An Unwanted Promotion

Note: hello!! First post hehe, hope you guys like getting to know my oc! I'll be posting a short fic of him soon!

Church - Fall Out Boy

Oh, the things that you do in the name of what you love You were doomed but just enough You were doomed but just enough

Name: Nicolas "Saint" Dryden

Pronouns: He/Him

Age: 55

Occupation: Retired Colonel

Appearance: Nicolas stands at an intimidating height of 6'4 with a large physique and broad shoulders and back. He has multiple scars and a few tattoos, most notable ones being the large and jagged slash running across his back from a mission gone wrong. The most notable tattoo is the cross he has on the right side of his body. Nicolas is fair skinned and has a beard, which is well kept and groomed. He has dark and intense brown eyes that seem to pierce right into the person he is staring at. He has inky brown hair that is also well kept and groomed, he likes to keep it fairly short due to his time in the military.

Personality: Cunning + Caring to those he's close to + A family man + Protective + Loyal + Rough + Blunt + Charming + Gruff + Smart + Aggressive + Extravagant + Secretive + Manipulative + Obsessive + Yandere

Interests: his firebrand + Military movies + Whiskey + Hunting + Spoiling his firebrand + his pet dog Daisy + woodworking + carving + cooking + carving

Loves: Making his firebrand happy + Pampering his firebrand + manhandling his firebrand + making or buying his firebrand gifts + seeing his firebrand wear the marks he left on them + dogs + camping + chasing his firebrand through the woods

Dislikes: seeing his firebrand try to escape + his firebrand crying (unless it's from the pure pleasure he's giving them or because they're choking on his cock) + wanderers who manage to find his home which is secluded in the woods

Description: was the commanding officer at the base their darling was stationed at as a daycare teacher + very protective of their darling + loves to keep a hand on his firebrand both sexually and in a non sexual way + Very sexually pent up + Very manipulative + Cunning + very possessive + will use whatever means necessary to keep his firebrand with him + is not above using his grandson to keep his darling with him.

Fetish: Hearing his darling moan + Making his darling cum + Edging his darling + Praising his darling + darling being submissive + Spanking his darling + Light asphyxiation + Degrading his darling + Humiliating his darling + Making his darling beg. + Fucking his darling on the forest floor + primal play + breeding + creampies

Good story

Written in the Stars

Platonic Yandere Older Brother & Younger Selkie Genderneutral Reader

Your home life is tense at the best of times, with your mother fickle and moody and your father more concerned with her than his children. It would be complete misery without your brother, Cillian, who looked after you the way your parents should have, a bright light in your gloomy days.

But as family secrets come to the surface and your life starts to unravel, you're forced to wonder if your brother is any better than the parents that raised him.

Content Warnings: confinement, forced marriage (not between reader), unhealthy relationships, abandonment issues, mentions of mental illness, child abuse, child endangerment, isolation, death, and general yandere shenanigans. Let me know if I missed anything

Word Count: 10.5k

Authors Note: I played it pretty fast and loose with this one so I have no idea when exactly this takes place, but it's somewhere before the industrial revolution in Ireland. So if you're wondering why there's no modern technology, that's why lol also this turned out way longer then it was supposed to, I have no idea why, it was supposed to be a quick 2k story and then it just got away from me. Whoops. Also the mother and fathers story is loosely based on traditional fairytale of fish wives and selkies. I remember reading a couple and thinking "wouldn't it be messed up if they had children?" And. Well. You can tell me how messed up it turned out lol

You're sick. You were born sick, and you always will be. It's all you remember.

Your first memory was of little four year old you wandering out of the house. Father was fishing, Cillian was tending to the animals and Mother was resting because of sickness as per usual, so there was no one to stop you. No concerned caregiver to bustle you back into the house and scold you for your carelessness as you pouted for being denied your will.

You simply walked out the front door.

You had no understanding of what you were doing. Just a unceasing tug propelling you out and way from the house until the air smelled of salt, and you could hear the faint crashing of waves steadily growing louder.

Then there was the sea.

Your memories get fuzzy then, as your mind grew clouded by pure, blinding need. But you do remember the feel of grass slowly turning to sand under your bare feet. The way the rolling of the waves enveloped your mind completely, your eyes unable to move away.

Then your feet hit the cold of the water, and you snap awake, looking around, finally aware of where you are, and how far away from home it was. Confused and on the verge of panic, you try to call out for your brother only for your eyes to be pulled back into the blue, and all thoughts are gone, and you feel a deep, primordial comfort, the same comfort you imagine children feel when being embraced by their mother.

You step forward.

First, it's up to your feet, then your knees, then your waist. The salt water saps away at your body heat the deeper you go, but you don't mind it, you don't mind anything at all. After all, you're right where you're meant to be.

The salt water is almost up to your chest when you're swept off your feet and taken away from the water. You begin to thrash and cry, a horrible, searing pain in your chest at being separated from the sea, like a part of your being was torn from your body. Your cries are so loud, you don't even realize that it's Cillian who took you away until he turns you toward him and starts yelling at you.

The specifics of it are lost on you, but it's not hard to guess, given the circumstances. What you do remember is his young, acne covered face contorted in unfamiliar anger that you've never seen before or since.

It might have frightened you more if it wasn't for the immense pain and loss you were feeling.

But yelling wasn't enough for him. He starts shaking you by the shoulders and demands why you were there in the first place. You were still crying, nothing but running snot and big, hot tears, but you managed to wail an answer, even if it wasn't the one he wanted.

Put me back, put me back. I'm supposed to be there. It hurts. Put me back.

The shaking stops, and so does the yelling. There's nothing but your loud, desperate sobs as you beg to walk back into the sea.

Without warning, he picked you up and began to make the trip home.

You started to thrash again, increasing loud "NO NO NO"s running out of your mouth as your soft, weak body tries to slip out, but his grip is iron. He only squeezes you tighter until you eventually tire.

You spend the rest of the trip shivering in his arms, finally able to feel the cold again.

When you arrive home, he ushers you into your room and tells you to change out of your sea-soaked clothes as he heads towards another part of the house.

You obey, more out of habit then anything else, your mind still numb. When you finish, you sit and wait until he comes and grabs you, taking you into your parent's room.

Mother was sitting up in bed.

Cillian placed you beside her, and for a strange, uncanny moment, you stare into her unblinking, dark eyes. It's all you can do.

This moment last so long, you think she has fallen into one of her stupors. But she blinks, and the spell is broken. With her same blank face, she pats the bed. You tentatively comply, taking your place next to her.

"Cillian has said you've been to the ocean. Is this true?"

Her voice is soft, sweet, slow, and so foreign on your ears.

You nod, refusing to look into her eyes again.

"Tell me, what was it like?"

Your little mouth twist into a grimace. Something deep in you tells your mind to keep silent.

Your brother steps in.

"They were going to drown, Ma! They said-"

"Hush, Cillian."

She didn't spare him a glance, eyes trained on you.

Her hand snakes over your face, her cold flesh cupping your face as she turns your head to face her. Her eyes burrow into yours, and you can't help but feel small and weak. You have no more will to resist.

"Why did you go down there?"

"It was calling me."

"What was?"

"The sea, it was singing to me. I needed to go to it. I couldn't help myself"

For the first time in your life, you saw your mother smile.

It was a disturbed smile. The kind that didn't reach her eyes, that looked more like bared teeth then a sincere display of joy.

"I knew it. Your father tried to hide it, but I knew the moment you were born. You're just like me."

She let you go, and without another word, laid down, with her back turned to her children.

The entire thing disturbed and confused you, and you immediately looked to Cillian for explanation and reassurance.

Instead, you saw him frozen, a look of terror on his face as he stared at Mother's form.

But then he caught your eye, schooled his features into something more neutral, and carried you out of the room, out of the house, and into the sheep pen, where you wordlessly helped him take care of the animals until your Father came home.

Father was much more laissez-faire about the whole ordeal. Cillian explained everything to him, nerves alight after Mothers declaration, and to your Fathers credit, he listened patiently, never once interrupting the younger boys nervous speech. When Cillian was done, Father turned to you, and in a disturbingly casual manner, explained to you that your mother had passed on her sickness to you.

When you asked when it would go away, he laughed until Cillian yelled at him to stop.

That was when you got the news that though it wasn't as potent as your mother's illness, it was still permanent. You would live and die with this affliction.

You stood there dumbly as your father idly ruffled your head and told you that there were worse things to have. You think he was about to tell you to get ready for bed before Cillian exploded on him.

It was obvious you had no place in the conversation anymore, and you tried to make your way to your room before Cillian snatched you and took you to his room, his face red with tears.

You slept in his bed that night.

The following day, you were no longer allowed to stay in the house and play like you usually did. Instead, Cillian made you follow him wherever he went, not letting you stray from his line of sight. When your father came home that following day, he brought with him a bell at Cillians' request, which you were made to wear at all times, even as you slept.

Slowly, more symptoms began to manifest. At times, your mind would fog over, unable to focus on anything for periods of time. The sound of waves would ring through your ear, though you were nowhere near the shore. And occasionally, dreams of the sea would haunt you. Beautiful, painful dreams that would leave you crying in your wake, which in turn woke up poor Cillian. But ever the loving brother, he would go to your side and sooth you until you fell asleep again. In the case of especially distressing dreams, he would sleep with you, and no nightmares would dare plague you when Cillian was with you.

And, on very rare instances, you would feel it again. That same tug that changed your world, that demanded you return to the ocean where you belong. Your mind would switch off, and your feet would move of their own accord towards the shore. But you would misstep, or trip, or some other mishap would occur, and the bell would ring. The spell would break just long enough for you to run back towards Cillian and tell him what was happening before you slipped away again. He'd take you in his arms and mutter soothing words, keeping you close until the episode passed.

But those were few, and grew fewer as you grew older. Most days, the worst of your symptoms were brain fog, which was not pleasant but much better than walking towards a cold death in the sea.

No, most days were rather enjoyable. You would wake up to Cillian making breakfast and wait to eat until he finished serving your mother, who only ate in her room. Then you would follow him around as he did his errands for the day, sometimes helping, sometimes busying yourself with your own task. If he got done early, he would read to you or help you with your writing. He used to try and help with your arithmetic, but it became obvious that he wasn't good enough with numbers to teach you. Then, if your mind was clear, you would help with dinner and sneak bites whenever Cillian wasn't looking. Dinner would then be ready, and Father would usually be home by then, give you both polite greetings, and then he would take two plates and make his way to his room to spend the rest of the evening with Mother, as you and your brother spent the evening with each other until bed.

True, there were times when it felt like you were being smothered by Cillian and his constant worry and argue that you didn't need the constant monitoring. Sometimes, these arguments would get the both of you irritated beyond reason with each other, having you both oscillating between petty bickering and the silent treatment.

But those were few and far in between. Most of that time was marked by the games you would play with him when you should have been working, by the silly songs he taught you when you got bored of watching him work, of the gentle coaxing he would give when your mind wandered from you. Those moments when he would take you into the field in the middle of the night and teach you about the constellations, or help you make flower crowns, which he would gladly wear until they withered and fell apart. Those days he'd grow morose about one of the many worries he had, and you would comfort him the only way a child like him could be comforted: hugging him until he felt better. Or those dark moments when you were reduced to tears by your despair at your illness, afraid that one day it would grow worse, and you would end up like your mother. He would hold you tight while crying himself and reassure you that it would never happen. And if it did, he would be there to care for you and keep you safe until the end if his days.

But this wasn't meant to last. As the years went by, Cillian was slowly coming into his adulthood and needed to find a way to make a living for himself. Father had talked to him about teaching him how to be a fisherman, but he wholeheartedly rejected the idea. Instead, he went to town and asked for an apprenticeship with the local carpenter.

The first few weeks, he brought you with him, claiming it still wasn't safe for you to stay at home without him.

Though you loathed the thought of being treated like an unruly toddler and not a child old enough to keep house by themself, the thought intrigued you. You couldn't remember the last time you got to see the village, and the mere thought caused butterflies in your stomach. New places, faces, sights, and smells... perhaps you would enjoy this.

Unfortunately, reality had different plans for you.

It became obvious that you and your brother were not welcome in the village. There was never any violent confrontation or hurtful words thrown your way, but instead a lack of interaction. The other children avoided your presence, and the villagers avoided you and your brothers gaze, only speaking to you when polite conduct forced them to. You could swear you heard them gossiping about you, talking about "cursed blood" and something to do with the sea, yet every time you came up to them, they would act like nothing was said.

The carpenter himself was much kinder, but his time was spent teaching your brother his craft, and you were left to your own devices, more lonely than ever.

After the first few days of begging, Cillian finally relented, and you stayed home with Mother.

The following weeks were painfully uneventful, with you taking over Cillians chores and adjusting to the new workload. Your brain fog made it difficult, causing complications, frustrations, and occasional minor injuries, which Cillian would fret over when he got home. Not that he needed those to worry, as every day he came home, he would rush through the house, his face frantic with worry. He only relaxed when he found you, and you reassured him that nothing had happened, and you were okay.

By the fourth week, you couldn't tell him that anymore, because Mother had begun taking trips outside of the house.

It was the middle of the day, and you were doing some cleaning around the house when the door to your parents' room creaked open, and Mother came out. You called out to her, but she ignored you, steadily making her way out the front door and towards the shore.

You trailed after her a safe distance away, unsure of what else to do. You were always slightly wary of her, as her presence was always a disquieting one in your home. But a vague sense of familial duty kept you from letting her wander unaccompanied.

When the shore finally came into your view, she was already on it, knelt down in the sand, in the company of an adult brown seal.

Upon this image, you felt it again. That pull towards the sea, weaker than before, but just as familiar. You tried to stop, but your feet began to move against your will. Terrified, you used the last of your free will to clench your fist, digging your nails into your palms until they punctured your skin. Only then, the spell broke, and you were able to run back home, uncaring of what would happen on the shore.

An hour or so later, she came back, a faint smile on her face as she lazily wandered back to her room.

Not long after, your brother came home, and you told him everything.

His face sunk further and further as you spoke, and when you finished, he looked like a man twice his age. He took your hand gently into his, and all but begged you not to follow her again.

"To lose Mother would be sad, to lose you would be unspeakable. I couldn't forgive myself if something happened to you."

He then made you promise to not tell Father anything that happened, and you readily agreed.

But then Mother went to visit the beach the next day. And then the next. And the day after, and the one after that, until it became common place. The visits also grew longer, to the point where you and Cillian were worried she wouldn't be home when Father returned from fishing.

That day didn't take long to come.

She had left. You had worked. Cillian came home. You both cooked dinner. Then Father came home, grabbed dinner for both him and Mother, and headed towards his room.

Then the plates shattered on the floor.

He rushed out with the eyes of a madman and interrogated the both of you on where Mother was. Cillian answered for the both of you, saying she had felt in good spirits and had gone on a walk. Your father lost it on him, struck him across the face, and let out a string of curses before marching out the front door, leaving Cillian on the floor and you crying in his wake.

You did your best to help nurse Cillians swelling face as he did his best to console your silent weeping.

Little time had passed before you heard Fathers stomping and yelling once again, with the stern voice of your Mother mixed in. You both quickly took shelter in Cillians room before they made it through the door.

The arguing continued as they went inside and into their rooms, the walls doing little to muffle their voices. It lasted for ten minutes, twenty, thirty, and then an hour, with no signs of stopping. You held onto your brother as you both tried to wait out the storm happening in your house until Cillian decided that enough was enough.

He gently nudged your shoulder, then looked towards his bedroom window, and then back down towards you.

"You want to leave?"

You practically jumped at the opportunity.

He climbed through the window before helping you down, taking your hand and leading you towards the field where the sheep grazed. It was summer, so the night was comfortably warm, a full moon lighting your way. Your bare feet carefully tread the grass, making sure not to step on any burs or briars hidden in the greenery.

He stopped at a small flower patch that the both of used to love lazing around in before he had to take his apprenticeship. Cowslips, wild garlic, and wood sorrels dotted the area. He laid down and looked towards the sky, and you followed his lead, laying down next to him.

"Do you remember any of the constellations I've taught you?"

"Of course!" You say, a little indignant. How could you forget those nights of stargazing?

You search the sky, easily finding a few.

"Lets see, there's Aquarius...Capricorn... and I think that one's Gemini?"

You point in the direction of the cluster of stars, and he brings his head closer to see where your fingers led.

"Yes, that's the one. You know, some people believe the stars control your fate. Something about being born in a certain time of year connects you to certain constellations, and they determine everything about your life, even when you die."

Your brows scrunched together in confusion. You knew you were pretty sheltered, only having your brother, your father, and various books for news of the outside world, but this seemed rather confusing.

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, I don't know too much about it myself. Some spinster stopped me in the street a few days back and asked me if I wanted my fortune read to me. I didn't know what she meant, so she explained to me how everything about our birth, when and where you were born, determines what will happen to you. She offered to tell me about mine if I paid her."

"And what did she say?"

"Nothing, her fees were too expensive, so I left."

"Boring."

He let out a chuckle. "Maybe."

The conversations then lapsed into silence, your eyes lazily gliding among the stars until he spoke again. His voice was hardly above a whisper.

"I wouldn't have asked for it, even if I had the money. Something about the whole thing didn't sit right with me. I mean, if your whole life is written out the moment you're born, what's the purpose of it all? All your struggles, all your accomplishments, completely meaningless. And those that are destined for a horrible life, what's the point in living, if it will only end in disaster?"

You turn over to look at him, his face almost imperceptible in the faint moon light as he stares up at the sky. His hands restlessly fidget with his sleeves as he starts talking again.

"No, I can't believe that. It's too cruel. Our feelings, our thoughts, our actions, they matter. We're more than our birth."

He turns to look at you, his eyes soft and a faint, an almost apologetic smile on his lips.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is, I know a better life seems impossible now, but it'll all be okay in the end. I promise."

You nod back with a smile. It's always been easy to believe the things your brother says, even if you know otherwise.

You both turn back up towards the sky, watching the stars until Cillian got up and told you it was time to head home.

The next morning, things only got worse.

It all started with you waking up in Cillians' bed, confused and disoriented, before remembering that you had refused to creep back to your own room, too afraid to run into your own parents.

Next, you noticed the sun was higher in the sky than it was usually when you woke up. Blearily, you realized you slept in late.

So you decided to wake your brother, still sleeping on the floor, and inform him of the situation. After a few minutes of calling his name, you finally decided to shake him awake. He grumpily protested the whole ordeal and was about to go back to bed until you informed him of the time.

He then threw off his thin blanket, sprang up off the floor, and opened to door with you following behind.

Until he stopped.

You peered from behind your brother and saw your father sitting at the table.

Shouldn't he be away by now?

He gave a smile to the both of you.

"Good morning, children. Why don't you take a seat? I've already prepared breakfast."

For a moment, Cillian didn't move, and neither did you. Briefly, you contemplated turning around and taking refuge in his room again, but then he started to cautiously make his way forward, and you reluctantly followed.

You and Cillian took the only two seats left, both located close to Father. You distantly wondered where Mothers chair had gone.

Your brother started to place food on his plate, and you grabbed a slice of buttered bread, immediately taking a bite out of it. The sooner you could leave the table, the better.

Father grabbed nothing. He simply watched the both of you, the same smile from before still plastered on his face.

It was only now that you could make out the dark circles under his eyes and his unkempt hair. You could also see he was still wearing the same work clothes from yesterday. You don't think he slept a wink.

After a tense, quiet moment of watching the both of you eat, he turned towards your brother and began to speak.

"Cillian, my boy, are you still going into town today?"

He avoided his gaze as he replied.

"Yes, sir. I can't afford to skip any lessons."

"But you're already late. Surely, you couldn't do any more harm by skipping today?"

"I can't, sir. It would be disrespectful to miss an entire day without reason."

"I expected as much. I suppose it can't be helped."

Father gave a thoughtful hum before turning towards you.

"Well, I guess that leaves you, then."

You froze as your heart rate picked up. You briefly caught Cillians eyes, and saw your own panic reflected back.

Father continued on, like he hadn't noticed.

"I need to ask a favor of you. Your mother has been getting worse, as the both of you seem to know already."

He pointedly shot your brother a look before returning his gaze to you.

"And she needs her rest. Unfortunately, she does not want to rest. That's why I've taken it upon myself to make sure she does."

He gestured over towards the door of the room Mother lay, and you saw the missing chair propped up securely against the knob.

"All you need to do is make sure she stays inside. Don't let her out for anything. Not for food, or water, or even the bathroom. No matter what she says or does, you do not open that door."

He then reached out and placed a large, cold, and loose hand on your shoulder. It took everything in you not to shake it off.

"Am I understood?"

You nodded rapidly. "Yes, Father."

His smile grew wider and he gave your shoulder a pat before retracting his arm.

"Good. Because if she isn't in there when I come back, I will be very disappointed."

With that, he slapped his legs before pushing himself off the chair.

"Well, I'd best be off now. Take care, I'll be back as soon as I can."

He grabbed his coat, put on his shoes, and headed out the door.

After the sound of his footsteps subsided, you quietly got up and headed towards your parents' door.

Your hand had only come to touch the chair before Cillian grabbed you and pulled you away.

You wrestled out of his grip and turned to face him before his hands landed on your shoulders as he gave you a slight shake, his hands warm and unmovable.

"What do you think you're doing?" He hissed.

"What do you think you're doing?" You countered.

"Keeping you from making a mistake. Did you not listen to Father at all?"

"I did, and that's exactly why I'm doing it. You know this can't be right, Cillian, he can't keep her locked up."

"Of course this is awful, that isn't the point." He spat out.

You recoiled as far back as his hold would allow.

That seemed to make him pause he decided to close his eyes and take a deep breath, his features softening a touch. His voice was less harsh, but just as urgent as he spoke again.

"I know you don't want to be a part of this. I don't, either. But we don't have a choice here. With Father becoming more... unpredictable, it's better to play along with whatever he wants. Just until I can save enough money to get us out of here, okay?"

"But what about Mother?"

"I don't care about Mother, I care about you. Your safety goes above everything else."

You turn away, your eyes growing wet.

"I don't like it."

"You don't have to like it, you just have to listen."

You wipe your eyes. He lets out a sigh and loosens his grip.

"Why don't you stay out of the house for today? Focus on tending to the sheep and chickens, or tend to the garden, or whatever you want. It'll be easier on you if you don't have to hear her, okay?"

You didn't move.

"(Y/N), please, look at me." He said quietly.

Against your better judgment, you did.

His face was fallen, his eyes starting to water like yours were. An unwilling feeling of guilt formed in your heart.

"Promise me you won't let Mother out." He pleaded.

You nodded, even though the thought of going along this made you sick.

He gave you a genuine smile.

"Thank you."

Cillian left soon after, and you tittered about in the house, trying to keep yourself busy. You thought about going outside the house and focusing on taking care of the animals like he suggested, but your guilt wouldn't allow you to leave Mother.

You had quickly come to regret that decision as not even an hour after Cillians departure, Mother tried to open the door.

Simple attempts at opening the door had rapidly grown more frantic until she was pounding on the wood. The sound encompassed the whole house, and you could only stand and stare like a trapped animal, torn between your duty to your mother and your duty to your brother.

And then she stopped.

And the whole house was quiet.

For some reason, you found the silence profoundly more disturbing than her hysterical attempts to break the door, and you half longed to hear them again.

As you debated calling out to her, the silence was broken by the sound of glass shattering.

The only glass in the room was her window.

You rushed out of the front door and ran around the side of the house to where the window was, only to see her exiting through where the glass used to be. He dress was torn, and her arms and legs were covered in minor cuts that dotted her in red.

"Mother!" You shout. "Are you okay-"

She turned towards you, came to an abrupt halt, and stared.

Her dark, dead eyes bore into you, leaving a weight on your chest you had never felt before. She knows, you thought. You didn't know what she knew or if there was anything to know, but it was the only thought in your head as she looked at you. She knows. And it made you wither before her.

She turned away and headed towards the tool shed. You followed her at a distance.

She emerged from the shed with a shovel and walked towards a small group of trees, of which she stopped in front of the old, brittle husk of what used to be a mighty oak.

And she started to dig.

It was obvious she was struggling. She had done little manual labor in her life, mostly content with wasting away in her room most days, so she had little muscle. She huffed and puffed, and even as far away as you were, you could see her arms shake with every shovel full of dirt. A foot into the ground, and you could see her hands start to bleed, the delicate skin tearing against the rough wood of the shovel.

But her face had stayed just as determined as it had been when she started, and her pace never slowed. As you watched, you could swear that not even hell could stop her.

You stood there and watched her toil knee-deep in the dirt, wondering what could drive such a woman to go to these lengths when you heard the sound of metal hitting metal.

With frantic movements, she began to shovel faster, then abandoned the tool altogether and desperately clawed at the dirt with her fingers.

Then she began to pull.

One tug. Then another. And another.

And then one final tug, and it was free. She staggered back, a metal box as big as her chest held firmly in her hands.

She wasted no time throwing it to the ground and undoing the latches that held it closed.

She took out something and stared at it for a moment before carelessly tossing it to the side. Out of her grasp, you could see it was a fur of some sort. Though you couldn't tell what animal it belonged to, you could see that it was rather plain looking, definitely not worth burying like it was some valuable treasure.

Yet why did it seem to tug at your heart, trying to draw you closer?

Your attention was torn from the fur as the sound of crying filled the air.

It came from Mother, now hunched over a larger, more beautiful fur, her face buried deep as he let out more heart-wrenching sobs. It was the most emotion you've ever seen from her.

You felt like a voyeur. This moment wasn't for you, yet you couldn't leave, transfixed by such both the fur and Mother.

It took moments for the crying to subside, at which point she slowly got to her legs, and she draped the fur over her shoulders like an oversized shawl.

It was like this you could see it better. It was white, and the fur sparkled in the sun like a jewel. It was also obvious that this was the fur of an adult seal.

Her head turned towards you, and you held her gaze, only for a moment, before she turned away and walked towards the direction of the sea.

As she made her past the horizon and beyond your line of sight, she didn't once turn back to look at you.

And you were glad she didn't.

You didn't know how long you spent watching her leave. Even after she disappeared from your sight, you still watched the last spot you saw her. You knew she wouldn't come back, and you hoped she wouldn't either, but that didn't stop the expectancy from growing inside you. There was more coming, and you just didn't know what it was or where it would come from.

Eventually, your mind snapped back to the present, and you became aware of your surroundings again. The sun had climbed quite a ways across the sky, telling you it was afternoon now.

With little else to do, you made your way to the discarded fur.

The closer you got, the more your heart trembled in your chest, and your skin itched in anticipation. It was so similar to the way the sea called to you, but more intense, and completely irresistible.

When you finally knelt down and grasped it, the world melted away along with the fog around your brain, and your mind gained a sense of clarity and sharpness you had never experienced before. And a beautiful, overwhelming feeling of completeness washed over you, like this fur was a long lost part of you, and you were finally, blissfully whole again.

This is what Mother felt when she touched her fur, wasn't it? It must be, because you started to to cry just like she did, face buried in your fur- no, a small voice in your mind said, your lost skin, as you tried to take it all in.

What relief, what clarity, what pain it is to be complete again. Who knew such an immense joy could bring so much hurt?

You only stopped crying when you heard a yell in the distance.

"(Y/N)! WHERE'S YOUR MOTHER?"

It was Fathers voice.

You whip your head to see the figure of your father coming towards you, only to stop as your body twisted towards his, revealing your second skin bundled in your arms.

His shocked expression quickly twisted to something dark, ugly, and angry.

He started walking towards you again, his movements similar to the confident prowl of a wolf coming across a stray lamb, far away from the safety of the herd.

And you felt your heart kick up, exactly like a lamb's would.

Without further thought, you draped your skin across your shoulders like Mother had, scrambled towards your feet, and sprinted away.

Father's heavy footsteps followed.

Past the sheep fields, beyond your property, from well trodden footpaths to completely untamed land, you dashed across the land with your father steady in pursuit, unable to escape his sight.

You didn't realize you were headed towards the ocean until you saw the sand of the beach and the deep blue of the sea.

Logically, you knew that the beach was a dead end. There was nothing there to help you down there, and you couldn't swim. But something inside you urged you forward, saying you would be free, if only you could reach the water, and after everything that happened today, you were inclined to trust it.

As your feet hit the sand, Father began to shout, all threats and insults.

When your skin met the sea, the sharpness in his voice disappeared, replaced with a desperation so unbecoming of a man once to confident.

When you were up to your waist in the salt water, and the rolling waves threatened threatened to knock you off your feet and sweep you out to sea, your father started to plead. To beg you to come out of the water and help him find Mother. He had momentarily lost his temper, he didn't mean to frighten you so. He's not mad any more, he's sorry, and only wishes you could come out and tell him where Mother went. To help him figure out a way to find her and to bring her home. If only you would get out of the water.

You didn't bother to look back.

You dove into the rolling waves, and something fantastical overcame your body.

Your clothes fell away from your body, and your seal skin filled with a strange energy, latching onto your human skin and merging until they were one. Your arms shrunk into flippers with dull claws, and your legs and feet merged into a sleek, powerful tail. Blubber formed around your body and neck, and nestled you in warmth. Your hair receded, and your head shrunk, with your nose and mouth forming the short snout of a seal.

Soon, you were darting through the water, further and further away from the cries of your father, and deeper into the blue.

You swam so far and for so long that when you finally came to the surface to breathe, you could no longer see the shore, with no recollection of which direction you came from. All round you was nothing but a yawning stretch of unbroken blue.

The sun had finally set, transforming the water into the same inky darkness of the sky, and you had still not found your way back to land.

You had tried to head back in the direction you thought you had come from, only to find nothing. So you tried another direction, then another, and another, only to wind up more lost than before.

Frustrated, you had given up for a time and decided to explore what lay under the sea, both in childish curiosity of what the world was like under the water and in foolish hope that you would find your mother, and she could guide you back.

Instead, you found dozens upon dozens of colorful fish and bizarre plants that you could scarcely dream of. You would follow these alien creatures as they scuttled and swam about with a sense of whimsy and awe, captivated by their strangeness. It was the most fun you had in a very long time. If only land could have creatures like this, it would be a much more beautiful place.

But soon, you had lost yourself in your exploration, just like you had lost yourself in the sea. When you finally stopped and resurfaced, the sky and sea had darkened, to the point you could hardly tell which was which.

It was only then you felt the effects of being at sea for so long. Though your blubber did much to keep you warm, the sea was always cold, and a chill had crept deep into your skin. Your stomach gnawed in hunger, and a great weariness started to overtake you. How much longer could you keep swimming?

You grew panicked, head whipping around in despair as you tried to find something, anything to lead you home.

In confusion and fear, you turned your head towards the sky, and it was there you found your answer.

The north star.

It was the first thing your brother had taught you when he took you stargazing. He would still quiz you on it every once in a while, just to make sure you remembered how to find it.

You can still hear his voice like it was yesterday.

"As long as you can find the north star, you can always find your way home."

A renewed feeling of energy washed over you, filling your weary body with resolve, and you pushed yourself towards home.

On and on, you fought against the choppy waves trying to push against your own struggling body and pull you further into the ocean, with nothing but thoughts of home to push you forward.

But after an unknown amount of time, you came across not the shore, but there, upon the horizon, the silhouette of a man upon a fishing boat, harpoon raised, as sharks circled him... no, those weren't sharks.

They were seals.

And that man you your father.

You abandoned your current course to swim closer, trying to understand what was happening.

As you crept up on the ship, you finally heard Fathers shouting over the rough waves.

"DAMN ANIMALS!" His voice was venom.

"WHERE IS SHE? I KNOW YOU HAVE HER! WHERE IS MY WIFE?!"

The seals began to nudge the boat, throwing him momentarily off balance. However, he quickly gained his composure.

"MY LOVE, COME BACK TO ME!"

There was no response.

"I'LL DRAG YOU BACK, ONE WAY OR THE OTHER, AND I'LL KILL WHATEVER BEAST GETS IN MY WAY!"

He regained his footing and raised his harpoon as if to attack, his face alight with manic anger.

But beyond his sight, you saw a beautiful white seal barrel towards the side of his boat, with no sign of stopping. In a flash, her body collided with the wood, and the ship was overturned, throwing Father into the dark sea before he could scream.

It was only a moment before he resurfaced, harpoon gone, struggling to keep his head above water.

"DON'T, PLEASE-"

A seal broke off from the circling pack, bit down on his leg, and dragged him down, disappearing beneath the surface. You tensed, afraid that the seal hadn't let him go, but he broke through the waves in a manner of seconds, choking on salt water.

He struggled against the current, coughing his lung out as he tried to make his way towards his capsized ship.

Then another seal did the same, taking him underwater but holding him down just a little longer. When Father resurfaced, he began to exclaim in fear, begging for mercy, and then for Mother, before he was dragged back down again into the inky abyss.

And then it happened again.

And again.

You caught sight of the same white seal who had brought this fate upon him. She had positioned herself slightly away from the rest of the herd, content to watch from afar. Perhaps she thought her part over, or perhaps she was merely waiting for her turn again.

Slowly, she turned her head towards you, as if she knew you were here all along.

She didn't say a word as she looked at you, but you knew what she was trying to tell you.

You don't belong here.

And perhaps she was right.

You turned away from the brutality happening in front of you, and found the north star again. With your bearings, you continued your journey home.

When the shore finally came out of the horizon, you could have jumped for joy. You pushed your tired fins to the max, wanting nothing more than to finally return to land.

As you came closer, you could make out the dark figure of another person, frantically walking along the shore line, calling out to the sea.

"(Y/N)! (Y/N)! IS THAT YOU?!"

It was Cillian.

You felt such a sense of relief upon seeing him, you could cry.

You tried to call out to him, but it only came out in the strange barks of a seal.

He ran towards the water, only stopping as it reached his waist, your abandoned clothes clutched it his hands as he continued to shout your name like a madman.

You pushed and pushed, willing your aching body to go faster and faster until you were upon him. His arms were held wide, and you leaped into them as he caught you with ease.

Then that strange, magical sensation happened again.

Your skin warped and twisted, growing and then separating itself into two, your seal skin wrapping around you like a robe. Your tail and fins turned back into arms and legs, with the rest of your body following suit. All the while, Cillian still held you, red rimmed eyes in awe over what he saw.

And just like that, you were human again.

He took your face in his hands, one cupping your cheek as the other stroked your hair ever so gently. His hands were cold from being out for so long, and they shook slightly, whether from adrenaline or exhaustion, you couldn't tell. Yet you found yourself leaning into them anyway.

His face was red, and his eyes were wet and puffy. His chin wobbled as much as his voice, unable to contain his emotion.

"I thought you were gone. I came home, and you weren't there, and I couldn't find anyone. I looked everywhere, and when I found your clothes, oh God, I thought I would never see you again. I thought I would be alone."

His voice broke down into wordless sobs, his hands letting your face go only to wrap you into a crushing embrace. You found yourself beginning to cry with him.

"I'm here now." You told him, your own voice faltering from your tears. "It's okay, I'm here."

His sobbing only picked up, sounding like those rare occasions when he cried as a child.

"Oh, my baby. Thank God, thank God."

You stood there, held fast in his arms, as the ocean waves pushed against the both of you, sapping the warmth out of your body, but you couldn't bother to care. You thought you could stay like that forever, safe and sound in his hold.

But his hold began to loosen, and he looked down at you, face haggard and tired.

"Let's go home."

You nodded and took his hand as he led you out of the sea and towards land. But you felt like your body was made of lead, and you kept stumbling, almost falling back into the water. That's when Cillian decided to pick you up, arms under your knees and back in a princess style hold. You didn't protest, exhaustion leaving you too weak to reasonably object. Instead, you lay your head on his shoulder, arms securely holding your second skin around your body, as he took you out of the water.

As you exited the beach, the cold had finally caught up with you, and you began to shiver violently.

Cillian looked down at you, face pinched in concern, before focusing back on the path ahead, picking up his pace.

"I know, I know. We'll be home soon. We'll get you dressed in dry clothes, and I'll get a fire going, and you'll be warm before you know it. Just hang on."

You nodded, pressing yourself further against him, trying to share his body heat.

The journey dragged, the cool night temperatures making your symptoms worse. With each breeze, your shivering would pick up, and he would hold you tighter, as if he could solve the problem by only keeping you closer.

By the time you made it home, your fingers, toes, and nose were numb.

He tried to set you down carefully in front of your room, but his shaking, tired arms had you plopped on the ground more roughly then he intended, leading to him profusely apologizing and checking if you were okay.

You looked up to him and saw the way his fatigue wore on him, from the droopiness of his eyes to the sag of his shoulders and the way his wet clothes hung off of him. You wish he wouldn't apologize so much.

"Change into something warm, and I'll get the fire going, alright?"

You nodded and then went in your room to change, clumsily slipping on your normal nightwear. Still shivering, you then grabbed the blanket off your bed and bundled yourself with it before taking your wet seal skin and walking out of your room.

When you went back to the living room, Cillian was in dry clothes kneeling next to the fireplace, having finished loading the logs into the chimney. With a few strikes of the fire steel, a small fire began to grow on the wood, bringing a welcome heat with it.

You carefully hung up your second skin near the fireplace so it could dry and then sat down next to your brother, watching as he tended to the small flame, making certain it wouldn't go out. After a few minutes of carefully feeding it small, dry branches, it had taken to the bigger logs and grown to a healthy size. With a noise of contentment, he pulled the metal screen over the fireplace opening and leaned back, a drained expression falling on his face as he took a moment to soak in the heat.

Then he turned to you with a small smile.

"Feeling better?"

You nodded, your shivering having gone down some.

"But I'm still cold."

He opened his arms and waved you over. You didn't hesitate to go to them, taking your blanket and wrapping it over his body as well as yours as he wrapped his arms around you. Your head leaned against his shoulder, and his chin rested on your head.

And for a while, no one spoke. You sat snug in his hold, the warmth of the fire, the reassuring weight of his arms, and the steady rise and fall of Cillians chest, you were easily lulled into a state of half consciousness, bringing you a sense of peace.

But then your brothers voice, rough and low, spoke.

"Why did you leave?"

It took you a moment to process the question, mind fuzzy and slow from your exhaustion.

"Father was chasing me. I didn't know where else to go."

"You didn't have to stay gone for so long. You knew I would be home soon."

"I got lost."

With those words, his chest hitched, like he couldn't breathe. You hastily tried to reassure him.

"But when night fell, I used the north star to guide me home, just like you taught me. It all turned out okay in the end."

He shifted, his hold growing tighter.

"Don't you realise how lucky you were? If the sky had been overcast and you couldn't see the stars, what would you have done? How long would you have lasted at sea without its guidance? What if you had swam into a shark, or God forbid, a fisherman..."

His arms grew suffocating, to the point of pain.

"Cillian, please." You whimpered.

His grip immediately loosened, and he looked down on you, apologies spilling from his mouth once more.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, it just- it scares me. You scare me. And I hate how frightened you make me. You can't go back there, (Y/N)."

What could you say? You felt guilty about making him so upset, but you couldn't promise to not return to the ocean, either. Yes, your first trip in the water was terrifying, but it was also freeing and beautiful. You wouldn't feel complete without being able to go there again.

You chose to stay silent.

He pressed you gently back into his chest and began softly rocking you, one hand around you and the other carding through your hair.

Eventually, you drifted off, the soft crackle of the fire and the gentle sway of Cillian's hold following you into your dreams.

The next thing you know, you're swaddled in your bed, sunshine streaming through your windows.

It takes you a while to get up, the ordeals from yesterday still weighing heavy on your body. But eventually, hunger pangs form in your stomach, and you force yourself to leave the safety of the blankets to get food.

With your blanket wrapped around your body like a cloak, you slowly shuffle out of your room and towards the kitchen. You dully make note of how high the sun is, meaning you had slept well into the afternoon. You hope Cillian let the animals out before he left.

Once in the kitchen, you cut a slice of bread and stand there, chewing on it slowly, eyes half lidded as not one thought crosses your mind.

Then it hits you, a delayed wave of dread washing over you.

Your skin.

You had left it near the fireplace, right? You were fairly certain of it being wet, and you had wanted it to dry. Therefore, near the fireplace was the most logical place.

Uncertainly, you take the few steps it takes to get to the living room, and can find no sign of it.

But you remember putting it here. At least, you think you remember.

It occurs to you that, upon separation from your skin, that mental acuity you had gained from it was now lost once again, and your brain fog has rolled back in with a vengeance.

You look around the fireplace, turning over baskets and boxes and whatever gets in your way, before expanding your search to the living room, then the kitchen, then your room. You even dared to look through your parents' room and Cillians room for no other excuse than your rising panic at not being able to find that vital, beloved part of yourself.

All higher reason left you as you left your house to trace back your journey from the beach on the wild belief that you could have dropped your skin, despite knowing that it had stayed wrapped around your body the entire time.

The further into your walk, the more the pit in your stomach grew, climbing its way into your throat until you threatened to choke on it, tears leaking from your eyes all the while.

It was only upon not being able to find the skin anywhere on the beach that you collapsed down on the sand, your wailing a companion to the roaring of the waves.

It was there Cillian found poor you, face a red, blotchy mess of snot and tears. He knelt beside you, out of breath from running to find you. He tried his best to calm you down despite looking panicked himself, but you had worked yourself into an unmanageable state.

After a desperate few minutes, you had slowed down just enough to wail out, "I can't find my skin."

His mouth formed a grim line, face becoming unreadable. Without another word, he picked you up and carried you home once more.

You didn't bother fighting it, only continuing to cry until it tapered off to pathetic little whimpers, and then total silence.

You barely registered that you were home, that Cillian had placed you upon the floor, near the dwindling fire where you collapsed. You stared into the small flame, not being able to comprehend anything. The world had become too much, weighing heavy on your mind and body to the point that you didn't have a will to care about much anymore. Except, of course, for one thing.

After an unknown time, Cillian sat down next to you, apple in hand. He made a gesture as if offering you the food, but there was only one response on your lips.

"Do you know where my skin is?"

He turned away from you and faced the fire again, taking a bite of the fruit, and you stared at him as he chewed. Chewed, chewed, chewed, and then swallowed it all down.

He nodded.

"Yes, I know where it is."

You felt your eyes light up, a surge of hope coursing through your body.

"Where is it?!"

He didn't turn to look at you. His face didn't even so much as twitch.

"Cillian, please, where is it? Where's my skin?"

"It's somewhere safe."

"That's isn't an answer." A heat began to form in your voice. "Where is it?"

"What are you going to do with it, when you get it again?"

The question took you off guard, making you sputter for a moment.

"What do you mean?"

"Are you going to try and leave again?"

Your patience gave way to your anger.

"I didn't leave you, I was trying to run away from our crazy Father, who would have done God knows what to me if he caught me. And I didn't want to be stuck out at sea for hours on end! And I came home, didn't I? I want to be here, why isn't that enough for you?!"

His finally turned towards you, face twisted and sharp.

"You came back this time." He spat. "But what about the next? What's to keep you from deciding to stay in the sea if I can't be there to stop you? Just look at you! A day hasn't even passed, and you're already running back towards that accursed beach."

Heat rose in your cheeks, and your voice rose.

"And so you steal from me? You take a part of myself and hide it from me? How dare you! How dare you do what Father did!"

The veins in his head began to pop up at your words.

"I'm nothing like him, Father was a monster!"

"Then prove it! Give me back my skin!"

He stared at you, eyes wild, huffing like he had just run across the property. You held his gaze, just as angry and stubborn, unwillingly to back down.

He jolted up, then stalked across the floor and exited the house with a slam of the door.

You could only look after him in silence.

After Cillian left, you had slunk off to your bed, not knowing what else to do except to lie down and wait.

Eventually, you fell into a fitful sleep, not even able to find reprieve in your dreams, where you saw your mother taking your skin and running as you desperately tried to catch up to her. But no matter how fast you ran, or how hard you pushed yourself, you fell further and further behind until she was nothing more than a speck in the distance.

A hand came to rest on your head, and you jolted awake with a start, heart racing and eyes wide and unseeing, until a voice called out to you.

"It's okay, (Y/N), it's okay, it's only me, Cillian. Calm down, you're safe."

In a few short seconds, your eyes focused on the figure sitting on the edge of your bed in front of you, and it was indeed your brother, face composed in a reassuring smile.

You took in your surroundings, noticing it had gone completely dark, with only a candle placed on your nightstand to offer any light. There was no sign of your skin.

"I didn't mean to scare you, I just wanted to wake you up. It looked like you were having a nightmare."

You slumped back in your bed, and frown easily forming on your face.

"I was." Is your meager reply.

"I'm sorry about that. Do you want to talk about it?"

You look away from him, frown deepening.

He sighed. "You're still mad at me, aren't you?"

Silence.

"The first time you wandered off, trying to return to the beach, Father had taken me aside, and told me a story of a young, lonely fisherman who had come upon a beautiful, naked lady dancing on the beach. The fisherman had become enchanted with this strange woman, believing to have fallen in love at first sight. After having watched her for some time, he came to spot a stark white seal skin near the lady. It was then he figured out that the woman was not a human, but a selkie, a mythical creature with the ability to change their form from seal to human. He knew he had to have her and crept closer and closer, until he was able to snatch the skin away. She pleaded for it's return, offering anything to have it back. He had said he would, but only on the condition she became his wife. She relented, not having another choice. Of course, Father had then revealed that this was the story of how he met Mother."

You sat there, staring at him in shock.

"You knew that Mother and I were selkies, and you said nothing?"

"No, that's not it. I didn't believe a word of what he said, I thought it was the delusions of a sad man trying to find a reason for why his wife was so ill. I didn't start thinking of the story until Mother went visiting the beach, and even then, I wasn't sure until I saw you transform in front of my very eyes."

He sighed once more.

"But that wasn't all. Father had said that though I was human, you were a selkie, and that he had taken your skin as soon as you were born and hidden it away with Mothers. He believed that if you never had the chance to transform, the illness from Mother would lessen, and eventually, you would turn human. I thought he was mad, but now that I am able to think... he was right, wasn't he?"

You felt your heart drop to your stomach.

"Your illness wasn't as severe as Mothers. You were able to live normally for the most part. Sure, you couldn't always focus, and your mind would wander, but it was getting better, wasn't it? In a few more years, you might have turned human. Unfortunately, Mother stopped that from happening, but it can be done again."

He placed a hand on your shoulder, cold and iron tight, with a sickening smile stretched on his face.

"You'll be rid of this disease, and you can be human, like you were meant to. And I'll be here to take care of you until it happens."

You couldn't speak, couldn't move, could scarcely breathe. You could have cried, but all the tears and anger had left you earlier that day, leaving you to mutely stare at your brother, your only family, the only one you trusted, who you thought would protect you from the horrors of the world you lived in, in a complete and all consuming horror you have never felt in your life.

A moment passed, and you managed to find your words once again.

"Cillian." Your voice is quiet. A gentle breeze could drown it out.

"Cillian," you try again, "please. Where is my skin?"

His face falls and shoulders sag in disappointment.

"I know it will take you a long time to adjust, but I promise, this is for the best."

You shake your head, but he only brings you in for a hug, holding you gently as if you would shatter at a moments notice. You have no energy to fight back.

"Please. Give me back my skin."

He only shushes you, rubbing circles into your back as you continue to plead for the only thing that could make you feel whole again. You stay there until your voice goes silent, your body slack, and your eyes shut. Until you fall asleep in the arms of your brother, under the roof of your father, and under the stars that sit unmoving and unforgiving in the darkness of the night sky.

Brain it's 5am let me fucki g sleep

Sooo you know all those Amity was displaced into the DC universe when returned after Pariah's defeat aus? What if that happened but alittle more extreme?

What if when it returned, Amity was in the middle of the ocean?

Danny is a protection spirit, one with a huge heart and completely OP even by the time he fights Pariah. He's going to do something drastic the split second that he realizes Amity is in the ocean and it is Sinking. The land that had been transported with the town is breaking apart. Buildings are crumbling and people are panicking.

His People are screaming to be helped.

So he does. He dives under Amity and channeling his still developing Ice/space Core creates a pillar of Never Melt Ice from the Sea Floor to Amity, cradling the floating town and filling the cracks. Only to do this, to keep his town safe, Danny is in the center of the Pillar.

And well there are Consequences to this, for one Danny's Core is in fluctuation between settling as an Ice Core or as a Space Core. Thus the Land and the People are changed, their Protector sacrificed himself to become their City/Island essentially. His Core Shattering and Reforming a second time with this Sacrifice, though the Reforming is taking time. During that time, Amity has become basically the Center of Bermuda Triangle in the DC universe. Space and Time warped around the partially Frozen island. The inhabitants changed by their extreme contamination from their Heros Sacrifice and the Ghost Zone, as well as becoming Eternal Beings. Amity is now a Frozen kingdom of Ice and Stars.

And is only discovered by the JL due to their Creator finally Reforming, thus the turbulent connection to their new reality has Stabilized.

For the Athenide Twins AU: I think having Poseidon as a father, with the all-encompassing, unconditional parental love this god is known for, would shake Annabeth to the core.

Okay but the dynamic between the Twins would be so interesting though

Annabeth would be all "the fuck you looking at?!" when it comes to gods and their wondering awooga eyes because, and bless her, Percy is so oblivious when it comes to romantic interests like half the camp was falling head over heals to impress her and the other half had a bi/lesbian awakening and Percy didn't notice but when it comes to Athena? Poseidon? Percy would be the main speaker, the shield for Annabeth, the rip rap to protect the cove. For Percy, Annabeth is the scary dog privilege around all the gods but their parents.

Percy, would be her usual self but with her loyalty and protectiveness all focused on Annabeth. Oh some god is trying to flirt with Annabeth? yeah, she's going to stab him. No worries. But if they're around Athena and Poseidon?

Annabeth has had no positive parental figures outside of Sally Jackson and Chiron (Paul gets an honorary mention) and has no idea how to navigate the parental minefield that she is in. Percy knows how to navigate messy family drama (thanks smelly gabe) and so will always throw herself in front of Annabeth to shield her from anything remotely similar to gabe or the Chase's

Poseidon canonically loves his kids. He ruined Odysseus' life over one of his sons injury. If you give him the Twins, if you tell him Arsinoe and Perse are his, and that they are terrified of him, that they are expecting him to treat them like Zeus treats his children? And that his daughters prepared and decided who among them was to protect the other? His heart will shatter.

Poseidon would gift Arsinoe literally everything until he finds out she likes architecture and then he will make her the official architect and literally do anything to make her smile as brightly as she did when she saw Atlantis for the first time.

Amphitrite would be soooo happy to have double the seal pups to spoil.

Triton would be upset at the Pallas look alike but then he sees his younger sisters spar and he's determined to not let either of them fall to a spear.

Kym, Rhodes, and Ben already outnumbered their father and Triton, but now they have two more sisters?

Athena would have no idea what to do. She faintly remembers her mother, other mothers that she could look up too have either really bad relationships with their daughters, or they were kidnapped from them, or just don't seem like the type of relationship Athena wants to have with her girls. She wants to know why Perse is so protective over Arsinoe around her. She wants to know why Arsinoe looks at Poseidon like she's about to cry from happiness every time he asks her if she want's to design a temple

all in all, lots of angst potential

I find this oddly sweet.

hi, can I request a plus size reader who keeps running away from könig bc she thinks she's undesirable but the chase just makes könig get turned on ever more? and he finally dominate her, breeding her full and a lil dub con would be nice.

sorry if's too much and sorry the English, it's my 2nd language. btw big ass fan of your writing :(

plus size!reader who thinks she’s undesirable despite the affection her big boyfriend showers her in :(( nowt wrong with your english, pet. and i’m a big arse fan of you 🫵🏻 :3

mdni. slight dub-con, cat and mouse pursuit, obsessive/yandere themes, in public, no foreplay :(, praise, sappy and sloppy, dom x sub, shy!reader, down-bad könig, very big-dicked könig :((, belly bulge, breeding kink, creampie !! not proofread </3

creds to the original creator of this image, whoever ya are ((:

you’re not sure how long you’ve been walking aimlessly, lost in thought. you just don’t feel good enough for him. he’s so beautiful — perfect in every aspect of whatever ‘perfect’ equates to. you’d bagged the austrian war machine somehow, at some point. he’d approached you in a club, noticing you alone and nursing the same drink since you’d arrived, stirring the liquor with an olive-speared cocktail stick. the rest is history.

but you just can’t wrap your head around the fact that he’s yours. you’re in love the fact that you’re his. but why is he so content with you? he should be with a woman of athletic stature, like him. right? you’ve asked him before, and every time he tells you, “you think too much, schatz. i love you the way you are. i do not care for shape or size.”

and könig would remind you that he’s no arnold schwarzenegger or apollo creed himself. he has thick, meaty thighs and bulky shoulders — almost too wide for his body. he has firm fat on his pectorals that jiggle when he walks, like yours. his stomach folds when he sits down and bends over, quite chubby in the lower region where his pubic bone extends. his biceps aren’t defined or ripped, but more beefy with a little squidge if you pinch them.

and he doesn’t give a flying fuck. in fact, he’ll care when fucks can fly. he doesn’t understand why you’re so conscious of your appearance. könig worships your body. he’ll touch you whenever the opportunity strikes, hands cupping, massaging, rubbing, stroking, resting as soon as the chance presents itself. but you just can’t accept that his admirations and reassurances are genuine. he’s too good for you. he should be with someone who is confident and self-assured. someone who’s willing to give themselves to him sexually.

it’s your own low opinion of yourself that’s holding back the intimate domains of your relationship; in the sense that you’ve not had sex yet. again, könig doesn’t care. he’ll wait for you. he’ll wait until fucks fly (preferably the fuck you give about your weight), but he understands it’s a deep and meaningful forte.

and great, now you don’t know where you are. you stop in your tracks, glancing around at your surroundings. you’re losing light as the setting sun kisses the horizon, the silhouette of distant trees skimming the pinkish clouds. you pull your phone from your pocket — he’s been blowing it up. fifty messages at least. you could backtrack, you guess. but then you’d have to face him. you’ve done this before, left your shared home. he finds you every time, but he’s never mad. only ever concerned and self-deprecating, rambling that he should be better.

so you keep walking, fingers kneading at your tummy as you do. your lower belly moves independently from your physique with the low incline of your stride — but only slightly. no one else would notice, not that they’d be looking. but you always notice, and it makes you feel like you matter a little less. you’re walking away from the one person who makes you feel like you belong. who lets you know that you have every right to feel comfortable in your own skin. but he shouldn’t have to, because he should be with someone prettier. someone skinnier.

your phone rings then, a selfie of you and könig displaying as his caller id shows on the screen. you swallow, still wandering like a headless chicken towards the treeline up ahead. “hey.” you answer, twigs snapping beneath your feet once you reach the woods. “why are you doing this again, mein liebe?” his voice is soft and inquisitive. he’s so patient with you. “i’m sorry.” you sniffle, emotions finally getting to you. “i can’t give you what you want.”

“and what is it i want that you think you can’t give me?” he asks you, his signal slightly distorted. it sounds like he’s outside too, probably looking for you. you don’t answer his question, holding the phone to your ear as you walk in silence. leaves rustle beneath you, birds chirping above.

“you look beautiful today, haser. that dress is new, ja?”

you stop dead, heart plummeting into your churning gut. you spin on the spot as you look around, eyes darting like a compass in a blizzard. “könig?” your voice wavers, chest heaving as you scan every bush, every tree, every fallen trunk. “did you follow me again?” now it’s your turn for the silent treatment. “könig, where are you?”

“run.”

and you swear you can already hear his footsteps thundering towards you when you flee, the call still connected as you sprint through shrubbery and branches. an evil chuckle echoes from his line and you whimper, nostrils flaring and cheeks burning as you hurry, weaving the obstacles of nature in your path. “that’s right, little rabbit. don’t let me catch you.” his sinister voice tells you — distorted. “let’s make a deal.”

you glance over your shoulder, almost tripping over as your legs carry you haphazardly through the brush. “if you escape, i promise not to come for you.” his voice proposes, but you swear you can hear it somewhere behind you. ”but if i catch you, you’ll never leave me again. ja?”

you cry out, exhausted. doubling over, you brace yourself against the nearest tree, face glistening with a thin film of sweat. you hang up the phone, huffing out staggered breaths while you check the coast is clear. something snaps nearby, no doubt under the heel of a combat boot. you clasp a hand over your mouth and nose, steadying your breaths. the phone rings again and your heart drops when his face appears on your screen. a notification pops down, then.

pick up, herzchen.

you swipe it away and stub your thumb onto the red button, declining his call. leaning back, you allow your head to thud against the tree, windswept hair sticking to the rough bark like velcro. your heart rate skips when movement to your left alerts you of your uninvited company. he’s closer than you’d anticipated. your mobile vibrates yet again in your palm and your resolve crumbles. “leave me alone, please.” you plead with him, eyes flitting back and forth. he chuckles, darkly. a shiver rockets down your spine.

“you look ravishing, my dear; panting against that tree like that. i can see your skin sweating through your new dress. are you trying to turn me on?”

your lips part to retort, but you feel a hot breath fan over your neck and you shriek, dropping your phone as you duck away and swivel on the balls of your feet. he’s standing behind the tree, tall and menacing. his blue eyes pierce into your wide ones, wild and feral. you hadn’t heard him approach you. he’s frighteningly sneaky for his size.

“caught you, little mouse.”

you start to back away, shaking your head ‘no’ with your arms outstretched. but as quick as a hiccup he’s launching himself at you, pouncing on his prey as he tackles you to the forest floor. you squeal, the wind knocked out of you as he settles himself above you, parting your legs with his hand. “oh, schatz. you must stop running from me. i’ll always find you.”

you sniffle, hands weakly attempting to push him off. “why? why do you keep coming back for me?” his mask shifts as he frowns, head tilting like a curious mutt. “you are my liebling, nein? and also, finders keepers.” his hands caress the soft slope of your belly and the pudge of your sides, before sliding down to embrace the plump curves of your hips. “but why me?” you ask again, attempting to squirm away from his touches.

“i believe there is somebody out there for everyone.” he tells you, lifting your dress up so he can reveal your clothed pussy to him. stretch marks decorate your lower belly and upper thighs, faint cellulite dimples peppering the loose flesh. the sight gives him a drastic erection, the rigid outline of his straining cock imprinting the front of his cargos. “and you are my somebody.”

you wiggle and writhe when his hands vacate yours to arrive at his belt, fumbling to unbuckle it. “könig, anyone could see.” you whisper, raising your head to look around. he shushes you, gently pushing your head back down, before traipsing his finger down the divot of your cleavage, over the swell of your tummy, and between your legs. you suck in a shallow breath when he hooks the hem of your cotton panties, ripping them from you like it’s no biggie.

“no one comes out here. only silly girls who insist on running away, ja?” he confidently states, freeing his hard cock with a relieved sigh. your eyes bulge from their sockets, jaws literally dropping. he’s fucking huge, his cockhead sitting above his belly button when his length springs upright to slap his stomach. your pussy clenches at the thought of it being inside you, juices drooling down your arse crack of their one accord.

“let me show you, mausebärchen… how much i love this body of yours.” he crawls over you, his sniper hood draping over your chin and neck when his face levels with yours. you can only gawk up at him wordlessly, dumbfounded. your heart thaws at his determination to make you feel valued and attractive. you muster a small smile, eyes starting to water when he humps the swollen tip of his dick through your slick folds.

the stretch alone of your pussy lips spreading for him stings, and you can only imagine the pain of what’s to come when he finally enters you. “i will be gentle, haser.” he assures, as if reading your mind. “but i am big, so it will be… uncomfortable, no matter what.” you nod, eyes unable to part ways with his.

soon, he’s lubricated himself in your wetness enough to contemplate pushing in, cockhead resting heavily at your entrance. he tucks his face into your neck when he begins to roll his hips forward and you wince, squeezing your eyes shut as your fingers curl into the dirt beneath you. könig bends your legs, granting himself an easier angle to work with as he manouvers himself into you, his belly sandwiching against yours. you whimper, tears spurting with the dull ache of your cunt widening dramatically to take him.

“you’re doing so well, meine liebling. just a little more.” he praises you, hips still rocking gently as he tries to fit his impressive length between your tight walls. he’s slotted halfway into you so far, and he knows you’re struggling to adjust. “never mind.” he decides, propping himself on one arm so he can wipe the tears from your flushed cheeks. “i will not go any deeper.”

you frown, feeling guilty. “a-are you sure?” you peer between you, seeing a good portion of his cock still exposed. “ja, schatz. if you can only take my tip, that’s all you will get.” he practically demands as he commences soft strokes, thrusting his cockhead through your velvety cunt slowly and thoughtfully. you gasp, hands flying to cling onto his back, the muscles beneath his skin twitching and rippling with his efforts.

it takes ever fibre of self-control for könig to not ram his entire cock into your soaked cunny, having to bite his lip until he tastes blood to refrain from snapping his hips all the way. “gott, you’re so tight. so beautiful.” he drawls, hands planting on either side of your head, the lewd sounds of heavy breathing and broken moans filling the clearing. your pussy squelches around him, gradually sucking a little more of his length with each careful drag of his cock.

his gaze is fixated on your stomach, a few rolls present thanks to way he has you positioned. he can see the bump of his cockhead bulging below the flesh as he starts to sink deeper, a raw heat stirring in his balls. “perfect body for a mother.” he mindlessly tells you, and you swear you can see drool soaking through his mask. “let me make you one. let me fill you with my child, ja?”

you mewl, nails scratching at his back through the fabric of his compression shirt. “oh god, whatever you want.” you moan, face contorted with pleasure. “shit- ah!”

he grunts, retaining a deliberate and dexterous pace within you as he concentrates on giving your body the treatment it deserves. “i will breed you, liebe. i’ll breed you so full.” he blurts deliriously, drowned out by your cock-drunk whines. he chases the ambition with admirable determination, grunts and even whimpers falling from his mouth as he breeds your pussy — slurping around him.

before long you start to tremble, a white bliss bubbling in your loins as your uterus contracts. könig curses, sweat dampening his hood as his tempo starts to stutter and jitter. you wrap your limbs around him like a cub, face nuzzling in his chest to muffle your cries when you finally succumb to the rapture, milking him dry as he hits the same high in tandem with you.

he continues rocking into you, knees surely bruised and his trousers definitely mud-stained as he stays bent over your frame, mumbling drowsily about planting his baby in your pretty stomach. he doesn’t stop until he’s certain you couldn’t be any more full up.

Releasing The Noctwind Brothers

Yandere Twin Vampire Brothers x Gender Neutral Human Turned Vampire Reader CW: Incest between the vampire brothers, mildly dubious consent, intoxication, reader initiated sex, threesome, spit as lube, cum as lube, biting, blood sucking, forced to drink blood, forced to turn into a vampire, bullying, bully gets killed, beating, reader has temporarily broken bones, temporary injury, overprotective yanderes, general yandere behavior, twin yanderes, surprisingly whole ending, surprisingly happy ending Word Count: 3.3k (I know this kind of fic isn't for everyone between the violence the bully receives and the incest, but I hope a lot of people like it anyway. I worked very hard. Also yes, this is a repost because the original had an accidentally gendered pronoun. I apologize if anyone read that and experienced dysphoria.)

You had made a mistake. One that would, soon enough, prove to be a fatal one. Not just for you.

In your haste to start a task you had as one of the town’s carpenters you had turned a corner and ran right into the town brute himself, Jorry. Running into him, at any time, could result in a punch from his large meaty fists, but he had been carrying eggs freshly laid from his hens. This resulted in egg yolk covering an outraged Jorry.

Jorry had bullied you for as long as you could remember, he and his friends pummeling you whenever you happened upon them while he was in a bad mood. Or in any mood really. He just really liked using you as a punching bag. Most people left such behavior in childhood, but not Jorry.

You wasted no time at all in fleeing upon seeing who you had ran into. You weren’t quite in the mood to be nursing a broken nose that day. Luckily he had to wipe egg goop out of his eyes and that gave you some crucial extra seconds to make yourself scarce.

Despite making it a good way out of your village, the angered Jorry pursued you. He was nothing if not persistent. You hesitated a bit, but decided your only hope was to flee into the cave that everyone in all the nearby villages were terrified of. No one could remember the truth of the matter, but it had long been forbidden to enter. Many superstitious folks wouldn’t even travel within viewing distance of it.

You did not put much faith in superstition though, and no matter what was in there it couldn’t be worse than how badly Jorry would beat you if he caught up to you. If you had just taken your punishment in town someone would have happened by or heard your screams and he wouldn’t have been able to do nearly as much as he would all the way out here.

Again, a truly fatal miscalculation. You damn fool.

Hoping that you were safe in the cave you crouched in the shadows. But, while absurdly violent, your pursuer was not particularly dimwitted. He pretty quickly surmised that the cave was the logical place for you to have gone. You heard him scream and call for you in the distance.

The only chance to avoid the beating of your lifetime was to retreat farther into the cave. You crept back as silently as humanly possibly. When you went as far back as you could you came across an old metal door, carved into the rock surrounding it were twisting serpents. An ancient rune of unknown meaning was etched into the door itself.

Staring at it filled you with dread and you were possessed with the all consuming urge to flee the way you had come, but it was forgotten as if it was never there when you heard Jorry again, this time near the entrance of the cave. If he entered it now he would be able to see you. Light still made it this far.

With the subtle magic of the rune no longer working on you, you slowly opened the metal door and entered into what looked like an underground mausoleum. An underground tomb long forgotten by the histories of man.

You found yourself between two large rectangles of stone. A chill ran up your spine when you realized they were sarcophagi. Evidently the final resting place for two souls left to the dark and dust of this cave. They were plain and unadorned, other than some words on the top. You leaned over and tried to make out the inscription on one when you suddenly heard the unmistakable sound of stone grating against stone.

The sarcophagus opposite of you moved before the one in front of you did. You tripped backwards in fright as the lids were pushed aside and two pale emaciated corpses pulled themselves up and faced your direction. You couldn’t quite tell in the dark but it seemed like their eyes were completely black, creating a chilling contrast with their pale skin.

The thin pale figures slowly began to pull themselves out of their not so final resting places as you got over your initial shock, got up, and got the fuck out of there. You sprinted past the metal door and back into the front of the cave.

You were so engrossed with the current task of running away from the corpses of the damned risen to do any manner of unholy things to those still living that you did not see Jorry as he entered the cave. For the second time that day you careened right into him, knocking you both out of the cavern and on to the dirt outside.

Jorry growled and grabbed your leg, pulling you over to him.

“You ran like a bitch, finally decide it’s better to face your punishment?”

“No, no, no, you don’t understan-”

He pinned you and began wailing away at your smaller body with his mighty fists. Blow after blow. Your nose was surely broken. Then he got up and started stomping on you with his powerful foot. Now some ribs were certainly broken too.

Suddenly you heard Jorry yelp and the beating stopped. Your face was swollen and bloodied, your mind consumed by the pain of broken bones. You couldn’t tell what was going on. Jorry was screaming, blubbering like a girl. The dearly departed had been slowed due to their time without feeding, but with Jorry distracted by his treatment of you he was easy enough prey.

The thin pale figures had him down on the ground, pinning him with less effort than he had pinned you. They bit into his body, ravenously drinking his blood. Not enough to kill him, but enough to reinvigorate themselves and make him weak and helpless. Barely able to move.

You had managed to wipe the blood from your face and saw what was transpiring. You tried your best to drag yourself through the dirt and put distance between yourself and them, but you only managed to get about a foot away before they finally noticed you.

“Alaric look! The one who saved us… they need tending to.”

The vampire evidently named Alaric joined his companion in looking over you. As injured as you were, you struggled to plea for mercy.

“Shhh, shhh. We aren’t going to hurt you. We’d never hurt our savior.”

“I’m Anthelm Noctwind and this is my twin brother Alaric Noctwind. We're going to help.”

Anhelm positioned himself so that your head was propped up in his lap. He bit at his wrist until blood was flowing.

“Here. Drink.”

You weren't sure what lore was true and what was merely myth, but you were fairly positive that it was universally agreed upon that turning into a vampire required the consumption of one’s blood. You struggled to turn away but you were powerless to do so. Alaric held your mouth open as Anthelm held his bleeding wrist above it.

Blood dripped in and you gagged as you were forced to swallow. It tasted the same as any blood, though perhaps a little sweeter. Shortly after you consumed it you lost consciousness. Both due to the blood itself and your rather severe injuries.

They took you and Jorry back into the cave. It would take the rest of the day and a lot of the night for you to turn and heal. Alaric carried you with the utmost care and consideration for your wounds while just picking up Jorry and tossing him in unceremoniously, causing him to cry out in pain as he hit the hard rocky floor.

“I’d kill you now and decorate this place with your entrails, but we need you for something, so just keep quiet.”

Between Jorry’s incessant pleas to be freed and his attempt to run out of the cavern while they were both busy watching you resulted in his clothes being torn from him and ripped into strips that were used to bind and gag him.

Alaric, the cruelest of the brothers, watched in amusement as their hog tied victim cried and shook in fear. The hulking peasant experiencing the fear of death for the first time. The amused vampire went over to him and pet him like he was a pet, in mock sympathy.

“Don’t worry~,” Alaric cooed, “You’ll be out of your misery soon enough.”

That prompted renewed struggles from the naked man. Alaric only laughed in a maniacal fashion as he returned to your side. They had removed their coats, still pristine as the day they had been sealed away, and used them as bedding for you.

They patiently waited for hours, Alaric occasionally taunting poor Jorry, until you finally stirred. The swelling had gone, your bones had mended, and they had licked up the blood that had covered your face. The only evidence that you had ever suffered at all were the bloodstains on your clothing.

It was well past midnight, the twins had lit a fire to keep you and themselves warm. You could see them clearly now that your face was healed. They both looked exactly alike, down to the same outfits. High class, but outdated, attire. They had pale grey eyes that observed your every movement, completely different from the black voids you thought you had seen earlier. Flawless pale skin with delicate, feminine, features. Their long straight hair accentuated their looks perfectly. They could certainly pass as women if they wore the right attire. Maybe they lured in victims that way.

You were confused and more than a bit groggy, but you managed to piece together all the events that had transpired before your rest. You jumped up and made for the door but they were quicker than anything, human or animal, that you had ever encountered. One got behind you with his hand on your shoulders and the other stood in front with his hand on your cheek.

“Don’t be afraid, dove. We aren’t going to hurt you.”

You whimpered as they each took one of your hands and guided you over to Jorry.

“You consumed vampiric blood, right now it has transformed you. Temporarily.”

“Yes, to make it stick you’ll now need to kill.”

“Technically it doesn’t need to be human, any mammal will do, but since we have this lovely volunteer we figured we shouldn’t waste it. ”

“Don’t really want him talking about us. Don’t really want him to live after hurting our dove. And, well, it spares some rodent that is more deserving of life.”

You shuffled nervously.

“I… don’t want to be a… vampire…”

You looked down at your feet, trying to avoid eye contact with them or Jorry who looked up at you with tears streaking his face.

“Sorry, but we aren’t really giving you a choice.”

“We didn’t mean to make it seem that way, please forgive us.”

“You saved us, you had enough magical power to open the door and ignore the rune. You will be a strong vampire, and we can tell a lot more about you by your scent.”

“Smell things like personality, even some thoughts. We know you will be perfect for us.”

“Uh… can’t I just stay with you and remain human?”

“No.” They both said in unison.

“Humans age and die.”

“Humans have betrayed us too. That’s how we ended up here. You broke the seal so we have to show our gratitude.”

You kept staring at your feet until you worked up the courage to ask the question you were afraid to hear the answer to.

“What if I refuse?”

Anthelm smiled and Alaric laughed as if it was a funny joke. Not that you could tell them apart yet.

“Not a choice sweetie, remember?”

“If you don’t do it willingly then I block the tomb entrance so you can’t go deeper.”

“And I guard the cave exit so you can’t leave. Then we leave you alone with your friend. Your hunger will grow. You’ll crave blood. Your senses will be unbearable.”

“You’ll hear his heartbeat, he will smell delicious, then you’ll drain him dry.”

“In more normal circumstances he could survive that, and the blood consumption without a death only prolongs the transitional period, it wouldn’t make you a true vampire. Go long enough without blood, have someone tie you up for a few days, and you’d turn fully human.”

“But he is weak and beaten. He won’t survive.”

You looked at them and stated boldly that you’d resist.

“You are more than welcome to try.”

They each took their agreed upon spots to guard against you fleeing. True to their word you did steadily become more and more hungry. Thirsty for blood. Your senses became acutely aware of the food that had been tied up for you. You tried to resist. Your body shook with the effort. You had a splitting headache and panted heavily. Jorry smelled so good, and the beat of his heart beckoned you towards him. Though you resisted longer than most, the outcome was inevitable.

You descended upon him, he squealed as much as he could with his gag as you bit into his neck and sucked him dry. His futile struggles getting more feeble by the second until they stopped entirely.

Alaric and Anthelm were behind you watching with wicked smiles.

When you finished your meal of Jorry you looked on in horror. But only briefly. You had over consumed and the effects were as powerful as they were swift. You were a bit dizzy and felt as though you were light as air.

“With his death you’ll be with us forever!”

You tried to get up but stumbled and nearly fell. One of the twins caught you. You smiled and nuzzled into his neck. There was a cute man holding you, why had you been so horrified earlier? You shrugged it off, if you couldn’t remember then it probably wasn’t too terribly important.

“Careful, dove. The first times on human blood and drinking to the point of death can be intense.”

“And we definitely let you drink too much.”

You giggled and stroked Anthelm’s soft black hair, not at all paying attention to his words.

“You’re prettier than any girl I’ve ever seen.”

He blushed and Alaric cackled at the spectacle. Until you kissed Anthelm deeply. Then Alaric looked a bit jealous.

You grinded your crotch against Anthelm and giggled at the face he made.

“Everything feels so… intense.”

“Ddon’t you want to go somewhere a bit more... comfy?

“Or romantic? We could find a town. An inn.” Added Alaric.

You ignored him, proceeded to unbutton his shirt and then rubbed your hands over his lean abs. He started returning the treatment, Alaric came over and helped him undress you. It didn’t take long for all three of you to be nude. They used the clothes to make an impromptu bed. Anthelm laid down, his erect cock on full display.

He pulled you on top of him, kissing and nipping at your neck while Alaric was behind the two of you. He pressed two spit-lubed fingers into both you and his brother. Both of you writhed in pleasure, but it simply wasn’t enough.

Alaric didn’t need to stretch either of you out, vampires wouldn’t be pained by something like a cock shoving its way in, but it would feel better with more moisture. He withdrew his fingers, making you pout, and lubed up his cock with saliva before sucking on his brothers for a moment to get it wet.

Then he guided his brother's dick into you before sliding his own cock into his brother. You pressed back against it, trying to get the girthy member as deep into you as possible. Anthelm humped into you slowly, timing his thrusts with your bounces.

Alaric gasped as his cock was gripped by his brother’s tight inviting insides, he gripped Anthelm’s legs for leverage as he drove himself deeper. Anthelm, in the middle of all the action, could barely think. Simultaneously making love to you while being bred by his twin had him drooling.

“Always so tight…”

“Alaric, h-harder.”

His sibling obliged him.

You were in a worse state than Anthelm. You were new to being a vampire and the blood drunkenness combined with your recent kill made every sensation indescribable. More so when the sensations were that of a vampire at your neck and a cock humping into you while you weakly continued to bounce on it.

Anthelm’s entire body shook as he came in you, shoving his cock far into depths before unloading his seed. He took a few moments to catch his breath, an orgasm evidently enough to tire a vampire. If only for a moment. He stayed hard and began fucking into you again.

“I think you were made for us, angel.”

The stimulation was just too much for you and you screamed as you had the most intense orgasm of your entire life. Your body relaxed as you lay on Anthelm, no longer bouncing on his cock but content to let him keep using you as long as he saw fit as you nuzzled into his chest.

Alaric gripped his brother’s legs tightly as he finally slammed in hard and filled him like he had filled you. Without missing a beat he slid out of his brother, covered his cock in the cum that pooled out of him, and slid it right into you. Both of there cocks now covered in a slimy mix of both of their loads, using it as lube as they thrust into you in tandem. You whimpered at the sheer immensity of the pleasure that was filling you.

The three of you spent the rest of the entire night, and a good chunk of the morning, engaged in a rapturous sea of sex. Eventually you all fell asleep on top of them. Given their recent centuries long slumber they stayed awake and idly toyed with your hair or caressing you as you slept soundly.

They whispered to themselves about what the plan from there was.

“There’s a stream outside we can clean ourselves off in.”

“Yeah, I can smell it. After that head to a town?”

“A large one where we can blend in. Feed on livestock outside the walls. Maybe rats too if necessary. Always rats in large towns.”

“What about humans? Always rapists and thugs in cities that need to be taken care of.”

Alaric looked at Anthelm hopefully.

“True. True,” Anthelm relented, “I suppose it won’t hurt to remove a few bad ones. On occasion.”

Alaric broke into a large grin.

“Yes! I love how our new partner gets when they are drunk on human life.”

You stirred a bit in your sleep though you didn’t wake, drool under your cheek and on Alaric’s bare chest.

“Quiet, they need their rest…”

“Sorry,” Alaric murmured sheepishly.

They continued chatting about the future until you woke up. With a clearer head you were once more traumatized by what you had done, but they calmed you down and explained how he deserved it and that you were not a monster. They would guide you in your new life.

They were eager to leave behind the cave that had held them prisoner for so long. Bidding the cave farewell with a piss on Jorry’s soon to be rotting corpse, the closest thing he would get to a burial, the brothers departed with you.

You made a life for yourselves in one of the larger cities. Anytime someone tried to hurt you they went missing quite fast. It would be many years still before you had the degree of strength and power that the twins possessed. And even once you did they’d always remain overprotective.

You quickly came to accept and love your new existence with them. Anthelm took up your trade with you while Alaric became a prominent cook and eventually owner of his own restaurant. Apparently the hypersensitivity of vampiric taste buds helped him make delicacies. There was always a need for carpentry and fancy food, so you never had any money troubles, (un)life was good. And you had an eternity to spend it with them.

I imagine that reader makes clothes for the entire tribe of goblins.

Hey love, I got a question; are you down for goblins? Specifically a yandere horde of goblins? 😳

I'm not not down for it...

(I'm sorry, I'm sure I know what kind of goblin horde you meant, buuuut I started writing and couldn't stop 🥲)

CW: Entrapment, obsessive behavior, ecological polyandry/polygyny with a GN!reader, both male and female goblins, forced parental responsibilities, platonic yandere, not proofread

Madame Gilly burst into the backroom, nearly startling (Reader) into swallowing the pins they were holding in their lips. "(Reader)! Awful, amazing, terrible, fantastic news!"

(Reader) smiled nervously, sticking the pins in their cushion. "What is it, Madame?" Their boss was fabulously dramatic as always, fanning herself with a decorated envelope.

"Oh, nothing.. just a summons for one Mx. (Reader) from the Count's daughter."

"What for?"

"How should I know? I didn't read your letter!" She handed over the letter while sighing loudly. "Yet, it's so beautifully decorated.. such a shame! Another marriage proposal, ignored!" She pretended to become faint, placing her knuckles on her forehead.

(Reader) chuckled, opening the bright purple envelope with lavender tied in a ribbon. Their eyes widened, an excited gasp escaped as their legs failed them and they fell back onto their stool.

"What is it?!"

"It's.." a shocked blush dusted their cheeks, "it's a request for my services! She wants a dress for an upcoming party!"

Madame Gilly squealed, bouncing up and grabbing her protege. "Oh, that's even better than a proposal! I'm so proud of you!"

It would be roughly three days ride by carriage, packed with smaller fabrics for color swatches and texture explanation, multiple dresses (Reader) had already made with mannequins to display them, and (Reader's) portfolio of designs.

Marcus, a local man who often rode Madame Gilly around for a small fee, offered up his services, just as excited for (Reader) as the Madame. "So, this is your lucky break, huh?" He offered a hand to the young employee. "Finally gonna start considering opening your own shop."

(Reader) smiled, stepping into the carriage without Marcus' assistance. "I've never been interested in business, Marcus, you know this. I just want to make clothes."

"You should also seriously begin considering marriage.."

"My work is my legacy, Marcus." (Reader) spoke sharply with a tight smile, shutting down the conversation. They had received many marriage proposals from eligible bachelors and bachelorettes since they became of age, but didn't take an interest in any of them. Of course, (Reader) found people attractive in the past, but never felt emotionally invested in anyone to marry them, and they certainly didn't need to marry for money or connections. The thought of having children one day was also something (Reader) had seriously debated, because although the fantasy of having a child was wonderful, the process of having a baby was intimidating. Whether through being impregnated or impregnating someone else, the baby stage was much more terrifying than the raising of a child, for reasons they couldn't quite explain. The anxiety was just too much to handle.

But (Reader) didn't feel like life was passing them by, nor did they have regrets, if they ever got married then their future spouse would wait for them, no matter how many years it took to meet them.

Marcus closed the door, and (Reader) deflated, thankful that he took the hint and ended the conversation.

The change between the road and the dirt path could be felt and it made (Reader) almost wish that they had worn a dress instead of pants, just for the added cushion on their rear end.

The first day went smoothly, and boringly, (Reader) had nothing to do but think, and the night was uncomfortable, even cocooned in their blanket. But it was the next day that everything went wrong. (Reader) never saw what happened, but suddenly the carriage careened off the path and tumbled down a cliff, crashing through the woods of the mountain side.

(Reader's) entire body became airborne in the carriage, slamming their head into the ceiling, barely giving them enough time to protect their neck with their arms before being thrown like a ragdoll, not feeling any immediate pain due to the rush of adrenaline. It happened so quickly, their balled up body bouncing five times against the walls and roof before landing bottom up on the escarpment.

Out of the shattered window, (Reader) saw Marcus lying motionlessly in a tree a good distance from the carriage. They pulled their body right side up, slowly becoming aware of the stinging pain across their body. Especially their leg. Blood soaked through their right pant leg, and (Reader) couldn't bend it. It was only the second day of their journey, so it would take two days until the Duke realized something was wrong, that the journey was taking too long, and sent out a search party, which would take a day to get to the road they fell off of. Would they even notice the tire marks? And if they did, would they risk the people to search for them?

(Reader) sighed, closing their eyes. There was no point in dwelling on what ifs. (Reader) was resigned to their fate.

"I wonder what will happen first.. Starving to death, or being eaten by a wild animal." They chuckled humorlessly. With nothing to do but wait for the inevitable (Reader) fell asleep, but that was possibly a concussion.

"There's something in there."

"A dead something."

Little voices whispered outside the wreckage, rousing (Reader) from their brain injured slumber. Eyes watched them from the broken window of the door, hiding themselves from view.

"I won't bite." (Reader) offered a smile, hoping whoever was watching them wouldn't be frightened off.

A childish gasp escaped, as one of the spies scampered off. "I thought you said it was dead!" It hollered into the woods.

The child left shuffled their feet in the leaves, debating. "You promise you won't?"

"I promise."

A tiny little thing dressed in rags popped her chubby cheeked head into view, large pointy ears almost drooping under their own weight stuck out from black hair pulled back into a ponytail, her hair framed a green skinned face, making it obvious that the little girl was a goblin. She rung the front of her oversized shirt with her hands nervously.

"Hello." (Reader) cocked their head to the side in a mock bow, back and head in too much pain to attempt an actual greeting. The smile on their lips didn't leave.

"Hello.." The child mumbled in a timid way, copying (Reader's) head tilt.

"My name is (Reader). May I ask for your name?" (Reader) spoke in a low voice to appear as kind and non threatening as possible.

She took a small step forward, entering the little window without needing to duck. "My name is Vix Ix, but my brother calls me Beetle Hands."

"Why does he call you that?"

"Because I'm the best beetle catcher. At least, in my tribe." Vix Ix sat down cross legged just out of (Reader's) reach. Her large eyes wandered over (Reader's) form, mesmerized by their clothing. "What are you doing down here?"

"I had an accident. I was traveling to go meet with a potential client. I make clothes." (Reader) added that last part, seeing how the little girl's eyes sparkled while staring at the intricate needlework on their vest.

"Did you make that?" Vix Ix pointed a finger curiously at the top.

"Yes, I did. Would you like to see more of my work?" The tiny child nodded excitedly. The reaction was very human, and very adorable. "Everything may have.. scattered in the fall. But there should be a chest with a black lock, and a worn painting of a dove above it's latch. If you can find that", (Reader) fished through their pocket for a key and held it out to Vix Ix, "you can see a few of the dresses I brought for my client to look at."

Vix Ix grabbed the key, forgetting to be frightened. She ran back out of the wreckage, and (Reader) laughed, enjoying being able to bring wonder to a child in what (Reader) thought was their final moments.

They had heard so many rumors about goblins, so many stories, ranging from awful tales of mindless gnome sized trolls that murdered anything that breathed, to intelligent little creatures unfairly exterminated because of their annoying love of tricks and pranks. Sunlight glinted off of the broken shards of glass, reflecting into (Reader's) eye. How long had I been asleep? From their spot in the trees, they couldn't tell if it was midday or sunset.

Twigs snapped as the goblinette ran at full speed back to (Reader), out of breath and clutching a sparkly purple dress with butterflies embroidered at the hem line. "You made this?!"

"Hahaha! Yes I did. Do you like it?"

She was practically on the verge of tears. "It's beautiful! Is your client a princess?" Her voice was full of awe.

"The daughter of a Duke." The child waddled over, tripping on the bundle of dress in her arms, and sat much closer to (Reader) than she had earlier.

"It's so pretty!" Green fingers rubbed the fabric lovingly.

An idea came to (Reader) as they saw the joy in Vix Ix's face as she gripped the dress tightly. "You know.. I also had my sewing kit with me. If you can find that, I can trim up this dress for you."

Eyes wide with shock, her ears bounced like she had just been slapped, and asked in horror "You would cut up this dress?!"

Surprised, (Reader) felt their heart melt a little. "My leg is broken." Vix Ix looked down, and seemed startled by the blood. "I don't think there's any way the Duke's men are going to find me. So, I would have to cut off a lot of this dress to fit you, but I'd rather it be worn, then rot away in a trunk."

Tears began to drip down the little kid's cheeks, puffed up in an attempt to stop herself from crying. "I'll go find your sewing kit." She ran back out, sniffling loudly.

The moon rose high into the sky, and Hog Nose, a scrawny little boy who had an upturned button nose unlike any of the goblins in his tribe, held his ears as he was reprimanded by one of the tribe's strongest. Their tribe was small, and unusual. Decades ago their family began from a group of defectors, mostly women escaping their own tribes, wanting to create a community where they could flourish. Despite never attacking humans or causing mischief they suffered many casualties at the hands of adventurers, slaughtering them before they had the chance to explain themselves, forcing them to defend themselves. This left their family broken and impoverished. But they never gave in to "their nature" by stealing from travelers, an attempt to prove that goblins are not born evil.

"And you left Beetle Hands alone, possibly with a human?" Keegraul loudly asked incredulously.

Hog Nose whimpered, afraid of being punished and fearful for his sister. Keegraul grabbed a large dagger, almost a short sword in the young child's hands.

"She still isn't back yet, so lead the way."

The woods were dangerous at night, not only because of wild animals like mountain lions, but because of monsters that had slowly been migrating closer towards the goblins' home. Hog Nose shook as he led Keegraul through the trees, worried to find his sister hurt, or worse.

But what they found instead was that sound of laughter, emanating from a broken carriage connected to a dead horse with another corpse stuck in a tree nearby. Confused, Hog Nose ran to pile of broken wood, rushing past Keegraul who tried to stop him, knife ready for a fight.

"Beetle Hands!" He called out, not knowing what to expect, but surprised by what he found. His sister, wearing human clothing, with an injured human still fixing the bottom of the skirt.

"Hog Nose? What are you doing here?" She seemed genuinely confused, having had so much fun with her new human friend that she hadn't realized the time, standing in the dim light of (Reader's) lamp.

"I'm here to save you?"

Keegraul poked his head in after Hog Nose, curious as to the commotion. That's when the scarred man who had fought many battles with many adventurers, who never once met a human who treated him or his kin as equals, made eye contact with an exhausted person, pale from blood loss, fighting through their pain and fatigue, to make a dress for a little goblin girl. At least, that's what it looked like.

"What's going on here?" Keegraul meant to ask, but it came out as more of a demand.

Worried that they had offended him, (Reader) held up their hands. But Vix Ix beamed up at him, her large toothy grin radiating childish wonder. "(Reader's) making me a princess!"

"Oh, are they?" Keegraul released the tension he had been holding. The air smelled like blood, and at first he thought it was from the human's dead companions outside, but their broken leg was hard to miss. "It looks like they're dying."

Vix Ix ceased her bouncing, turning a terrified eye to (Reader). "Are you dying?"

(Reader) sent a quick glare to the adult goblin before shifting back to their comforting smile. "My leg just hurts, sweetheart. I'm sure I'll be fine."

"Not if you don't get that taken care of." The goblin retorted, stepping closer and bending down to get a better look. He let out a noise of frustration. "I can't see anything but blood with these pants on."

Rough hands with broken nails peeled (Reader's) pants off, pausing whenever they sucked on their teeth in pain. The bone right beneath their knee was protruding from from it's flesh.

"That's a nasty break all right."

"Can you fix it?" The little boy goblin asked, still shaking from earlier, but now cradling his blade like a doll.

Delirious from exhaustion, (Reader) turned their smile to him. "What's your name?"

"Craak, or Hog Nose."

They could feel themselves about to pass out. "Hognose? That's my favorite snake. Cutest little snake I've ever seen.." Keegraul tightened their torn pants around their thigh, waking them up with the shooting pain.

(Reader) hissed, incapable of audibly screaming. "We should take you back to the hole, so that we can get that leg fixed up."

Vix Ix stood tall, arms straight in the air, with a determined look on her face. "You can lean on me!"

Keegraul sighed, rubbing his eyes. "I'll find you a large stick for a crutch, and you can lean on my head for support." Vix Ix followed him, arguing about who got to support (Reader) on their journey, while Hog Nose stood shyly, still watching (Reader) with a small grin. "Did you mean that?"

(Reader) felt feverish, and couldn't focus their eyes. "Of course. You mean.. the snakes right? Never seen a cuter snake." Their breathing was labored, pausing between words awkwardly.

There was an odd blue tint forming on his baby cheeks, but it dissipated with the arrival of his little sister. "WE FOUND A STICK!"

The goblins all stared at the human receiving medical attention, gobsmacked. Everyone was incredibly interested in seeing who was special enough to be brought home by Keegraul. Especially the children, who were entranced by the dress (Reader) fixed up for Beetle Hands.

"Are you a princess?" A young girl asked, practically glowing.

"Haha no."

"Oh. Are you a prince?"

"Alright! Everyone go to bed!" Keegraul shooed the goblins back to the sleeping room. They all went back except a woman and Vix Ix. The lady seemed embarrassed, hiding herself by crossing her arms.

"You made this?"

"Yes. I have more dresses and fabric in the woods."

Her eyebrows were knit in what looked to be anger. "Why did you make a dress for Beetle Hands?"

"I just tailored it for her. Because she thought it was pretty."

"Yeah, but why?"

(Reader) smiled, understanding that the goblins must be suspicious of them. "Doesn't she look pretty?"

Vix Ix spun around, bumping into the other goblin. "I do!"

Her face softened. "You really think she's pretty?"

"Of course?" The goblin turned blue, like Hog Nose had earlier, and shuffled away.

(Reader) would later learn that her name was Reassa, and she warmed up to (Reader) quickly as they recuperated. In fact, all of the goblin tribe were incredibly welcoming to (Reader) to the family. They helped (Reader) between rooms, and generally fawned over them. As thanks for saving their life, (Reader) worked on reworking the dresses and fabrics the goblins found near the crash site into outfits for everyone. But as (Reader) got better, the goblins became more nervous.

"Are you thinking of leaving?" Keegraul wrung his hat in his hands, big sad eyes staring at (Reader) pleadingly.

"I'm sure my boss thinks I'm dead. It would be good to return home, and contact Marcus' family about his fate. But worry not, I won't tell anyone about you or the tribe." (Reader) smiled, practicing standing on their healing leg.

"That's not why I ask." (Reader) cocked their head, confused. "We trust you- I trust you. I know you wouldn't betray us. We- we'll just miss you."

Vix Ix popped out from behind a stack of boxes, knocking (Reader) to the ground, sobbing. "You're not leaving!"

Keegraul's heart broke. "Beetle -"

"No! Ti aim kahl, pen! (Reader's) not leaving!"

Reassa listened from outside the hole, along with three other women. They didn't understand. Didn't they make their love for (Reader) obvious enough? The flowers they would weave into crowns for them, the poems they world write for them..

One of the younger women started crying, head in her hands, choking on her sobs. Something dark grew in Reassa's chest, a feeling she often tried to force away, to prove to the world that they were wrong about goblins. A darkness, a possessiveness. "Maybe we should keep (Reader) here."

"We can't keep them against their will. They aren't a prisoner."

Reassa punched the entrance to their hollow, clenching her jaw tightly. "I love them."

"So do we.. but, what can we do?"

Hog Nose dropped a basket of vegetables. He had returned earlier than the other children. "Did you just say (Reader) is leaving?"

"Hog Nose! I'm so sorry, when did you get here?"

"I don't want them to leave!"

"I know, baby, but there's nothing-"

Hog Nose pulled out his dagger from it's sheath, rubbing his thumb across the beautiful golden vest (Reader) had made him as he did so. "(Reader) never learned our language."

"What?"

"What if the woods are too dangerous for them to go home? Because of the kahn piers?" The women all stopped, internally debating whether or not they could betray their fore mothers like this, lie to keep a human for themselves. But the decision was made for them, as Hog Nose slashed open his arm with the blade.

Inside the hole, (Reader) heard the women scream, and quickly wrestled Vix Ix to her feet so (Reader) could hobble to the opening. Reassa carried Hog Nose in her arms, a bloody mess, with a guilty expression on her face.

"What happened?" Keegraul demanded, watching as (Reader) pulled the little boy out of Reassa's arms to inspect the damage.

"He was attacked!" She collapsed, tearing at Keegraul's shirt.

"By what?!"

She swallowed hard, eyes flickering to (Reader), the motion only noticed by Keegraul and Vix Ix.

"Kahn piers."

Keegraul's eyes widened, realizing immediately what they had planned without discussing with him or the other men. "What kind of idiot-"

"What's a kahn pier?"

Vix Ix looked at her brother, witnessing him quickly shut the eye he was peaking out of. "Kahn piers are the most vile, evil creatures in these woods!" She cried out, grabbing onto her brother dramatically. "Hog Nose is lucky to be alive!"

Shame ripped through Keegraul's spirit, but seeing (Reader) shake with fear, imagining them doting on the children, caring for an the adults, watching them leave.

Wouldn't it be wonderful? Having (Reader) there to brighten their little home, loving the young ones as their own pen? Almost like a real spouse?

Even the way they clung onto Hog Nose's bloodied body, too broken up to notice that all his wounds were only surface deep.

Keegraul knew that everyone would play along, no one would tell (Reader) the truth. Everyone loved them so much, it was almost disturbing.

"Call everyone back home. The woods aren't safe."

love this idea 🩷

Family Wrath

( Implied SA, not actually SA, POV outsider misunderstandings )

Okay I want all the misunderstandings!

Misunderstandings galore my beloved!

Anyway!

For this intrusive thought that decided to hit me as I was minding my own business-

Danny is the baby that Stephanie gave into adoption when she was young.

Obvi trans Danny,

So after Stephanie realizes just who Danny is she investigates (You can't escape the Bat paranoia training)

But here are the misunderstandings: Ellie and Dante (de-aged)

" Oh my God guys I'm a grandmother! "

But wait there's more!

Danny is how old?! With kids, that are very much not newborns?

" So who's the dad? "

" Oh some fruit-loop named Vlad, he was obsessed with my mom when they went to college together but she wasn't interested at all & now he's obsessed with me. He really wanted the 'perfect' son but I told him to fuck off not that he cared about what I wanted. So yeah, sorry for rambling-are you okay you look a little pale, is the heat bothering you? "

Danny forgets that peoples first thoughts aren't " Oh yea clone! " Or timeline shenanigans

So what these concerned people heard was " Yea this adult man wanted my mom and when he saw that that wasn't an option he targeted me as a child "

Dante & Ellie are just enjoying the show intentionally creating more misunderstandings and havoc, they hope someone will finally go beat Vlad since they're now too small to beat him.

~

Dante: " Momma practically died when I was born. "

Ellie: "Yea I almost killed him too! "

They're technically not lying just using what actually happened in a different context

~

Alfred after hearing what's going on grabbing his shotgun: " I still have good aim."

~

Jason/Stephanie: " A little murder is fine, as a treat "

~

Just more and more misunderstandings happening around Danny with him being none the wiser.

~

Feel free to add to my nonsense, I love it, it's fun to read what people come up with

~

Just an (Intrusive) Idea

Love Me Again

Pairings: Dark!Billy Russo x Reader

Summary: You run into your high school boyfriend Billy at a Christmas party. What started out as a nice reunion quickly turns dark when Billy confesses he still has feelings for you.

Warnings: IMPLIED NON-CON, kidnapping, violence. DO NOT READ IF THESE WILL UPSET YOU. YOUR MEDIA CONSUMPTION IS YOUR RESPONISBILITY.

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: Written for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor and @lokislastlove XXXmas Challenge. This is my first dark fic and my first time writing for Billy Russo. Sorry if it sucks!

It includes: "The flames of the artifical fireplace licked at the glass, radiating a layer of hear between the bodies gathered for the seasonal soiree." ; obsessive ex ; "You lied to me. I don't like liars." ; : "I hurt you. You hurt me first!"

_______________________________________

The flames of the artificial fireplace licked at the glass, radiating a layer of heat between the bodies gathered for the seasonal soiree. An old friend from high school, Richelle, had invited you to her house for a holiday party, something she said was a chance to catch up and make up for lost time but really you knew she wanted to rub her success in her former peers’ faces. Her “house”, which was really more of a mansion, was out in the Hamptons. Her husband was handsome and nice but rather bland.

When you first received the invitation, gold cursive embossed on ivory cardstock, you rolled your eyes at her blatant attempt to be flashy but then you decided it was your attempt to show everyone from high school how beautifully you had come into yourself since graduation. Your black dress hugged your curves flatteringly, revealing skin in just the right places without being inappropriate for the occasion. Your lips were painted crimson and your subtle yet classic makeup was upgraded by a modest sheen of glitter to give it that festive pop.

Hors d'oeuvres were arranged on silver and gold platters, decorated with sugared cranberries and rosemary to look like frosted sprigs of pine and berries, as if walking outside into the cold New York snow didn’t provide enough of that ambience. You filled a small plate with various fancy pastries that you couldn’t entirely identify but they smelled delicious regardless before returning to a small group of people you had found, old friends from your favorite club. “Oh my gosh! I remember that!” You laughed, covering your full mouth with your hand while you listened to Marcus’s memory of the time your class teamed up with the security guards to play a prank on your teacher, “Mrs. Smith was so mad after that.”

“Serves her right! She was such a bitch!” Christine defended through her laughs.

You nodded, “She really was! I swear, if you hate kids that much, teach college or something…”

Christine picked up off of Marcus’s story and continued with her own spinoff but you couldn’t be bothered to keep up with her words. The world around you seemed to dull as you locked eyes with those dark brown orbs across the room. A surprised smile of disbelief spread across your face as you saw Billy Russo for the first time in years. His face lit up to match your own as gazes met and you excused yourself to glide over to him.

“Billy! I can’t believe you’re here!” You embraced him tightly, his arms pulling you closer into him and you couldn’t help but notice the expanse of muscle you felt pressed against your body.

He released you and gave you a dazzling grin, “When Richelle sent the invite, I couldn’t refuse. Shit, you look great!” Billy gestured up and down your body and your cheeks burned.

“Me? Look at you!” You waved your hand up and down, from his face that had always been well-structured but now had this sexy maturity to it down to his body that was clad in a tailored suit that accentuated his amazing physique. “How’ve you been? I haven’t seen you in forever. My favorite jarhead…”

Billy laughed at your old nickname for him and sipped from his glass of what you assumed to be whiskey, “Well, you know, I was in the marines for a while but since I got out I started a hired arms business, Anvil. I’ve, uh, I’ve been doing good.”

A genuinely proud sigh left your lips, “I’m so glad you’ve been doing well. It sounds like you’ve done good for yourself. You deserve it, Billy.” And you meant it. You were no stranger to Billy’s hard past. You’d spent a good portion of it with him. The two of you had gone to school together for years as class-friends but not really that close, until you started dating when you were seventeen. It had only lasted a year, both of you parting ways after high school, but he had been your first love and you his.

He looked at you with caring eyes and a smirk that could kill. “Thank you,” he nodded, “but enough about me. What about you? Surely you’ve taken over the world by now.”

You shrugged with faux arrogance, “I’m just that good. I overthrew the world and there wasn’t even a hiccup in daily life. No lives lost, no crashing economies. I was meant for world domination.” You giggled and chewed your lip, “No, but, um, really, I’m doing pretty good. I got that job I always talked about when we toge- when we were in high school. I’m living in Brooklyn now and… um, yeah. I think that’s about it for the big stuff.” You chuckled, finding it difficult to find anything interesting about your life.

“Living in Brooklyn with a boyfriend?” Billy pressed casually and you rolled your eyes, waving off the question.

“Oh no! No, still single,” you glanced away with an awkward chuckle before looking back to him, “What about you? Still terrorizing the women of New York with those killer eyes of yours?”

Billy looked away jokingly with a guilt that told you that you were right in your teasing accusations but then he shook his head, “There’s always only ever been one girl for me.”

The air got thick between the two of you as you realized what he meant. “Oh,” you chuckled awkwardly, unsure of how to respond.

“You know, I never stopped loving you,” Billy admitted without reservation.

Your mouth fell open but words failed to follow. What were you supposed to say to that? “You were my first love too,” you attempted to not agree with his sentiments while not entirely blowing them off either but the dark glint in his eyes told you that maybe that wasn’t the right approach.

Billy looked at you like you held the galaxy in your eyes, “My first and only. You know, I was never able to stop thinking about you. The thought of you was the only thing that kept me going when I was over in Afghanistan.”

“I, uh, that’s very flattering, Billy,” you stumbled over your words, nervous by the underlying tone that he expected you to reciprocate. His dark eyes were locked with yours in an invasive terrifying way he’d never looked at you with. Electricity crackled in the air dangerously and you felt an overwhelming urge to leave.

Thankfully, your phone began to buzz in your purse and you held up your finger. “I’m so sorry, I need to take this really quick,” you lied apologetically, looking at the number that was likely spam. Nevertheless, you answered the phone, “Hello? Mhm… Really? Right now,” you sighed, “Okay, yeah, I’ll be right in.”

You gave Billy an apologetic look as you waved your phone in faux annoyance. “I’m so sorry. It’s a 9-1-1 from work. I need to go,” you lied, knowing you had heard nothing but a recorded message about your car’s extended warranty on the other end. You reached for Billy’s hand and squeezed it tightly, “It’s been great seeing you again, Billy. Take care of yourself.”

As you went to walk away, Billy’s hand flipped up to grab your wrist and your blood suddenly ran cold as ice. You stopped in your tracks and turned to look from where his hand gripped tightly around your arm to his eyes that bored into yours dangerously. “You’re a terrible liar,” he said threateningly.

“Billy, let me go,” you demanded, fear making your voice falter just slightly. You tried to rip your hand away but his grip was like iron.

He sighed with feigned regret before twisting your wrist in a way caused an intense pain to shoot through your joint. “Agh!” You hissed and he let off just slightly.

He pressed his body into your side in a way that just looked like you were walking close to each other. “Shhh,” he cooed in your ear, “All I wanted to do is talk but you had to go ahead and lie to me. Now you better act normal or I’m gonna have to snap this pretty little wrist and neither of us want that.” Billy applied pressure again just to prove his point and you winced, knowing damn well that if he pressed any further your bones would surely give.

Billy began to lead you through the crowd of people, smiling at your former classmates as if he wasn’t forcefully leading you towards the door. “You can’t do this,” you mumbled to him but he just shoved your body forward slightly.

You tripped over your heels and he caught you, “Hey!” He chuckled loudly, “I got you.”

A guy you must have gone to school with but couldn’t place a name for glanced over to the two of you, “Hey, Billy! Everything okay?”

Billy just nodded like a good Samaritan, “Yeah, she just had a little too much to drink. I’m gonna drive her home. Make sure she gets there safe.”

Before you knew it, you were out the door and being bitten by the freezing cold. Billy led you to a sleek black car and shoved you inside. The moment the door was shut, you tried to throw it open before Billy could get into the driver’s seat but the moment your feet hit the snow, you heard a gun cocking. When you looked up, you found yourself staring down the end of a barrel. “Stay.” The word was short and simple but enough to invoke more fear than you’d ever felt.

Slowly, you retreated back into the passenger’s seat and Billy slammed the door shut again. This time, you sat quietly for the first several minutes of the drive “Where are we going?” you demanded.

“I wanted to show you my place. It’s pretty nice, y’know,” he said as if he hadn’t just taken you at gunpoint.

Your hands shook, “Take me home.”

“I am. I’m taking you to what could be our home. Just come see what you could have with me,” Billy tried to persuade you but you just felt sick.

“Billy, you just dragged me out of a party and forced me into your car at gunpoint! I don’t want you!” You spat, your eyes brimming with angry, terrified tears.

Billy’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel as he stared straight ahead at the road, flurries blurring the windshield. “That’s just because you don’t know what you’re missing yet! But don’t worry, you’ll see. You’ll remember what we had. You’ll remember how much you love me.”

The car slowed to a stop inside of a parking garage and Billy led you inside a tall apartment building and up to his nice apartment. Once inside, his demeanor changed and he became more gentle again, guiding you inside before turning around and locking the door - all three locks.

“Y-you have a very nice apartment,” you swallowed hard, “Is that what you wanted to hear, Billy? You have a nice place, a nice car, a nice face. You’ve come so far and I’m really happy for you. Can I please go now?” You pleaded, fear and anger mixing dangerously inside of you.

Billy shrugged his jacket off and tossed it onto the coat hook beside the door. He sauntered towards you while rolling up the cuffs of his white button up, back you into the dining room. Under different circumstances, you would have been impressed with the space but under the current circumstances, you wanted to be anywhere else. “No, no…” Billy shook his head, “You see, I’ve got the job. I’ve got the apartment. I’ve got the money. The only thing I’m missing is you.”

You shook your head, your back coming to hit the wall of his dining room. “This isn’t the way.”

“You wouldn’t listen to me earlier. You lied to me. I don’t like liars. Especially when the girl I love is using excuses to get away from me,” he tutted as if you should be feeling guilty.

Your eyes widened, “And was I wrong?! You kidnapped me!”

Billy shook his head, impressed, “No! You’re smart, aware. It’s some of the sexiest things about you. It makes you dangerous and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like a bit of danger.” He ran a hand up your exposed arm. Goosebumps formed and you shivered, flinching away from his touch.

Suddenly, he gripped your bicep hard enough to pepper your arm with bruises and used the other hand to press against your throat. He wasn’t choking you but he used his leverage expertly to pin you against the wall, right where he wanted you. Still, it was enough to cause pain and terror. “You’re hurting me!” You exclaimed through a choke with a panic, hands flying up to try to pry the hand from your neck.

“I’m hurting you?!” Billy pressed you harder into the wall before letting you go, as if throwing or shoving you into a wall you were already flush with, “You hurt me first.”

Your brows furrowed and your hands rubbed your arm, “What the hell are you talking about?”

Billy turned and ran his hands through his hair, which now fell messily in his face. The debonair man you had reconnected with just an hour ago was now a crazed shell of who he had been.

“You left me. You broke my heart!” Billy exclaimed wildly, now using his gun to gesture from you to himself.

Your confusion was no clearer, “What? I didn’t leave you! We were together for a year and then you joined the marines! We agreed to break up. You said you didn’t want to hold me back and-”

“And you were supposed to stay!” Billy yelled, interrupting you, “You were supposed to tell me that I wasn’t holding you back! That you were gonna wait for me! That you loved me!”

“I did love you!” Hot tears streamed down your face now, “I did, Billy, and you know that! We agreed to break things off because I didn’t want to get married and have my life dictated by wherever the hell the government told me I was allowed to live! And you agreed! You agreed that it wasn’t fair that my dreams be put on hold while you were overseas.”

Billy shook the gun at you and he was nearly in tears, “You don’t get it!”

“I was gonna wait for you! I told you that I was gonna wait for you! I wrote to you every chance I got and eventually I stopped getting letters back. That’s not on me!” You defended yourself angrily. Years of heartbreak that you suppressed started coming out and maybe it was the fear of dying without letting him know how you felt that was letting the truth flow freely but you were furious that Billy had the audacity to think things ended this way. “Billy, I loved you so much.”

Billy looked away, pained, “You see… that’s the problem right there. ‘Loved’. Past tense.” He walked towards you menacingly, glock swinging with trained comfort, “You know I went to that party hoping to impress you. I just wanted to show you how far I’ve come from that little boy in the group home. How I went from that scrawny broken teenager to a decorated special forces marine.”

His hand snaked up your body and gripped your jaw tightly, “But you don’t care about any of this, do you?”

His grip was painful and when you tried to nod, you just found your head shaking minimally in his palm. “It is impressive!” You tried complimenting through smushed cheeks, “I am proud of you. But you need to understand that kidnapping is not the way to get someone to love you again. Not genuinely.”

Maybe it was a bad idea to be honest with the violent veteran who had his hand around your face, surely strong enough to break your neck with minimal effort, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him what he wanted to hear. When you saw him, you still saw that seventeen year old you were in love with, that you could tell anything to, and you hoped he was still in there.

“Billy, if you love me, you’ll move your hand, okay? You don’t hurt the people you love,” you reasoned desperately.

His grip loosened but it didn’t fall as he looked down into the crook of his elbow. His face was red, his eyes were wild. He looked back up to you as if he were pleading, “I don’t want to hurt you,” he cried, “I never did. All I ever wanted was to protect you.”

“Then let me go. Please-”

Billy shook his head and swallowed hard, forcing his own tears down. Instead of letting you go, he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours, beard scratching your chin and his hot tears mixing with your own. “I can’t do that. You understand, don’t you?”

Using his grip on your neck, he pulled your body into the dining room table and he placed a large palm on your back, pressing you face down onto the wooden table. Your eyes widened in panic as he kicked your feet apart. “Wait, wait, wait!” You begged, trying to force your body up. You stomped your heel clad feet back blindly, hoping to slam into Billy’s feet wildly. “Billy, stop! You don’t need to do this!”

He pulled your hands behind your back and used his belt to tie them together before bending over your body. Billy brushed your hair gently to the side and kissed your ear sweetly. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he whispered, “I just need to remind you how much you love you love me.”

Can I request Yandere Vlad the Impaler with the reader who's the sister of Matthias Corvinus? Knowing the history of both men the tension would be so high. Imagine like Vlad have a meeting with Matthias and met the reader for the first time and it was like love/obsession at first sight?

Hello dear. I hope you like it.

You were the third child and only daughter of John Hunyadi and Elizabeth Szilágyi. In other words, you were their precious little Princess in every sense. You had the best and most expensive of everything. Your mother was very careful about your upbringing. She did everything she could to make you a real lady. You got along well with your brothers. Especially with Matthias. The loss of your elder brother Ladislaus was a heavy blow for the family. You mourned in your mother's arms for months. After a while, Matthias took over the throne. In other words, he was now a King. You were very happy for your brother. Matthias had been protective of you since your childhood. This protectiveness especially increased when you two were alone in life. However, fate had some plans. Vlad the Impaler had visited your country for diplomatic purposes. He had noticed you during his meetings with your brother. Your brother was disturbed by Vlad's curiosity about you. Vlad immediately informed your brother that he wanted to marry you. This made your brother angry and worried. It was no secret that Vlad's fame had reached many people. Matthias politely turned down Vlad's request at first. However, this did not cause Vlad to give up. I have a few theories about what could happen next.

A war breaks out between the two countries. ~Matthias wins. ~Vlad wins.

Matthias is forced to let you and Vlad get married so that there is no war.