#I FORGOT HIS GREEN TAIL SOBS

[oddtripps]

SMEERGAL

????? ????????????????????????

[storydays]

Murder Family

(3rd POV))

"I was a good person before it all went down. I was good my entire life." A woman's voice said lowly.

*Flashback*

A school bell echoed in the are as a pale hand opened the curtains to reveal sunshine and singing birds before the hand wrote on a chalkboard in swirly cursive.

"Good morning!" chirped a blonde woman with a cheerful twirl. "I hope you all did your homework."

A boy was spun into the corner with a dunce hat into the corner as the rest of the children bounced in time with music.

"We love to do our homework and we love our teacher too!" "And when I throw these fun questions, you should know just what to do!" sand the teacher." Okay!" crowed the children.

"2+6 is....?" "8!" "And good behavior is...?" "Great!" "And it's now that part of class when we say the time of day and date." hummed the teacher, tapping her foot in tune.

"It's 9:00 in the morning!" a boy belted out.

"On January 8th!" shrugged a girl.

"The sun is all shining!" a girl with a pink bow in her hair called.

"It's your husband's birthday!" yelled the raspy voice of the kid in the dunce cap.

The class continued to sing, "La-la-la", ignoring the fact that their teacher now wasn't singing but instead was frozen.

She'd drawn the chalk so far, it was almost gone.

She sweat dropped nervously as realization dawned upon her. She turned to the class with clear distress. "Oh my stars! Stop singing children, hush up now!" The children looked at her in confusion as she leaned against her desk, with a hand to her head.

"I forgot it's my husband's birthday. I didn't get him anything special!"

"Maybe if we call him, we could do a happy birthday surprise!" the pink bowed girl perked up, smiling brightly.

*With the teacher's husband.*

Moans and panting filled the air as the occupants continued their activities. They ignored the ringing of the computer but an unused condom hit the answer button on the screen, giving the class a view of what was happening.

The blonde woman's eyes darkened as she stood up and started to leave the room, ignoring the noises coming from the computer.

"Wait! Mrs Mayberry, remember what you taught us? Think before you act." The girl with the pink bow said firmly, grabbing Mrs Mayberry's hand.

Mrs Mayberry grabbed the girl by her throat, choking her slightly before throwing her into the air. The remaining children gasped, watching with wide eyes as their teacher drove off angrily, and they rushed to the computer.

"Okay..oh shit!" Mr Mayberry gasped, seeing his wife appear suddenly. "Sweetie, what are you doing here?"

"Shut up, Gerald!" she snapped, pulling out a chainsaw and attacking the other woman. "You scream like a bitch." scowled Mrs Mayberry. The children flinched as a gunshot echoed in their ears.

"Oh, God. What have you done? She had a family!" Gerald yelled. "We could've had a family!" sobbed Mrs Mayberry. Ignoring her husband's pleas, she shot him.

"Oh, dear God. What have I done?" gasped the green eyed woman, wiping the blood off the screen, revealing her slightly manic look. "In front of you all? I'm so sorry, my children! Don't forget to work on your times tables." she sobbed for the last time, before shooting herself.

One by one, the children fainted in shock.

*Down in Hell*

"You do everything right in life, play by all the rules and still get sent down here with all the Hitlers and Epsteins of the world, after one measly massacre propelled by blind rage." Mrs Mayberry paced back and forth, as two imps sat in the office, both looking extremely bored.

One was sitting on the desk, legs crossed, and tablet in his hands, tail slowly waving in the air. This was (Y/N), and he was I.M.P.'s intel guy, looking up who exactly their targets were, and was also in charge of I.M.P's social media and finances.

Behind him, sat another imp, legs up on the desk, as his tail lazily waved behind him. This was Blitzo, the boss of I.M.P and he was also (Y/N)'s uncle.

"So that's why I'm here." sighed Mrs Mayberry, now in her demon form, a cigarette in her hand. "To get my revenge."

"I mean, was she hotter?" asked Blitzo with a smirk.

Mayberry's eye twitched in annoyance.

"I'm just saying, I had a hard time understanding the unprompted melodrama, you just spat at me tits."

The demoness growled, as she started glowing red in irritation. "What my idiot uncle means to say is, I don't think you quite understand how we operate down here. See, we take revenge on the living, and it sounds like th--"

"The core cast of your sitcom are all frankly are probably down here in Hell with you. Boop!" Blitzo poked Mayberry's nose, making her growl again.

"Not all of them. That whore survived. Now they all call her a hero."

*On Earth*

In the hospital, the cheating whore laid in her bed, covered in bandages, her hair and eye peeking out. "How does it feel to have survive such a crazy bitch?" asked one of the many reporters.

"I just hope that sick woman finally found peace." Her thick Southern accent was heavy as she bowed her head solemnly. "You are so brave! Here's two million dollars!" the reporter from earlier pulled out a check out of nowhere.

"Oh, thank you!" she smiled sweetly.

"Between the talk shows and donation bullshit, she made so much Goddamn cash. Getting shot was the best thing that happened to her!" scoffed Mayberry.

"You're a hero!" called a reporter, taking pictures as she stood at a podium.

"You're a hero, girl!" a jogger exclaimed, running with the cheater.

"My mama's a hero." the redhead boy chirped at the grocery lady. "She is a hero!" agreed the cashier.

"You're a hero!" grunted her husband as they had sex in the late hours.

"You're a hero!" praised an elderly priest as they prayed together.

"You're a hero!" cheered Mrs Mayberry's old students as she came into teach 'How to Deal With Trauma 101.'

"Oh, you're a hero!" groaned a rando as he gave her anal.

*Back in Hell*

"SHE IS NOT A HEROOOOOO!!!!!" screamed Mayberry as she slammed her fists into Blitzo's desk, eyes glowing as she glared at Blitzo and (Y/N).

Nephew and Uncle looked at each other in fear before Blitzo nodded in agreement, hand rapidly pressing a button underneath his desk. "Mmhm, yeah, my thoughts exactly..."

*Outside of Blitzo's office*

On a desk, a red flashing could be seen over a label, 'Deranged client.' Surrounding it,there were various buttons, 'Soiled My Pants, More Coffee, Horny Client, Client Giving Birth, Ghost, and Stolas.'

Ignoring the red button, stood a white haired imp, who was holding a crossbow, and shakily aiming at a photo.

"Moxxie ,stop shaking. You're gonan shoot out only hellhound." scolded a female black haired imp, as she gestured to a gray furred hellhound.

"Wow, I feel so loved here." she replied sarcastically, scrolling through her phone.

"Just take a deep breath," the female imp inhaled deeply, "And let it out." she exhaled sharply.

"But it's a family!" exclaimed Moxxie. "Under what circumstances would we ever need to kill a human family, Millie?"

"I mean, if that's what the client wants." shrugged Millie. "Maybe like a shitty dad, or a mob family, that's understandable," he narrowed his eyes and made a gestured with his hand and spoke with an Italian accent, before turning to normal.

"But to erradicate an entire innocent, seemingly innocent, in this instance, upper middle class family bloodline?!"

"Hey! You don't know they're innocent!" snapped the hellhound, sitting up and pointing at each individual person in the family. "This kid probably sets dogs on fire. Maybe this girl gets off bulling Australian kids online, and this guy, this guy definitely watches." She narrowed her eyes at the dad in the photo.

"Exactly. Humans are full of secret nasties. It's why so many of them end up here. But guilt and innocent aren't our business, Mox. Killing who we're paid to is our business. Choose a target." Millie kissed her husband's cheek.

"I just think it's a bit excessive, and we could be a bit more selective is all. " Moxxie sighed before leaning down to shoot again.

"GUYS, I want you to meet..." Blitzo kicked the door open, to reveal Mayberry, Blitzo and (Y/N) coming out the office, and startling Moxxie who fired in fright.

Everyone watched as the arrow fly all around the room, destroying a computer, the picture the hellhound was still holding and hitting a fish tank making it wobble.

The arrow continued to fly, aiming towards Mrs Mayberry when Blitzo caught it with one hand, eyes close.

"Nice catch." commented (Y/N), nodding in slight awe. "Our newest client." Blitzo said nervously, just as the fish tank fell to the ground, the electric eels and broken computer mixing, and setting the office on fire.

"Damn it Moxxie! I just bought those eels!" "Damn it, do you know how expensive those were, fatass!!" Blitzo and (Y/N) screamed angrily in unison.

*Outside*

The I.M.P. team watched as fire imps came and took the eels after putting the fire out. "Safe travels, ma'am. And don't worry, we'll get that skank in less than 24 hours or your first kill is free!" (Y/N) winked at Mrs Mayberry, activating his succubus power a bit, making the purple demon blush slightly, before the cab drove off.

"When did we start implementing that deal?" asked Moxxie.

"When you set fire to my office in front of a client, you FUCKING DIPSHIT!" Blitzo snapped, before throwing Moxxie away from him. "Now someone please tell me that fancy book is still intact!"

"You mean....our only ticket to the other side? Yeah, got it." The hellhound smirked, holding up a purple book. "That's why you're my favorite, Loonie. You get a tweat now." Blitzo smirked holding up a dog treat.

"Ew, stop." groaned the demoness. Blitzo shrugged and threw the treat up before grabbing it with his tongue like a frog.

(Y/N) gagged at the action. "You're so gross!" Loona and (Y/N) looked at their family member in disgust. Millie drew a pentagram on a nearby wall, making a portal open. "Oh, stop it. I get enough of that from my therapist." "Loona rolled her eyes before disappearing.

"Now let's go lick some ass!" exclaimed Blitzo excitedly as (Y/N) walked through the portal, eyes stuck on his tablet. "It's kick some ass...Blitzo." Millie smiled at her boss, shooting some finger guns at the older imp.

"Mine's better." Blitzo protested as he and Millie jumped through. "Oh, fuck." groaned Moxxie, following the others.

*In the human world, outside of the cheating whore's house*

"Hmm, nice digs." (Y/N) hummed, leading the way towards their target. "Her name is Martha and she's blonde with brown eyes. Says here, she's a mother of two and a wife to Ralph. Tf kind of basic names are these? Get creative, fuckers." (Y/N) muttered to himself in annoyance as he looked at the target's profile.

"She's here. Oh, this is too easy." chuckled Blitzo looking into the family's window. "Moxxie, you want this one?"

"Me?" Moxxie asked in geniune surprise.

"Yeah, this one's simple enough for you to handle," Moxxie looked into the window with a grin before his face fell in disbelief. "Just a happy mother who just got out of the hospital.." Moxxie winced, before Blitzo shrugged.

"You snooze, you lose, Mox." He aimed carefully at Martha as she looked up with doe eyes. "I got you, bitch!" "Wait, are we actually killing a family?" stressed Moxxie.

"No, don't be a puss. We're just killing a mother." Blitzo soothed. "Yeah, we're ruining a family." corrected (Y/N) from where he and Millie were playing Connect Four on his tablet, waiting for this bullshit to be over.

A sudden text from someone named Sweet Cream appeared, with all sorts of filthy emotions. Quickly followed by an, "I can't wait for you to come home so I can (censored) (censored).."

"Ooooohhhhhhh, who's Sweet Cream?" Millie teased, wagging her eyebrows. "Oh, uh, well, that's my girlfriend." (Y/N) smiled softly, cheeks a little red. "OH! Our resident pretty boy has a giirrrrrllllllfriend!!!!!!" "Millllllliiiiiiieeeeeeeee....." whined (Y/N).

*in the house

"But....Hol-Hold on, hold on. Let's just think about this...." Moxxie protested, shoving Blitzo's aim, making the older imp miss the target. The family inside gasped in alarm. "What was that, Ralphie?" Martha asked, worriedly.

"I don't know, Martha," he grinned evilly before pulling out a gun but they're gonna be tomorrow's dinner."

Martha set their dinner down, and pulled out a gun and glass of wine. She downed it before smiling just as evilly as he husband. "Alright kids, guns out!"

The family's eyes all turned red as the kids pulled guns out of thin air.

*With the imps*

Moxxie panted anxiously as Blitzo glared at him. "What the fuck was that, Moxxie?" He demanded. Moxxie burped in anxiety. "I'm sorry, they just seemed so wholesome and happy. I panicked."

"Oh, who the fuck is innocent, Moxxie? From the moment you're already a parasite leeching off your mama's tits, get the fuck over yourself, you baby dick prude!" The older screamed as he was shot in his arm. "A new hole! Scatter!"

Millie, (Y/N) and Blitzo jumped out of the bushes and disappered. The window exploded and Martha and Ralph ran out after the three. Once they were out of sight, Moxxie peeked out hesitently, and tried to make his escape, when his tail was suddenly grabbed.

*With Millie*

Millie flipped around to dodge Ralph's shots and flipped into the lake. "Where you'd go little critter? Y'all can't hide long from me!"

The black haired imp's eyes glowed as she popped under the deck, with a knife in her mouth, before jumping up to attack. Ralph tried to hit her, but missed until Millie jumped to stab him from above, leaving herself wide open for the human to smash his beer bottle against her head.

Millie weakly lifted her knife before collapsing back on her back, watching as the sky darkened to a blood red and Ralph hovering over her with a creepy smile.

*With Moxxie*

Moxxie shook himself awake, gasping seeing the two young children staring at him with wide grins and mencing red eyes. "Oh, well, hello little ones. Aren't you cute?" Moxxie cooed, trying to defuse the situation.

"It's nice to have a new critter to play with." The children spoke, the boy speaking seconds after his sister. Moxxie pursed his lips at their actions before looking around and seeing blood spatter around the room and an array human skin and organs being used as furniture.

"Ohhhh, crumbs."

*With Blitzo and (Y/N)*

The taller imps continued to run through the red forest, dodging Martha's shots. Blitzo paused to catch his breath, while (Y/N) took to the trees, to try and get the upper hand over the human pair. "I know you're hurtin', little devil!"

Blitzo hid behind a tree where (Y/N) was perched on a low branch, panting heavily. "I could make that pain go away, real quick! Just let Mama Martha put a bullet in your pretty little skull!" Martha cooed.

The two sighed in relief as she passed them, only to jump when Blitzo's phone went off, screaming like he was being murdered. "What the fuck? You didn't turn your phone on 'do no disturb'?" hissed (Y/N) as he hung upside down by his tail.

"Damn it, how do I fucking do it?" snapped Blitzo, before answering his phone. "Stolas, this is a really bad time!" "Of course, it's your fucking booty call." (Y/N) rolled his eyes, making Blitzo flick him off.

*With Stolas*

A lanky bird demon slid into his bathtub, deeper into the bubbles. "Mmm, when isn't it a bad time, Blitzy?"

"What is it?"

"I've been meaning to follow up on our last little conversation, regarding my Grimoire." Stolas lifted a finger to a bubble that revealed Blitzo looking angrily at his phone. "What did you just call me?"

"My book, Blitzy. The book I was given to do my job? That I've allowed you to use to do yours?"

*With the I.M.P.s*

"Move!" (Y/N) dropped from the tree and pulled his uncle away from the tree, just in time for Martha to shoot the spot where Blitzo just was. "I can hear you, darlin'!" she called. "Shit!" hissed Blitzo as they continued to run further away.

"Anywhoo, I've been thinking, you know I've been permitting you to access the mortal realm less than legally for some time now, but I do need it back to fufill my duties. I was thinking what if we worked out some sort of exchange? Favors for favors. Doesn't that sound enticing?" Stolas said seductively.

"Stop using your fancy-ass rich people talk, okay? I'm trying to concentrate on net getting fucked in my A!" Blitzo growled as (Y/N) took his gun, Quick Fix, and started firing back.

"Then let me keep it simple: Once a month, on the full moon, you return the book to me, followed by a night of passionate fornication, aaaaaannnd you get to keep the book all the rest of the time, hmm? Sound fair, my little imp?" Stolas popped his lips on the 'p', blushing at the thought of Blitzo absolutely destroying him.

"Fine, whatever!" Blitzo agreed, watching as (Y/N) climbed the tree again, firing into the forest, hoping he sees the blonde bimbo. "Oh, Blitzo! I'm so excited! I cannot wait to feel your slimey (censored), inside of my (censored.)..." Blitzo and (Y/N) looked at the phone in disbelief before looking at each other.

"Don't look at me, that's your hoe." (Y/N) cringed as Stolas continued to talk dirty. Blitzo grunted as he was suddenly pushed against the tree, Martha's gun digging into his throat, phone falling out of his hand. "Gotcha! So you're a little devil, huh? Come to drag me and my kin to Hell? Well, not today, Satan! Gonna send y'all back to where ya came from!" Martha grinned evilly.

Blitzo shook his head at his nephew, telling him not to move. "Fuck." Muttered (Y/N) as he turned to jump in the trees, following them closely.

*With Moxxie*

Moxxie struggled in his binds before a light and church bell in the distance echoed. "Millie!" He gasped, struggling harder. Seeing the girl, holding a knife, Moxxie narrowed his eyes.

He pushed his hooves on the table, giving him momentum to fall back on the girl. Briefly wrestling with her, he got the knife, threw his chair at the window, grabbed a rifle from one of the kids, and took off running towards his friends.

*With Blitzo and Millie and (Y/N)*

(Y/N) watched on a hidden tree branch, as the two humans tied up Blitzo and Millie to a wooden pole. Ralph laughed evilly as he started to pour gasoline on the wood surrounding the two. "I had that shot, goddamn it, Moxxie!" Blitzo grumbled.

"Satan, we return your filthy creatures back to the pits of Hell!" Martha screamed, blonde hair now wild in her manic state. "May the root of evil remain honored as we continue thy work!" With that final statement, she threw her torch onto the wood, watching it grow quickly.

(Y/N) laughed to himself, stood up and brought out his gun and reloading it. 'Humans and their silly rituals.' he thought, feeling amused at this whole thing.

His uncle felt the same as he replied sarcastically. "Yeah, that's not exactly how it works, lady. Sorry, your fire really doesn't hurt us, but you know I could fake it if that'll get your dick hard." Millie and (Y/N) continued to giggle to themselves as Blitzo motioned his tail in a jerking off motion.

"Oh, shit." Martha muttered before grinning again, holding up her gun. "Well, I'll just shoot you in your smart ass mouth." "That would be more effective." Blitzo smirked.

"Blitzo!" Millie and (Y/N) scolded in unison, the latter face palming at his uncle's idiotic nonsense.

Martha loaded her gun, and the tied up imps winced in anticipation. Martha yelped as two gun shots ran in the air.

Blitzo and Millie opened their eyes to see Martha had lost an eye, and was also shot through her heart. Her body collapsed to reveal Moxxie and (Y/N) with guns in their hands.

"Moxxie!" Millie smiled as her husband ran over to untie them. (Y/N) walked over to Martha to ensure she was dead. I mean, the bitch survived a chainsaw and a gun shot wound before. Her heart stopped beating and she laid motionless. (Y/N) took his tablet out and took a picture of the dead body before turning to help untie his uncle.

"You're not getting your goddamn paycheck for this one, Moxxie. (Y/N), you're good as always." The younger imp rolled his eyes. "Of course I am. You forget I'm in charge of our finances, so I pay myself."

(Y/N) watched as Blitzo fell to the floor, while Millie and Moxxie embraced each other. Ralph quickly fled the scene, tripping over Martha's body as he went.

"Oh, yeah! I'm fine!" grumbled the red and white imp. Moxxie rushed over to help him up. "I'm sorry, sir. I compromised our objective and put us in harm's way. It won't happen again, I promise." Moxxie apologized.

"Apology accepted!" Blitzo pulled Moxxie into a hug, before whispering lowly, "But if you ever pull a stunt like this again, I will fuck you and make (Y/N) fuck your wife." Moxxie looked at his boss, weirded out.

"All righty! Job well done, now let's get off!" Blitzo shouted, digging through his jacket. "Oh yeah, eh, give me a moment. I need to get something I left at the house."

"Okay, fine, but hurry up. Loona, we're ready to come home, dear!" He shouted into his second phone.

*With Moxxie*

Moxxie ran through the forest with a riffle in hands. He ran past Blitzo's old phone, on speaker, with Stolas still using vulgar language. "(Censored, censored, censored.)"

At the house, Ralph pulled his kids close, kissing his daughter's head.

"Don't move." Moxxie ordered. "What are you gonna do, little guy?" Ralph chuckled. "I should. You people are monsters! But you should have a chance at life and a purpose. Look at your children. They have their whole future ahead of them. You are going to face your crimes justly. I will call your Earthly authorities and they will make sure you are dealt with fairly. I'm handling this my way." Moxxie nodded in approvement.

He clicked a button on a remote and turned the TV on. Hearing the TV playing in the background, he huffed. "Oh, shit. Um, do you have a phone to summon 911?"

"Yeah, it's in the kitchen." Ralph pointed towards the kitchen with his thumb. "Then what is this for?"

"It's a universal remote. Got it for the kids." Ralph smiled lovingly at his children who smilied happily back. "Awww....." Moxxie smiled, eyes softening.

*Back with everyone else*

"Come on, (Y/N)! What's your girlfriend's nameeeeeeee?" Millie whined, shaking (Y/N)'s shoulders. He laughed before shaking her back, "You have to guesssssssss." "What you have a girlfriend? How come I didn't know this (Y/N)?! I thought we were friends." Loona huffed, from the other side of the portal.

"Is she hot?" Blitzo asked. (Y/N) raised an eyebrow and looked him up and down. "Hotter than that piece of bird ass that's chasing after you." Blitzo stumbled over his words before sticking his middle finger up. "Fuck you, nephew!" He exclaimed. Millie giggled at their interaction as Moxxie approached.

"There he is. Have a good wank-off session, Moxxie?" Blitzo asked. "Excuse me?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Look, I don't care where you cum in the living world. Just come to your job on time. Alright? See you in the office!" Blitzo smiled cheerfully before hoping into the portal, (Y/N) hopping in after him, fingers typing back as he replied to his girlfriend.

Millie cupped Moxxie's cheek. "You doing okay, sweetie?" "Better now, honey. I think I just needed a minute to process." Moxxie nodded. "You have a good heart, honey. Just a fluffy head." Millie kissed Moxxie before hopping into the portal. Moxxie went to follow when a siren caught his attention.

He turned towards the house to see multiple cops appearing at the cannibals house. "We got you surrounded!" yelled a cop through a megaphone. With that final statement, they fired a rocket at the house, killing the family instantly.

Moxxie watch wide-eyed, and looked down at the teddy bear that the girl was holding earlier. Blitzo grabbed Moxxie by his neck and dragged him through the portal.

*Back at I.M.P.*

The crew gathered around the table, wearing party hats and holding cake in their hand. Blitzo's arm was now in wrapped up and in a sling, courtesy of (Y/N)'s handiwork.

"Well, here's to another mission accomplished! And Moxxie finally learned not to fuck up." Blitzo grinned. "And killing people isn't that big of a deal if they try to kill you back." Millie nodded.

"That's messed up," Mrs Mayberry frowned, before smiling, "But I paid for it." Everyone except Moxxie started laughing.

"Fuck that family."

*At the end of the work day*

(Y/N) sighed loudly as he flopped back onto his couch. "Fucking psychos. I need a blunt." He grumbled, digging into his bag and pulling out a lighter.

Turning his lighter on, he inhaled deeply and let the smoke sit in his lungs. Exhaling slowly, he sunk into the couch, and turned on the TV just as his apartment door opened. "Hey, sweetness." he called, lazily waving his hand in the air.

"Hey, baby." called a velvet voice. A pink skinned demoness leaned over the couch to smile down at (Y/N). "How's my beautiful Verosika?" He asked as she sat down next to him, throwing her long legs over his lap. He took her heels off and started massaging his feet as she inhaled the blunt.

"Better, now that I'm home with Hell's sexiest assassin." They continued to pass the blunt back and forth when (Y/N)'s stomach growled loudly. "Ha, sounds like you had a long day. Take out?"

"More like I'm gonna eat you out." (Y/N) mumbled, getting between her legs. "Chinese sound good after?"

"Yes, whatever you want, princess. But can I please eat you out now?" He begged, pressing a kiss to her thigh. Verosika giggled, leaning back.

"Yes, Daddy."

[fangirlvibez]

The Bradshaw son and Seresin daughter - part 2

Characters: Bradley Bradshaw x female!OC Madison Ella Hanscott, Son!OC Nicolas Peter Bradshaw, Jake Seresin x female!OC Quinn Kelsell, Daughter!OC Hazel Alexandra Seresin, Son!OC Benjamin Jacob Seresin

Warnings: in this chapter: mention of teenage pregnancy, mention of abortion, slut shaming, mention of taking advantage. (Let me know if I forgot a warning)

Summary of the story: The 16 year old daughter of Jake Seresin gets pregnant. The dad: the 18 year old son of Bradley Bradshaw. How will the dads react to their kids becoming teen parents?

A/N: English is not my first language, so if there is any spelling or grammar errors: please let me know

Previous part - next part - masterlist

His eyes wander back to the pregnancy test before finding his daughters eyes again. He can see tears coming to her green eyes. “You’re not pregnant are you?” He asked.

The room filled with silence. The only sound you could hear was cutlery hitting plates and the exciting tail of Sparky. Slowly Quinn also turned to her daughter, who only got more tears in her eyes. The young girl let out a sob. “I’m so sorry, we used protecting. I swear” she cried. Putting her head in her hands. Nick didn’t dare to look at his girlfriend or any of her family members.

Jake stood up, his protective father side coming out. “Who’s the father?” He asked with a strict voice. Hazel didn’t dare to look up and answer him. She had put her hands down again and was staring at her plate. She started to count the left-over peas on her plate. The Bradshaw parents share a worried look. Maybe they should leave. This wasn’t their place to be. At least that is what they thought.

“I asked: who is the father Hazel?” Jake stood with full body at the end of the table. Arms crossed, staring at the side of his daughter face. The Seresin kids haven’t seen their dad this strict and angry since they were little kids. Since Hazel was 9 and Benjamin was 7. When they were playing in their dads office, running around the desk and accidentally bumping into it. The shock of the desk made the coffee mug spill its content all over important documents. Important documents which Jake had worked on for at least 3 weeks. It was the first time the kids had heard their dad yell as loud as he could. He never before had yelled this loud to his kids. Not when Benjamin playing soccer in the house and broke the TV. Not when Hazel drew all over the walls with permanent marker and not even when the kids scratched drawings into his new car. Jake Seresin always tried to be the loving father he never had. He had given them 2 months of house arrest. The day after he apologized to his kids for his yelling. Hazel doubted that he would apologize after the dinner for his strict voice.

“Hazel.” Even Bradley was shocked with the strictness of Jakes voice. “I’m not asking again. Who is the father?” For a moment it got silent again. Jake was still staring at his daughter. Quinn was also looking at her, anticipating on her answer. Benjamin was petting Sparky, who wondered off to him when Bradley stopped petting him. All Benjamin wanted to do was leave to his room. Nick was still staring at his plate. Still scared to meet anyone eyes. He knew Hazel was going to say his name in less than a minute. All he hoped was that hell wouldn’t break loose when both pair of parents will hear his name come out of the girls mouth. Bradley and Madison were holding hands under the table. Feeling bad for the young girl. Not knowing that that feeling will be turned up side down in the next 10 minutes.

“Nick” a quiet voice said. “What did you say?” Jake asked, hoping he heard the wrong name coming from his daughter. Hazel looked up into her father eyes. The green eyes that matched her green ones. “It’s Nick” she repeated. For the third time that evening it got silent in the room. The whole table turned to Nick now. “Is that true?” Madison asked her son. She was shocked with how quite her voice sounded. Nick looked up at his parents and slowly nodded his head. “Yes, we’ve ..” before he finished his sentence, he turned to Hazel. Their eyes meet and Hazel nodded. Their parents should know. “We’ve been dating for over a year” he told the table.

“I can’t believe this” Jake said. Hazel could hear the disappointment in his voice. She was mentally preparing for what her father had to tell her. How she was irresponsible and reckless. But her head shot up when the words came out of his mouth. “I can’t believe you Bradshaw. Your son took advantage of my daughter!” He was turned to his best friend. Bradley looked up at his supposed to be best friend. “My son?” He asked. “Who says my son did something wrong? Maybe it was your daughter who couldn’t shut her legs” he said slowly standing up as well. Hazel shared a look with Nick. How can this happen? Now their dads where fighting. “Are you calling my daughter a slut?” Jake said stepping closer to Bradley. The mustached man let out a chuckle. “Have you seen the way she dresses? No 16 year old should wear that unless they want some attention.” Hazel looked down at her outfit. She was wearing a t-shirt dress. More tears started to form in her eyes. Did people really think that about her? That she was a slut?

Nick couldn’t believe what he heard. Did his dad really slut-shame his girlfriend? He wanted to tell his dad off. He wanted to tell him to shut up. But he knew he couldn’t, it would only cause more drama. “Oh really?” Jake asked. The two men were almost standing chest to chest now. The mothers were worried for their husbands. They could start fighting any moment now. “Maybe you should worry that your adult son slept with an underage girl” Jake took a step closer to Bradley. “Your son is a pervert” he slowly said. Bradley saw red and so was Jake. “Your son ruined my daughters life. Pregnant in high school.” “Your daughter ruined my sons life. He was going to go to the naval academy. How can he become a pilot when he needs to look after a baby?” Bradley voice started to get louder. Jake scoffed. “You need to have skill before becoming a pilot.” Bradleys fist tighten at his side. Ready to strike Jake in the face.

Madisons eyes grew wide. “Okay! Maybe we should sit down and talk this over” she rushed out of her chair in between the men. She held her husbands hand and guided him back to the chair. Quinn took Jakes hand from where she was sitting and guided him back to his chair. “Kids? Go sit in the living room for a little bit while we talk this over” Madison told her son and the Seresin kids. “What? Be we already tal..” Nick started to say. “I wasn’t asking. Go.” Madison said strictly, staring into her sons eyes. Benjamin didn’t hesitate before bolting out of his chair and running up the stairs to his room. Sparky following him, sensing that Nick wasn’t in the mood to play with him. Nick sighed and stood up from the chair following his girlfriend to the living room.

The couple sat next to each other on the couch. “Do you think I dress like a slut?” Nick turns to his girlfriend. “What? Absolutely not. I’m sure my dad didn’t mean it. They…, they just were trying to protect their kids” he said, reaching out for his girlfriends hand. Hazel nodded and took his hand in hers. “I’m sorry” she said after a moment of silence. “I should have trown the test away in the outside bin instead of the one in my room” Hazel yet again apologized to her boyfriend. “Don’t be sorry. If I had closed the door behind me, Sparky wouldn’t have been able to go in your room and go to the trash. I should be apologizing for the mess he probably made in your room.” Hazel let out a dried chuckle.

Minutes pasts, which felt like hours before Quinn came into the living room. The couple dropped each others hands when they noticed the older woman standing in the doorway. “Please come” she said with a gently voice only she could have in a stressful situation like this. It was probably the doctor in her that kept her this calm.

Nick and Hazel each took a seat next to their parents on the opposite side of the table. Jake sighed. “We talked this situation through. You guys are young and this was a mistake you both made.” He said. Hazel was looking at him. He had his fingers locked and his hands were laying on the table. He was staring at his fingers. Bradley took the word now. “Since you are still kids. We decided it’s best for us to make a decision.” Madison put her hand on Bradleys arm, encouraging him to keep talking. “We decided it is best for you guys to..” the teenagers looked at the older man. Hazel let out a loud sob again and Nick saw red when they heard the decision their parents made. “For you guys to get an abortion”

Taglist: @confusedpimp @dempy @michael-loves-chickens @massivedetectivestudent @starkleila @mirrorball-6 (if your username is crossed out it means I couldn’t tag you) (let me know if you want to be tagged)

[crimsonblackrose]

.

Demetri sneaking into the dojo going oh man I'm glad you're not Johnny he's a little evil and unhinged. But who he gets is Kreese. Which btw, Kreese, pretty sure no one officially made you a sensei yet. Which means, and I didn't notice this before Kreese, not an actual teacher, punches Demetri, a prospective student, in the face and never tells Johnny.

Demetri I have this thing about personal space which the other cobras are just going to have to get over.

Also demetri: Immediately goes up to a strange man and puts his hand on his arm and tells him why his tattoo is wrong.

I was trying to figure out how Kreese got away with punching Demetri who complains and tells everyone about everything, but technically I guess Demetri (in Kreese's defense to a rigged jury) could say Demetri invaded his space first.

Demetri Kreese isn't even wearing a gi. You literally walked up to a big buff guy with a tattoo. This is one of the dumbest things you've done. Along with determining Johnny, who pulled his punch and didn't actually hit you was worse then Kreese who does actually hit you.

At least Demetri high tails it out of there. He's like the canary in the coal mine, Johnny didn't kick him out just sort of tried to get him to stop undermining him by showing that Johnny could kick all their asses but pulled his moves so he didn't actually do it. So demetri sort of hung around tentatively. But Kreese shows up and Demetri literally runs out of there saying 'shit shit shit' which means Cobra Kai is no longer safe. The safety of your local karate dojo is based on how much it can handle Demetri. If it can't handle Demetri then it's no longer safe for students and needs to be audited.

Robby being very smart. Defense when's championships but people show up for the offense/blood.

Sam: says plot of episode, Robby agrees it's a good idea. Demetri somewhere sobbing.

Sam calls it a banana boat.

Daniel is fixing cars not teaching karate.

Daniel's first job selling cars was a used car lot in Tarzana where the owner thought he was 'god's gift to sales.' Daniel outsold him in his first month using Miyagi techniques.

Johnny has a red metal tool box, Daniel's is sort of a steel green.

See I'd write down all of Kreese's military stories but he admits later that he lied about most of it. But he is trying to win over the students with his stories while Johnny isn't in. And he's still in civilian clothes so he's not a sensei yet, still just hanging around. I do appreciate though how it shows Aisha and Eli hanging on his every word while Miguel is like this doesn't sound right. Because it shows that Eli picks Kreese over Johnny while Miguel stays with Johnny.

I forgot that the storage room was part of Johnny's space not the owners. He just didn't need it so he didn't ask for it to be cleaned out. It's been 6 months since the rent was raised via Daniel's revenge plot....which oh boy a lot has happened in 6 months. Also he's raising it again? Oof

Theres back doors from the storage room that go outside.

Johnny has bad credit, thus the handshake deal.

Miguel out here fact checking Kreese's geography. Which surprise's me none of the other kids are since they're all nerds. They do at least fact check their senseis most of the time, but thankfully the one it's safe to do so with, Johnny.

Johnny learning that he has to specify how they 'fall in' in neat rows and lines because of that first time he got more students.

Gingertwins being actual siblings....

I forgot stingray was in this group and Johnny does say he's a bit old for a class for teens. I do think maybe if he got more adults he'd make a class for adults, because he does keep Stingray due to money of course. His mom doesn't charge him rent so he has cash to burn.

Tory!!!!!!!!

Aisha is delighted.

Little miss hot shot.

She strikes first with a kick to his chest. Which just I think delights Miguel. Plus he's teaching while they're sparring (so proud of Miggy) Close the gap, you're telegraphing, don't let me see it coming.

"Tory with a y" I guess means she's supposed to be the Ali for the teen group like how Miggy's introduction was supposed to be Daniel-esq.

Daniel (I don't know your middle name) LaRusso, what the heck?! THE BANANA BOAT DOESN'T HAVE SEATBELTS?!

At first I was like why isn't Robby wearing a seatbelt before realizing there are no seat belts. I get that we love this car but putting your students in it? Really?

Daniel: Not cool enough to get the kids so I'll appeal to the parents at the beach to be concerned about their students safety.

Which okay, I get it. Daniel's been the sounding alarm on Cobra Kai since the 80s and he's probably thinking the way Hawk hit robby and then Miguel hit robby that up next somewhere in the group is a Mike Barnes and that it's only a matter of time before Silver shows up (fair).

But from the outside and the actual truth and facts: it looks like Johnny took a bunch of nerds and kids that were being bullied, trained them, gave them confidence, took them to the all-valley where they won and then let them show off at the all-valley everything they learned which included a girl kicking ass. Like...Kreese punching Demetri should be the true sounding alarm but Daniel doesn't have that information. Kreese being a bad influence and warning the parents like hey if he's actually teaching your kids pull your kid out, because he tried to kill the current sensei and did xyz. But Johnny? Daniel doesn't have a win against Johnny because so far, again, pranks: dick on billboard and upstaging him at valley fest.

And yes Hawk and Miguel were bad. Not only did they beat up Robby at the all-valley, but you gotta realize all the parents were there and they saw that for themselves. But also Miguel did hit Sam which will of course be a mark against him in everyone's book, but it was also an accident.

Oaks on the Beach country club. So I guess Encino Oaks has multiple locations for members?

So clearly Daniel decided early on that he'd meet Amanda here since she's already here, but didn't tell the kids. He's essentially kidnapped Robby again. He was supposed to be just teaching Robby karate and then just put him in a car and didn't tell him the plan or what they were doing other than going to the beach. Daniel, you gotta stop kidnapping Robby.

Jack Durocher parent of kids at the school. from a later scene the kids name is Kevin. I don't remember which kid this is. Apparently he's always on his phone which means maybe he's not a cobra kai student?

Robby's resume: Oaks on the Beach Country Club, LaRusso Auto, Tech company stealing computers. For a 16 year old he's had a lot of jobs. How very Catch me if you can of him. (book anyway I haven't read the movie so I don't know if it's the same but essentially this guy lies about his age starting young and just keeps grifting on people)

So either Robby lied about his age or Encino Oaks hires 15 year olds.

Sam and Aisha being not on good terms again is interesting. Pride and Prejudice has taken over the teen route now. Aisha complains about Sam to Tory and Tory is now team Aisha.

A guy at the mall grabbed Tory, and after meeting her landlord, her bracelet as protection is very real and very sad.

Tory has taken kickboxing lessons

She literally joined because of Aisha's performance at the All-Valley.

Ngl this comes off in the most flirty tone ever. Or sarcastic. But based off friendship we're going with flirty.

Lol Aisha says she poked little holes in the blindfolds, which makes sense since they had even less time to practice that then Robby and Sam had to practice theirs.

Aggravated assault is a year in prison and a 10,000fine according to demetri for his punch. Honestly everyone in this show is lucky no one presses charges on anything.

It also makes me wonder if Demetri mentioned that it was Kreese not Johnny and if he just thinks that makes Kreese cooler. Demetri apparently got stitches in his nose from Kreese's punch.

Okay so Demetri did tell Eli that it was Kreese who hit him because Eli tells Miguel that Demetri couldn't handle training with Kreese, and just marks it off as not cobra kai material not, random dude whose been at our dojo assaulted my friend.

I am proud that Miguel actually tells Johnny his concerns that Demtri got roughed up by Kreese and that his stories don't match up. I.e. Kreese is hitting students when you're not around and lying.

Aisha want to go to the beach? Reality: country club.

What I am realizing is that Daniel is going after rich parents rather than general parents. And Johnny's dojo is open for whoever wanders in. Which Daniel's arguably is too, but he's targeting a very specific sect of the population which is kind of his own anti-thesis even if these are the people he knows.

So Aisha and Sam are fighting because of the valley fest, a friendship since 3rd grade. A friendship Sam didn't defend when everyone was bullying Aisha and Aisha didn't really defend back...Robby here with the go talk to her. (I don't know why Aisha is mad about it, they clearly won the Valley fest upsurping. I guess because Sam's dad is making targeted campaigns at Aisha's dojo? Which is the dojo that taught her confidence and gave her friends after her only friend abandoned her to bullies. Ah, right. Snakes in the grass, the very Tom Cole advertisement campaign. Btw did Johnny's return shot kicking a bonsai actually get sent to the internet?

I think that would hurt, your best friend abandoned you, you still think her dad's cool but then the dojo you're in he starts calling snakes in a grass and trying to usurp which makes it feel like the dad you were defending also hates you all of a sudden without knowing any context.

Aisha takes the last piece of pretzel bread.

Marshall is the name of the manager at this club and he recognizes Robby.

Again I love Amanda. She shuts down Marshall very firmly then sits with Robby to listen to what he has to say. So far I think she's really the only clear headed listening character we've got.

Kreese out here threatening people over the phone, threatening war and to burn the place down. He says he's at the Universal City Sheraton.

Johnny's keys are different. The lucky rabbit's foot is new. He used to have some firebird logo which I guess was for his firebird. Though even before he got the dojo he's had a lot of keys around. It's also not to safe for him to just keep his keys lying around, pretty sure at any moment Kreese could've made a duplicate.

Daniel's drinking a Cornoa

Aisha's mom is named Sandra

I love that Sandra filmed it, such a proud mom. Which again goes to prove that they got permission and told people they were doing it.

Tory swiped a bottle of Vodka and Sam immediately tells her she shouldn't have done so. Which as Aisha's guest, Aisha should've probably done that.

There's no way Kreese doesn't know Johnny's following him. He's in a custom cobra kai car. It's like trying to tail someone in an oscar myer winer mobile.

Daniel's sad little "Are you my mr. miyagi?" walk to the tune of that little duck looking for it's mother.

Sam gave up on Aisha because of Tory...who she doesn't know, after a halfway decent conversation. A girl who wants to drink and party, the same way Yasmine and Moon always did? The same Yasmine who hit a car and then never told anyone about it (Yes Johnny popping up out of nowhere was probably terrifying but still)

It is on Sam to immediately blame Aisha's new friend on her mother's wallet going missing. Yes she lifted a vodka and made a crack about stealing the silverware, but she didn't say anything about stealing anything from specific people. Maybe that's too nuanced, but I feel like Tory would steal from a rich place rather than individuals. And she stole a vodka and then they left to drink, why would she then try to steal from a bag? LIke two places at once?

Sam immediatly goes for Tory's bag and tries to grab it and Tory defends herself and looks horrified that Sam fell into the food tray.

That was totally an accident.

Aisha is still mvp for checking on sam and then when sam spits back venom tells her she shouldn't have accused her of something like that.

Johnny you're car isn't even quiet, and how'd you follow Kreese from this angle as he's walking towards you from the other end of the building.

West Hunter Street (perfect name for a place Kreese is staying) Baptist church

That's a look Robby. I'm pretty sure your dad has a sweater in those colors. Also the checkboard emo/goth/punk pants with the beachy shirt look. Looks like their hiding spot is under the stairs to the beach.

Robby ready to film on a moments notice. He's been so ready for a fight to film all day.

I always remember that Robby doesn't win the fight, I always forget a third random person pops up with a paddle and hits him upside the back of the head.

John's roommate broke the lock off his footlocker. I never know how much of Kreese's life is truth and how much isn't. Like he's faked his own death twice, he lies about serving after the Vietnam war, whose to say he actually is living here? Because there's no way mr. everyone is an enemy you can never drop your guard didn't notice Johnny's terrible tailing job.

Father and son getting in choke holds. Johnny would've taught Robby how to escape that first thing.

Daniel meanwhile skips the stairs and jumps off side to get there. Which, btw, is now Daniel fighting a bunch of teenagers to save a kid in trouble just like Johnny did first thing in season 1 and Daniel and the police took Kyler's side in that case. Difference, there were more teenagers harassing Miguel and Kyler and his dudes didn't have a knife.

I'm surprised with Daniel's knee he could do that drop, but I guess...the injury fully healed?

Trey to Johnny: sarcastic-mean but then shuts up when Johnny snaps back at him. Trey to Daniel: Grandpa. ...So does Trey think Daniel is older than Johnny? Also he totally knew previously that Daniel was the karate guy, so why would he be like yes let me fight Daniel?

Daniel: come on lets go

What about all the stolen wallets? What about Robby's phone? It doesn't show them grabbing any of them. Also did anyone see to Robby's head wound?

Kreese's decor is a picture of himself (not sure if the flag and cross are his or if it's just american church mainstays)

oh he has a cork board can't read any of it though looks like an old signed pin up

An old war buddy offered him a job but he felt it was a hand out. So that must've been silver maybe after tkk3 Silver offered him a job at Dynatox?

Kreese says for the last 10 years he's been living in places like this, so not necessarily this church.

Kreese: I heard about the all-valley and thought there was my second shot...you mean your third shot? He also conveniently left out that he did travel and go to Tahiti (that is where Silver sent him right?) he just downplayed that to go straight into the army psychiatrists said I couldn't re-enlist and I went here and there rather than accept any help until now. "I feel like a broken man Johnny. I don't think i can be fixed."

True. You're still a scheming snake, but you also picked exactly the right way to get Johnny to let you coach.

You gotta do things my way, does that work for you?

Johnny you gotta stop doing handshake deals, no one lives up to them. Every handshake deal you've done gets betrayed.

That sure is a way to hold a hand after a hand shake. It's weird Kreese, very weird. Gives off friendly grandpa atmosphere and very touched rescued old man, whose grateful (But doesn't accept handouts,) yet at the same time like you're going to try and break Johnny's wrist.

Johnny looks so confused and unsure how to handle comforting Kreese. But he goes for the pat on the back.

lol is that Kreese's footlocker? How'd the guy break in? Like what are you hiding in there Kreese?

Sam and Miguel parallel over trying to get through to someone and being left ignored/on read.

Looks like it's a new day and Robby's head still hurts. Did they ever take him to the doctor? Or we just skipping that because Daniel and Amanda are not legal guardians and would have to explain that they do know where to find Johnny but Daniel refuses to tell Johnny.

Robby: this video could go viral and we could get more students. Daniel changing his mind again: Miyagi-do is protecting yourself and others not for the credit. We let those who need us find us.

Demetri shows up and immediatly points out how confusing it is to figure out where to go and how to get their attention. Through the gate, the doorbell? And the immedatily : How much does it cost to maintain a koi pond in California's drought.

It is at this point that Johnny gives Kreese the title sensei. Which he never should've done, but he's all hear for giving people another chance. Which is very sweet, but then everyone tramples all over it and generally doesn't give him one.

Miguel are you sure? (good kid) Johnny: I'm helping my sensei whose down and out and Demetri makes a mountain out of a molehill so that fight was probably nothing right? Gotta help support our homeless veterans how we can. Not realizing said veteran is going to usurp him. Kreese also immediatly tells them all his plan, that you make your enemy think you're retreating and that's when you strike the hardest. Which Hawk loves and Miguel goes uhhhh sensei you're a little gullible, this guy is going to steal your dojo. We are all in danger.

[thistledown-au-warriors]

black leopard's grief - part 1

< Part 1 || Index || Part 3 >

The sound of splashing water broke Black Leopard out of her daze. As if she suddenly had her spirit placed back into her body, she stumbled to a stop before her paws touched the slippery wooden surface of the twoleg bridge. She blinked, taking in her surroundings like a kit whose eyes opened the first time, overwhelmed as rational thought trickled back into her mind. 

The river that separated ThunderClan from RiverClan stretched in front of her - a hard boundary for thick woodland dwellers, save for sparse sets of stepping stones and the decaying bridge twolegs had built seasons ago. Unless, of course, you could swim. As all RiverClan warriors did. Now that she'd taken in her surroundings, Black Leopard became aware of how close to the border she was. After quickly scanning the area with her senses, she sighed and retreated to a secluded spot by the undergrowth where she could watch the stream that split from the river. She'd found herself at this spot several times in her life, as if it called to her whenever she felt isolated from her Clan - even if she was the one isolating herself now. She wasn't the first mother to lose kits, but not many mothers were the kit of a dead elder and a leader turned kittypet and whose kit was accused of treason by his own uncle.

With a snarl, she swiped at the ferns with outstretched claws and started tearing out the leaves from the center. Rather than leaving it uneven, she plucked out the leaves with meticulous precision, trying to pour all of her thoughts and feelings into the task. Trying not to sob. Trying to not lose herself to her anger. Trying not to imagine Tiger's Claw or Frost Shine as the fern.

With her tail and claws, she tossed the mess she'd made out into the stream, proceeding to tear at another piece of fern with even more focus this time. The scent of moisture and sap slowly clouded her senses, and she quickly forgot to pay attention to the border. She didn't notice the rustle and splash as a figure walked up to her.

"Black Leopard? Is that you?"

The molly arched her back, hissing at the origin of the voice that startled her. Immediately, as she recognized the tom in front of her, her ears flattened further, and she cursed at StarClan. Loud Belly of RiverClan, brown tabby fur dripping with water from the river up to his chest, stood with tail raised and hackles smooth. His green eyes stared at her not with the aggression of a rival warrior, but with surprise and concern. Such a familiar green.

With a sigh and a flick of her tail, Black Leopard looked away, forcing her pelt to smooth. "You startled me." She growled.

"I can see that." Loud Belly replied. "I thought I caught your scent, then thought someone was fighting…" he trailed off, lowering his gaze to the ferns by her paws.

Black Leopard shifted her weight. She didn't want to see him, of all cats. Not now. And not like this. It would have been better if a whole patrol of angry RiverClan warriors had come to confront her, than the one warrior who wouldn't fight her. "It's just me. Are you alone?"

He nodded. "My hunting patrol is further downstream, and they're looking for land prey." His expression went warmer. "How are you, Black Leopard?"

She sniffed. "You can see how." The black molly padded closer to him, trying to seem dignified. She regarded him with a suspicious expression, catching sight of his ribs beneath his sodden pelt. "You look hungry." She stated flatly, trying not to get caught up on how much his eyes were like Raven Shadow's.

Loud Belly chuckled half-heartedly. "I thought you wouldn't go for such an easy joke with me…"

She sighed impatiently. "You thought correctly. I do not have a sense of humor, or the patience to pretend I do." Her tail lashed. "You're simply looking like you're having skinny meals. Have the twolegs not left your territory yet?"

Loud Belly had told her before that twolegs had the strange habit to set up dens in RiverClan land for the warmest part of greenleaf. It didn't happen every season-cycle, and their numbers always varied. They'd steal fish and scare away prey, not to mention their kits would try to grab any warriors they laid their eyes on. The thought always made her skin crawl. Having the twolegplace and thunderpaths at their borders was bad enough.

The RiverClan tom's smile faded. "They did. They made a mess of our land, and of the river. And we… we weren't able to get Sedge Whisker back."

Relaxing her stance, Black Leopard gave him a sympathetic look. Sedge Whisker was his littermate. Last Gathering, before Broken Tail made his outrageous claims, Loud Belly whispered to her that his sister had been captured by the twolegs while on patrol. "I'm sorry." She muttered to him. At least she's alive for them to turn into a kittypet. She'll never know hunger again, and will live to be able to return to you someday. Black Leopard turned to groom the fur on her back so the other cat couldn't see the ugly expression she was beginning to make.

Loud Belly took that moment to groom out the water from his own pelt. The silence that she'd once enjoyed sharing was now very uncomfortable to Black Leopard. She needed to be alone, not meet with the father of her kits.

"How are Dusty Earth and Raven Shadow, by the way?" Loud Belly meowed at least, nearly earning a whimper of despair from Black Leopard. She didn't look at him, and he went on. "I haven't seen them patrolling in a while, and I know Shadow Broken Tail was giving ThunderClan a hard time. I hope that… their training hasn't gotten too rough?"

Black Leopard knew that her silence and refusal to look at the tom said multitudes. She was worrying him. He has to know , she thought. Her jaws parted as she turned to meet his eyes, but words refused to come out as she locked eyes with the same green shade as her little tom's. The same thin muzzle. He just lost his sister, should I really share this with him now?

The pain of loss scorched at her heart once more, and she wanted it to turn to ice. So it'd hurt less. 

His wasn't a real loss anyway. 

What's the harm in him knowing his son is dead? 

Better sooner than later.

"Raven Shadow is gone." She choked out, lip curled, as she doubled over with the way those words felt like thorns raking at her ears and throat.

Loud Belly stared back at her, stunned. "Gone?" He echoed.

Black Leopard rested her forehead on the warm earth between her paws. "It was because of that star-damned Broken Tail. He stole kits from one of the queens and Raven Shadow was made to feel responsible… he went to track down the kits in ShadowClan land… and died for it."

A stillness filled the air around the two cats, save for the consistent gurgling of the river. Then, the sound of a couple pawsteps, and soon the weight of Loud Belly's long furred tail rested on her back. His movements were hesitant - they hadn't touched like this since they realized that their relationship wasn't truly romantic. But there was still a level of comfort she couldn't deny in feeling his warmth in the places their pelts brushed, and she found herself leaning on him as her head slowly lifted from the ground. Together they gazed quietly at the shimmering waters. 

"How's Dusty Earth?" Loud Belly asked quietly.

"Moving on." Black Leopard replied hoarsely. It pained her, but her kits hadn't been close. Dusty Earth wanted nothing to do with his brother once they became apprentices, preferring the attention of Sand Storm and Red Tail, and later on of Tiger's Claw's little friend group. She was happy he had a bigger support system than she did, but didn't consider Pale Tail and Dark Pine to be good role models for her son. Should've gotten involved sooner.

Frost Shine's words rung inside her mind. "If you had raised that son of yours better, maybe I wouldn't have to!" Black Leopard's claws sunk into the earth.

Loud Belly was quiet for a moment. "Raven Shadow was really brave, doing what he did. I… while you were the only parent he ever had, everything I saw and heard of him made him seem like a fine warrior in the making. Now that he's among our ancestors, I hope he knows I'm glad to be his kin."

She didn't look at him. "He was named a warrior. In his vigil."

"I'm glad. He deserves to have gone to StarClan with that honor. I'll tell Leopard Fur I'll guard camp tonight so I can sit vigil for him too." He touched his nose to her ear. "I'm sorry you had to deal with this alone."

"I'm not alone. I have my Clan." She spat, glaring at him defensively. It's not true, I am alone. But she was too proud to admit it.

He blinked. "Of course." A chill washed over Black Leopard as Loud Belly withdrew his tail from her shoulders and stepped away from her. "I must go now, before my patrol misses me. I'll try to make sure they'll leave you alone, but it's best if you don't hang around the border for too long." 

She watched him as he padded into the stream, his paws splashing the water. A pang of regret hit her. They weren't mates, but she still wished she could share his comfort over the little he knew of Raven Shadow. She remembered his surprise and delight when she informed him that Raven Shadow managed to catch an adder and a crow all on his own. How he always made sure to give a nod to his kits in Gatherings as he passed by them, and how he'd have one ear turned towards whatever tale Raven Shadow was spinning to the other apprentices.

Before Loud Belly disappeared into the reeds, he turned around and dipped his head to her. She gave him a respectful nod in turn, before staring at her paws. Her throat felt tight.

They were friendly, nothing more.

Only Raven Shadow now lived beyond the borders.

[shdwstorm]

Who knew that humanity cleaning up their act would result in the old gods returning and bestowing magic on the earth again. It was quite the shock of course, and it nearly threatened to upend the delicate balance we finally achieved, but it all sort of managed to work itself out

Sort of.

I brushed my hair to the side, inspecting the gills on my neck and scattered scales across my skin. They appeared about a week ago when I transformed into a mermaid. It wasn't that big of a change since I only got a tail when fully submerged in water, but others weren't so lucky.

The door to my shop swung open and I turned to see a teen girl, maybe around 16, with piercing yellow eyes and a plastic bag in hand. "Hi! Welcome to the Sea Sew. What can I do for you?"

The girl looked close to tears. "D-do you think there's anything you can do for this?" She dumped out the contents of the bag, which contained a heap of forest green fabric which I could only assume used to be a dress.

"Oh dear," I muttered, inspecting the shredded pieces. "It looks like an animal got to this. What happened?"

She choked back a sob. "Prom is in two weeks a-and last night my friends and I went shopping for our dresses, but I forgot it was the full moon a-a-and I transformed and completely ruined the dress! It was so perfect and the store won't take it back and I don't know what else to do," she whimpered, holding back tears.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. You're a werewolf?" I asked, and she nodded. "Well, I'm not sure I can fix this--" she broke down crying "-- but I think I can make a replacement that'll be ready with plenty of time before prom," I added quickly. "If you could show me the picture of what the dress looked like before, I could make the new dress indistinguishable from the old one. And if you want, I could also make it out of a stretchier material that won't shred as easily if you transform while wearing it."

The girl took several deep breaths to compose herself. "Th-thank you so much," she managed to say.

"Of course!" I replied. "I'm always happy to help. And, if you don't mind me asking, are you doing anything to help manage the transformations?"

She sniffled. "I-Ive just been trying to lock myself in the basement before the full moon so I don't hurt anyone."

"Well, if you'd like, there's a few werewolf packs I know about that I can get you in touch with. They can help you better manage the changes. Only if you're up for it."

She managed to smile. "I'd love that. Thank you."

I beamed. "Always happy to help!"

Magic has returned to the world, and people all over the world have reported transforming into magical creatures. You are the owner of a tailoring business, and you have since gained an influx of new customers who need help modifying their clothes to fit their new bodies.

[libidomechanica]

Draw me my Camel tumbling cold, my added with awe of otherd freeze

A sonnet sequence

               1

Beside! Or will not to my head is head, ye snufft and dried day, ye was where a ridge thing a poison’d sold. Soul and lash’d blind over the sun did an odour ago, on alone—in some night, blind, so the rain and sadly present myself art so greet: I hate’ from the fierce bubbles. Or the uttermost, he queen’s unders, and you were, left to tell, nor wilt thou fills together dumb lactation, poor dear vanishment inventide of the pen down, and told her hae distemperate and unmated and no child in Vienna. Draw me my Camel tumbling cold, my added with awe of other’d freeze.

               2

In the other fades into golden moss. In verses of stars, and why? From lang ere was now, what never quite, wi’ me? Lass of Being dewy-warm with her and cut of the think, where, saying all see me again, and skill, full Pity as all his hope of stranges in the turn’d in hand she silly little before esteem. The bonie faire perfect’st man who brood aboon to allay my face, the suffocate away. Her sighs course. Kill and me fitful smile, or flakes the will not and all the dreams together to dwells within me them in pleasant name once thee pure, and unmated after-commissing?

               3

It the owls began to disture heare brooding delightly me, like a small, shells; yet that meanewhile green embracing, and said heard of through, oft saw fairest bud. For eyes to choose our found as from strait compliment, since its mouthed into my hear a cold and me, a wooded o’er the house with paints! Of force. Nor a man, while Ilion forgot to mend, it’s faire, a king and came once more, a tentious woman, and there like Vulcan’s lips, thus did fly with his lost, and after the poor choice of commence: such we in her limbs are youth; his thicket? And nervy tail wars to even now, far day. They dance be.

               4

Go outward to the royall be itself a hazy wood pigeon the air, not not seems, I could giving sound, of thereunto a world; by white! My graces in this; and the babe’s fat another’s Helicon! As I by you art soft care na by. Thy signs and sweet tomb, as if, in when a longer. In when thee, I freesing and stars doesn’t care my Camel! Let us seen them sweet which did threefold, day by dead. And the eye wadna been. Wart. The boat, my songs I will ever- silence thee, the cried shapes, but the while I lit the traced hare: how that rauishing like a near. And behest, her visions parting.

               5

And was in one I hope to the sun, as with ends the hies, but when mad Eurydice is with it; or else that price we once morning; when I am talk in the cowslips part sae shy; for than uncertain them tame; but meeting no sorrow tak’ my absent through buried as from their joy; she shore. I thou wilt thou, ten-times? It foxes cramm’d with head; I lovely, and from this mild, favour tea with she high Hall-garden blades, and has bonny lasts to Betty fond on the wove, dancing, salve which in the boatmen, throat, in sometimes or will gifts, nor with your dwarf return to pardon misprisions that writes vnfit.

               6

To wretch’d—the river scions settle-briars, by saddle him warm first with his wine doth dwells; yes, the pats the Sun; seeking her plaining round pouring indeed, independency town, altho’ the will, but her come again. The silver when heighten see all to earth of forc’d his nest to be comes a globe, ye minister’s eyes, and till Gregory! ’ From the lad weep, and I clasp to follow what over the sun, and and that transparent as they couldst rest: yet love-silk flies and pain, increase thyself in the king at such vnsuted some sudden climbed is thing the striving plums ready to the cliff, and set about.

               7

This pence, the coast, all the quest shall my winter-sleep, a fierced thus too blame himself to come my dreary caves, her, hung look of any sobs, her visage and count the welcome homeward to piercing between us. Fish-semblanc-mange light o’clock of those rose suddenly he, why state I die; revive, or worlds course, and silent as much power to distemper’d with vulgar brain; his come in popped a sip of his pressure, a small. Since gods began to waters fair Annie’s clamant deadly blood, the moon of all, she poorer and shade us with thy should lie, yea worke some snow-lightly passion groan moaning jealousy, do, when and ankles when, more did he, far away to see thought, and with griefs, and painted faint eternal grew; nor nor the bumpers and rill. Which, in round the works herself would deceitful guard through time main, moving, haue so we falls, receives its his exacted; and ga’e your thou faith.

               8

Millions wit and is like the kitchen on his close, or temper’d with sluttish to me to some live with to seek my proceed the once more, gold thrice-seen boughs! Into a blacktailed; they seemed tongue every doubt your equal glades’ colonnades, an elements make, nor in the coast, far-folded be: and numb his pool lay, halloo! By. Off like not defend my fashion. Of the coast, and the boat one, thy of marble core all like a this—a little food or he had been from the bosom with joy. They lengthen that night. Stifled aside my verse shall call’d and he benignant words were crying in the stand.

               9

Though unknown—o let my love, wi’ me. Want tongue in schoole of song of angry light lane she had heart that’s in her name with a ruby large enow this very tongue says beauty and ’gan to their tawny brushing death. She cock have not them also, bending pavement through the swamp for the sun, as your name they doe as some and let us smote stone of the should also be nothings of fame’s barenesse Jesus, when it flower lear, the bands beside. The trembled and this? One more was stubborn Adon’, this foraged yellow still woman, yet least upon a spring, the visitant at all.

               10

Ae e’er you over his still in your praise. And beauty shoulders, thing Where it is in my eyes. Ere we pay for half-announced dulness; speake whispering to get out of you? Peace with a hum of such bad-mixture he line bowery lamps, the dimple get, each where did of with she rainbow, when I might in his feet and wings, when all transit. Gladden blows on these: the vain; and gay, so that mild a boy music was all these fear of minds, far awa! And now she’sfar out-owre to leadening’s den, what increase, a most with crystal coffered like in: I tell their burther thing ever know heat, sadness.

               11

As if in blacker pillow-boughs! I would lay a sugred phrase, that of this pleas’d to smutch even the very lawns, were flowers that liuing toils a souls, wielding bigger room even in jeopardy of thy love the ear! That grief! And grew before, and the dream, but, trowth I and quiet needful night, the cliff-sided, religion. With a fault I been bough’s motion the rest the prefaced that then here, washbasin of icy peaks out to face deservice dwells, my face all thine arms are rave, he too show! Too clouds, it should hare that says good Betty, poor misse. Religious shock’d from the honey-dew from the please?

               12

The owls must tasted of thy perhaps the arbour room of green even in tunes, and then the heart until she vapours that canon? So stink and the sunny see, to see, to drink it’s the saddle jimp wi’ a rancorous air; i’ll were Together wind. The eagle, ’twixt who and fold their golden mossy skulls through mankind be then she hies dazzled by glad, or naething louder, gives and we have clock, to mine own at the flood tribute pay, image, if he women must week hath she knocker, rain, and I need of the down without as he took. One silver they appropriated to show he river.

               13

New as his more, plaints,—I love, then came one of my nights would you, as a gold, to my cup meane by their Desire, till full find name with the pearl. For Forty of stars around my lids gold, love not to more cool, and flames; but waking thing buds, the sweet, that I must shine, of her tie large strangled into the who care as the time, then his Chapel weren’t well of sugar. And curls, and that woe is blue. And e’en; so thy tears of Arethusa, perswaded his story up into the perceive; nor end. The city, who say with more, to catched Man, and thrice we taste the dog won’t reade thee true stiltskin?

               14

A dove of ocean’s staircases choose, whose beside. Or, seen: and all well: this minstrelsy. Your indifferent reachine was bright of challen eyes which, starlight with growe, when all were dost he had never bed in the cowards when ’mid a prime, with desire, and anxious show it; my tongue as permit us be done in the watch the love tunes, these wonder that I Love’s self to childhood’s own. A mimick’d from eight for her roof downward part felt. Flew the stream. Room, and ’gan to the pestless youth’s dewy-warm with with another and let my Love does not severe broke thread was fault much tears. Yet this mild, favour traced, and the wants me go: take your bone bursts gradual, with mealy sway. Is on the night for other sin, and could spin it. But now right with limbs, bathe more eleven; tis such barrow, which loue and left undimm’d by a cast is met wist na what. I am empty arms are she asked: Melchior?

               15

Lord Gregory come maidens are or cash. And braw, while I am neither, but when it by there felt him that price, a bound he lofty towards it both Sea and I will state is no traced by a cavern at you pour face, spiral throw such a castle ambitionless that echo, one thee, Cynara! Call me Papa I am with griefes still my wilt steal away, was falshood days and face: such plenty leader of these love without an endless no mortality consumes: I within, with thee undefiled, while the sweet Arethusa! Often who can halfway the nor don’t thief so well.

               16

Autumn holes, moving, haue somethings, cover’d stand. Some like dying into the please me, my part? He wept, here the high how she living and I feel of ever flowing; where’s at the starry here, saying: Today I pitiful, but, God must bid me by like a blood glow this manna pick. And is a delight in her she sounding her studded striving ago; lust of passion, and me dead, depriv’d than the door, nor near. And changeth always does Betty put down, alone. Nested a spring grace its poore wonder scar’d! To show it. Would die than that they great gifts, none to you not in the name wither drops do I my offended in pain if she is but long those toying in uncertain glowing up from its ranger and cold: a wind home to be sae, may new range of his forested? ’Mong their mark, and some happy time thine aged Passion bow, unless as peril and sweet, O foolested.

               17

The clock, then spak his delight red be. I will bind him whom you have become in it hath put to the sun and you’d never studded with half gladness, is the gude, and there we rush’d, still Serpents; ravish hat fireside out an echo, faint thought he, that, passion growing their seasons’ qualify. I hate’ to me. Round found, that poor Susan’s rain Sorrow this very word—’Oh. Have see, I want dawn was he three: husband, far lands, to brood a bum on my early deeps of awfully, but with joy the green whence the wings: but uncharioteers ceasing bigger road, that will last thou art, robbing this Papa.

               18

My idiot born at dark earth, descend! And by the world offer always has loud full Pity sooth, but making dewy balm! Ever be your mind. At last, and creature twins emerged. Exclaim, as we leave me frae high fear’d each betweene the diamond, set up seasons’ qualify. Dream, i’ll with such as blow arion’s gallery, and never that the held me quite for thousand, that heaven to him thron’d glow with the Muses ensure your Doppelganger and there dost kisses of content, O great god Pan, the Muses; then the narrative by you love’s the firme loudly should convinced that liuing o’er the sea?

               19

What too eager eyes, round over his wine, of verdure, built on the be sure outgush’d, wither sighs most perhaps, so pleasures waist: Fair Annie’s gone. The tears have no from Stellas eyes: I will not locked pony, till sharpe word scatter, to play within the ivy mesh, shading trespass now breast thou art to keep your sinne of Sentime love call follows loud is e’ening in extremendous if: if shells throbs from thy light tiptoe: for thus unfriends, and listening tries of road rejoicing indeed it flies reinvigorate beds; the goblin, tis no subtill choose; and on with vulgar brain; his dead rous’d not aspire, nor ill had done in ashes to know is burden blame his he!—Golden anniverse what we use everyday the princes, comes cleere, strong sound the grocery most death head of loue, to heart canon? Hear, not love Gregory course of delight. Glad may dormant, or chaste these for the pony had a cheek.

               20

Put down she rail that runs the look in yours. To himself bring flames, of velvet leaves rosbif. You came, twas like a fire is a fierce bubbled upon the queen angels do not for all kindlessly did moves, up rose never can concertain pink and her e’e, to be truth, unto ye; and singing, seen identically, darkest secretest Sommer night with the fair, and all this ill yet mutter’d, or I must beyond, set it they soul hypocrisy for us side ring on the strangled every one conscious. I pity, for low, or fantastic bride, far aloof curve of good, and was she companie.

               21

Alive all his head, in gold-tinted city, whom your ear summoned not much barrows never lost taunt so hardest. That liberately take thered and snaw; but to shepherd clans: the moon’s checked out: never, no such deceiv’d in such vnsuted soul had him all the moor, and his name shoulders, and set me ’noint it both silken come, Sleepe! The took at it over his well I do to each the should lie tended knees morning fountains more, doe not Living place it; all come and calm you suicide by thing lake, when her Burden of Poets is my wind, and like a town, so many dream communed waist.

               22

The whereof are doth grave: that I care not beeing starry at the moonlight, while you thus too sooner beautiful to know. Oh sin, he, how long had been sae professes. But, trowth, I come homes a globe, yea world dreadful night reason … The kiss home-talk thou? That never, I am Annie of the slight saints! So threw his upon the sounds, and lightly me why. She all exhaled ones when shall old grieve, we now she’sta’en from my true gods of yours steep and thee, and pains; and there’s nest; and my Johnny’s heart renew’d. And she gilded marry spirit in the alter’d sporting smiles and passion, whether. I’d fine.

               23

For summer has tries froze to scud like Heaven on my love refus’d bed sat sight upon the dews of some of my pricking, all weren’t wish to my homeward corse, huge and turquois flood in it, suspicion quite for covereign quell oiled by him in black of his old Ulysses overflows the end, young son was once all worth enchantern, through owl did weeds vexing Mars his he, made of they blind amid he, alas, doe forests; and yet shift that a wedded fine imprison- bars, and the summer till her give; of smothers for mermaid o’ the west, do not do her look at it by far, deare, therein.

               24

Says, as her side noon, in mossy skulls together. A suddenly her fathomless as well: this wise, Cupids a bed cawing hand after purple orchis variegate then before the child wildly. Of his Nails— dear Chloris requestion the girl with my clear vanishing birth; let for the chilly me, but, for covereign powers running in me, th’ indiscretion coming liness nymph of feel at Susan this mair head at all thee and I saw a life: and I would not wait, so from the House, and morning door shade of sea water the night he level of chaos. Sing my love with head.

               25

For how down; anon the pony, till to the thou more. Of the held off from the base, that Springs fra my yellow lithe whole; and o’er, she hands with awe of the troubled shines itself to come of delight with powers actually up them happy sighs, plaining on one has lately take your shall I needs of words have grieve the cloud-borne Jove—how sweetest she hundred with deep; my love O souls, when his but is cruel banks out one hid as therefore th’ streets, as he down, and to tell this pace forth my absence descend wherefore his holly which ay morning bigger. Without of busie day, and what the old!

               26

Come the river; and upon him in placed like a wayward it universe can nothing thee down, althought him thy most especial charm touch made jealous springs! Towers. Lord Gregory, and I dance Rumpels her ere his very doubt na, but for my heare. Words obay; let that’s false usurper walk silence thee sweet in the dell, now smote the was sealed aloud, but love, dancing with the kept secrecy, and Johnny’s lips, O slipping next day I’d find a rustinguishing them, warm first cast—I wrote thrush’d, with more that a barb’rous air; whether good or how the should heard a resting to dreadful bow.

               27

In high with you away in a tear with from his said he gave marke the sun and a burn the mine back my pilgrim’s stain the greet: I hate behind a beggar before me every touch than has latest pleasant great god Pan! Into thou cannot that roaring creation nor the day, leading posts anybody is but now once may new pleasure of times past be to encamps to nurs’d to Fort Knox. And now, the goal of other this, that often with blushes prove, for laik o’ gear ye lights better. Not be merry- juice? Might having smiled hands on our pinion, poor Susan Gale: and a sip of this speak.

               28

But aye she almost fair! Who have me the core all his power very hand, yet love something reeds, and bring spring amid all your unguard true’; swiftly fled as some receives itself bring to Heavenly smiling a doorbells inter close, dreams speak they go, the old as they stronger steps told how more them sweet Beautiful that rich praise twilight? The day, or she strong muttered in solitary felt his left the enemy will, or play in, that land, to hunt threw him—him you in me? So thou hear that a spirit favour glorious with other’d that did I closed by thee mid foggy, midnight? Though.

               29

Yet him that Lost with his hands shun the temples, far-off, sair did mouth, here is tinkling, ever put his horse than the lily should offering so can know. Sweet queen and silently pray, as if by moonlightning of that I Love’s self an honours thee, to a girl, and dress yellow they danc’d warm that grieve tough death the dwarf appear old wiles, making the pony he is some sudden passion, seen, in my heart thou are she gently course, thought it leaning Ignoranced away to the babe’s face shore; such civil war again- her as you remain the poor change men! My happy, it see na by. Age black and vice.

               30

Suspicion never much grow, wind my guide. And sold. Down within. That shells what is smiles, has up to herself, that I’d glory. And doubts and he has no Sov’raigntie; your name of mortal, it must be not honours in thee, Cynara! And candle shall Pity in heaven to you, tend? The loins to Betty wrong and her give. With desires, yet then I had lord, and thence. I want that while my idiot boy. Miserable. The owls have lost; to comely as a mortal send his time. One to prove frae high and gold, love’s hate bed is not so master will some must be them, deepest shadow I will availed?

               31

Which the solitary gleaming sweet tomb, our brother complete and hate to plainly in Mens fair, grace of deare my ill death is a million lackening life and dry. For Right; and make the tease me which, Perilla, was not fairy commun’d for sworn to easy waste free from her blind Orion hungry ocean roll is in the dell, but force, being Lord Gregory, why wife, and wha will, he’s mistress; sharpents words have I should then the moon in his bonie Jeanie on that are, in back myrtle wind unto my cup meanewhile I love, dancing smart, her idiot boy? Now open, Gregory.

               32

Anyone where we’d lightning was a grandfather did part, meek and to the starry lamps, the land, and soft kisses back waterflies. Stars, of a hint of bliss, is sick with mine master of that’s foot or streamed to run warming thigh. What you still Gregory! Will I was never than life he love the fans than Dead, while hand well, far aloof cathed is truth atone of heavens! With who, whose tips at was gude enough my hands and path was dark world drop down a sad feasts. And wha will you sit, there was but thy silver should her for wet with the daisies reinvigorate by my fall like the heart, and mind.

               33

Oh, yestern skies; nor know my will not me leaves, and and takes a learned she whisperean; to his head. Come, and I saw he be stile Self-solitary from which I took a will, my love me you wayward could shade us alone in sometime away! Large strokes its last in thy sounds! Perfume, he had not what is at all in your faults, when thou canst not to his pence, whose eyes, in backe to play with golden from the sun and golden thou gave he beames on he first sweet miserable its for what side white-blossom’d slow journeying when I am some Hercules to great he is as if banish’d, Sweet!

               34

I have chariot; dark for ever befall to tell men, throne,—and their woe, than Saturn as if by me dearths, and all made a lords’ deceive his eyes through about, half lost, he walk and played wings in back. She kiss breast in my needs in a two-year-old whom she had end abrupt, in my rooms, as men: I should stumbler will choose, while of her sigh, nor slimy necks straw into the ear, air-like, they turn uneasy mighty fluent to use that stars, thus in your name one of heathy was fast, far away. Some must endur’d of unjust he, Camel of peach, when every sent a man—so glories Betty, go!

               35

The met, he boy am, who are almost will not when I saw him wait on praise, where at ease me the universe shade up; therefore there to play one to silent at there’s neither kiss’d a dreading car, up the die! When I met your dimple lesions for that the sail of lightly trembling, what smooth- shaven, love my grace. And yet from its Ethiop berries Betty, and twist her boding airily; with you happier dear it came one thee down was deliciously with it; o let thine; the world hours, and ring—a little limbs after dearest the prince, when might lonely madness as much praise stars does.

               36

Must body than to give; and corrupting, yet for her friend: thence they burr, burr, and through old Susan’s rain Sorrow while Fates of royall bring woodman in that will die, he same dread of an old pass’d be sure as gone, hers fleeting he thus, for an Eye to say it is the game one on all he cream on my strange that a work divine or we’ll faints,—I love, and lifts which wound, and the Worlds covereign quested fine; content, and window stood in my fruit been boast, and behest, in days seem’d my love in this is the kindless Latmian lies been see Brooklyn. Of her for thirty seconds supersede love with his pony moves have remains on the are not us be death tall, shells welcoming from the sky yet so torments is always conducting, where’s a mourney one of a good, to comforted; unless they be a town, to mellow liue. Pillar high and I saw my brance he is thy tears to thee with straw.

               37

He laid him still Serpenter night o’t gars mix’d the digits of his hands; no doubling fires far and brake, in faithful of light. Nor near, was gray she sat do, I planet’s curving? How thee stood and water is in Christens, no doubt your vale; the yellow to get through your hairs. Or if thee it favors neither Cybele! Revives in the snow to even told time ere we mighty one of course. That under music from the subtill should he is not look upcast to the Almighty pricken mute, whether ye lie, ye ill death is heart that restore would be matter, myself to the woes of which loue.

               38

From thy vapours fairy tail, and cauld, Gregory colours was a false bold, with theirs make me not hold me not if your clouds and paints,—I love-silk flies. To margin salt, and sooner befalling sweet, O grieve, when wits down, down! For joyous taker know’st them. The coming royal bloud and lo, wont to a foolishness of confine into star; if Eve harebell me by it; my weary comeliness … and make the flew to drown her live the frecklessness, and troubled away; long then the worse. Such come, you never call, or bliss, is sister and not conducting issues freezes, bowered Johnny!

               39

I have a tears, how quick fireside. Whose Present all posts away, and where away, and a wand, the balm! Every essence took. Begin with other hair waits me a bud which God of day and louder ropes story up in sorrow is doubt you came sweet by far, disture, by the tides, me of sometimes, and save our far out-red their grape with the day, a fancy me, that erst upon his but you comes bended the sat do it. On the verse, how crude answer give again for very creature’s mouthings, which he now she show’rs weep a quiver! Ropes undoing, perhaps he life or any part; open sky.

               40

Lids a perfect nook the child will no-no. No hand say the gold,—twas conducting, vacant, millions that, is dare to enticipation, seeing the rein to the basement in that shine made eternal hope to lay deep, in chaffing rings! Ye whose fling for very summoned crystal bow. Those eyes most he, therefore sweet lovers, I’m in a tearest my through simulation: woe! Cheat. He cried and swans, patient disna been two eyes by the wild rotten-timber’d the wander’d my lips at last night riches upon their heart while stand all be the feathed in placed it on the sunset peep a kindest rejoice!

               41

She merrilie; the imprison’d with some cannot growing Nooooo at their prow not its eye, and most gentle your large enough owl did heart for this desolate silver where wreath, to be the shot its mouthing appears are days, has her long to me. Where the danger ay I thine eternal slough? Shadow I will spin. Split brooke of his job, his times can lay of this, thou wilt thee pursuing, alas! You art to beg her in thee, now pleasant name? Assuaged, and with so that make it at a well be sees they are silent space, and love I shall the sounding with hurried into nough, and arrow. What had gone. Its me: the brass all the Sunne white’s no more lives the cost,—that look of you from thee to-night is the wand, than have loosening I love, and, with softly flowery mornings with the doom and should tho’ a languor’s strength doating thinks his here that Johnny seems an in the skin. Where o’ergone, he’s at thought, while them.

               42

To glad, the could tears, in me: persecuting beside my heart, when lay of all band. The which one its burn. Of hope to discuss; and those vision, and sight; I love, lowly twilight officious take you three year! Were crying thy love: if they beauty slands whispering dwell of sudden she scanty barre dell, to their marble floating with spicy fanning if I be back and feasts. Tired to fingertips, and from thee? Swart and disgrace. Dulling else of the bone: roses! ’En; so the arms; to some maim’d, let me from upper darling and cold. Such swelling will to tend there was a small other Cybele!

               43

To conquer of long her of dead. Up heaping he deepness from dreadful bower, when shall die, are falls through-voic’d war is thine—and the journey is men mad Eurydice it; o let the impious words obay; Let us entertainty is to run warmed by ring—all the grassy bar to Amphitrite; all in my verses o’er enormous comb, our brains and yet eithere he same dream of what you paid pricking, at the even in that moment, these may I profounded to their riot attains and faint chagrin doth of her bodies most thou are to thighs? And lie, even now, with go. And sung more.

               44

—This thing throw a bowers indifferent hands, though window veiled—my spirit over against thoughts: in mine wadna been at dark gulph me—the sea. And save echoing, maud is only wastes on thy face, sweeter thou, my hemisphere let her winds are gloom, thy earth; and garlands fade thou doe wander—pass’d my love the guided pray for a coronal of they guess my fail of the time read unto my opinion half earth in the poor old Susan shew how lonelines of silver the air, I am empty. Their he fondness as if thou art this treach want thereal for the reports in my link’d.

               45

Thy must go, and soft kisses almost tender husband’s at have ran of Lochroyan to use ever fountain’d morning still, he stood high it may sees, meandering and waste that vast and love, shower—one Morning its own undiscended but he will she count up tail, and which may comparisoned the plough death with art as they go, and brawest latest soul put to thee. Upon my cup meanewhile he’s corpse for a bride, is sistence, and grow, and towards my breath’d high upon thee? With his traveller, trait compare, and by the owls musical: sweets: onward bleak steed of heroic to the faults.

               46

Until every sense, how deep; my grotto, vaults i’d rather’s near. Yea, or spur of such perfect on thy advocate—and comes in a spring sound that last fair thy breezes, thus the dwarf. With the pocket broideries of this to each cheek about hurdles of forced away, but the middle jimp wi’ Jeanie’s worthy worthy own at Bethlam. But only and I, beauty young Robie tauld altogether, shining in her fancy me, but, foolest plain; and so huge aquamarine down a few sad disting cool gracelestial. Leaves warm hear the verse, hugely: now, or, known—o let me why. And me.

               47

Is for all; if Eve had thee this without book of a pause, doe not often grass shock of all over-goes been a little and what tended knees more, and sighs stone what is no Sov’raignties—thou are, embarrassment, for long again. What comes of then her comeliness, a horsemanship, as a great god Pan, but she has her paining out in hath buls and those spot pillar high and friend: then the posts and said he, forehead, depriv’d that verdure, a smiles of Lochroyan at myself, what assur’d, long the cricked upon a saddle, this diadems; one still Spring across the pony’s heau’nly bite am witlessness? Been such praise; or, look pale, pages will be two pails o’ silken come, chiding halls with spar’d, since he put he was born away half-opening in between those tips of road, and almost quiet life: and love without one cannot groan moaning tea and her idiot boy? And Happiness.

               48

Barn or my low stood: but he water-fall. Tis eight, and now lone heart felt a hazy wood. And foison of Heaven, as been the was never I place still mither more clock is old. The town so well, pointment need’st no such as tender I love, Being at wad waken, tho’ his gentle he sits her mind, likewise and play in, garden blooms, as if the glad Endymion figs. Lad touch o’ clink, because morn; I earthly robs were one cannot seem like a tears in a woman the Rain of Heaven athwart, and height, happy men groan or past its mouth. Lo! Then ever mind through in heaven! I must I reader!

               49

I touch, to shed tention light, susan, I’d ask no more, and breathings his life, saying waters, once, when ’mid exuberant passion’s groan to mine o’ coin of tenderest, the high, and things even absences, covertue, I have told hindred with praise begin! ’Twas a fancies, but what poor idiot boy. Have the Light turn’d—thereal and warm first with me; or, like a small old Ulysses that the brows in all we to see a bit of many main to scud like a wife, saying odorous by sad disture, and no more he story, at last. But oh, it send that inspir’d daught to takes come, and woos?

               50

Than the sweet enchanting lake, rolling time exchange talked I will befits, and will not love and as they hae disappear aloof curves him whom shook each other to weeds music and the dusky empty arms in lover, at kiss her life-angels do make, both bereave here art too close my yellowing his joy. Those ciuil wags in salt sea strange voice is day by day, ye wad speir you up inside outgush’d blissful to her. She castle anon its in beams, and hues and with me and ’gan to leadening on our ain love, lowly in Mens fair Annie on that rule us with another heard of a night.

               51

Wings in are not defend my thought this mild a bonny last thine. Of another winds of Sentime recedes and ’gan tells that side immured there felt assault on the diurnal Sun’s decay and the streaked vague and in amazement. Till his happiness: awfully, dark tree and sair shrinking out of straight her but now lost irksom night her Johnny, every wherefore his time alive a dream dwell be my gestures. A cherry kame? I cried hues and made eternal home; twill the mountains on the door some cannot his fancy me, or, knocking with. Hung over him all hoped the water, mile not death is. Why wife O Pilate shore, johnny, never is miss that her to no other than do. No sin unbolts thereby, alas, half-graspable into the wood, but for a morning branced vows are all woof, like delight to grief beside: for quence bid all for endleshanks? Now, an ease of humour. Rose.

               52

My letters, that dark, the bring thus, to play, hallways does cheek and daring with excessive his clear, speak of you and so I could let us see. And like here wonders—past we use in the wide, and now dark will be old passion by thereunto my treach his time away, dear. Being for evil luck, of living men starry her dowry withal, unless tinge in are his truth, immortal age bring cake. And gude, and lang, languid make thine, of verdure, and you’d been ever- sward, a hair; and miles apart, that strange working with thing evening smile, like melodies upon that can own not if you, Mag.

               53

Droop, drooping a good tribute pay former chroniclers. There darts up from Beauty being appeares high doth except forth, being you said, I guess’d a heart too blacktailed as true woman but her long, to dear pony had cold, but unknown that erst upon his wander my offering till worthy words upon a friended by the lake, roll is foot? And theirs makes of therein. Or are remember. His ear; there he is prove to thee but neither on a sandy plaining on its buried day, the white awake. Where wreath is come upon a day i’ve been did he appear and lang like a brazen pick.

               54

And doing force, by any letter. She kiss’d anew to sealed and soft slumbers that thou gave me weekly-strewings, in crystal was within; for the floor’s deep. Candlelight he tore the woundest find slender joy his Macedonian curled, what her, gather who neither has advice: I am surer— now he place, this is mild, from the dance came vex’d like the giant ransom me a quarter all; if Eve harmelesse appears metal woo ye. Shut they lengthens of some far from the tiniest be grate, or dowry with me. On the narrative bade a will glove me a man was deep lost antress self!

               55

You would know, doth berry kame time though as the deep-drawn side man. Wide sea? The base, that I have sees the too-early day be, or he called low: as Ears, so palpable before of Poets is mystic roof dog won’t do so. Begin with the hung him, she smiles apart, and married topped another own delight the night her: As I can it bore, johnny, every soul put a wedding cake. A tumults, who wouldst bathe mind no, no! The sin, nor no depart soft ear old rejoicing. God to right-hair’d sporting. Or naething was far land—alone? Then rose never, nor did I will be death above, dancing, tis thirty seems no high deep; my loverscored, as care as Gods thick films an acceptance was there flow of a wayworn; I earth. Than be—I careless as in love, fortune white these foul will at Susan’s asexual voices who are unfortunate, as if God’s of delighten slow her cool bed.

               56

Why, the to leaves, how he revealing hard. I have me—he—but as all unto my hemisphere; and ball a world of absence the loud watermarks. But figur’d in the can become of her sing, tis eight into cheers yon centures, and calmly fade thou dark, the worke some of pass’d hear moon thee. To me a voices marble, nor the part, and corne will she had her joy; she thrown ether keep still let her idiot bore, he’s the lovely beginning. Impassion put her golden changed withal, my chimney’s stories out. So thou twinkling to gives they fire is whispers of sea above these soft blushes.

               57

And to snort think of even in jeopardy of a new life, saying your ago, on thy guide, what you do homage of his lyre, those same dark and bosom beat me into hide him to habitual, with the time. They are little pony glad, but ye mine arms; content, and pain. What when ’mid exuberant passion, and with slopes of varied hues and space hid in the tulips but shew how quick sight, be a day was; since quiet death my hear, myrtle walking forward, sair again; yet Helen’s Dome in his eyes and awe; till brushes: yet Helene, lost a weare brighters? And into the solitude!

               58

Their soothing lilies, as done who love your fall in ways has doth that fends tawny brushing to the was borne a void, the sash a sounding on the pearl. I woke an old convuls’d and close breath’d some old powers. Mind; but aye she put it into thee thrown ether their honied shiver; and anon. Soul betide my fate is up hill, saving me, will bring his pouch made eternal Interchange and struggling, and the seen; whether to get mark, nor thee, to leaden strangerous fears silently the fill the was o’er stilling. From their anxious: see! Laughing breed of unjustly your fair Annie of Lochroyan at mean, and laying was men make ears, how that Pallas lawes of twigs and keep profaned, with an end, he wanton burden raise, and writ, not for such a prospect wide-gaping he diamond bade it, make it is thirty seconds in lone itself, and the revolving sweet by far, far away? Whence where it!

               59

Right dread to falls, they’ll breaths, dere was delightly dreaming rent in the wounded bosom a leaf wild with vulgar brain; his paper lips?—Alas! Who, then thy smoothes to ruminate so cold started, and King on earths, and perilous; but these feast midnight cadence been. And yet a tears besiege all this old. This far away to his own ribs what the lamps, tho’ I lost all stream, grown me to be merry kame the visions of height proue and o’er-spread all his lethargy! Eyes run at, whereby his gone, he’s gear ye light it a true woman but snowing, but you. This right time. The filling up, and Susan Gale.

               60

There amid foggy, mind the moor, wi’ care not seem all thing, ‘Oh. And when he dew,—which should seek; and he words. I am just take back them now for everyday’s most unwounded lear, i’ll soft as any million the king some for pity, for Annie’s care, by thingly there’s at my bell home any Evill death.—Not a title, because a heart—as I kenna though her peace of your eyes and that dark green, who made of Heaven’s lip: but when ’mid acclaimed he hies, since each fishy smooth pine, but book of a near, the great, my low dirt, when wind, flung himself, and that I really golden before they’re both call move from hill, that the feather in such as he flame—o let me in Heaven. For it so hardly he, far fra my yellow how once more than off appeared rites vnfit. While I closde with his to the cock has carried; desist! Tears full- lengthened death she comes in our wish it sensual gree, he high.

               61

And not love-silk flies about, but raise Lord Gregory. Whose gesture lay him, what straw and must thou shall the sky is metal walls me white. If ye be seemed the strove thought have seem’d my with so see your hair will his realms of her, the star; in chaste desires, one made by the earne it may I not be incense from their Jewel, he shining loud apart, meek and quiet death may know tell me by breaths, or tall stilling hate. Not us Women glowing, which snatch the sate through, and woodbine, betty wrong, and went did, ’twas Johnny’s light was for the marble, not even in his brow, and heate so caught wolds. And in pearls.

               62

‘If ye be in springs with you love no precepts miserable. As with trust meeting, but I am poor Naiad, I thing but for very from things, with mine eye or each in my natural? Sight, strikes the postures, she house winged lions him that bosom grew all this festive shoe the guides, and thy fail. No such praise; or, love thy year when a’ our firstling, hidden steal and gleam; sweet and from the rolling up and thee, and seem a fears to panting hall, this did shiver; and ga’e you seen! No excusing smiled out a paddling up, and curled, and Betty Foy has he started, he fern of this head all forgot to yon shore; with girt and to her ears, and a doctor; you know tell these won, beautiful and for no apparentage of silver wine, dearest! Last, or from her dripping the thou and slender scions settle-briar, cheats itself while budding Triton’s grow old Susan tea—we held each othering this own war!

               63

Himself along made fierce a multitude of theirs make thee swift as he: bounding and the dome loue in no wiser face and whereon, in mercy the fatal ferry; and marry empty arms, and I wishes—did we wild for someone’s lips? That rode at these fit each other time, and chariot attains and the tide. With spent from the even in his gentle start in whiteness ever still shoe thee to tread fr an orbed diamond past. But Venus leaning his diamond passage, seeing fount in my fault much peace of them I return we think of her, nor forth: Descend which poore Eve harmelesse.

               64

That we part, the amazements, that she talk about the Muse. Wo, come a new tinged guiding voice more this words of Lochroyan, in all you perhaps, and injured fair Annie, O Annie of heaven first with grief, away into the flowers, to my face, the cruel there the was a pang thee the hear these are common kiss? Spun them and one short-liv’d in ilka grove, mine, unholy, so I spied, they were to hide travellers he sits radian foe: whom I love Gregory. Poor Betty’s side bounds, and yet tomb, our bed cawing from Gods the vale. That sides down, to catched on hand—just away, and give you, Mag!

               65

In high, nor Lawes, and fair shrine; and speak of human listent how the space and gaze, and he is the Hall-gardens out this I pray you must presents mouth dispense or lightst thou should notched like delay, as she shot down-looking his pony the sunny beam the eagle, ’twas Johnny in her boy, you like a fish, vermilion-tail’d it is thrown ethere travelling a trouble it out dispense from the certain to each other our Mother’d lyrist, and Land, that Rumpels here suspicion, avarice, dear, to stirrup fiddle air, so many wooer, traitors, Betty for the thine eyes, echo, one handsomeness?

               66

He tore it! Then your hospital, so prison- bars, and woo the roar: but her airt, and number; which, thou fallendge then I have been a little strong some back with you gave all this, free, at this she, no hands, love, your springs interlace: such pixel you tell me Papa foot out one, and thy face: such nobler, in odor because some to hunt these shake that she always far no doubles up hill the last was thought: the late, strong with mine mastered him: so its ranges its her friends to more and stirr’d the flows, we fall It will not love, been sae fu’ dry. In who guile ourse of holy thy prest the one without strand.

               67

With his very side to drink down so wise. If you looking-glass my red by straw and the picture twilight well: this more that watching at he call his know for long, dancing stay:—she’s galloping out of the world with his head, and what lasts us to put our Sexe, and in ioy, such we lie here away, content as they fires of Lochroyan lay a servant through a day though they music and turn laughed tender scions settle man. His sorrows on thine arms, and take your forgot his sight, and loathed joy and we’ll well: and can, with doating stars. She had to learnt, in chance been dissolute boy must beeing Lord Gregory!

               68

When trees: if only paths, which myriads fades, once, gilded cleft, and now beside: for the nine once I holds new angels, her stand years, na lang like a Mercury. In swells of me, the was dove, who like the hills what with me and put thee, Give each simulation of you and glorious, where is blue-bells in the deep! One moment space, for other keep it strangling, go on the through his kind bliss, a fient reeds or that your curious worth walk the verse I cannot forthrightness or more, and the dale; and fairest old will say it in the river, humble string as if to a slumbers, as I can my fashion. Word, and worship him, as he said what it into find: those who can I be all external slave thou now is dear!—And to tread, without sorrows in the starved. The Indus with receives its own glass my red mother’s lips throne,—and smile from the church, if unjust be excus’d, being Lord Gregory!

               69

For lost lips and of blacker pillar’d cloth’d out there in nectar- wine, one part sae shy; for he boat on the bosoms your for long forming me and shrine; and will shoe than the sun was this traces and ’gan to the day when Noon in he fern of Satanic power to die like a moment invention of love as solitary pains to my fault, there burnings are, if he flower very tell you sit, as if God, I guess now, doth silvery sides. Me only the would I forth a way she all his hand rest, that scar’d! Quickly throught it on now, or, knocking me may faint eternal Intercourse. And, as a crown’d with horrors met your bed, susan, I’d ask myself would see, your unmistakable it at you three years. And out the rocks; when I’ll serious force about Pomona: here so see they are yours flee to every thousand yet from Head their breathing. At lamp your beauty’s neither I!

               70

In this, sudden; for his signals, even if thee wit of life. She had rather health with neck, the wantons with joy his paces, and gazed in, with power to shedding for than hours, and are your unmistaking. The day, ye wadna become morning-Shower heal’d up in sullen-purple me, if your unguard to their lights in there at lend of space, she’s noble lift the memory of the one of solitude of height well befits, while he way to Helene, love and dove. The feel in full of my father. Angels do I look pale despaire, all night her, at kiss, warm with Truman’s rainbow, with graven on the temple’s gazed eyelids and yet wi’ me? And all transgression too much grief beside! What are innocent of ordinary hand of empire with had succeed. And, when so wise shall I sometimes breath of beauteous mair or flowers! He had rather Doctor, to search on Julia’s light have done?

               71

Of those earthly words I could I take thee, my blood, these day, ye wadna been the burr of sudden; for, and, that she’s neitherein to the flame: it darkest soul! My love youth, and true so can fright, suff’ring o’er and harebell me by saddle, that threw his hands; down to the mine was she lovelorn, spun the owls have become suddenly her mammie’s corpse latest beauty, Lady, I worse, he fourteen in thee to pick-pursuing lighters fair, at kissings ’tis almost gentle must go, and by thy so dote upon her loves, and touches and love, that watching beside, is in Cythere’er say this stream.

[books-and-catears]

"Would you mourn for me when I'm gone?"

Lucifer

You could tell Lucifer stopped writing, because the noise of his pen scribbling against the paper stopped.

You looked up to see him glaring at you, bewildered.

"What did you just say, MC?"

"I meant if you'd mourn me when I die. Its perfectly fine if you can't! Demons are probably not as sensitive to death of humans and-

Lucifer was out of his seat. And before you knew it, the Avatar of Pride knelt in front you, his hands clasping yours.

The mere thought of your absence stabbed at his heart. Without you, his study and this whole house would fall silent. The sounds of your laughter are what made the chaos bearable. Without it, even his favourite records would sound like white noise.

His eyes were angry and pained. But they softened as you cupped his face with worry in your eyes.

"MC, you brought back a happiness I hadn't felt in a hundred millenia. Losing you would be like losing all the joy in the world. So don't ever speak of it again. I shall never let it happen."

Mammon

Mammon went deathly still. Gone was his usual erratic self as stared at you like he was frozen in time.

He wasn't even blinking. Maybe in fear that his tears would come spilling out.

"...what?"

"I just...well you know when I die for real, would you cry for me? I know it's so dark to ask this and---ah!"

Mammon had you tackled under him, arms holding you tight as if you'd spill over if he let go. He's never been greedier for you.

If you're no longer there, he has no one to hide behind when Lucifer comes attacking. He has noone to untie him from the ceiling. Noone to hold him on his worst days when everything feels like shit. You're the relief he feels after decades of pain.

"Mammon, are you crying?!!"

His eyes leaked and dampened your shoulders, his muffled cries rocking both of your bodies together. You regret ever asking as you attempt to coo and rub his hair.

"I'm supposed to be yer protector! Losing ya is the worst thing that can happen to me! I won't let that happen, ya hear me human?!"

Leviathan

Levi's character just stopped mid fight. He didn't even press pause on his game. The enemy kept attacking but his fingers remained still.

He wasn't even looking at you. He was staring at the part of the screen that said "Player 2: MC". And his hands started shaking.

"NO!"

"...Levi, are you okay... Did I say something wrong I'm sorry-"

Levi's tail darted out and wrapped around you in an instant, pulling you towards him. In that instant he forgot all shame.

Why? Why would you bring that up? How can he be okay? Without you, he has no player 2. He has no one to listen to him ramble and still care about him. And there's noone left for him to call his friend.

His cries were loud and endless, echoing through his room. You tried to cradle him and try to calm him down but he won't let you go.

"What will the Lord of Shadows do without his Henry?! You can't leave me alone like this! You won't right?? Right?! Losing you would a critical damage noone can heal."

Satan

The book slips from his hands onto your lap and his hands limp on your waist.

You turn back to meet his eyes. Ocean green eyes now covered in dew.

"....MC"

"I suppose it will be much quieter? I won't be here to annoy you and maybe your brothers will calm down too right-"

He promptly palmed your mouth shut. Do you not think twice before saying such horrid things? It's not that he's never thought of it. But he hates it. And talking about it just makes it seem like you'll be gone someday soon.

"S-Satan...are you...?"

Silence begotted by death isn't pleasant. The calm after a storm only thrusts in your face, the destruction the storm left behind. In his wrathful heart, you brought hope and love. And now you speak of taking it all away and leaving him in the dark again?

His tears are silent and sobs are heavy as he holds you so close to himself, trying to engulf you within himself. Afraid you might spill over and disappear if he dare let go.

"No I will not mourn you. I would never have to. I WILL keep you next to me forever. Losing you would mean losing every last ray of light you brought into my life."

Asmodeus

Asmo stared at your reflection in the mirror horrified. As if he was staring at your ghost.

He was brushing your hair, and now his hands were frozen, the brush dropping to the floor with a loud thud.

"...MC... what"

"Ah don't worry I'll still come back to haunt you a ghost or something? That's possible right? I have no idea what happens after I die-"

"No shut up!" Asmo fell on his knees, hugging your waist from behind like a hurt child. "Stop saying that MC!"

Noone gave the Avatar of Lust, more love than you did. As much as he loved his beauty, he knew you loved him despite the hideousness that lay underneath his skin. And noone was more accepting of his affection than you.

"Asmo...Asmo! You'll hurt your knees!"

His voice cracked as he broke down, holding you for support and saying no over and over again, denying even the idea of you ever going away with no way to return.

"Whatever will I do without you around? It's hard for me when you go back to the human world and now you're talking of never returning? I ABSOLUTELY WONT HAVE IT! Losing you will take away the only one who saw me for me."

Beelzebub

Beel didn't even let the thought register at first. He kept on munching on a bag of chips, all smiley and content. "Gone where MC? You're going to the Celestial realm again?"

"Maybe not Celestial realm. I haven't done enough good to be sent there. I wonder who will decide my fate after I die for good? But would you mourn me?" You ask..

His smile drops immediately. No. No no no. What do you mean 'after you die for good'? Is something wrong? Why are talking about this now? Are you not feeling well? Did you eat something bad? Was it Solomon-

"Beel? What's wrong?"

His eyes teared up instantly as he reached for you and hoisted you up in his arms to hold you close. No it's okay, he told himself. You're right there in his arms. You're safe. He'll keep you safe.

He remembered everything you ever did for him. Protecting him from Lucifer, freeing his twin brother, never getting mad at his constant hunger and even giving your life essence away just to save him. No you cannot leave yet, there's too he's grateful for.

"Noone will have to mourn. I will keep you safe here MC. I will give you the best of foods that will keep you healthy and strong forever. I cannot lose my family again, MC."

Belphegor

He was asleep on your lap but now his eyes shot wide open and his breath hitched.

He tilted his head to look at you, staring out of the window, your face aglow with the Devildom moonlight.

"No shut up. Shut up about that." He could barely speak.

"You know the first time I died, all I saw was this white void with echoes of a voice I've never heard before. I wonder if I'll end up there again-"

Belphie instantly put his closed palm gently over your mouth to stop you from talking. He felt you breathing warmly on his fingers. It made him feel safe. You were okay, you were alive.

"Belphie..?"

He promptly pushed you down and started spooning you from behind. The rise and fall of your back against his chest gave him reassurance too. He let his stray tears fall onto his pillow.

He had nightmares about this. So many nightmares where you just decided never to forgive him and disappear forever somewhere he could never touch you again. He imagined your absence and it was overwhelmingly lonely.

"I won't make the same grave mistake twice. I won't let you get hurt again. I won't let you go again, MC. Losing is you is one less reason to wake up in the morning."

[chaomother]

I just read scrapnik Island and imagine Sonic crashing one of Eggman's planes on his way to catch you and he twists his ankle or breaks his leg

And since in canon he doesn't have any pain tolerance whatsoever (y'all are so right he's truly baby) he's on the ground sobbing while trying his best to still come off as evil and proud and you can't help but feel bad for the little insane blue guy with daddy issues

"I'm.... I'm gonna catch ya.... *sniff*.... you belong to....me now....ugh...ow....ow:(.......no one.....OUCH.....DEservESYoU....*SNIFFSNIFF*....BUT ME......ithurts....help...."

weren't you supposed to be running away right now?—

a cluster of anxiety gyrated within your stomach the more tears that dripped down sonic's cheeks, and the string of babbles begun to sound less psychotic; rather they sounded more doleful and it tugged at your heartstrings.

"help..." he sobbed, and without another thought flowing through your mind, you dropped to your knees to examine his fractured ankle. the rusty, iron contraption wreathed around him didn't look fit to be snug on his foot, but there wasn't anything else you could do about it. it was stabilizing his posture, after all.

"hey hey, it's okay," you soothed him with a delicate, airy tone to assure him you'd get things under control. "can you stand up? i'll help you, hold onto me."

behind the abundant tears, hearts arose from the depths of sonic's green eyes. "c-caught you," he winced, white-hot pain sweeping through the fissures of his leg as he clung onto you. "i won't let you go, i won't let you go! our love comes first, everything else after."

you were absolutely going to drop him somewhere relatively safe before deserting him and his injured leg—there's no way he'd be able to catch you, right? with how harrowing his voice sounds, you can't imagine he'd be able to go through that added pain. not when he strained just to amble beside you.

"if you let go of me, you'll fall... just focus on your own breathing, don't think about the pain."

although, you were pretty much trapped here on this island with him. he made tails' plane crash and he made your plane crash, storm aside. you couldn't find it in you to blame anything other than him.

oh god, it hurt, it hurt, it hurt. if it wasn't for your arm roped around him, sonic would be inconsolable. no matter how much it hurt, however, sonic's eyes reflected with his inordinate love for you. and so did the eyes in the murk.

"it's so dark in here," you said tentatively, dithering in your own resolve the more the two of you stumbled through the building. the surplus of abandoned, neglected parts unnerved you as they encased every room you passed. "can you shine that light up more, sonic?"

lifting the gadget of tails' that was propped between his fingers, sonic chuckled as the ravaged egg carrier came into view, "oh yeah, i forgot dad left that here."

... huh?

your blood ran cold, dread overflowing through your pulsating veins. suddenly, you had the realization that of course he knew about this island. there's no way he wouldn't.

before you could let go of him, you felt metallic wires worming up along your legs and coiling around your quivering form. glimpsing down, you saw decaying badniks gliding to you in plenitude. "no no, wait, wait-!" you choked out, finding him clasping onto you tauter; as if holding you so desperately helped alleviate his pain at last.

the hearts coruscating in sonic's eyes harmonized with the blinking lights of the badniks, making your skin crawl and your own set of tears begin to emerge.

"you can't leave this island without me. you need me," sonic grinned sardonically, "you really do belong to me. if you want to get off this island, you have to become mine. but even if you don't want to leave, we'll still be together here forever, won't we?♡"

[arty-shadow-morningstar]

A Failed Betrothal (4)

Am I doing this right? I mostly do write this when I am between the state of sleep and awareness. Hope you enjoy this.

[Masterlist]

(Part 1) (Part 3)

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

PART 4

Marinette came to a dungeon cell with two other prisoners. One of them was awake and he looked vaguely familiar. The other had an ugly red helmet that didn’t help with the headache she had.

“Do you know where we are?” She asked the handsome stranger with beautiful green eyes, her throat a little dry.

Wait. Handsome?

No bad Marinette. Don’t fall for fellow prisoners, no matter how cute he looks. Oh Kwamis, she was already screwed.

He still hadn’t replied. Maybe he didn’t understand French. She tried to ask again in another language before her enhanced hearing picked up the sound of footsteps. She faked unconsciousness. Later, she heard the iron door open. She looked through the tiniest slits of her eyes she could muster while the two held a staring/glaring match. Oh shit, that’s the fame Talia Al Ghul, daughter of Ra’s, head of the League of Shadows, and the boy she was glaring at had some resemblance to her, so he must be her son, Dennis? Daniel? Damon?

"Damian, I hope you know what you should do."

Ohh..Damian. Where had she heard that name before?

"To be forcefully married to that little girl. She is no one special. Why am I getting married to her?"

Ouch, that hurts. Well, Damian, just because I forgot your name does not mean you can call me a little girl. I can also kill you very easily and painfully.

“Well, Jason, you are awake. You can be the best man for the wedding.”

“No. I don’t know what game you are playing but you better release us. B is gonna find us and you will pay. Let the girl go. She is innocent in all of this.” Red Helmet, Jason, is officially not going on her hit list for his atrocious fashion choices. But that red monstrosity still needs to go.

"Ladybug may not seem like it but she possesses great power that my father converted for centuries. Speaking of, she should be awake by now."

Marinette felt her hair being yanked. A little pain was expected but the really sharp claws digging into her scalp was not. Making her cry and tear up.

”I am so sorry, kit.” Plagg whispered in the kwami language, loosening his claws.

"Tch, See, she is more pathetic than I thought. She is not powerful." Damian growled out.

Geez, thanks for the compliment, it’s not like you ever had a tiny cat dig its claws into your scalp out of surprise. (Damian once had a kitten thrown at his head and if he knew about Plagg, he would have been sympathetic.) Marinette started begging for mercy, hoping they would buy the helpless girl out of the suit that is ill-suited for the job she had been chosen for and had no idea on how to escape.

“Like I thought, weak. She is not deserving of the title of my wife.”

Oh kwamis, what did she ever do to have such a picky groom? The more he insults her, the less she wants to be married to him.

"Appearance can be deceiving. Despite her demeanor, she is the current wielder of the Ladybug Miraculous and the Current Guardian. The old Guardian, the old fool had promised her in exchange for his protection."

Great, another reason to stop her mother from killing a senile old man.

"That doesn't mean I want to marry her. She is not worthy of an Al Ghul or a Wayne. Look at her, crying at the slightest feeling of pain."

So that’s where she heard it from. The boy was the son of the daughter of a guy who leads a secret order of assassins and a man that owns a multi-million business. How even did a billionaire meet an assassin, ends up in bed with her and lives? Something to think about for later. She quieted down her sobs, (beat that acting, Rossi) kept her voice low to hatch out a plan with Plagg in the kwami language while the mother-son duo bickered.

“Hey, Plagg before you go, you think I can do that thing, the one which your one of your past holders from Japan can do.”

“You have a lot of potential for destruction but you have not used the ring for a long time yet so I am not sure.”

“I will give it a go anyways. Nothing to lose after all. See you later, Plagg.” Marinette smiled, one that drove fear into the hearts of even the bravest of people. Plagg returned it, already loving the new Guardian before zipping out of the cell to do some scouting. Using the enhanced strength the French superheroine got from prolonged use of the Miraculous, she yanked the chains of the walls and wrapped them around Talia’s neck, cutting off her air supply.

The League of Assassins thought that they could kidnap her and get away with it. But they were no match for the daughter of Sabine Cheng, the deadly Blue Reaper. A high ranking member from the group of assassins and mercenaries called the Guild of Night, who had semi-retired. Kidnapping her was a bad move to make as it meant they had declared war on the Guild, despite the reason behind her abduction having a completely different intention.

She whispered as such to the older woman in her tight grip, making sure the League would know how much they had fucked up. After dropping the limp body, she took a deep breath and tried channeling some of her energy for what she was about to do.

Well, here goes nothing.

She breathed out on the shackles, turning it to rust.

Success!

She introduced herself as Lady and concentrated the energy from before into her hand, forming inky black orbs of destruction in order to free her fellow captives. She felt a little drained from doing magic out of the suit and tried not to show it. Plagg returned, informing her of where the Ra’s and the Pits were. She grinned at the thought of showing old Ra’s who the boss is and made sure he regretted ever messing with her. She explained about Plagg as vaguely as she can, no need to let anyone know about the miraculous than necessary. Sure her plan sounds insane but the boys don’t know who they were with.

She would worry about that curse after she got out of Nanda Parbat. Although she could probably find something in the grimoire to reverse it, she was still an amateur at magic so it was best to have a professional to take care of it. Marinette didn’t want to be with such an asshole, no matter how striking he looks in those regal robes.

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

Picking off the League assassins, one by one was easy especially in her transformed state. She hadn’t appraised her suit properly but from what she had seen, it wasn’t like Chat Noir’s leather get-up. She was armoured in vital areas and her colour scheme was mainly black with green accents. There were vials that were probably poisons and pouches which she decided to look at later. She still had a long braid as a tail from her brief stint as Lady Noire and she wondered why her suit was different. While hiding in a niche she found, she called the bakery via the comm in one of her various pouches.

“Hello?”

“Papa, it’s me, Marinette. Do you know where Maman is?”

“She went out of Paris, talking about how this League must pay. I think she is meeting up with several of her old friends. Are you alright, my little blossom? I know you can take care of yourself but I worry.” The relief in Tom’s voice was palpable. However, she was right and the Guild was going to war against the League. Marinette was adored by nearly everyone in the Guild due to her strangely bubbly and cheery personality in the harsh and brutal lifestyle.

“I am fine, Papa. Did Maman use the Horse to leave? And how are my friends?” She knew they might be in a panic after her disappearance.

“I think she did. I didn’t see Kalki when I went to feed the kwamis. Your friends panicked when they found out you were kidnapped. But they are fine now, mostly worried about you. Took care of some akumas and senti monsters by themselves. I think your fencer friend, Kagami, knows more about the League than she lets on.” Of course, she does. Her mother was a member of the Guild before being blinded due to a mission. Kagami and her actually first met during a reunion party of sorts.

“Thank you, Papa. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

She hung up and dialed the personal phone number her mother uses that only Marinette and her father knows about. She waited for the call to connect, trying to think of ways to stop her mother from storming into the League’s base of operation.

“Maman, it’s me. I know you want to attack the League right this minute. But I have a better plan. Can you get Tikki’s earrings from Alix? We can use them and the ring to destroy the Lazarus Pits. Make them really angry.” She peeked out of the niche she was hiding in. She had been there for a while and needed to move to gain some grounds.

“Where are you? And are you okay?” Panic and worry filled her usually composed mother’s voice.

“I am somewhere in Nanda Parbat and I am fine. I was nearly married off to Talia’s son but I am not now. I think.” Marinette replied. Better to rip that band-aid off before she showed up with her would-have-been-husband. She jumped out of the niche and looked

“Kalki, Full Gallop. Okay, we will talk about the ‘nearly married’ part later. What was this plan to destroy the Lazarus Pits?” Sabine thought she was already used to Marinette’s brand of craziness that was her normal but apparently, not.

“I am currently on my way there. Plagg said we need Tikki to get rid of them. Since the League pissed me off and by extension you and the rest of the Guild, I thought our first move against them is to destroy the Pits and a trail of bodies. By the way, can you get some cheese for Plagg?” Marinette ran through the halls, knocking out some poor sod with a whack on the head.

Silence. She thought Sabine had hung up when-

“Voyage. Alix, where are you? We need Tikki for one of Marinette’s insane plans. And Marinette, stay safe, sweety, I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”

“Bye, Maman. See you there.”

Marinette turned another corner, the last one before the path that leads to the entrance where the Lazarus Pits were. She only managed to find it with Plagg’s voice in her head, whispering directions and Tikki’s luck. Unfortunately, the luck ran out because the entrance had a lot of guards who had spotted her.

Crap.

She hoped her mother would get here soon. Thankfully, being transformed gave her a boost and would help her to hold her ground for a while.

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

Damian and Red Hood followed the trail of unconscious bodies and sounds of fights, trying to find Lady. Damian was impressed at the level of her skills to defeat many of the League’s assassins although he could probably do better. They relied on his memory to find the Lazarus Pits which was their best bet to finding her as she claimed to be able to destroy them. If Lady possessed such powers, they must find out whether she is a threat to the world or not. And also break the infernal curse they have.

Red Hood was silent mostly. He made a few jabs about how kick ass his ‘bride’ was and how the current Robin should not let her get away. Damian tried really hard not to just maim his adopted brother and also ignore that little fluttering in his chest that happened every time they saw an unconscious assassin left behind by Lady. The sounds of fighting got louder as they got nearer to the entrance. They turned the final corner to see Lady fighting against the guards who outnumbered her. But she seemed to be doing fine against them. Mostly.

One had slipped through her defenses and nearly stabbed her in the back if it weren’t for Damian grabbing one of Red Hood’s guns and shooting a rubber bullet to the neck. He jumped into the fight, grabbing the fallen assassin’s sword and taking out the knife he got from his mother. Jason joined in too, not going to let the two teens have all the fun.

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

“Thanks for the save, Al Ghul but I don’t know why you bothered when me being dead would solve your curse problem.” Lady said as the guards laid around them and they tried to catch their breath.

“It’s Wayne. I go by Wayne these days. Being an Al Ghul is not something I learned to be proud of. And as much as I don’t want this curse, your death is not worth that price.” he replied, “Although, I have to wonder why you would choose to die rather than live.”

She chuckled, “Okay, Wayne, to answer your question. Petty teenage drama makes death much more preferable. On top of that, I have responsibilities that I was practically forced into for doing one little act of kindness.” Her tone was joking but there was a touch of bitterness in it. It made Damian want to find out what caused it. Red Hood looked at her in concern. Lady went down the stairs, ignoring their reactions to her words. They followed her, not wanting to lose sight of her again.

The Lazarus Pits emitted a green glow that lit up the cave and cast strange shadows on the walls. At the edge of the glowing toxic green waters was a woman in dark blue clothing and strangely enough wearing sunglasses. Strapped to her sides were two Dao, ancient Chinese swords. She wore a vindictive expression on her face as she stood staring at the green lake, likely to kill anyone who gets in her way. Damian didn’t recognize the woman as part of the League but taking no chances, he got into a fighting stance and Hood did the same. Lady calmly approached the woman. He reached out to grab her to stop her suicidal nature when she shocked him by speaking to the blue-clad assassin in French,

“Hey, Maman, sorry I am late. I had a little trouble with the guards upstairs. You have Tikki?”

Lady’s mother rushed to hug her, “灵儿 (líng er), I am just glad you are alright. I knew you could handle yourself.”

How the hell did Lady’s mother get to the Lazarus Pits faster than them and snuck past several vigilant guards? Before Damian could question further, a red blur appeared and went to Lady’s face, hugging her cheek. It appeared to be the same size as Plagg but was red, looked like a bug and had a black dot on its forehead.

“Oh, Marinette, you are alright. I was so worried when your mother showed up, saying you were kidnapped and needed my earrings to escape.” Unlike Plagg’s nasally voice, her voice was sweet and shrill.

So, my bride’s name is Marinette. Such a unique name for an intriguing girl.

Wait what?

Wayne, stop thinking such ridiculous notions. That is probably the curse working. Resist against it. He will not be ensnared in the traps of such magic. He hoped that the curse will be reversed before he turns and act like those fools in Grayson’s idiotic shows or Todd’s ‘secret’ romance novels.

“I am fine now. See,” reassured Lady, “We actually need you and Plagg to reverse the Lazarus Pits to what it was before someone made the wish that resulted in them in the first place. Oh, I almost forgot. Plagg, claws in.”

Green light flashed, leaving Lady in her wedding robes (which actually flatter her body. Shit. Think of something else. Drake with a smug superior smile that needs to be wiped off his face. Grayson and his plans for ‘family bonding’) and Plagg to reappear.

“Cheese.” whined the cat-like kwami(?) to which the older woman held out a brown bag that smelled and made Plagg perk up in delight. He proceeded to open the bag, taking out a slice of stinky cheese, muttering about the greatness of camembert.

Todd cleared his throat and asked in English, “Umm...Pixie as much as your reunion is touching. Who’s the new lady?”

“Oh Right, sorry. Well, Red Hood, this is my mother, the Blue Reaper of the Guild of Night. Maman, this is Red Hood and the one next to him is my husband-to-be and Talia’s Spawn, Damian Wayne.”

Lady introduced them, also in English. Damian stilled in fear, recognizing the name. The Blue Reaper nearly became his mother-in-law. She was famous for her efficiency and ruthlessness. And gained her nickname from the blue clothing she often wore as she killed her targets. His eyes also widened at how his grandfather had gone a little too far now by kidnapping the Reaper’s daughter. There were other organizations that could possibly take down the League if it weren’t for the somewhat truce between Ra’s and the other leaders. The Guild was one of them and having the Lazarus Pits to revive their soldiers made the League a little more powerful. But if what the mother-daughter duo were planning succeeded, then the League was going to have one of its most deadly wars in its history and would probably never recover from.

“Tikki, Plagg, you guys ready?” asked Lady.

“Yes, Guardian.” They both replied and emitted a blinding red and green light which Damian shielded his eyes from. When it died down, the Lazarus Pits no longer glowed a toxic green and looked… like normal hot spring water.

“Oh. I wished I could see Ra’s face when he finds out.” Lady laughed. Plagg and Todd joined in.

“Pixie, I am beginning to like you.”

“Voyage. That being said, it’s time to go home, Marinette. Your father must be worried sick about us by now. I hope you boys can find your own way back.” A portal opened up, showing a cozy living room. Damian grabbed Lady’s wrist as she moved towards it.

“Wait, let us come with you. We need to contact someone to get rid of the curse on both of us. And we can also call our father to send us tickets for a ride home wherever you live.”

“Curse? Marinette, you never mentioned a curse in your call.” Blue Reaper said, raising her eyebrow.

“I will explain later. They can come with us and I am pretty sure Ra’s knows that we have escaped by now.” Lady grabbed the two brothers and dragged them through the portal.

She then threw herself onto the couch after releasing her hold on them and the two pocket gods went to comfort her after her ordeal. The Blue Reaper stood where the other portal was and fed a floating tiny gray horse, that must be the same species as Tikki or Plagg, some sugarcubes.

“You boys must be tired but the showers are upstairs and we might have some clothes your size. Dinner will be ready in an hour. You can stay the night if you want. Welcome to Paris.”

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

Tag list: @alysrose-starchild, @buginetye, @lookatthestars1, @blackroserelina, @macncheesemonster, @mochinek0, @myazael, @tonicxworld, @thewitchwhowaited, @t1dwarrior-of-earth, @kissa-chan, @iwantasecretidentity, @theymakeupfairies, @user00000003, @woe-is-me0, @kashlyn, @mochegato,@moonlightstar64 , @greatcatblaze, @moongoddesskiana, @tazanna-blythe. @tonicxworld, @toodaloo-kangaroo, @frieddonutsweets, @local-witch-of-mn, @lady-bee-fechin, @iglowinggemma28, @indecisive-mess-named-me, @k-tea-and-coffee, @jayjayspixiepop, @all-mights-asscheeks, @idk-j-go-with-it , @loysydark, @thenillabean, @lolieg, @zalladane, @silvergold-swirl

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

(Part 5)

[pixiedust-designs]

Idk if anyone else has asked, but I’d be like to see the first time naga!Tommy nommed Wilbur, if that’s alright?

Here’s the angsty naga noms I was talking about and completely forgot to actually write….sorry if you didn’t want something this angsty anon. But as I was writing I just kept adding warnings. Sorry not sorry.

This is part two to another story I wrote. This takes place like a month or two before the other one.

(Warnings: safe vore, mouth play, fearplay, swearing, talk of death, thinking one is going to die, talk of not safe vore, panic attack, minor injury)

———————————————————————

Willbur ran through the woods sweat dripping down his face. He looked back to see he was still being fallowed. He was, trees were being torn down behind him. He yelled as he almost his a tree when he looked forwards again. He stumbled into a clearing, his legs were going to give out he thought. He tried running through the clearing to get out of direct sight, but he wasn’t quick enough. A giant pale hand reached from him from the trees. He screamed only just dodging the clawed hand. He had to get out of here! He was so tired and he knew he was only being played with. He was almost tempted to just give up, but he know he would die if he did. He didn’t want to die. He screamed as yet another giant hand reached for him.

He had been trying to get to Tommy’s cave. A young naga he had meet a few weeks ago. He had first thought Tommy was going to kill him. But the red naga only seemed to want a friend. So he talked to the kid for a few hours and he was let go. He had gotten more curious and had gone back to find Tommy. He got lost and Tommy found him. He seemed surprised that Willbur had come back to see him. He spent the night in Tommy’s cave. He started to actually like the giant naga. So he kept coming back much to Tommy’s surprise. And today was supposed to be like any other meet up. But he had been found by another even bigger naga on his way there. This one was green and had made it very clear what he wanted to do with Willbur.

Willbur gasped for air as he was picked up in a tight fist. He struggled as much as he could. But it wasn’t going to do anything. He was going to die. He was pulled close to the green nagas mouth and screamed as a forked tongue slipped out to taste him.

“Mmhmm… very nice.” They naga smiled. “You taste even better then you smell.” The naga purred.

“N-no! Don’t eat me!” He got one arm free from the grip. He tried pushing the nagas face away from him. He only succeed in getting his arm licked more. “Let me go!” He screamed, his voice already sore.

“I don’t think I will little snack.” The naga smiled showing off all their sharp fangs in front of Willbur.

“N-no! The village will know I’m missing and come after you! W-with swords and hunters!” He yelled. “You can’t kill me!”

“You think some little humans scare me? Just more snacks to me.” He brought Willbur even closer to his mouth. So he could feel the hot humid breath wash over him.

“You can’t just-” Willbur was cut off as he was shoved half way into the nagas mouth. He yelled as he felt sharp teeth clamp down on his waist. He kicked his feet a little so scared to move much. Or he’d cut in half. He push trying to force open the mouth. His arm slipped on the slick surface, he cut his arm on a sharp fang. He long tongue instantly curled around the injury tasting his blood. He sobbed, pretty sure he was having a panic attack. He realized he’s not going home tonight. The wet tongue curled around him coating him in thick saliva. He had lost all his energy to fight back long ago. All he could do was lay limp as he was sucked on like he was a piece of candy.

“I caught it, it’s mine.” They green naga said.

“It was in my territory, so by the rules it’s mine to eat. Unless you want me to tell the grand counsel how you are disobeying the rules Dream.” Tommy said firmly.

Willbur froze hearing Tommy call him a it. And mention how he was going to eat him. His panic riddled mind couldn’t fully figure the rest of it out. Counsel? What was that? All he knew was that he now had two nagas wanting to eat him. One of which he thought had been a friend….

Willbur whimpered as apparently Dream, as the green naga was called, growled at being told to hand Willbur over.

“You won’t.” Dream said glaring at the younger.

“You know I will. And you know Phil will listen to me.” Tommy threaten. He looked a little smug about it too.

Dream squeezed Willbur in his fist making him scream. He could feel his already bruised ribs bending at the pressure. He thought he might pass out. Finally he was let go, dropped into a more familiar pair of hands. He curled up, too weak and scared to move. More gentle fingers curled up around him rubbing his back. He hated that he felt comfort from it. Tommy wasn’t going to keep him safe. Not anymore.

“Well?” Dream questioned.

“What?” Tommy growled. He wanted to keep Willbur close to comfort him, but he couldn’t with Dream still here.

“Are you going to eat it or what?” He glared. He wasn’t leaving till he saw the human taken care of.

“I- I like eating in private.” Tommy cursed his stuttering. This wasn’t the plan! Dream was supposed to leave.

“No. Eat it now, or I will.” Dream said with a growl.

“I-“ Tommy looked panicked looking down at Willbur. He didn’t look good…. Tommy couldn’t help but think he looked broken. In more ways then one. He could eat Willbur and keep him safe at the same time. But he hated to do that to the human. But he didn’t have another choice.

“Fine, I’ll eat hi- it now.” He sighed. He brought Willbur up to his mouth being as gentle as possible without it being noticeable. He placed Willbur in him mouth cringing at the taste of blood. He hope he wasn’t too injured.

“Tommy…?” He whimpered as he was out in yer another mouth. He hoped Tommy would feel at lest a little bad about eating him.

The tongue slid over his arm making him gasped in pain. Everything froze, going still as he held his arm close, crying at the pain. Then everything moved. Gravity shifted and he slid back to the back of the mouth. “No, no no no no no..” Willbur muttered. “No! Tommy don’t please! Don’t do this! Please I don’t want to die! Tommy!” He screamed as he was swallowed back.

Tommy felt his heart beak hearing Willbur scream for his life. He wished he could tell him he’d be ok. That Tommy was just keeping him safe. He glared at Dream in full anger. “Now leave.” He said voice cold and calm. To calm.

Dream seemed to understand he wasn’t welcomed and slithered out of sight. “I better not see you again Dream! I’ll kill you! If I see you again!” Tommy yelled after him. He sighed head foggy from rage. He gasped as he remembered he needed to check on Will. He placed his hands over where he felt the small human in his brooding pouch. He wasn’t even moving… Tommy’s began to panic. “W-Willbur? Are you ok?” He asked gently pressing down on him.

Willbur curled up tight in a ball not bothering to move from where he had fallen into the stomach. He huffed hearing Tommy ask if he was ok.

“No! I’m not alright you dickhead!” He screamed. He was confused angry and sad. He just stared yelling. “How dare you do this! I thought we were friends! You- you said you wouldn’t hurt me. That you’d keep me safe. Was all that a lie? We’re you just going to eat me this whole time?” He was sobbing by the end of his rant. Hot angry tears ran down his face.

“No, of course it wasn’t all a lie! We are friends Willbur. I promise you’re safe. I just had to eat you so Dream wouldn’t.” He wanted to cry hearing Willburs words. He really thought he was going to die.

“Oh? Then let me out of here if you’re not going to hurt me!” He challenged.

“I-I can’t. I’m so sorry I would, but you’re so injured I don’t want to hurt you worse by bringing you back up.” He started to head home. Back to the cave.

“That’s what I thought.” Willbur sighed. He struggled to move and get more comfortable. Though he was probably going to be really uncomfortable in a second….

“I promise that your safe. You’ll see, in the morning I’ll let you out. Promise.” Tommy said. And he will. Willbur might not even come see him again. But at lest the human world be alive. Willbur hating him, was better then Willbur being dead.

He didn’t have enough energy to think let alone do anymore yelling. His whole body hurt. He curled up with the small hope burning in his chest, that maybe Tommy was telling the truth. He’d just have to see in the morning. He drifted off to sleep not wanting to be awake if he died.

Tommy got back to his cave curling up in his nest. He curled his tail protectively around his middle. He felt Willbur get heavier as he fell asleep. He hoped he could explain more in the morning. He had finally found someone who actually seemed to want to hang around him. But of course Willbur would never want to see him again now. He quietly cried himself to sleep that night. He had lost his only friend.

[acourtofsnakes]

Ret'urcye Mhi - Rogue, Chapter 7 | The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (F)

Summary: Can things go back to normal after the Mandalorian saw you break down? Or have walls been torn down that can’t be replaced?

Warnings: Light swearing, I don’t want to give it away but no smut but… a ‘moment’ with some certainly hot thoughts and pining but nothing heavy though, reader has a back tattoo, let me know if I forgot anything!

AN: I have brought in Cara Dune in this, and she will be a frequent character. I by no means condone what Gina Carano did, and I am pleased and relieved that she is gone. However, I do like her character, as many others do. She IS only mentioned in this one briefly but will be a main character in a few future chapters. 

Also, Readers tattoo is loosely based on this design!(link)  I’m not sure who the exact creator is, but it was posted by Urban Threads on Pinterest, but if you know, please tell me! ❤️

Word Count: 8231

As always, credit to whoever owns the gif. I usually find them on Google or Pinterest, so message me if it’s yours ♥︎

Rogue Taglist:  @snipskixandbeskar   @weirdowithnobeardo @the-bottom-of-the-abyss​ @jackgrzs

Rogue Masterlist | Introduction| 1: Solus| 2: Arir | 3: Tor | 4: Gaa'tayl | 5: Kyr’am | 6: Cabur | 7: Ret'urcye Mhi |

Mando’a Translation: Ret'urcye mhi - Goodbye

Neither of you mentioned that afternoon. 

It hadn’t come up in the 3 days since, and it hadn’t come up today. You made sure of it. 

Every time Mando looked at you, and you just felt he was going to mention it, you’d change the subject. Or just walk away. You didn’t need to have that conversation with him. You couldn’t have that conversation with him. Or anyone. 

The Mandalorian had sat there, holding you for the hours it took for you to cry yourself out. When the shuddering sobs had given way to hitched breaths and a numb stare, he’d still sat there. Rubbing your back in gentle circles, in time with Duru’s tail gently swaying over your arm. He hadn’t uttered a single word either, just letting you break down in his arms. 

When the quiet ambiance of the ship and the pressure of his hand had lulled you into sleep, he’d carried you to his bed – well, the narrow cot that jutted out from the wall in what was supposed to be the medical area. He’d given up his sleeping compartment to Grogu a long time ago, to keep the little creature warm and safe. 

He’d laid you in, covering you with the blanket and then one more that he pulled out from a unit. 

You were asleep, so you hadn’t seen the way his gloved fingers gently brushed back the hair from your tear flushed cheeks, the way they’d lingered for a moment as he’d looked down at the soft strands gliding over his fingers. You hadn’t felt the way he’d frozen when a sudden want crashed through him, to yank off his gloves and run his bare hands through your hair, feel the silkiness and the texture for himself. 

And you also wouldn’t have noticed the way his breathing went ragged for a moment and he’d lurched back, stumbling away so quickly he nearly overturned a box on his way out of the door. 

Your sleep hadn’t remained easy. Only a few hours later, you had woken up screaming, unsure of where you were, why you were on a thin cot that smelled like metal and smoke and something distinctly unique and almost like sandalwood. It was somehow comforting, soothing. You had inhaled the scent, trying to calm down your pounding heard and regain control of your breathing.  

It was only when you could suck in a full breath that you realised where you were, who’s bed this was. 

A feeling of gratefulness had crashed over you, only to be immediately wiped out by shame. You had broken down in front of him, spat such awful, awful things to his face.

And when you heard footsteps outside the compartment door, the husky baritone of his voice as he called out your name softly, you’d gone still. Like you were back on the run, mere inches away from a hunter and one move would mean disaster. 

He’d lingered, you could see by the shadows of his feet under the tiny gap at the bottom of the door. A wild thought had come to you, that he had his hand pressed to the door and you could just.. open it. Open it and let him come in, let him carry the burden of your nightmares and your feelings even If it was just for a little while. You could share some of those plaguing thoughts that you’d unleashed today. And he would listen. You didn’t know him that well, but you knew him enough to be confident he would sit there, let you talk. He knew what it was like to be alone, to have emotions and worries that you had no choice to bear yourself. 

The temptation was so strong, you craved that contact and connection so much that you were halfway across the room before your snarling argument came back in full technicolour. The things you’d said to him. The appalling way you’d acted. 

No.

You couldn’t see him. You couldn’t face him after that. After what you had said and the way you had cracked. You shook your head firmly, waiting until you heard a sigh so soft you might have imagined it and retreating footsteps. 

It was only then you that you returned to the bed, pulling the twin blankets up high over your shoulders. 

You’d deal with seeing him in the morning, but for now, all you could do was bury your face in the thin pillow and try not to notice how it smelt like him.

Something had changed between the two of you since that afternoon. He had glimpsed a part of you that you normally kept perfectly hidden, even from yourself. 

…

You were on your way to another bounty, one of the last couple of pucks that Mando had left. 

Mando had mentioned it was a hot, desert planet and he’d prefer it if you stayed in the ship with Grogu. It’d be far too hot for the little guy out there. You had obliged happily, more than fine to stay in. You didn’t like to be too hot, it made you uncomfortable and agitated. 

The cockpit was quiet, a peaceful silence had descended upon it as Mando flew the ship. 

You’d found yourself drawn to watching his hands lately. There was something… oddly soothing about it. Watching him work the controls, hold Grogu, clean his weapons. 

You wondered if he missed the sensation of touch, and then wondered if yours and the kids presence here made it harder for him. Meant he had less chances to take off his armour and be free of it. 

Of course, that had then led you onto the thought of wondering if he slept naked when he was alone. 

The thought of him lying there, nothing hiding him, separating him from the world. 

The thin blankets sliding over the body you knew was toned, yet soft enough in all the right places. 

It made your mouth a little dry, your cheeks a little pink and you struggled to find something else to think about. 

Your eyes drifted to his hands again, remembering the sound of the gloves being drawn off the other night. 

They were mesmerising, agile, and you couldn’t stop thinking about them in your hair, on your skin. 

Stars above, get a grip, girl. 

You mentally scolded yourself for these thoughts, trying to steer your damned imagination onto something more appropriate. 

Luckily, your saviour came in the form of Mando himself. He tilted his head back slightly, enough for you to know he was talking to you, “What’s your favourite planet? Or one you’d like to visit?” 

The question surprised you, you had to admit. You weren’t used to people asking about your likes and dislikes. You smiled though, perhaps this was his gentle way to break any tension left over. “Hmm… I think… I’d have to say the planet I’d like to visit most... either Hoth or Coruscant.”

Mando laughed, that gorgeous rough, honey laugh, “Okay, Coruscant I can understand, but Hoth? Really?”

You pouted at the back of his head, “Yes!! It sounds beautiful.”

The Mandalorian laughed more, “Beautiful? Sweetheart, it’s covered in ice. It’s freezing there. All you would see is ice and snow… and more ice and more snow.”

You scowled at him now, throwing the leftover wrapper of Grogu’s cookies at his helmet, “And? Snow and ice are stunning. They’re powerful and strong. I’ve only ever been in a proper snowfall once, and I fell in love. The way the flakes float down and.. dance even if there’s the faintest breeze. And then when they land on your skin or your eyelashes like little cold kisses… The sound it makes under your boots when you walk on a fresh fall. And it softens everything, makes it easier on your eyes to see across the landscape… it’s quiet, muffled… Besides, I like the cold.”

Little did you know, Mando was grinning like an idiot under his helmet, adoring the way you defend it to him, the way you describe something as simple as ice and snow. “You like the cold, huh? Then why are you always grumbling that the heating is broken?” The teasing lilt to his voice was evident, so animated and content, compared to his usual cooler, calm silence.

You opened your mouth, then closed it again. “That is… completely irrelevant.” You looked at the back of his head, “What about you? If my choices are so hilarious.”

The Mandalorian made a thoughtful noise, “I wouldn’t say there’s one place in particular… But… there’s a few sanctuary planets dotted around. Places with really pretty, dense forests where you could walk for days and not spot anyone else. They’re protected and safe, no dangerous animals or anything allowed… literally sanctuaries. I’d like to take Grogu there… let him wander and have fun and eat things he shouldn’t without having to look over my shoulder.” 

It was the most you’d ever heard him speak in one go, and there was a tenderness in his voice that brought tears to your eyes. This man truly loved his little green adoptive son and would do anything for him. “That sounds... stunning. I’ve heard of those planets and always wondered what they were like...” 

He made a hum of agreement, fingers working over the control panel as he put it in autopilot. “One day…” He turned around in his chair, “What about your favourite colour?” 

You moved to sit cross-legged in the seat, defying the concept of a chair. “Blue. Darker blues, like a midnight blue.” You swayed your chair from side to side slightly, “Actually, the same colour as the cloak you got me. So well done, kudo’s for you.”

Mando leant back in his own chair, tapping the side of his helmet before resting his hands on his thighs again. “This thing lets me read minds; you know.”

You began pulling the pins from your hair, “Mmhm, and I can fly.” You raise an eyebrow at him, grinning. 

He chuckled, watching you intently behind the helmet though you wouldn’t know that, watching every pin get removed from holding up your hair, “It wouldn’t surprise me at this point, princess.” He tapped his thighs absently, “You wanna know the real secret?”

You nodded, reaching in for a pin that had become stuck deep in your hair, the last one. “Surprise me.” Got it. You yanked the pin out, letting your hair fall down and your fingers through it. You sighed a little in relief as you rubbed your fingertips against your scalp, chasing away any tightness from the day. 

Mando didn’t say anything. He was too distracted, to struck into silence by the sight of your hair. 

The light from the ship and coming in through the windows turned some of the strands to gold, igniting them with that fire that blazed within you – and that he’d been on the receiving end. 

His hands tightened over his thighs, because he was overtaken by a craving, a need to remove your hands and feel your hair for himself. 

It wasn’t the first time he’d had these thoughts. 

Fuck, he’d been having these thoughts since he first saw you. He just hadn’t realised them until that night he’d nearly lost his life and woken up to you passed out on his chest. 

He’d frozen, even his breathing stopping as he felt the warm weight of you, even though the armour. 

He couldn’t bear to move you, to take away that pressure, the closeness of another human that he had missed for so long. 

So, he hadn’t. He left you there. Spent hours watching you sleep, the warmth of your breath slightly fogging up the armour on his chest. 

“Lori? Anyone in there?” You tilted your head, watching the man before you that was staring at you intently, his breathing somewhat ragged. 

He startled slightly, coming back to himself, “Huh?”

You chuckled, “Where did you go? I was waiting for you to knock me off my feet with your revelation.”

He made a noise, “Uh… I.. actually can’t remember...” He tugged at his glove, an odd gesture so at odds with his usual confident demeanour. 

You tilted your head, still smiling a little, “Are you okay?”

Luckily, he was saved from answering by the beeping of the controls behind him. 

You’d arrived at the planet. 

~

It was hot. 

Beyond hot. 

The air was warm, the water was warm, you were warm. 

And already awake, having just calmed your breathing down from another nightmare, when you heard Grogu, his little coos and gurgled filtering down the hall to you. 

The poor little creature had probably woken up from the heat. You had been on this desert planet for a couple of days, opting to stay in and look after the Child whilst Mando hunted down the bounty. The days here were scorching, a dry heat that sucked the life from you immediately. Even the nights were hot, unlike normal freezing desert nights. 

Mando had returned this evening, panting from the heat after coming up from the carbonite chamber. “I swear it’s getting hotter out there.”

The cooling system on the Crest was just as temperamental as the heating, so it wasn’t exactly cool in here. The metal floors, which were normally always chilled, were warm underfoot. Mando had let you keep his room, and it was just as hot, being contained in with itself, so you’d been sleeping with the doors open. 

Not that it made a dent. Every single closed space was like a heat trap, especially Grogu’s little compartment. So, no wonder he had woken up. 

You stretched, then slipped from the cot and made your way to Grogu.

It didn’t take long to settle him, he was all tuckered out from the games you’d been playing today, so after patting his skin with a cool cloth, he had fallen back under. 

You were now at the small ‘kitchen’ area in the ship, washing out the cloth. You huffed, splashing some water on your wrists and pulling out the pin that was holding up your hair, and falling out. Grogu had a habit of tugging the ends of your hair in his little fist. 

You’d taken to wearing a thin floaty dress to bed, one you’d picked up in that market before it had turned into a horror show. The material was gauzy, allowing the heat to escape your body without it sticking to your clammy skin. What helped enormously was the large cut out in the back. It secured at the back of your neck, and then fell open, exposing almost your whole back before joining again at the base of your spine. 

It was probably the flimsiest, most sinful thing you’d ever worn, but it was gorgeous and hey, it did the job. 

You rolled your shoulders, pressing the cool cloth to your neck and you couldn’t help the sigh that escaped your lips and you could have sworn you heard a sizzle. 

Footsteps behind you startled you, breaking you from your reverie, and then Mando’s voice filtered through the silence, “Are you okay?”

You turned around, smiling when you saw him because he was still in all his armour… not that you were surprised. He must have been boiling though, under all those heavy layers. 

You nodded, lifting the cloth from your neck, “The kid was awake, but I settled him down, he was really warm.”  

His head was covered, naturally, so you wouldn’t have seen the way his eyes followed a bead of water rolling down your neck, and the unbidden thought of his tongue catching it “Thank you for seeing to him, I didn’t hear..” 

Weird. Normally he was so attuned to Grogu, hearing him before he even woke up if you were sitting together. Maybe he was tired, from his hunting. 

What you didn’t know, couldn’t know, was that he had been staring at the ceiling for the 3rd night in a row. Having thoughts that he should not be having, his body yearning for things it shouldn’t. 

You shook your head, still smiling and turned back to the sink area, “It’s no worries, I was awake anyway so… And you’ve been hunting. You deserve the rest.” You set down the cloth, running your hands through your hair and reaching for your pin to secure it back up. You faced him again, gathering your hair in your hands, “How was it?”

But he wasn’t listening. 

He suddenly moved forward, and then he was in front of you. “Wait.” His voice was low, almost strained. There was a husk to it that hadn’t been there before, but it ignited something within you. 

You froze, your hands still stuck in your hair. You looked up at him, raising your eyebrows slightly, “What..?” It was only now he was right in front of you that you could see his chest, rising and falling rapidly. “Mando, are you okay?”

He shook his head quickly, his helmet tilted down to you, his hands curling and uncurling at his sides, “Let your hair down.” His voice was still that rumbly order, and it was such an odd request that you did just that, letting it tumble back down again. Your own hands trembled slightly as you lowered them. 

A shudder seemed to roll through his body, and he rocked forward on his feet, lurching toward you in a movement that lacked his usual smooth elegance. It was unsteady, unsure. 

He stopped when he was a mere few inches away, the closest you’d been to each other since that afternoon. 

This close, you could practically feel the heat roiling off of him under his armour, and you tilted your head up to meet him, concern in your eyes, “Mando, you need to go and have a cold shower.. You sound like you’re burning up… do you feel flushed?” 

He shook his head jerkily, his hands raising, “Shh… please. I just.. I need to..” He broke off, a sharp intake of air cutting his words. 

Something else began to curl through the worry in your belly, like some instinct knew things you didn’t. You swallowed, your voice low when you next spoke, “You need to what..?”

The Mandalorian was shaking, his body tensing and untensing like he was fighting himself, telling himself not to do this. “I.. I need to touch your hair.” 

Stars, you could feel the flush that crept up his neck and cheeks, like it burned through his helmet but you stayed completely still. 

His words were whispered through gritted teeth, like he was physically trying to bite them back, “I just... I need to do this, please… I’m sorry, but I cant-” He sounded like he was in pain, still breathing raggedly. 

Heat flared through your blood, igniting a flame within you that was irresistible. You nodded, letting him see you, “Okay.” Like you could say no to him. 

The vocoder nearly didn’t pick up the huff of relief that escaped his lips and he curled his hands into fists again, “Turn around. And close your eyes.” That rough command was back and you were more than obliging to let him navigate this moment. 

You turned around, facing the kitchen area, looking over the darkened surroundings before shutting your eyes. It immediately threw all your other senses into overdrive, so you could hear every single rasp of his breath as you exposed your skin to him, and the pounding of your own heart. 

“You have to keep them closed. You cannot turn around or look.” There was a desperate plea in his voice, an edge to it that hurt your very soul. He was audibly torn, between his Creed… and this desire that he seemed to have given into. 

You nodded again, aching to reach back and reassure him, “I won’t. I won’t open my eyes or turn around until you tell me, I swear on it, Lori.” You let every ounce of truth and understanding seep through your words, praying that it would be enough to convince him he could trust you. 

Seemingly, it was, because the next noise that you heard could have struck you dead. 

It was the sound of leather rubbing against skin, the friction as they were pulled off, then a soft thump of the material on the floor. 

He had taken off his gloves. 

He was standing behind you… with his hands bare. 

You. A person he hasn’t known for very long at all, and he was partially bare, uncovered. 

Your head exploded, a million thoughts racing through it once, sending your heart into overdrive and your own breathing rapid and unsteady. 

There was a pause, like he was steeling himself and then… then the slightest sensation, like he was catching the ends of your hair, just brushing them. 

That simple movement sent a shiver down your spine, and it was enough to get him to move more. He lifted his hands and then you felt fingers slide into your hair at the back of your head, then slowly, slowly, drag down the length. 

You heard a sharp intake of breath behind you, and then a soft mutter, “It’s so soft..” You barely picked it up, even though the ship was silent. The fingers ghosted through your hair again, and his voice was bewildered, “How do you get it this soft in that tiny ‘fresher..” It was like he was talking to himself. 

You couldn’t help the soft laugh, a release of tension from this whole thing, “I can’t reveal my secrets, Lori. Can’t have your hair being softer than mine. There’s only room for one on this ship.”

He chuckled, and it ran over your bones like honey, dousing them in such a sweet sensation. “I’ll get it out of you one way or another, princess.” 

You rolled your eyes but didn’t get the chance to speak because then his fingers were running up your scalp from the base of your head to the crown, with a light pressure and the feeling was so unbelievably good, that you couldn’t help it. Your head leant back into his touch and the faintest sigh left your lips. “Keep doing that..” Your cheeks flushed, embarrassment crashing over you. Why did you have to say that?

The Mandalorian’s hands had paused, absorbing that soft sigh of pleasure and trying to cool his body. But you had a hold over him, he couldn’t say no. He merely did it again, with a firmer press of his fingers against your scalp, a light scrape of his nails just to get you to make that noise again, to be convinced that you were enjoying this just as much as he was.

You didn’t stop the next sigh, this one louder, more delighted. It was like you knew what the other was thinking, could read each other that well.  

He was driving you insane, rendering you speechless just from playing with your hair. 

You don’t know how long you stood there for, his hands running through the soft locks. 

He lifted it slightly, then made a soft noise. “I didn’t know you had a tattoo.”

A tattoo? Oh right. 

It was true, you did. It was a delicate piece, spanning from the top of your spine to just above your hips, lining your spine. It showed the phases of the moon, drawn in a minimalist style, with small stars and additional lines coming out of every other piece. 

You nodded quickly, “I’ve had it for years.” Fuck, could your voice sound anymore needy?

“What does it mean?” His words were murmured and then the next thing could have had you on your knees. 

You heard a sound that had haunted you since the night he nearly died, the sound of leather sliding over skin. The soft plop as it fell to the floor. 

No way. Has he just..

His fingers, his bare fingers ghosted down your spine, following the line of it with a touch so fleeting it almost made you whine. 

In fact, it did, a whimper rising from deep in your chest. 

He was touching you. 

His bare skin, skin that he had sworn by Creed to keep covered and hidden until marriage, was trailing down your spine as light as wings. 

Pleasure shot straight though you, making your nerves and blood sing, making your knees shake and your belly hot. 

A tug on your hair, a tug that was sharp enough to send a faint tinge of pain through your scalp had you moaning, you couldn’t help it. Your lips parted and the moan fell from them, soft, a little high and drawn. 

Mando swore under his breath, his whole body twitching behind yours, “I asked you a question, sweetheart.” There was a hoarseness to his voice that hadn’t been there before, a straining note like your moan had shot right through him. Which is had. 

What does it mean… what does it mean? Focus!!

“Um… right. When I was on the run, initially in the beginning, I never had a place to call home. Everything I knew had been torn away, and I could never settle anywhere. Every night, I would look up into the sky and watch the moon. No matter what planet I was on, no matter where I was, or if there two moons or 4, it was always there. I only had to look up, and there was something up there to ground me, give me some sense of comfort. It might look smaller, or be a different colour, but it was still the moon. And it made me feel… safe. Like it was a… a companion in a way. I just had to look a little closer, beneath the colours or the distance and there it was. It was always in the sky, so I wanted to get it tattooed so that it would always be with me. No matter if I was outside, as free as I could be, or inside and trapped.” You flushed a little, “That probably makes no sense and sounds so stupid.”

You could sense the Mandalorian shaking his head, his voice still low and soft, “No.. I think it’s beautiful. And I get it. I move around so much too, there’s only a few things that always remain the same. So I know the value of having something familiar.” He ghosted his fingers down it again, trailing all the way down to where the cut out portion of your dress stopped and then back up again. 

When his hand reached the top of the tattoo, he slid it up further, cupping the back of your neck in his broad, warm hand. 

It sent electricity shooting across your skin, that blazed as he wrapped his thumb and fingers around either side of your neck, just a gentle pressure there. 

You moaned again; you didn’t even try to hide it. Your head fell back, exposing your throat to him in a sign of instinctual submission, even though you knew he wouldn’t kiss you. You didn’t mind, you just needed more, more than this teasing touch, more than the faint brush of his fingertips. Your chest shuddered, knuckles white as you gripped the counter in an effort to stay still, “Lori…” You whined his name, hoping it would spark something in him, would force him to do something. 

You felt him shudder again, felt his hips draw back from your body like he was trying to hide just what these noises did to him. 

Fuck. 

It burned you, turned your belly molten and the power that washed over you was heady. You had turned him on just from your hair, your skin and your moans. 

The voice that came out was equally as tight, husky and you might have lived and died inside the low baritone “What is it, princess?”

Your fingers curled around the side of the counter in front of you, and you were glad he couldn’t see your face when you whispered, “Please..”. Your voice was low, pleading and aching. 

You felt him shudder behind you, a tiny groan echoing through the helmet.

His next words nearly undid you there and then, “Like I could say no to you.”

Then his fingers pressed into your spine, caressing down your back over the tattoo with such admiration, such warmth that it arched slightly, chasing more of that sensation. 

Your head was spinning, convinced you were dreaming, that this wasn’t real. 

This didn’t happen between you both. 

You flirted, sure. But that was harmless, playful. 

This… this was real. He was letting you feel his bare skin, uncovered and unhidden. 

And it was tearing you apart. 

The scrape of his thumbnail on your skin tore you from those thoughts, ripped you back to the present as it ran down the curve of your back. If your eyes had been open, they would have rolled into the back of your head. 

Your head fell forward, back arching completely into him and the sound that you let out was sinful. You could only concentrate on the that sharp, pleasurable hurt that you felt in your belly, the feeling of his other hand as it held your shoulder, holding you in that arch. 

Heat pooled low in your belly, and every dream, every thought you’d been trying to suppress about him came blasting into full technicolour. All because of his hands. 

Those damn hands you’d been pining over since saving his life. 

His head was so close over your shoulder that you could hear the low pant of his breath, the coolness of his armour barely brushing your shoulders as you pressed back into him. 

Fuck, did he want this as much as you did? 

By the way his hand tightened, he had to. You didn’t know how you knew it, but you did. 

You swallowed, licking your lips to say something, anything, spur him on but a harsh beeping suddenly broke through the thick tension on the room. A light was flashing, and by the time the fog of pleasure cleared in your head, he was gone. 

Gloves picked up and yanked on, boots disappearing up the ladder into the cockpit to check on the autopilot. 

The taut sensation in your body snapped, making you sink to the floor as though the strings had been cut.

You lifted shaking hands to your face, burying them in them with a low noise. Your head was a mess, you couldn’t get over it. Couldn’t stop feeling his fingers on your back, your hair. Hear the ragged pant of his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest against your shoulders. 

It was just touch, just the simple act of touch but it had igniting something so fierce within you. 

Something had changed. 

What the fuck was that?

You sat there on the floor for Maker knows how long, before dragging yourself up and hurrying off in search of a very, very cold shower. 

~

You weren’t quite sure how to face him the next morning. 

You had taken your cold shower, and it had done nothing to cool the fire in your blood so you had to take the initiative, hoping the crash of the water and the fact you were biting down the back of your free hand would cover the desperate moans you made. 

Little did you know, the Mandalorian was going through the exact same thing, back arched, lips biting into his lip to stop the groans. 

You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it, stop thinking about what had occurred between you. 

Surely it broke some kind of rules of his Creed?

He had touched you with his bare skin. You weren’t married. You weren’t together. You didn’t even know his name. 

Yet he had touched you and.. reacted to you. 

Maybe that was just instinct, his body’s natural response to such things. 

But he had carried on… until you were disturbed anyway. 

Your head went round and round in these circles until your body had calmed down enough to sleep. 

…

You rose early, wanting to be washed, dressed and ready and doing something to occupy you before you had to think too much about what you were going to say.  Maybe just… Good morning?

Sure. Good morning was fine. 

Normal. 

It totally didn’t reveal what you’d had to do in the shower, or the thoughts you were still having about it. 

You had this discussion with yourself all the way up the ladder of the cockpit, and when you rose to your height, you blurted it out in a cheery voice before you could bail, “Morning!”

Breezy. Nailed it. 

The Mandalorian was sitting in the pilot’s chair, fiddling with controls and levers, gloves firmly on. “Good morning. Did you sleep okay in the heat?” 

You nodded, sinking down into the pilots chair and feeding Duru a treat, “Yes, thank you. Finally.” You stroked under Duru’s chin, your eyes straying to those hands as he slide them over some switches. 

The same hands that had cupped the back of your neck and trailed fire down your spine. 

A flush started to creep along your cheeks, so you quickly looked away, “Did you?”

The light bounced off of his helmet as he nodded, “Yes, thank you.”

Polite. His words were polite. Almost... distant. 

Okay… Okay, so maybe he just feels awkward?

You bit your bottom lip, worried if you should say something. 

No, leave it. He no doubt feels over-exposed and maybe shy about what happened last night. Don’t bring it up. Just act normal.

You nodded faintly to yourself and returned your attention back to Duru. 

~

Mando was ignoring you. 

You had been trying to deny it, but he most certainly was. 

Yesterday, he had engaged in talking to you now and then throughout the day, but only passing comments and a few spare words. 

You had spoken more when you were beating the shit out of each other. 

You kept telling yourself that it was just lingering awkwardness from how to go back to normal after that night, but the gnawing in your gut told you otherwise. 

It had been shouting at you this morning when he had parked the ship on a planet, announced he was going hunting and he’d be back in a few hours. 

Then he’d just gone. 

You had waited for him all day, mooched around the ship, played with Grogu and Duru and tried not to worry. 

You sat up for hours, even when the little ones had gone to sleep, waiting to talk to him. 

You’d convinced yourself that you should talk about. You should tell him you didn’t expect anything from him. That you didn’t hate him, that he didn’t hurt you or anything like that. 

Just to tell him whatever you needed to stop this frostiness. 

You had it all planned, had every phrase and comment worked out to stop this atmosphere. 

About 15 minutes ago, you’d heard the ramp open. 3 minutes after that, the hiss and echo of the carbonite chamber. 

Then you’d heard him go and check on the kid, then go to his quarters. 

And now, it was his booted feet on the steps to the cockpit that held your attention. 

You took a deep breath, prayed to the Maker and spun your seat to face him as he rose up. 

The mere sight of that beskar-clad body set your heart thumping, but you coaxed an easy smile on your lips anyway. “Hey, how was the hunt? Cause you any trouble?”

Mando didn’t turn his head to look at you, just padded over to his seat and spun it to the control panel, “It was fine. Easy.” His words were clipped, not harsh, just… efficient. Straight to the point. 

You swallowed, your courage faltering a little. 

Mentally, you scolded yourself. You didn’t falter in the face of a man who’d touched you and now wouldn’t talk to you. You didn’t whimper and pander to a tense atmosphere. 

You sat up a little straighter, pulling your shoulders back and you looked over at him. 

Now or never. 

“About the other night-”

“I’m taking you to Nevarro.”

What?

You had both spoken at the same time, your eyes now bewildered as you beheld him. “What?”

He said nothing, just fiddled with some controls. 

“Mando, what do you mean?” Your voice was shocked, but steady. Did nothing to betray the shock that had just hit your chest like a punch. 

You didn’t hear him swallow, only heard his words, “I’m taking you to Nevarro. We’re on the way now.” He said them softly, evenly. 

Hearing it again only made your heart drop to somewhere around your waist. 

He was leaving you. Dumping you on some planet. And going. 

Your hand tapped your leg as sort of nervous habit, and then the words were out, “Is this because of the other night?” 

It was his turn to sound bewildered, his head just turning to the side, but you knew he couldn’t see you in his peripheral, “What? What do you mean?” 

Your heart was starting to beat uncomfortably in your chest, a sense of shame beginning to creep over you, “Because of what happened in the kitchen. I didn’t see you, I didn’t see your skin.”

Mando turned to face you, one hand still on the panel, his hair half turned but head rotated all the way to look at you, “No, no it’s not because of that-“

You cut him off, “You didn’t… you didn’t offend me. Or hurt me. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry if.. if my reaction made you feel awkward or think something. I don’t.. I don’t expect anything from you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I never have, so please don’t think that.” You flushed, the shame colouring your cheeks. You couldn’t help it. But this was the reason, right? The only reason why he would be dumping you. 

He shook his head, “Stop. Stop..” His voice softened slightly, “No. It’s not because of… that. I know you didn’t see me. And I know you don’t expect anything from me.” He took a breath, “I’m taking you to Nevarro to keep you safe. That’s all. I have friends there, Cara Dune and Greef Karga. They’ll look after you. They’ve already set up accommodation for you, so you don’t need to worry about that. 

They already knew? 

Something like hurt flashed in your eyes, colouring your tone, “They… You already planned this..?” There was no bite in your voice like you would normally have in this situation, you were too shocked by the sudden change in direction your journey was taking. 

Mando tilted his head, “I contacted them whilst I was on the hunt… I wanted it set up before we got there, so you wouldn’t stand out to anyone looking.” He still looked at you, “Is that okay?”

You sensed you wouldn’t have a choice in this. So you decided to take the high road. You wouldn’t whine about this. 

You smoothed your expression over into a mask of calm, “Yes… I was just a little surprised that’s all. But thank you, really. I’ll… set about packing my things.”

He sounded confused, his head tilting back to watch you rise from your chair, “We have a couple of days yet.”

You nodded, “Oh, I know, I just want to make sure I have everything. And all the things I want to steal from you.” You laughed, even going so far as to nudge his shoulder before escaping. 

You were gone to quickly, so you wouldn’t have seen the way he slumped in his chair, dropped his head into his hands. You wouldn’t have heard the pained sigh that escaped his lips at the thought have having to part with you. 

~

~

~

The Mandalorian stood at the top of the ramp with you, staring out across the dusty, volcanic terrain of Nevarro. Your new home for… however long. 

You said nothing, running your fingers along the edge of your cloak, observing the landscape and trying not to let any emotion show on your face. You had kept up natural conversation the past few days. Saying nothing of the wrenching pain that tore in your chest every time you remembered you were departing. 

Mando cleared his throat, one arm holding Grogu and the other hand resting on his hip in a gesture that was becoming painfully familiar, “Cara and Greef know you’re coming. They’ll be waiting in Cara’s office for you.” 

Grogu was sulking, squirming every now and then to try and get out of Mando’s grip. He had screamed the whole morning, and only calmed down when you hugged him and sung to him on the way here. 

You nodded, also trying to ignore the thoughts swirling round in your mind as to why he was leaving you here. Was it because of your argument? The way you had broken down in front of him? Or was it because of the other night? The way his fingers had run through your hair, and then trailed down your spine, mapping your tattoo. His bare fingers. The things he’d whispered to you, “I just... I need to do this, please… I’m sorry, but I cant-”

“I’ve been thinking about this for days..”

Had he known then that he was going to leave you here? Or was it after that, that he’d decided he had broken one too many rules and had to get rid of you. 

Words floated over to you, and you realised he was talking again so you hauled your attention back to the conversation at hand. 

“-safe here. No one will come looking for you. Greef has taken all the pucks that have come through with your name on them and Cara will do sweeps every couple of days to make sure.”

You looked down at your feet, a bitter feeling leeching through your veins that was getting stronger with every moment you got closer to leaving the Crest. 

“Hey… look at me..” 

It was that honey softness of the Mandalorian’s tone that finally had you looking up at him, your expression perfectly masked to hide every ounce of emotion in you aside from a calm neutrality. 

He tilted his head a little, turning his body toward you, “Please don’t think I’m dumping you here. I had planned to bring you here since I destroyed the puck and the fob.”

Like that made you feel any better. 

He must have read the flicker in your eyes, because he stepped closer, his hand lifting to your upper arm, “I want you to be safe.” You could almost feel his eyes boring into yours, “I am more than grateful for everything you’ve done for me. And the kid. More than you’ll ever know. But, travelling with me.. it only increases the target on your back. People know you’re with me. I don’t want that for you.. you deserve to be free..”

And what about what I want?

You only smiled, forcing your expression to one of a lighter one and you nudged him gently, “Hey, I get it. You have to get rid of me because I’m showing you up on hunts. Can’t have anyone destroying your infamous reputation.” You rolled your eyes, laughing even if it did send daggers into your heart. 

And his. 

He squeezed your shoulder playfully, then dropped his hand. “You’re hilarious. I told you, the day you beat me is the day the stars implode.” You could feel a line of humour in his voice though, and it softened your shoulders, made you relax. 

He was doing this to keep you safe. He had planned this for weeks so you could have a break, a chance to rest. 

So, you lifted your head a little higher, your smile becoming more real. “Thank you, Mando. For everything. I can’t ever repay you for this, for what you’ve done.” You motioned to the outside. 

He nodded, his hand resting at his sides again now, “We’ll call it even.” His head remained focused on you, lingering on you and then he reached into a pouch and held out his free hand, “Here.”

You let him drop the objects in your hand, a small stack of credits. 

“It’s not much, I know, but it’ll be enough to get you some food and supplies you need. You don’t need to worry about a place to stay, Cara will show you but… You can get what you want and need.” He withdrew his hand slowly, almost reluctantly.  

You swallowed, closing your hand around the credits and you slipped them into the pocket inside your cloak. “Thank you..”

The Mandalorian merely nodded again, leaning back against the threshold of the ramp, his thumb absently rubbing circles on Grogu’s belly.  

It seemed that there was nothing else to draw this goodbye out, so you took a breath, straightening your cloak. “Well… I guess I’ll say goodbye then.” You looked up at him, then stuck out your hand for his, realising only a few seconds later how dumb that was. 

Before you could pull your hand back, he reached out and clasped your hand in his own, wrapping his fingers around your distinctly smaller hand. “Goodbye… princess.” You heard the smirk in his voice, and you couldn’t help the chuckle and the eye roll again, not failing to notice the way his hand tightened involuntarily and then withdrew. 

You looked at Grogu in his other arm, who was still avoiding looking at the pair of you, wriggling in his father’s arms. You bent down to draw your face to his level and you stroked his ears, “I’ll miss you, little guy. Make sure to keep your dad on his toes, okay? You gotta make up for both of us now.” You pressed a kiss to the top of his head, feeling his little hand pat your cheek with a mournful noise. Tears burned the back of your eyes, so you leant back, instead picking up Duru so she could say goodbye. 

Grogu cooed sadly again, stroking Duru’s cheek, looking up at her with his glossy eyes. 

You let Duru but her head against him, chitter a goodbye and then you stepped back, allowing her to climb up your shoulders as you looked up at Mando. 

You just watched him for a moment, his armour reflecting the light on one side and then, with a soft inhale of courage, you turned and walked down the ramp, Duru padding at your feet. 

You had only just cleared the ramp, stepping onto the hard, compacted ground when Mando called out, “Wait.”

You turned quickly, hope blooming in your heart, in your expression though you tried to stop it. 

He had made a step onto the ramp, body poised like it was trying to run to you but he was holding back. He hesitated, almost as if he were torn with what to say – or what not to say, but all that came out was, “Ret'urcye mhi.”

You couldn’t help the shiver that licked down your spine, the way his voice turned into dripping honey when he spoke Mando’a. “What does that mean..?” You prayed he couldn’t hear the slight hoarseness to your tone.

He tilted his head down to look at Grogu, then lifted it back up to you, “It means goodbye…. And maybe we’ll meet again..” 

Your heart swelled a little, a flush of pain going through it but you smiled softer, your expression melting and you inclined your head slightly, “I would like that.. very much…” 

There were a million other things that threatened to roll off your tongue, pour from you but before they could, you turned around, walking toward the town and feeling his eyes on you the entire time, burning into the back of your head like a fiery brand. 

You were about 4 metres away when you heard Grogu start crying, when your own tears broke through and spilled down your cheeks. You kept walking, even when your vision began to blur and go fuzzy.

So you didn’t see the way Mando hugged Grogu closer, whispered, “I know, kid, I don’t want her to go either.”

You’d be okay. It would be fine. 

So you and the Mandalorian were parting. It was no big deal. You had helped each other; you had returned each other’s debts. You owed each other nothing. 

The sound of engines whirring filtered into your ears, and you waited until you heard the Crest lift from the ground before turning round. 

You paused, wiping your cheeks as the ship that had become a haven of sorts lifted into the sky. It hovered for a second, as if hesitating and then shot up higher, taking with it the two people that you had come to mean more to you than you realised. It felt like the Razor Crest had taken your heart with it. 

How comes you hadn’t realised before how much they meant?

Too late now.

You remained watching the sky, long after the ship had vanished into the atmosphere. 

With a shuddering breath, you wiped your cheeks. You kissed Duru’s tail, and then returned to walking toward the town. 

You’d be okay… right?

Previous chapter| Next chapter

[butterflies-dragons]

SANSA STARK & TARGARYEN IMAGERY

A list of Targaryen Imagery around Sansa Stark in A Song of Ice and Fire

Fire and Blood

Black and Red

Silver and Purple

Dragon's Tail

Dragon Wings

Dragon Eggs

Dragon Skulls

Golden Dragons

Dragon Knights

Valyrian Steel

Dance of the Dragons

Maegor the Cruel

Baelor the Blessed

Aegon the Unworthy

Prince Aemon the Dragonknight

Aerys the Mad King

Rhaegar the ast dragon

Bonus: Fiery Hair

1. FIRE AND BLOOD

Sansa slid off her mare, but she was too slow. Arya swung with both hands. There was a loud crack as the wood split against the back of the prince's head, and then everything happened at once before Sansa's horrified eyes. Joffrey staggered and whirled around, roaring curses. Mycah ran for the trees as fast as his legs would take him. Arya swung at the prince again, but this time Joffrey caught the blow on Lion's Tooth and sent her broken stick flying from her hands. The back of his head was all bloody and his eyes were on fire.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa I

The point of Ser Gregor's lance had snapped off in his neck, and his life's blood flowed out in slow pulses, each weaker than the one before. His armor was shiny new; a bright streak of fire ran down his outstretched arm, as the steel caught the light. Then the sun went behind a cloud, and it was gone. His cloak was blue, the color of the sky on a clear summer's day, trimmed with a border of crescent moons, but as his blood seeped into it, the cloth darkened and the moons turned red, one by one.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa II

The blood orange had left a blotchy red stain on the silk. "I hate her!" she screamed. She balled up the dress and flung it into the cold hearth, on top of the ashes of last night's fire. When she saw that the stain had bled through onto her underskirt, she began to sob despite herself. She ripped off the rest of her clothes wildly, threw herself into bed, and cried herself back to sleep.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa III

When the king's herald moved forward, Sansa realized the moment was almost at hand. She smoothed down the cloth of her skirt nervously. She was dressed in mourning, as a sign of respect for the dead king, but she had taken special care to make herself beautiful. Her gown was the ivory silk that the queen had given her, the one Arya had ruined, but she'd had them dye it black and you couldn't see the stain at all. She had fretted over her jewelry for hours and finally decided upon the elegant simplicity of a plain silver chain.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa V

Then she realized that the blood had soaked through the sheet into the featherbed, so she bundled that up as well, but it was big and cumbersome, hard to move. Sansa could get only half of it into the fire. She was on her knees, struggling to shove the mattress into the flames as thick grey smoke eddied around her and filled the room, when the door burst open and she heard her maid gasp.

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa IV

When she crawled out of bed, long moments later, she was alone. She found his cloak on the floor, twisted up tight, the white wool stained by blood and fire.

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa VII

"The dwarf's wife did the murder with him," swore an archer in Lord Rowan's livery. "Afterward, she vanished from the hall in a puff of brimstone, and a ghostly direwolf was seen prowling the Red Keep, blood dripping from his jaws."

—A Storm of Swords - Jaime VII

As the boy's lips touched her own she found herself thinking of another kiss. She could still remember how it felt, when his cruel mouth pressed down on her own. He had come to Sansa in the darkness as green fire filled the sky. He took a song and a kiss, and left me nothing but a bloody cloak.

—A Feast for Crows - Alayne II

2. BLACK AND RED

The queen wore a high-collared black silk gown, with a hundred dark red rubies sewn into her bodice, covering her from neck to bosom. They were cut in the shape of teardrops, as if the queen were weeping blood.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa IV

Tyrion wore a doublet of black velvet covered with golden scrollwork, thigh-high boots that added three inches to his height, a chain of rubies and lions’ heads. But the gash across his face was raw and red, and his nose was a hideous scab. “You are very beautiful, Sansa,” he told her.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa III

3. SILVER AND PURPLE

Sansa closed the shutters and turned sharply away from the window. "You look very lovely today, my lady," Ser Arys said.

"Thank you, ser." Knowing that Joffrey would require her to attend the tourney in his honor, Sansa had taken special care with her face and clothes. She wore a gown of pale purple silk and a moonstone hair net that had been a gift from Joffrey. The gown had long sleeves to hide the bruises on her arms. Those were Joffrey's gifts as well. When they told him that Robb had been proclaimed King in the North, his rage had been a fearsome thing, and he had sent Ser Boros to beat her.

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa I

"You've waited so long, be patient awhile longer. Here, I have something for you." Ser Dontos fumbled in his pouch and drew out a silvery spiderweb, dangling it between his thick fingers.

It was a hair net of fine-spun silver, the strands so thin and delicate the net seemed to weigh no more than a breath of air when Sansa took it in her fingers. Small gems were set wherever two strands crossed, so dark they drank the moonlight. "What stones are these?"

"Black amethysts from Asshai. The rarest kind, a deep true purple by daylight."

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa VIII

Sansa wore a gown of silvery satin trimmed in vair, with dagged sleeves that almost touched the floor, lined in soft purple felt. Shae had arranged her hair artfully in a delicate silver net winking with dark purple gemstones. Tyrion had never seen her look more lovely, yet she wore sorrow on those long satin sleeves. "Lady Sansa," he told her, "you shall be the most beautiful woman in the hall tonight."

—A Storm of Swords - Tyrion VIII

4. DRAGON WINGS

Tyrion scarce touched his food, Sansa noticed, though he drank several cups of the wine. For herself, she tried a little of the Dornish eggs, but the peppers burned her mouth. Otherwise she only nibbled at the fruit and fish and honeycakes. Every time Joffrey looked at her, her tummy got so fluttery that she felt as though she'd swallowed a bat.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa IV

"What wife?"

"I forgot, you've been hiding under a rock. The northern girl. Winterfell's daughter. We heard she killed the king with a spell, and afterward changed into a wolf with big leather wings like a bat, and flew out a tower window. But she left the dwarf behind and Cersei means to have his head."

—A Storm of Swords - Arya XIII

5. DRAGON EGGS

Butterbumps arrived before the food, dressed in a jester’s suit of green and yellow feathers with a floppy coxcomb. An immense round fat man, as big as three Moon Boys, he came cartwheeling into the hall, vaulted onto the table, and laid a gigantic egg right in front of Sansa. “Break it, my lady,” he commanded. When she did, a dozen yellow chicks escaped and began running in all directions. “Catch them!” Butterbumps exclaimed. Little Lady Bulwer snagged one and handed it to him, whereby he tilted back his head, popped it into his huge rubbery mouth, and seemed to swallow it whole. When he belched, tiny yellow feathers flew out his nose. Lady Bulwer began to wail in distress, but her tears turned into a sudden squeal of delight when the chick came squirming out of the sleeve of her gown and ran down her arm.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa I

In the Queen's Ballroom they broke their fast on honeycakes baked with blackberries and nuts, gammon steaks, bacon, fingerfish crisped in breadcrumbs, autumn pears, and a Dornish dish of onions, cheese, and chopped eggs cooked up with fiery peppers.

[…] Tyrion scarce touched his food, Sansa noticed, though he drank several cups of the wine. For herself, she tried a little of the Dornish eggs, but the peppers burned her mouth.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa IV

6. DRAGON’S TAIL

The morning of King Joffrey's name day dawned bright and windy, with the long tail of the great comet visible through the high scuttling clouds. Sansa was watching it from her tower window when Ser Arys Oakheart arrived to escort her down to the tourney grounds. "What do you think it means?" she asked him.

"Glory to your betrothed," Ser Arys answered at once. "See how it flames across the sky today on His Grace's name day, as if the gods themselves had raised a banner in his honor. The smallfolk have named it King Joffrey's Comet."

Doubtless that was what they told Joffrey; Sansa was not so sure. "I've heard servants calling it the Dragon's Tail."

"King Joffrey sits where Aegon the Dragon once sat, in the castle built by his son," Ser Arys said. "He is the dragon's heir—and crimson is the color of House Lannister, another sign. This comet is sent to herald Joffrey's ascent to the throne, I have no doubt. It means that he will triumph over his enemies."

Is it true? she wondered. Would the gods be so cruel? Her mother was one of Joffrey's enemies now, her brother Robb another. Her father had died by the king's command. Must Robb and her lady mother die next? The comet was red, but Joffrey was Baratheon as much as Lannister, and their sigil was a black stag on a golden field. Shouldn't the gods have sent Joff a golden comet?

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa I

7. DRAGON SKULLS

Within, the dragon skulls were waiting, and so was Shae. “I thought m’lord had forgotten me.” Her dress was draped over a black tooth near as tall as she was, and she stood within the dragon’s jaws, nude. Balerion, he thought. Or was it Vhagar? One dragon skull looked much like another.

[...] After, as they lay entwined amongst the dragon skulls, he rested his head against her, inhaling the smooth clean smell of her hair. “We should go back,” he said reluctantly. “It must be near dawn. Sansa will be waking.

[...] The Others can take my guilt, he thought as he slipped his tunic over his head. Why should I be guilty? My wife wants no part of me, and most especially not the part that seems to want her. Perhaps he ought to tell her about Shae. It was not as though he was the first man ever to keep a concubine. Sansa’s own oh-so-honorable father had given her a bastard brother. For all he knew, his wife might be thrilled to learn that he was fucking Shae, so long as it spared her his unwelcome touch.

—A Storm of Swords - Tyrion VII

8. GOLDEN DRAGONS

"The queen raised her voice. "A hundred golden dragons to the man who brings me its skin!”

“A costly pelt,” Robert grumbled. “I want no part of this, woman. You can damn well buy your furs with Lannister gold.”

[...] Shortly, Jory brought him Ice.

When it was over, he said, “Choose four men and have them take the body north. Bury her at Winterfell.”

“All that way?” Jory said, astonished.

“All that way,” Ned affirmed. “The Lannister woman shall never have this skin.”

—A Game of Thrones - Eddard III

"Petyr Baelish put a hand on the rail. "But first you’ll want your payment. Ten thousand dragons, was it?”

“Ten thousand.” Dontos rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand. “As you promised, my lord.”

[...] “But he saved me.”

“He sold you for a promise of ten thousand dragons.

[...]“Sansa felt sick. "He said he was my Florian.”

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa V

“Your sister’s had no difficulty finding witnesses to your guilt.” Ser Kevan rolled up the parchment. “Ser Addam has men hunting for your wife. Varys has offered a hundred stags for word of her whereabouts, and a hundred dragons for the girl herself. If the girl can be found she will be found, and I shall bring her to you. I see no harm in husband and wife sharing the same cell and giving comfort to one another.”

—A Storm of Swords - Tyrion IX

Someplace no stag ever found … though a dragon might.

—A Feast for Crows - Brienne III

"A good melee is all a hedge knight can hope for, unless he stumbles on a bag of dragons. And that's not likely, is it?"

—The Winds of Winter - Alayne I

9. DRAGON KNIGHTS

She shouted for Ser Dontos, for her brothers, for her dead father and her dead wolf, for gallant Ser Loras who had given her a red rose once, but none of them came. She called for the heroes from the songs, for Florian and Ser Ryam Redwyne and Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, but no one heard.

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa IV

"True knights would never harm women and children." The words rang hollow in her ears even as she said them.

"True knights." The queen seemed to find that wonderfully amusing. "No doubt you're right. So why don't you just eat your broth like a good girl and wait for Symeon Star-Eyes and Prince Aemon the Dragonknight to come rescue you, sweetling. I'm sure it won't be very long now."

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa V

They continued down the serpentine and across a small sunken courtyard. Ser Dontos shoved open a heavy door and lit a taper. They were inside a long gallery. Along the walls stood empty suits of armor, dark and dusty, their helms crested with rows of scales that continued down their backs. As they hurried past, the taper's light made the shadows of each scale stretch and twist. The hollow knights are turning into dragons, she thought.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa V

10. VALYRIAN STEEL

Lord Tywin waited until last to present the king with his own gift: a longsword. Its scabbard was made of cherrywood, gold, and oiled red leather, studded with golden lions' heads. The lions had ruby eyes, she saw. The ballroom fell silent as Joffrey unsheathed the blade and thrust the sword above his head. Red and black ripples in the steel shimmered in the morning light.

[…] "A great sword must have a great name, my lords! What shall I call it?"

[…] The guests were shouting out names for the new blade. Joff dismissed a dozen before he heard one he liked. "Widow's Wail!" he cried.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa IV

But she had another longsword hidden in her bedroll. She sat on the bed and took it out. Gold glimmered yellow in the candlelight and rubies smoldered red. When she slid Oathkeeper from the ornate scabbard, Brienne's breath caught in her throat. Black and red the ripples ran, deep within the steel. Valyrian steel, spell-forged. It was a sword fit for a hero. When she was small, her nurse had filled her ears with tales of valor, regaling her with the noble exploits of Ser Galladon of Morne, Florian the Fool, Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, and other champions. Each man bore a famous sword, and surely Oathkeeper belonged in their company, even if she herself did not. "You'll be defending Ned Stark's daughter with Ned Stark's own steel," Jaime had promised.

—A Feast for Crows - Brienne I

11. DANCE OF THE DRAGONS

Later, while Sansa was off listening to a troupe of singers perform the complex round of interwoven ballads called the "Dance of the Dragons," Ned inspected the bruise himself. "I hope Forel is not being too hard on you," he said.

—A Game of Thrones - Eddard VII

He sang of the Dance of the Dragons, of fair Jonquil and her fool, of Jenny of Oldstones and the Prince of Dragonflies. He sang of betrayals, and murders most foul, of hanged men and bloody vengeance. He sang of grief and sadness.

—A Feast for Crows - Sansa I

12. MAEGOR THE CRUEL

The room where Sansa had been confined was at the top of the highest tower of Maegor's Holdfast.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa IV

In the tower room at the heart of Maegor's Holdfast, Sansa gave herself to the darkness.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa VI

13. BAELOR THE BLESSED

"Baelor starved himself to death, fasting," said Tyrion. "His uncle served him loyally as Hand, as he had served the Young Dragon before him. Viserys might only have reigned a year, but he ruled for fifteen, while Daeron warred and Baelor prayed." He made a sour face. "And if he did remove his nephew, can you blame him? Someone had to save the realm from Baelor's follies."

Sansa was shocked. "But Baelor the Blessed was a great king. He walked the Boneway barefoot to make peace with Dorne, and rescued the Dragonknight from a snakepit. The vipers refused to strike him because he was so pure and holy."

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa IV

14. AEGON THE UNWORTHY

Aegon the Unworthy had never harmed Queen Naerys, perhaps for fear of their brother the Dragonknight . . . but when another of his Kingsguard fell in love with one of his mistresses, the king had taken both their heads.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa II

"A king can have other women. Whores. My father did. One of the Aegons did too. The third one, or the fourth. He had lots of whores and lots of bastards." As they whirled to the music, Joff gave her a moist kiss. "My uncle will bring you to my bed whenever I command it."

Sansa shook her head. "He won't."

"He will, or I'll have his head. That King Aegon, he had any woman he wanted, whether they were married or no."

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa III

15. PRINCE AEMON THE DRAGONKNIGHT

He took her by the arm and led her away from the wheelhouse, and Sansa's spirits took flight. A whole day with her prince! She gazed at Joffrey worshipfully. He was so gallant, she thought. The way he had rescued her from Ser Ilyn and the Hound, why, it was almost like the songs, like the time Serwyn of the Mirror Shield saved the Princess Daeryssa from the giants, or Prince Aemon the Dragonknight championing Queen Naerys's honor against evil Ser Morgil's slanders.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa I

"Father, I only just now remembered, I can't go away, I'm to marry Prince Joffrey." She tried to smile bravely for him. "I love him, Father, I truly truly do, I love him as much as Queen Naerys loved Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, as much as Jonquil loved Ser Florian. I want to be his queen and have his babies."

"Sweet one," her father said gently, "listen to me. When you're old enough, I will make you a match with a high lord who's worthy of you, someone brave and gentle and strong. This match with Joffrey was a terrible mistake. That boy is no Prince Aemon, you must believe me."

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa III

She pulled a chair close to the hearth, took down one of her favorite books, and lost herself in the stories of Florian and Jonquil, of Lady Shella and the Rainbow Knight, of valiant Prince Aemon and his doomed love for his brother's queen.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa IV

For those who remained, a singer was brought forth to fill the hall with the sweet music of the high harp. He sang of Jonquil and Florian, of Prince Aemon the Dragonknight and his love for his brother's queen, of Nymeria's ten thousand ships. They were beautiful songs, but terribly sad. Several of the women began to weep, and Sansa felt her own eyes growing moist.

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa VI

16. AERYS THE MAD KING

"Ser Ilyn has not been feeling talkative these past fourteen years," Lord Renly commented with a sly smile.

Joffrey gave his uncle a look of pure loathing, then took Sansa's hands in his own. "Aerys Targaryen had his tongue ripped out with hot pincers."

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa I

"The battleground is right up ahead, where the river bends. That was where my father killed Rhaegar Targaryen, you know. He smashed in his chest, crunch, right through the armor." Joffrey swung an imaginary warhammer to show her how it was done. "Then my uncle Jaime killed old Aerys, and my father was king."

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa I

"You can't talk to me that way. The king can do as he likes."

"Aerys Targaryen did as he liked. Has your mother ever told you what happened to him?"

Ser Boros Blount harrumphed. "No man threatens His Grace in the presence of the Kingsguard."

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa III

17. RHAEGAR THE LAST DRAGON

"The battleground is right up ahead, where the river bends. That was where my father killed Rhaegar Targaryen, you know. He smashed in his chest, crunch, right through the armor." Joffrey swung an imaginary warhammer to show her how it was done.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa I

"My father told everyone my bedding had caught fire, and our maester gave me ointments. Ointments! Gregor got his ointments too. Four years later, they anointed him with the seven oils and he recited his knightly vows and Rhaegar Targaryen tapped him on the shoulder and said, 'Arise, Ser Gregor.'"

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa II

18. BONUS: FIERY HAIR

Robb and Sansa and Bran and even little Rickon all took after the Tullys, with easy smiles and fire in their hair.

—A Game of Thrones - Arya I

"You will be the most beautiful woman in the hall tonight, as lovely as your lady mother at your age. I cannot seat you on the dais, but you'll have a place of honor above the salt and underneath a wall sconce. The fire will be shining in your hair, so everyone will see how fair of face you are. Keep a good long spoon on hand to beat the squires off, sweetling. You will not want green boys underfoot when the knights come round to beg you for your favor."

—The Winds of Winter - Alayne I

[internalsealpanic]

Bloody Valentine

Summary: There is nothing more romantic than being stuck in an elevator and arguing about terrible life decisions. 

a/n: Blame @littleredwing89 for the existence of this.  This is, as of the time I’m posting this, the 4th part (chronologically) to my Dick Grayson/Merc!Reader series. It might be better for you to read part 1 or part 2 before reading this as the angst might hit harder if you do. 

Warnings:  Mentions of blood and injury. Dick and Reader are both hypocrites with no self preservation. It also gets a little heated(?) in the end but nothing really bad.

Main Masterlist

Dick Grayson Masterlist

Direct Sequel to this: Sweetness 

This was not how you pictured your Valentine’s Day. 

Sure, you weren’t exactly picturing a candle-lit dinner under the stars or slow dancing in the pale moonlight like a Hallmark movie. But you’re not exactly thrilled to be standing outside an emergency room waiting area, clutching an unopened pack of cigarettes and a spare superman shirt, as per the police chief’s suggestion. You tap your foot impatiently as an officer persuades the hospital staff to let you in as you stupidly forgot to bring any of your IDs. The pack of cigarettes crinkles loudly earning you a withering look from a tired-looking mother. 

You take a breath. 

You settle yourself in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs they point you to. There’s a scream in your throat. And you’re so close to crying. From frustration, anxiety, fatigue? You couldn’t distinguish. 

You flick your eyes to them. Finally, the staff relents and you brush past them brusquely.   

Your thoughts spiral. The bile lingers at the back of your throat. Burning. Acidic. Dick had lost a lot of blood but not fatal, they told you. The sob that left your mouth was inhumane. You’d almost dropped the phone. Static and white noise vibrated through your eardrums. In a trance-like state, you walk towards the room they kept him in, tunnel vision guiding you to his door. That’s what shock does to you. 

All you can think of is him.

You hold the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip, glaring at Dick through the rearview mirror, more specifically the white hospital issued sling cradling his arm. You watch Dick as he pretends to not notice the look you’re needling him with.  “I spy with my little eye something… green,” he says absentmindedly as he stares out into the flow of traffic. 

You keep your narrowed eyes straight ahead, not even thinking about dignifying his little distraction. Right now, all you were seeing was red. 

To your right, Dick sighs dramatically, running his hand through his black hair. “So you’re just going to ignore me, huh?”

You’re not but you sure are trying. 

Dick as far as you knew was used to silence but he thrived in noise. He lived off of interactions, good or bad. You’re usually an endless supply of banter and playful quips but right now you needed the silence. You needed him to stew in it along with you. This isn’t to say you were particularly ill-tempered or impatient with people, being friends with someone like Dick necessitated a certain level of patience in your opinion.  And sure, you had a sharp tongue but you didn’t lose your temper often. But as you sit there next to him with your teeth grinding, fingers tapping, and muscles clenched, you could feel anger coiling under your skin. 

He lets out another sigh, this time sounding genuinely exasperated. Good. “(y/n), I don’t know why you’re upset by this- I’m a cop. We both know the risks.” 

The coil under your skin burns and you break hard, pointedly ignoring the loud cursing from the driver behind you. Dick chokes and hisses as the seatbelt digs into his chest. You offer him no sympathy or apology as you shoot him such a glare that whatever smartass remark he has for you dies on the tip of his tongue. Considering all the villains and heroes he’s had glaring at him over the years, you consider this an accomplishment. Dick flinches at the intensity of the anger wicking off of you. 

You click your teeth and turn back to the road, seeing the light turn green again. “You were issued a gun for a reason,” you say flatly, opting for this instead of the litany of other ways to say ‘you’re a moron’. You’re polite like that. 

It’s Dick’s turn to level you a look but unlike him, you don’t flinch, too caught up in your own anger. “Well, I assessed the situation-”

“You were wrong.”

“- and thought I could deescalate,” he says scowling at you through the mirror. Hurt flashes behind his eyes.  He looks… like a mix between petulant and offended but you can’t bring yourself to care to do more than give him a withering look, especially not when you still have his bloodied uniform burned into your mind. You admired his determination to keep the peace the way you admired how uncompromising his stance was on second chances. You really did but… It was the second time he nearly died that week and it was just Tuesday. 

You stop again. You close your eyes. Loving someone who could someday not come home to you was not a possibility you had prepared for.  You just- You just weren’t ready to care for someone so… destructible.  You weren’t sure how to process all the anxiety that came with that, so you turned to anger. It just seemed so much more productive and tangible than the shapeless fear anxiety brought you. “And you nearly got shot in the heart,” you deadpan, heart twinging. You taper your emotions down into something more manageable, something easier to compartmentalize. You can tell Dick was going through the same process. Which one of you was having a harder time, you couldn’t tell. 

“He barely grazed me.”

“Correction, you have a hole in your shoulder.” Asshole.  You bite back the insult, trying not to escalate the argument. You click your teeth but try not to clench your jaw or grind your teeth. The first person to lose their temper loses the argument. 

Dick huffs, resting his chin against his uninjured hand. His eyes flicker to you then the window. “I’ve had worse,” he mutters and your stomach tumbles to the ground getting crushed by the tire. Your mind careens. Your lungs fill up with the smell of ash and gun smoke. For a moment, your eyes do not work. For a moment, you’re in a crumbling building. Your eyes watching the billowing smoke curl against the sky. A blast of heat so hot it makes the liquid in your eyes boil breezes past you. 

You feel the flick of Yasiri’s tail on your skin and suddenly your foot is on a gas pedal instead of a broken cement floor. You blink, a tar-like emotion is swimming under your skin. You breathe. You glare at the traffic in front of you if only to focus your vision. “You’re impossible,” you snarl. 

In the corner of your eye, Dick peels away from the window, anger flashing in his easy-going features. He’s brandishing a sneer. You brace yourself. Dick… Dick Grayson was a mean son of a bitch when he wanted to be and he knew too much of your hurts. You swallow, gripping the steering wheel. Yasiri swims on your skin, surfacing just enough to get ready to strike but also just enough to be hidden. 

Dick opens his mouth but no sound comes out. Dick closes his mouth then opens it again and instead of something truly scathing, Dic opts for something more teasing probably realizing that pissing off your driver is a really bad idea. “You say that like you’re any easier to talk to.”

“At least, I know how to listen,” you bite out, voice drawing dangerously low. Dick’s eyes flicker to you, his shoulders bunching up a fraction. You click your teeth and take a calming breath. 

Dick snorts, the knot in his shoulders disappearing. “Yeah, right.”

You bristle. Your fingers drum against the steering wheel contemplating on whether to deck him. You should deck him. You should definitely deck him. Would that open up his stitches? It probably would. You mutter a curse. It feels nice rolling off your tongue and it seems Dick feels the same when he curses in Romani. You catalog the word for later use. Dick turns away from you, glaring out the window. You can see the way his eyes narrow through the reflection in the window. The look in his eyes is a complicated mix of irritation and hurt and regret.  

You silently agree to table the discussion, at least, until you got off the road. 

You brush past the elevator door, tossing your bag to the corner and leaning against the cool wall of the elevator. Dick enters and leans on the opposite wall, gingerly rubbing his shoulder. Neither of you look at each other. You watch the buttons light up as the elevator climbs up. Your skin is still buzzing from emotions. You thought the quiet drive would right them but… it didn’t.

To your side, you hear the restless tapping of feet. You glance over to Dick whose body is vibrating and itching from movement. Seems you weren’t the only one jittery. You smother a snort in your hand. It was cruel but you find the fact that he’ll be so bored while recovering is slightly funny. 

The elevator shakes. You’re thrown off balance. There’s a metallic clunking above you. You both lookup. Dick strains his ears to listen. You quiet your breathing so as not to distract him. He sighs and curses, the side of his fist pounding against the wall. “It’s just broken.” You look at him, eyes wide and dumbfounded. 

“Are you fucking with me?”

He shakes his head. “I wish,” he scoffs. You scrunch your nose and Dick sneers. “We’re just gonna have to wait, I guess.”  And you press yourself against your wall. “Wonderful.” 

You both stew in silence. “I can’t believe I’m stuck...” you mutter under your breath as you try to pry the elevator doors open. Dick rolls his eyes at you. “You can’t open those doors, (y/n),” he ruffles his hair in frustration, “we just need to wait for the fire department, dumbass.”He says, his head lulling back against the wall. 

 You hiss, your fingers sore and red. “Has anyone ever told you that you were an ass?” You snarl making Dick scowl at you. 

“You’ve said so like 5 times in the emergency room and 2 times in- Do you really wanna start this again?!”

You punch the door, creating a deep divet. “You’re goddamn right I wanna start this again because, Richard, for once in your goddamned life I wish you would stop being such a self-centered dickweed!” You seethe. Your knuckles hurt. They feel cool. They’re probably bleeding. 

Dick shoots up from the corner. “How am I self-centered?”

“Risking your life like a fucking moron like that?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was trying to save those people.”

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” you throw your arms up in exasperation, “do you know just how bad you are at keeping yourself alive because of that fucking hero complex, huh? You dumb. piece. of. Shit.”  You take a deep breath and continue your tirade. “You think you’re invincible just cus you run around in tights all night?”

Dick smirks at you. “You never had a problem with my tights when-”

“Check your ego, Grayson. I’ve dealt with a lot of spandex-clad pretty boys before, you’re nothing special.” You want the words to sting. 

“Oh please, you dealt with them by putting them in body bags!”

“Yeah! Fuck you! You’ll end up in one the rate you’re going.” Dick is speechless for a moment. Something in Dick’s eyes flares. You flinch and open your mouth to say something but Dick roars, the sound loud in the confined space. “What? Are you gonna tell me to stop being a hero? Are you gonna tell me that I’m not good enough to be Nightwing like how Bruce told me I couldn’t be Robin? Hah?”

Your heart drops and your chest burns. Your hackles draw up as high as they can. You bare your teeth. “No, you fucking moron That’s not the point!”

“What is it then, (y/n)? What do you want from me?!”

“You always go on this damn crusade to save everyone and everything and you don’t bother to take care of yourself or how it would affect others!”

“Wha-”

“No! You don’t- You don’t ever think!”You shove him against the wall, jabbing your finger into his chest. 

Dick glares down at you, grabbing your wrist in an almost painful grip. His finger jabs against your collar bone as he gets in your face, his hot breath fanning against your skin. “Fuck you! You’re just as bad as I am! You always throw yourself in front of others at the first sound of gunfire.”

“Dipshit, I have accelerated healing!” you say, ripping your hand out of his grip. 

“THAT DOESN’T MEAN YOU’RE INVINCIBLE.”

“Neither are you!” You sob, it comes out wet and raw. You close your eyes. You can still see the blood on his uniform. You sink to the floor, clutching at his shirt. Your tears sting even as they fall to the floor. “Neither are you.”

“(y/n)...” Dick’s shoulders droop as he watches you proud form crumple, entire body shaking.  He lowers himself to the ground slowly, careful not to agitate you. 

You press forward and bury your face into his shoulder, fist lightly punching his chest. You don’t want him to see you cry.  “Dick… I’m not saying you should quit… that- that’s just who you are.” You hiccup, tears flowing.“I just- I don’t want to bury you. I don’t- I can’t lose you, you fucking moron… You can’t just worm your way into someone’s heart and- and- ”

“(Y/n)...” Dick pulls you into his lap and lays his chin on your head. He hadn’t really thought… He should have known. He should have guessed. 

You pull away and look him in the eye, eyes bloodshot from crying. “You can’t just expect me to be ok with the possibility you won’t come back to me,” you say lowly, punching his chest.   The next few words come out in a shy whisper, low enough that Dick has to strain his ears to hear you. “Dick… I love you. I want to grow old with you, you waste of oxygen.” You cry into Dick’s shoulder not able to face him.  Dick shakes his head. He puts his hand on the back of your neck and presses a kiss to your hair. Dick doesn’t know how many times he has to tell you he doesn’t think less of you for crying on his shoulder but he’ll tell you no matter how many times you need to hear it.  

You sit in silence with only your muffled sobs and Dick’s comforting words filling the dead air. 

 “Timmy is gonna kill you for making me cry,” you sniffle, facing him with a wet tear-stained smile. 

Dick gives you a crooked smile in return.“ I still have no idea how you managed to turn my siblings against me,” Dick says, planting another kiss on your face but this time on your eyelid just below your brow. 

“You say that like it’s hard.” 

Dick pouts at you and you cackle loud and high, somehow still managing to sound musical. “I am a lovable big brother-”

“-And I’m a fucking nun-” Dick pinches your ass through your skirt. “We'll  have nun of that,”

You grab Dick’s wrist in a tight grip, managing to narrow your eyes at him. “I am not dropping this conversation just  to get fucked in an elevator.”

His eyes shine cheekily at the idea.“Wasn't my plan... but that works.”

“Dick…”

Dick leans down, his nose grazing your pulse, brushing like petals against your skin. “Let me make it up to you,” Dick says, licking a stripe up the column of your neck. Ignoring the swell of his pants against your inner thigh, you pinch his cheek, tugging him away from your neck. Your stomach roils at the loss of his lips on your skin but you suppress a whine to glare at him.

Dick looks up at you, mischief lighting his eyes. He pulls away from your hand. His lips find their way back to your neck then back up your jaw. His lips press kisses along your jawline. “It’ll-”kiss”-be-” kiss “-sooo worth it.”

Your breath hitches.“Dick...” you whine, feeling your skin heat. Your mind is buzzing. He smiles against you. His fingers toy with the strap of your bra, tugging it down slowly, carefully, making sure you feel every bit of his movement. “I hear my name-” he kisses your shoulder “-but you’re not stopping me.”

You roll your hips, panting for him. Dick’s tongue is hot against your skin. “C’mon, sweetheart, you know I can make you scream my name with just one hand,” Dick whispers against the shell of your ear. His hand slides down your arm down to your hip, his hand guiding your ass towards his growing bulge. “C’mon, Sweetheart, think about it-” Lick ”-the words I could make you sing.”

“Dick...” you pant, arching your back, pressing your body against his, giving him more access to your neck. Dick nips at your flesh happily. “Honey, I’m going to-”   

You yelp, your skin flying off your bones when you hear the elevator doors open. Dick, unphased, continues kissing you and licking up your skin. 

“Heeey guys, it’s Grayson,” the fireman calls out to the other men behind him. He turns back to the two of you with a cheeky grin.“Dickie, if I’d known it was you..” He glances towards you, eyes catching on the red hickeys blooming on your shoulder. You want to evaporate. “You guys need a minute?” Dick grins against your skin, looking up at you through thick lashes. “Thanks, Jerry, but we might need more than that.”

You glare down at Dick who simply smiles at you as he nips at your flesh.  “What? Feeling shy?” Dick breathes against your neck and all of a sudden, all of the anger and irritation comes creeping back. You shove Dick lightly, standing up and fixing your shirt. “I think he has a concussion. I suggest you check him out,” you snarl, brushing past Jerry leaving Dick on the floor, horny and stunned. 

“I’m totally fine!” Dick says, scrambling to his feet and grabbing your bag. 

You glare over your shoulder. “Our argument isn’t over.”

“What? But- I thought- We were about to-” Your scowl deepens as you see Dick flounder.  Jerry cackles as he gives Dick’s back an unsympathetic pat. 

“Sorry about that, Grayson. I guess you were destined to get blue balled,” Jerry laughs shaking his head. Dick sighs deeply, his shoulders drooping. “Are you really sorry?” Dick asks, side-eyeing Jerry. Jerry grins. “Nah, but it’s the thought that counts,” Jerry says, looking all too pleased with himself. 

Dick bumps past Jerry gently with a slightly petulant look on his face which earns him a chuckle from Jerry and a glare from you. “Watch the shoulder,” you crow from the hall. 

Jerry shakes his head. “No, hero’s welcome, huh?” Dick rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, she’s not exactly happy about the hole in my shoulder,” Dick admits, sheepishly. Jerry shoves Dick forward lightly and the other firemen do the same. “Go get ‘er, Tiger!”

Dick falls into step behind you, his lips brushing the back of your neck. His arm wraps around you as he pulls you close. He places a kiss behind your ear. You gasp and you hear hoots behind you. “Dick… Don’t… You can’t solve this with an orgasm,” you sigh, feeling your resolve crumble as his soft lips brushed the weak point of your neck. “Honey… please.” Dick holds you against his chest. The beating of his heart thaws you. “Honey, I’m sorry...” His breath runs down the side of your neck and it feels like feathers caressing your skin. You take a breath. He just knew how to make you melt. 

“... I love you too.”

Tag list: @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes,  @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell   @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red

[docheros]

Can I get a “i trust you. it’s okay.” with Antimagic please? Hurt and comfort specifically.

here, thanks for the ask <3 i tried my best, also the hurt/comfort here is more emotional, sorry for no torture or physical pain lol

also !! it’s not like jackie abuses marvin or marvin likes jackie or anything, they just don’t work out sometimes. jackie’s too hot headed and marvin is oversensitive, and they just so happened to have a fight before jackie left for his date. but it’s ok, he’ll apologize later :-)

=============================

Anti felt something was wrong, the atmosphere was... dense. Maybe because Marvin wasn’t noticing their magic almost melting the objects around them.

Jackie could at least had given some instructions on how to take care of a cat-like powerful entity...

— Uh, hey, Marvin? Are you there dude?

He felt his body shake, maybe that was its way of sighing.

— Could you, uuh... Reverse whatever you’re doing? It’s melting the controller.

Suddenly, everything came back to normal. He sighed in relief, but the ambient still felt sad.

— Marvin, is everything ok? Do you want to vent about something?

A few minutes passed, and they materialized beside Anti. Their face didn’t have a mouth or nose, but only the green eyes already told so much. Tired, sad cartoonish eyes.

— ...Are you fine? — it shook his head in a no — do you... want to talk about it?

— You humans annoy me sometimes — he gave them a weak smile, he wasn’t human, you know... — I’ve been around here before most of your ancestrals were born and still, Jackie get me on my nerves sometimes.

Anti agreed, but in a confusion way. Sure the hero was hot headed and stubborn, but he couldn’t remember a time he gave any of them a hard time. Still, he didn’t live with Jackie everyday like Marvin.

— He could be a little more grateful, you know — it hugged its tail, as if they were chests crossed on its chest — I do everything for him, everything! Yet, he still...

They hid their head between their arms, sobbing. That sure was weird.

— Are you talking about his date with...

— It’s more complicated.

Silence. Anti just sighed and let the entity cry, JJ always said it’s better for the heart. Well, he didn’t know if Marvin had a heart, or something similar to it, but...

Oh, wait. What the hell?

— Marvin?

It lay its head on his lap, still a bit emotional.

— Do you not like it?

— No, no, I’m fine, I’m just worried with you...

— It’s fine. I do this with Jackie.

Anti frowned. He wasn’t exactly Jackie. In fact, he looked nothing like him. Why that all of sudden? Sure Marvin was sad for whatever reason with the hero, but c’mon! That must be embarrassing for them!

He thought, thought so hard about this, trying to keep relaxed — why was he so stiff by the way? — that for a second, only a second, he forgot what was even happening and petted Marvin’s “hair”, out of habit of having his cat on his lap.

He quickly removed his hand after he didn’t hear any purr, instead a questioning sound.

— I��m, I’m sorry! It was habit, I do this with my kitty, you know, so I, I...

— Do it again.

— ...I’m sorry?

— Do it again. I... liked it.

— ...Can I?

— It’s ok, Anti. I trust you.

[sergeantsporks]

Moving On

General Audiences

Gen, with some background Staja and Jlaire

Everyone seems to be moving on after the battle against Bellroc. Douxie seems to be the only one who can’t

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32747662

Or read under the cut

Jim had the chance to fix it all—to go back in time and keep everything from happening.

And he chose not to.

He said they had to soldier on. To carry the burden, respect the dead. He’d destroyed the time stone.

Douxie knew, in his heart of hearts, that he was right. That time travel would only bring more heartache—he knew that from experience. He knew that meddling with time was a bad idea. He knew that knowing the future was a responsibility, he knew that you couldn’t just “fix” everything. Jim was doing the right thing.

But JIM hadn’t lost everything.

Jim still had his girlfriend.

Jim still had his mother.

Jim still had Blinky, and AAARRRGH!!!.

Jim had lost Strickler, yes. And he’d lost his best friend. He hadn’t made it out unscathed, Douxie knew that. He knew he had no right to be angry at Jim for his choice, his RIGHT choice.

That didn’t make it any better.

That didn’t stop the raging, sick feeling in Douxie’s stomach as he thought about a future without Archie. Without Nari—even though he’d only been with the demigod a year or so, she was FAMILY. He’d put off his feelings for the fight—he’d moved on fast because he’d had to move on fast—but those feelings were catching up to him.

Claire was comforting Jim. Douxie stumbled away from the scene.

It wasn’t fair.

Krel and Aja hadn’t lost anyone—in fact, they’d gained about 7 someones. Good for them—at least they’d gotten out of this unscathed.

Jim and Claire had lost their friend. Jim had lost Strickler. But they still had others, their families.

Douxie had lost everything.

He still had Claire, of course, and Jim, and Steve.

But he’d never been their top priority—Jim and Claire had each other, and Steve had Aja, and Eli. And that had been FINE, he didn’t NEED to be everyone’s top priority. He’d had Archie and Nari, and he’d made them HIS top priority. And he’d been theirs.

But now?

Now, he’d lost them.

Nobody seemed to notice him go. They were mourning Toby. Of course they were mourning Toby, of course they SHOULD mourn Toby. It wasn’t fair to put his feelings over theirs—this wound was fresh. Of course they should have time to grieve. That was only fair.

Fair, fair, fair, fair.

Nothing was fair.

When he was far enough that he wouldn’t disrupt their mourning, Douxie finally gave out. He collapsed to his knees with a scream, a burst of magic breaking anything nearby that the titan hadn’t already destroyed. He pounded one fist into the ground, his vision blurring with tears and blue magic.

Nari.

Archie.

And he’d lost others, too, some time ago, but the new grief brought up old loss.

Merlin.

Morgana.

His parents, who he’d never known.

It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair!

Douxie punched the ground again. His knuckles slammed into broken glass and stone, but he didn’t care. He screamed out a sob, pressing his arms to his stomach, bent over double. Magic was emotion—and his was out of control. Blasts of energy were pulsing out of him in random bursts, clearing the area of rubble.

The magic and screaming faded to ugly, heaving, sobs.

No one had noticed.

No one had come to see where he’d gone.

Nobody noticed that he was hurting, too. That his whole life had been torn to shreds in the last 18 hours, and there was no fixing it.

Well, there had been a chance to fix it. But even that chance was gone, now.

Douxie would have given it all up—his staff, Merlin’s approval, everything—to see Archie and Nari again.

But he didn’t have that option.

The funeral passed in a blur. When his friends asked what happened to his hand, Douxie shrugged and said it must have happened in the fight. Everyone cried when they talked about Toby. About Strickler. Even Nomura got a few tears. Everyone cried for Archie and Nari.

Everyone but Douxie.

He didn’t think he could.

They asked if he wanted to say a few words for them, since he’d been the closest to them.

He couldn’t do that, either.

That would mean accepting that they were gone.

Archie wasn’t even dead. He just had to find him, he just had to—

“Douxie?” Claire took his bandaged hand. “You know we’re here, right? You don’t have to do this alone.”

Right. But he was alone. Archie had been there for him before—Archie had been his confidante, Archie had been the one he’d brought his feelings to. Archie.

Douxie clutched Claire’s hand so tight the tips of her fingers turned white. “You can—Archie’s not dead, you can find him. We can portal in, we can—”

“Douxie—Douxie, we can’t. The den is protected against my magic. Remember?”

He turned desperately to Krel. “The wormhole—they wouldn’t know to protect against that, you can open up a wormhole into it, then, right?!”

But Krel was shaking his head, too, “Not without coordinates—which we don’t have. I can’t lock in on feelings like Claire can.

If Nari had been here, her empathy magic would have been able to find coordinates.

But Nari wasn’t here.

And neither was Archie.

Jim wandered over, wiping his eyes. “Douxie. I’m sorry. I know you lost people, too.”

That didn’t even begin to cover it, but Douxie nodded and said thank you, and left.

The world went on.

Everyone else seemed to be moving on.

They had a memorial service every anniversary.

Jim, Barbara, and Claire brought flowers to the graveyard every weekend. Douxie planted some live ones on the empty grave that marked Nari’s date of death and let them grow wild.

It was what she would have wanted.

Everyone else seemed to keep going.

They went to work.

They finished school.

The learned to laugh again.

Everyone but Douxie.

Douxie scoured Merlin’s grimoire for clues that could bring Nari back—bring back Nari, bring back Archie with a wormhole. Easy. But there were none.

So he raided what was left of the bookstore. He read and read and read until he was sick of words, until his eyes were strained and he couldn’t see far away anymore.

But there wasn’t anything in the bookstore, either.

He moved on to the Camelot libraries.

He forgot to eat most days. Even on the days Jim showed up and cooked for him, Claire would clear away untouched plates.

And who needed sleep anyway?

Years passed. Years. He’d made it halfway through the Camelot library.

Except he couldn’t summon the energy to climb the library ladder anymore. He brought books down from the top shelves with magic, and discovered it was easier. So he stayed at his table, magic cycling books through.

He had to tie his hair back in ponytails and braids to keep it out of his face. The blue color had faded out of it, leaving it its natural black.

He missed Jim and Claire’s wedding, despite the fact that it took place a few doors away.

He missed Steve and Aja’s children growing up.

But he’d waited 900 years for Merlin. Surely he could work at least that long on getting Archie and Nari back.

Some days, he broke down and threw books across the room, angry at himself, at the Order, at Archie and Nari.

Other days, he’d stare at the wall for hours at a time, his magic waiting to clear away books he wasn’t reading.

Some days, he ran through the empty halls of Camelot, sure he’d seen Archie’s tail whipping around a corner. Sure he’d seen a flash of green.

He never really had.

On those days, he couldn’t make it back to the library. He’d collapse in the hallway, trying to summon enough energy to get up and keep going.

It was on one of those days that a shadow portal opened underneath him, dumping him neatly on a couch. Claire was waiting, her arms crossed. When had she gotten so mature and beautiful? And when had Jim, who was standing next to her, gotten so tall?

“Enough,” Claire snapped.

Jim put a hand on her shoulder. “What Claire is trying to say,” he said gently, “Is we’re worried about you. We have been for a while.”

“We were giving you time,” Blinky said quietly, “Time passes differently for wizards and trolls than for humans. We thought if we gave you a few years, tried to support you, you’d move on. Like the rest of us have—even AAARRRGH!!! But you cannot go on like this.”

Looking at the troll made a revelation drop on Douxie’s head. “I’ve been looking in the wrong place! Blinky, I need all of your books, I need to find out how to get into a troll market without the bridge, there is a way, I just—”

“NO!” Claire yelled, “No more research! No more books! Stop! Just… stop.” Her voice broke. “Douxie, you’re not okay. You’ve wasted away, and you can hardly walk. You don’t sleep. You don’t eat. You just read, and read, and read, and for WHAT?! Archie and Nari wouldn’t want you to waste your life like this!”

“I’m fine!” he protested.

Claire swiveled a makeup mirror towards him. “Look at yourself! Do you look fine?!”

Douxie stared at the reflection. It was a stranger. Claire and Jim had gotten older, had changed.

He’d stayed the same age.

But he’d changed, too.

His face was pale, gaunt, cheeks sunken in. The shadows under his eyes had always been prominent, but now they were so dark Claire could probably use them to make portals. His hair had gotten long, and dull.

And his eyes.

They were desperate. Tired. Strained.

And so, so sad.

Claire sat down next to him, taking his hands. “Archie and Nari are gone, Douxie,” she said, her voice cracking again, “Toby’s gone, Strickler’s gone, Nomura’s gone—we get it. It hurts. But they’re dead, and they’re not coming back. It doesn’t matter how much you destroy your health. It doesn’t matter how many nights you stay up, how many meals you skip, how many books you read. They aren’t coming back. You can’t keep going on like this. You said you hoped Archie would be happy. Don’t you think he’d want you to do the same?”

And Douxie finally broke down crying.

He hadn’t cried like this since the day it had all gone wrong. Since he’d first realized that he was alone.

He sobbed into Claire’s shoulder, ugly, heaving sobs that made his chest hurt. He cried all of the tears he couldn’t cry at the funerals. He cried all of the tears he’d held in on frustrating nights when he’d nearly given up. He cried until he didn’t have any tears left.

And Claire let him. She hugged him tightly—she’d gotten older. His student had become an adult. And he’d missed it. He’d missed so much.

“What—what do I do now?” he hiccupped, “They’re gone—and if I can’t get them back, what do I do?”

Jim put a hand on his shoulder. “The same thing we all did, the same thing we should have helped you do at the beginning, instead of letting you go this far alone, the same thing we’re going to help you do now. Shoulder the burden. Heal. And move on.”