed exasperated. When she was sure she had their attention, she proceeded. “What you’re doing is reckless. It’s going to put both of you in danger. You’re risking exposing our kind to the human world.”

“We won’t!” Y/N insisted. “Please, Liara let us explore. Let us learn. I promise we will be careful! No one will know what we are.” Y/N looked at Thasman. “Thasman, tell her.”

“Liara,” he began. “Where did my mother and you go when you visited the surface?”

“Matagorda,” Liara muttered. “Thasman you are a merman! Your father is a merman.” Liara bit her lip. “He died in the service of the king.”

“Are you sure about that?” Thasman challenged. “If you were up there long enough for my mother to get in bad shape, and this human you speak of was attractive– maybe– maybe they had enough time.”

“I--” Liara licked her lips. “It’s what your mother told me and I trust her.”

“My mother died, Liara.” he reminded her bitterly. “There’s no reason for you to keep secrets on her behalf. If my father was human I– I’m going to find out.”

“Of all the things I said, that’s what you held on to?”

“I have heard what you’ve been saying, Liara, I swear.” Thasman insisted. “But this is still happening. We have gone to the surface twice now, and with every trip, I have grown fond of Ellen.” Thasman clenched his fists and closed his eyes before glaring at Liara. “I have grown fond of the human world and even if I hadn’t, the Princess is still going, so I’m going with her to make sure she’s safe. You can’t stop this. You can help us, or not, but we’re still going. The only thing we ask of you is your silence.”

Liara took in a deep gulp, “I--” she felt her heart break at how he talked of the human woman called Ellen. “Very well.” she all but whispered. “I will continue my search for this… miracle that would help you above water.” she whispered.

“Liara,” Thasman called to her softly. “Thank you.”

“I just hope I do not have to say, ‘I told you so’,” with that she walked out of the room. Neither Y/N nor Thasman noticed as tears ran down her cheeks.

An awkward silence settled between them while Y/N finished packing. Thasman had stopped helping much, looking out to nothing in particular, lost in thought.

“Okay,” Y/N smiled. “I think that is everything.” she grabbed her bag and swam to her friend. “Thas? Are you okay?”

“I think so.” he mumbled, swimming towards the room’s exit. “I’ll let you finish. I’m going to check on Liara and try to apologize for my tone before– before we leave.” he turned back to look at her. “We’re leaving early, so be ready, Y/N. Please.”

“I might be too excited to sleep,” she admitted. “But I will try.”

Thasman nodded distractedly, “Yeah, try. Rest well, if you can.”

“NIght, Thas,” Y/N kissed his cheek before snuggling into her kelp blankets.

Thasman sighed before closing the door and making his way to the archives. He knocked at first but no one answered. Sighing, he made his way through the castle towards Liara’s quarters, taking what little time he had to think what he would say when he saw her.

The closer he got to Liara’s quarters, the slower he swam. He could hear the faint sounds of sobbing coming from her door. The closer he swam, the louder the sobs seemed to get. He paused when he noticed her door slightly ajar. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he froze when he saw her position. She was sitting on a soft bed of coral holding what looked like a portrait.

“Robert,” she whispered. “I am so sorry. I want to keep him safe. But I don’t know if I can.”

Thasman swam as slowly and quietly as he could, doing his best to not alert her of his presence. He knew that Liara liked her privacy. Always had. But he couldn’t help his curiosity. Who was Robert? And why was Liara crying? What has this man done that had the only parental figure he ever had growing up weeping like a guppy?

The sound of her pain made the knot in his chest grow as well as the lump in his throat. He hugged her from behind, feeling her tense up at the sudden intrusion.

“It’s me,” he murmured. “It’s just me, I promise. I got you. I’m safe.”

“Thasman,” she whispered. “Please don’t let anything harm the princess. Not even her curiosity for the human world. I know I can not change your mind, but you must be careful.” she turned to hug thasman tightly. There was something to her embrace that to Thasman felt like home.

He held onto her harder. “We’ll be fine, I promise.” His eyes found the weird portrait of the so-called ‘Robert’. “Liara… why do you have the image of a human here?”

“I--” Liara sighed. “He was the human I had to leave behind.” she admitted. “Your mother loved one human, I fell for another.”

“Are humans really as bad as our stories make them out to be?” Thasman asked.

“Some are,” she caressed his cheek. “Others are very kind and sweet. And yes their food is amazing.”

“Like Ellen.” Thasman concluded.

Liara reluctantly agreed. “Like Ellen.”

“I should go rest,” Thasman pulled away, but not before planting a kiss on Liara’s forehead. “We will fill the archives with new information that Y/N and I find. We can learn so much from them.”

“If it wasn’t for the last few days, I would have almost forgotten how stubborn you are, Thasman.” Liara smiled fondly. “You’re still that little Crab.”

Thasman let out a chuckle, “you helped raise me, Liara.” He looked down at the sea floor before gazing back at the wise merwoman. “When I come back,” he licked his lips, “Will you tell me what my mother was like?”

Liara took a moment to calm herself (like she usually did whenever he asked about his mother), then nodded. “Yeah, Thas. After you tell me everything you did on the surface.”

“Good night Liara,” Thasman gave her one last hug before leaving her quarters and making his way to his own.

The next day, Y/N waited for Thasman by the reef. She couldn’t hold her excitement. Nine whole days on the surface. She could only imagine what treasures and new discoveries they would find. Thasman had shown up not a minute after she had arrived. Much of what transpired between himself and Liara still on his mind.

“Are you ready?” Y/N smiled.

“No.” He smiled. “Let’s do this.”

Y/N laughed as she began swimming towards the current, “the last one to the cave is a jellyfish!”

It didn’t take long before the two of them had raced to the Cave. Thasman grumpy because Y/N beat him to it. As they got ready, Y/N thought back to the scrolls in the archive and how she saw different patterns and colors of clothing.

She turned to Thasman. “Do you remember the way back to Ellen’s house?”

“I think so,” Thasman said as he put on his pants and shoes. “It shouldn’t be too hard. Doesn’t she live by the green-eyed man?”

“She does.”

Her friend nodded. “Well then, let’s go to his house and we’ll look for Ellen’s when we get close to it.” he shrugged.

As they neared the green-eyed man’s home, they found Ellen’s house quickly. Turning towards its direction and going as fast as they could go with the few things they had been able to bring along. Y/N made her way up Ellen’s porch and knocked on the door just like Ellen taught her.

“Hello?” she called out. “Ellen?”

Ellen opened the door with a smile, “Well, you two really can’t stay away can’t cha’.” she gave them both tight hugs before letting them in. “I take it this will be a longer stay?”

Thasman nodded shyly, remembering that they hadn’t asked for her permission to stay so long. “Nine whole days, if that’s alright.”

“Of course it is, sweetie.” she smiled. “Come on in, let’s get y’all settled down.”

“Thank you so much, Ellen.”

Ellen guided them through the house and a couple of spare rooms on the second floor of the house.

“I used to rent those rooms to tourists.” Had been her explanation. “Had an incident with the last ones and… well, I don’t rent them anymore.”

Ellen had taken a look at their small bags, and shook her head.

“I’m guessing I’m gonna have to take ya both shopping.” She chuckled.

Both nodded. “Yeah…” Y/N said sheepishly.

“But, what can we do to earn things to trade with?” Thasman looked at Ellen.

“Oh!” she realized what he meant. “You mean to earn money? I mean I’m sure there are a couple of things you can do in town.” She gave Thasman a once over. “I’m sure I can introduce you to Bobby and see if he needs a hand at the salvage yard?”

Thasman simply nodded. He would find out what that all meant later.

“For now, don’t worry. Consider it a gift and a learning experience,” she gave his cheek a gentle pat. “Now, let’s get you two settled in your rooms. So Thasman, you are across from Y/N, and Y/N your room is next to mine.”

Both rooms were moderately decorated. They each had a bed and a few places where Thasman and Y/N could put away their belongings. Y/N’s room overlooked the ocean and had a view of the green-eyed man’s house. Thasman’s room had a view of the town where he could see all the humans moving around from place to place. He also had a view of the salvage yard Ellen had mentioned. Ellen couldn’t help but smile at the two young merpeople who were excited about their experience.

Human beds, like most human things, are amazing.

It was after a minute of letting them really explore her house that she realized the time.

“Alright, I’m going to buy a couple of ingredients again for lunch and dinner.” She grabbed her bag and looked at Y/N. “You wanna come with me?”

Ellen smirked at the sight of the shiny, black 67’ Impala, that drove up the driveway on the house next door.

“Sure.” Y/N gushed, excited at the prospect of something new to experience.

“What should I do?” Thasman pouted as he wondered why Ellen didn’t invite him.

Ellen walked him over to her computer and opened up the history channel's web page.

“Research,” she ruffled his hair. “You are going to learn about some of our history. Now it isn’t all good, but it’s a learning experience.” she sighed, “our history is full of death and destruction, but it is also full of people who tried to stop those who would destroy it.” She turned to Y/N, “ready darlin’?”

“I think so,” Y/N smiled.

On their way to the market, Ellen had pointed out different little things that Y/N never noticed. When they entered the Market, Y/N was awestruck. Rows and rows of different things. She wondered how the humans could eat so much. She then noticed that it wasn’t all food. Ellen pointed out the different things that humans use. Some for cleaning their dwellings, others for their bodies. She was amazed at all the things humans needed. Along the way she lost track of Ellen and had ended up in front of a glass case that displayed different fish.

She recognized most of the fish that were displayed, but there were a couple that she had never seen around the kingdom or the shore.

She walked along the display, taking her time to watch the humans that bought their fish, but collided with something. Shaking her head, Y/N looked at who she bumped into before her eyes met a pair of green eyes. Her heart pounded in her chest as she came face to face with the green-eyed man.

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athenril-of-kirkwall · 3 years

Text

More Solavellan smut, because you all love it, babe!

Solavellan, “Healthy Disagreements” (AO3) [Explicit]

Solas was in his study, set on the lowest floor of the library rotunda that was adjacent to the main hall in Skyhold, poring over some sketches he’d made of the frescoes he’d observed at that lost temple of Dirthamen which he, Rivka, and the others had explored not a week past following his research into the glyphs they’d found amongst scattered ruins in the Exalted Plains whilst they were clearing out the Freemen there.

He in particular was fascinated by the fact that many of the murals had in fact been not of Dirthamen but of Falon’Din, that guardian and friend of the dead. He let himself have a smirk, marvelling that the old secret-keeper would choose to hide himself behind another’s guise, even unto the very end…and beyond. He looked over their form and design carefully, looking for any variations from what he knew Falon’Din normally looked like to see if the God of Secrets’ handiwork was visible.

Casting a gaze at the oil lamp on his table, he idly wondered how long he’d been at work. Certainly it was long past the time where more sensible men retired to their quarters. But then again, he hardly felt like dreaming tonight, and Rivka had assured him, in fact multiple times, that neither he nor she would be needed for much important the next day.

So focused was he upon his task that he barely noticed her coming in, only glancing up to acknowledge Rivka’s presence as he heard the door closing behind her.

Looking back down at his sketches, he said, “Evening, vhenan. Or is it morning? I hadn’t thought you’d be up at this unearthly hour, to be quite honest. I…”

Slamming her palms on the table, Rivka violently interrupted him, saying, “It’s an hour past midnight, Solas, and I well know that because I’ve been sitting around for a full hour in my room waiting for you to come up.”

Barely even reacting to the jolt which had shaken his desk and merely noting that the oil lamp hadn’t been upset, Solas said, giving a cursory look to Rivka, “Ah, yes! Pardon me, vhenan, but I was so caught on a detail I found in my last sketch that—”

“Dread Wolf take your sketches and your murals!”, Rivka shouted, yanking them off the desk and scattering them on the floor, where they gently fluttered to land around her slippered feet. “And the least you could do is look at me when you talk to me, as well!”

Having no choice but to do so, Solas turned his gaze upwards at Rivka, noting that her usually coiffed hair was now hanging in strands around her face, and that she didn’t seem to be wearing much beyond a silken robe with a Chantry insignia on it and her slippers.

Finally, he asked, “Forgive me, Rivka. Is there something I have done to warrant…”

“I don’t think I will, and I think you have, or more accurately haven’t, Solas,” she scolded. “When I ask you to come up to my quarters for a…private meeting…I expect you to at least tell me if you’re not going to beforehand instead of wasting my time.”

Looking more closely at her, Solas noted that despite the chill of the night and her rather scant attire, she was flushed partly with anger and partly with…something else.

Comprehending some of the subtext, he said, “I am truly sorry, Rivka. I must still have failed to grasp your meaning when you did say that, and I swear that I was far too engrossed with my work to note the passing of the hour.”

Walking around the table to draw herself up to him, Rivka said, “I’m not going to accept your apology, and I’m certainly not going to say sorry for knocking all your precious drawings to the floor either, seeing as you clearly care about them far more than you do me. So, are you going to do something about that?”

“Whatever do you mean?”, he asked innocently.

Rolling her eyes, she said, “Creators help me if you truly don’t get it, and may they help you if you’re just playing dumb. This is what I mean.”

Demonstrating her intent, she reached out for the back of Solas’ neck and head and pinned her lips to his, forcefully kissing him repeatedly and breaking away only to catch a breath.

“There,” she said. “That’s what I was expecting a full hour ago, in the comfort of my own room, and not in the chilly recesses of—”

She never finished her sentence as he now took the initiative, forcing her to seat upon the now-empty desk as he took his turn to land his own kisses upon her. Before she could lay back upon it or adjust her position, he grasped his beloved by her arms, his own eyes flashing lustfully.

“I think I am about to ‘do something about it’, as you’ve so nicely put it,” he hissed. “But before that, a word?”

“A word?”, Rivka asked, essentially thinking aloud before realising what he meant. “‘Ocularum’, then.”

His question was silently asked by the raise of an eyebrow.

“It’s the least sexy thing I know,” she explained. “Now, I suppose you’re going to take your anger out on me for scattering your beloved sketches?”

Answering her in husky breaths, he said, “And more. It’s remarkable—and distressing for your people as a whole—that you lived your entire life in a clan with essentially a dozen mothers and fathers and none of them taught you any manners.”

“Manners?”

“What sort of person petulantly storms into another’s study and throws their work to the ground when they think they’re not being given enough attention?”, he asked. “Imagine the insolence were you to do that anywhere else, to anyone else!”

Locking her gaze into his, she breathily said, “Ooh, say ‘insolence’ again, Solas. I like the sound of the word on your lips.”

“Amongst so many things about them. Time to work this insolence out of your system then, vhenan,” he growled, next commanding, “Turn around.”

Looking at Solas with a blank expression, Rivka saw his turn from impatience to offence.

“Did you not hear me, Rivka?”, he said. “Turn around and put your hands on the table. If I have to ask again I can’t promise you I’ll do so patiently.”

Nodding meekly, she turned to face the table and gently placed her palms on the tabletop. With a sudden jerk, one hand on the small of her back and another at her nape, Solas forced her down on the table, her nipples squashing against her breasts as her cheek firmly landed on it too. The bottom of her robe hiked up a little as she bent forward, and she felt a chill draught around her thighs, shivering as she did so.

Solas then glided along the insides of her legs with his knuckles, curving away from her quim to round her buttocks as he gathered the loose end of her robe, bunching its folds and gathering them around her waist, exposing her to the elements and noting with some amusement that firstly, she had indeed not been wearing anything under that robe, and next that she was already slick with anticipation.

Rivka gasped as he spread her arousal along the length of her folds with his fingertips, moaning as the momentary contact faded just as soon as he’d made it.

“Shush,” he said. “This is meant to be a reprimand, not an outlet for your lasciviousness. Lie still whilst I administer some corrections.”

“Corrections?” was all she was able to manage as she thought about what he meant before she felt the sudden sting of his palm on her buttock, releasing a loud groan of pleasure as its coursed through her body.

“Enough!”, he cried, smacking the other one in an attempt to silence her but only making her moan even louder, alternating between the two savagely.

Gasping shallowly, Rivka felt her slick running down her thigh, glancing upwards and hoping nobody was watching or hearing this depraved scene.

“You really are something else,” he said, “Wantonly crying out so that everybody in this rotunda can hear your arousal. I wonder if…”

She’d barely even started pondering his trailed-off sentence before the next slap struck her full on her lips, causing her to quiver in pleasure, with the next one and the following one after that making her buck against the empty air where Solas’ palm had been, and she felt herself on the brink of coming when he reached out and grabbed her entire mound with his hand, closing her lips against each other.

What pleasure there was turned to pain as he gripped it tighter, the force of his fingertips overriding any urge or ability for her to come there and then, and she felt tears from both agony and joy run down her face as he leant over her back, whispering into her ear.

“Don’t presume to come now, not without permission. Do so and I’ll leave your hands bound to this table and bring you to the edge of orgasm again and again, unable to relieve yourself until I decide you’re worthy of doing so,” he promised, asking, “Do you understand me, vhenan?”

She nodded as best she could, her cheek scraping a little as she did so against the table.

“Good,” he said, seemingly satisfied with that. After some silence, she heard some noises behind her, like cloth falling from a place, then the sound of Solas’ footsteps again.

“I do wonder now,” she heard him ponder, “If you’ve ever given this over to anyone.”

At this, she felt what had to be the tip of his phallus briefly touch…briefly touch her rear end? No! Not there! She shook violently against the notion, feeling fresh tears run down her face as she did so.

“Shush,” he said gently. “Calm yourself. I was merely asking. And…here?”

Warmth pulsed through her body as he made contact with her pussy, and she nodded enthusiastically, biting her lip to restrain herself from moaning lustfully at the touch’s promise.

Her self-control was brought to the edge of her limits as she felt his tip slide in whilst his thumbs sought out the little dimples on the back of her waistline and his fingers grasped the skin around her hips, rolling the flesh of her curves between them. Just as she sensed all those touches on her skin, his shaft fully slid into her, Rivka groaning as he did so, with his grip on her hips tightening as he pumped in and out of her body.

Although not quite as long and as…girthy…as she’d imagined or fantasised, it was hitting all the right spots, the head in particular coming to rest against a tight bundle of nerves that caused her to gasp as he slowly, agonisingly, massaged it with his cock. She tried to work her pussy around him to stimulate that spot, but that was only met with anger, as he withdrew his penis entirely, leaving her aching for him to thrust it in again.

“Are simple instructions beyond you, Rivka?”, he hissed, reaching for her wrists one at a time and pinning them to the small of her back with one hand as he slid back into her, stating, “I’ll be taking my pleasure first before you’re allowed to do anything. Understood?”

She nodded again, trying to relax and stand still despite the myriad of sensations coursing through her as he resumed fucking her over his worktable, the obscene sounds of slapping skin echoing through the tower. His pace, steady at first, became more and more fervent, only slowing down long enough for him to lean over to her ear again, shifting his body weight on her wrists as his grip tightened to a vice.

“I think I’m about to reach…that point,” he growled, asking, “Are you ready as well?”

She nodded, and started quivering and trembling impatiently under and around him as the wait for the promise in his words dragged on, until he reached under her chin with his free hand, tilting her head up at him so he could make sure she saw his stern glare. Rivka slowed her breath, exhaling fully as she attempted to calm down. As Solas released her chin, she also felt his grip around her wrists vanish.

“Hands on the table again, vhenan,” Solas ordered, further commanding, “Let’s not have any distractions, shall we?”

Grasping her hips again, he ploughed into her savagely, grunting and groaning in ancient elvhen as he brought himself to his climax, flushing her insides with his release. Rivka heard his voice, as though from a vast distance, saying, “Now, vhenan. Be with me here and now.”

The floodgates tore open there and then, as she screamed to the high heavens, her palms digging into the table as she ignored the last of his commands, slamming her rear into his hips to drive herself over the top, feeling her own fluids flood her pussy, mixing with his as they dripped out of her and along her thighs, trickling downwards to stain her slippers and, ultimately, the floor of Solas’ study.

Rivka flopped bonelessly onto the surface of his desk, breathing hard and quivering with the aftershocks of her orgasm, even as she felt him withdraw at last, the final strands connecting the two breaking in the middle and falling upon the ground.

Long moments passed before, in the blink of an eye, she found herself transported back into her own bed, all offending fluids cleaned up, and naked under her sheets. Rivka gasped, sitting up and turning around to find Solas next to her under the bedcovers, also similarly undressed.

Smiling, he asked her, “Was that everything you expected it to be?”

Her cheeks flushed, Rivka nodded wordlessly as she slowly regained her composure, finally managing to answer, “Yes. I…didn’t know if it’d all work out but…you were so commanding, and it felt so right.”

“I’m glad you appreciated it,” he said, asking, “Although I do wonder if all of your fantasies are this…vivid?”

“What do you mean?”, she asked, it apparently being her turn.

“Simply that there are few whom I have known or met would so willingly…let themselves be used, as such,” he said.

Rivka asked in equal parts hesitance and defensiveness, “You’re not judging me, are you?”

“Not in the least,” Solas answered quickly. “I just was curious as to whether your own romances in the physical world ever took such turns as our times together here have.”

She shook her head, explaining, “No, the last time I was…with someone…was shortly before the Conclave. We’d both been dispatched by our clan to attend the Conclave, and we both knew it’d be the last time we’d see each other for a while, if at all. He was a nice lad, and we spent the night beforehand gently and tenderly.”

“I see,” he said, then coming to a realisation. “If you were both at the Conclave then…”

Rivka nodded her head slowly and sadly, confirming his deductions. “Ismael didn’t make it. Neither did his brother Esaias.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Solas said. “Forgive me for dredging that pain up again.”

She now shook her head curtly. “It’s alright. It hurts less nowadays. But you’re right, I think. I’m only this…adventurous…in the Fade. I don’t know if it’s the Fade itself inducing this, or…”

“…your thoughts about me?”, he asked.

“You know me too well,” Rivka said with a laugh. “Still, thanks for bringing me somewhere warmer and cozier after all of that. Have we time to just…lie here a while?”

Solas smiled, saying, “We have all the time we want or need, vhenan. Come over here.”

Taking him up on his invitation, Rivka slid down the bed and rolled over until she was close enough to put her arms around him, and him hers, burying her face in her shoulder and relaxing into his body as the minutes before the sunrise, and the inevitable return to their responsibilities in the daytime, slowed to eternity.

@dadrunkwriting

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