#Once I have finished this patch I need to sew his tail back on. He is rather well loved.

[satans-knitwear]

Behold, your friendly neighbourhood part-time Giraffe surgeon.

[angel-of-the-moons]

How would Poe react if you sewed something for him? 👉👈 idk what, something nice or something silly. I think he'd appreciate it and I feel like he might be someone who's always giving gifts to ppl and no one thinks to get him anything.

Made With Love

Poe Dameron x Reader

TW/CW: None! Fluff!

A/N: As someone who sews a lot (sometimes by hand when I need to calm down) this is something I'd totally do askbdlsh

💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫

You cursed as the needle slipped and pricked your finger, bright blood welling up in a tiny pinprick before you squeezed what your boyfriend designated your "blood-sponge".

It was just a spare chunk of fabric you sterilized every time you began sewing, because stabbing yourself with the thin little metal slivers was always inevitable. You had more callouses from hand-stitching and embroidering than you did working on fixing consoles and electronics.

You were an analyst, not just the person who repaired the much-needed tech for the Resistance.

A battle analyst, statistical analyst, a "tech jockey" some called you--but many simply knew you as Poe's "partner in crime" as you oversaw many of his flight missions and dogfights.

You tied off the last stitch and held the fabric up to the light.

Poe's last scarf had gotten torn to tatters in a cantina brawl; so, the next time you were planetside, you hit a local market and scored some nice fabric to knit him a new one. It was a wonderful pass-time for you, especially if you were stressed out. The repetitive motion of seeing and embroidering soothed your mind enough to relax. Once, Poe had even caught you passed out with a half-patched shirt clutched in your hands, your head lolled back on your chair, the angle making you snore loudly.

Poe actually had BB-8 snap a holo of it. He still says it's his favorite holo he has of you--completely relaxed and at peace. (Although the pain in your neck was awful when he picked you up and laid you in his bunk.)

The scarf you had made Poe this time had the Resistance emblem embroidered in bright colors to match his flight suit, as well as a tiny BB-8 next to it.

Just then, the voice of one of the air traffic monitors buzzes through your comm; "Hey, tech jockey. Your boyfriend's squad is back. If you high-tail it now, you'll be able to make it to the hangar before they land."

You grin and jump to your feet, folding the scarf and stuffing it in one of your deep back pockets as you made a mad scamper, scrambling to lace your boots back up to make your way to the hangar.

💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫

"Poe!" You giggle excitedly, shouting across the hangar as the mechanics carefully extract BB-8 from Poe's X-Wing.

Poe turns to you with a grin, spreading his arms wide as you throw yourself into them; his thick limbs wrapping around you in a tight hug, picking you up and spinning you around with a very nice welcome-home kiss. May have had a bit too much tongue on his part, but you were just happy to have him back and be in his arms once more.

BB-8 trills at you as he sets you down nudging your leg affectionately, and you reach down to pat the little mech's cranium. "Awww, hey lil buddy! I missed you too!"

Poe grins again and slips an arm around your waist, his dark eyes glimmering mischievously. "So... How's the best analyst in the Resistance been doing since your handsome boyfriend has been doing suuuuper important scout work, eh?"

You roll your eyes and snort. "The usual, you goof. I've actually had a bit more downtime, lately. General Organa actually smacked me on the head and told me to go and get some rest when I overworked myself."

"Oooh, not surprised there. She's scary when you don't do what she says." He snickers, kissing your cheek again. "Anything else?"

You gasp, remembering your present, and fish it out of your fatigues. Poe tilts his head curiously at you, then, as you pull out the scarf.

"Here! I finished it today!" You chirp proudly.

Poe takes the scarf with his eyebrows raised high, holding it up to examine it. He grins when he spots the little bits of embroidery you did for him; BB-8 beeping happily and bumping into your shins affectionately when he spots his likeness in the fabric.

"Do you like it?"

"Like it?" He says, his brow furrowing and his lips pursing tightly. At his expression, you feel a lump of anxiety well up in your throat.

It is quickly quashed when he grins once more, his eyes lighting up as he slips the scarf over his head and hangs it from his neck, flicking the edge over his shoulder and striking a dramatic pose.

"How's it look? C'mon, tell me. Does it bring out my eyes?" He said, waggling his eyebrows. "I bet I can use it as a disguise!"

You clap your hands and laugh, "Poe... How would that even work?! People can still see your face!"

He pulls up the edge of the scarf and covers up the lower half of his face and nose, but you can still see his lips peek out from the fringe.

"Not if I hold it like this!" He says.

You roll your eyes and shove his shoulder playfully, "You're not funny, Flyboy."

"Heyyy! I'm adorable." He argues humorously, wagging his eyebrows once again. "And handsome, and talented, and--"

BB-8 cuts him off with a dismissive trill, tweeting as his antennae bob.

"You're right." You nod at the little astromech. "He is full of himself, too."

Poe clutched his proverbial pearls, gasping in offense at the two of you.

"Ow! Whose side are you on?!"

[kriber]

stitches and stuffing

and the acquisition of wings by one (1) grian [1045 words]

-=-

"Scar?" Scar blinked at the sudden voice, then wheeled over to the edge of his train and looked down. Grian stood there, staring up at him with a face as blank as ever.

"Well hello there, Grian!" Scar chirped.

"I need your help," Grian said.

Scar hummed. "Of course! What do you need?"

Grian pulled out a pile of fabric. "Can't reach my back."

"Ohhhhh, sure thing!" Scar immediately knew what Grian needed from him. "Come on up!"

Grian didn't hesitate to climb up the ladder, throwing the fabric into Scar's lap. The zookeeper picked up the material - soft and fluffy, in orange and blue and gray hues. The fabric was sewn into wing shapes, already stuffed with cotton.

Scar dutifully dug out a needle and some thread from a small compartment by his bed. "Surprised it took you this long to come up," Scar mused. "You usually get me to sew your wings on as soon as you get an elytra, and I noticed you don't really have one yet!"

"Taking things slow this season," Grian hummed, tapping the floor with his foot. He was dressed in big brown overalls and boots, and there was an odd patch on his arm. He was really into the fishing thing this season. He even had a ratty old beanie on his head.

Not to mention… "What's with the… uh," Scar motioned at Grian's face.

Grian looked away and poked at his new facial hair. "Thought it'd fit the vibe. I was fishing for so long, I just took some hair from my head and glued it on my face.

"Wait, wait, wait," Scar laughed. "From your head?"

Grian groaned and pulled his beanie off. A bald spot appeared from under the hat.

Scar cackled. "Oh, Grian there had to have been a better way!"

"I was BORED!" Grian blushed, face digging deeper into his collar. "I can glue it back!"

"All the stitching I did for that waffle, gone?" Scar gasped in mock hurt, putting a hand to his chest. "How could you?"

Grian rolled his eyes. "Yea, yea, can you help me or not?"

Scar chuckled. "Yea, G, come here."

Grian chuckled too, and turned to go sit on Scar's bed. "This might work better."

"It might work better if I could actually work on you," Scar rolled his eyes and wheeled over to his bed.

Grian blinked, then realized. "Oh. Right. One sec."

Before Scar's eyes, Grian completely changed. It wasn't a gradual thing, it just happened all at once. What was previously a 5 foot something fisherman in a red sweater was now a 3 foot tall plush doll. Grian shrugged off the suspenders of his overalls, which were now big and slumpy. He flopped down on the bed, his back pointing up. "That good?" he said, his voice not even remotely muffled by the bed. It never is.

"Perfect," Scar said, and lined up the wings where they usually went. He also placed the tail in its appropriate spot, though he did have to pull the overalls down slightly. Grian's usual black pants were underneath. Not like he expected anything different.

"I'm surprised you still need to ask me to drop the illusion," Grian commented, not even flinching when the first needle broke his sweater-skin. "You've been doing this nearly every season for me."

"I work with glamours, not illusions!" Scar huffed, tightening a stitch. "They're completely different!"

"Aren't they the same, like, conceptually?" Grian asked.

"Not at all!" Scar smiled, always ready to go on a rant. "Illusions trick the brain into thinking something's there when it isn't. Glamours cover something, like a pretty face or sparkly sparkly wings!"

"Ohhh, so illusions add while glamours subtract?" Grian realized.

"Something like that, yea!" Scar said, finishing up his stitch. Grian's right wing was now sewn on, and the doll gave it a little test flutter. At his thumbs up, Scar moved onto the second wing. "What bird are you this time?"

"Kingfisher," Grian replied.

"Makes sense," Scar nodded. "Why not something like a seabird?"

"I like the colors of kingfishers," Grian chuckled.

"Fair enough!" Scar said.

They worked like that for a while, Scar filling the air with rambles about Star Wars or the train he was working on, while Grian relaxed and let the air be saturated with his friend's voice. Eventually, they finished, and Grian hopped off the bed.

"You look amayzing!" Scar clapped.

"Thanks to your sewing skills," Grian complimented, turning around in a circle. His soft footfalls barely made a sound. "I look great!"

"They aren't even elytra'd yet," Scar frowned slightly. "Are you not gonna fly?"

"Like I said, I'm taking things slow," Grian turned his beady little eyes to Scar and tilted his head. Scar knew how a smile looked like on his friend. He didn't have a mouth, after all. "Slow like a snail."

"Ohhhh are you the one who sent that snail to Gem's base?" Scar chuckled, looking over at the beautiful lighthouse nearby. A tiny teal speck was barely visible from here.

"I did no such thing," Grian said innocently, in that exact tone he had when he was definitely not innocent.

"Mmmmhm, sure, G," Scar laughed. Then, he snapped his fingers. "Oh, what if I give you little snail antenna?"

Grian gasped and his wings flapped in excitement. "YES!!! That would be so cute!"

Scar smiled at Grian's enthusiasm. "How about you go fishing, see if you can get that mending book-" he stifled a laugh at Grian's groan "-and I'll whip up little feelers for you?"

"Oh, that'd be great, Scar, thank you!" Grian said. Then, the air around him warped again, and he was back to looking at least somewhat real. Scar could still see the ethereal thread that held his limbs together. He stretched his wings, real and feathery, and flapped them once. They propelled him slighly forward, and he laughed. Scar's own wings, hidden under several layers of glamour, fluttered.

"I'll be back!" Grian said, jumping off the train and gliding back to his dock. Watching him run, it was hard to tell he wasn't really alive in the first place. Scar rolled his eyes and tooted his train's horn. Well, time to work on those antenna!

[anemonelovesfiction]

16~ In Rut/ Heat

Aged Up! Tsireya x Fem! Omatikaya Sully! Reader

Warnings ⚠️: (poorly described) Amazonian Tribbing, Eating out!, Fingering!

Not Proofread

MDNI 🔞

I think this one is my longest written day yet! 👀

Translation Station

Marui: Home

Tewng: Loincloth

Paysyul: Water Lily

Word count: 3k

I’ve attempted to focus on the tasks before me, meant to distract my mind for the entire day, but to no avail. I’d put as much of my attention as I could on the salve I was making at this moment and yet still felt the need to scratch that itch. At this moment I knew it would be useless to attempt to endure any of this any longer but there was nothing I could do to help myself since I was too busy moving back and forth between healing those from the hunting party that had come back injured.

“No, I am fine, I just need to be patched up and I’ll be good to go,”

My ears had perked up to hearing the sound of her voice floating through the small crowd of people that had formed inside the healing tent, the familiar melodious voice reaching me, my tail swishing over excitedly toward the side in a poor attempt to calm my beating heart. And at this moment I could tell I had two problems.

“Go to Tsireya and she will fix your arm.” My mothers voice is carried through in an authoritative manner as I finally finish the salve I had made, taking some of it in my hands and evenly spreading it on the top of a warriors foot, he had speared his own foot by not being careful earlier in the month. The salve I had made having healing properties as well as a numbing agent to help with the pain he was dealing with.

“I am all done with you, A’tuk, please come back of you need more salve or your injury starts bothering you again.” I dip my head out of respect for the elder man before me, he nods his head once and grunts with affirmation, standing from the spot he had sat and headed out.

“Sorry to have to bother you-“ Her voice rings in my ears steadily, I could tell she was standing behind me and waiting for me to acknowledge her, I turn with a practiced smile on my face and see her tense up.

“It’s no bother at all,” My voice wavered slightly and I mentally shivered at how that must have appeared to her. She only nods her head slightly, ducking it in a way as she sits herself on the chair in front of me.

“Whats going in with your arm?” I asked as a means to take some of the heat off of me and place it back on her, only for her to show me the gash she had, my ears stiffen straight up and my eyes widen a bit upon seeing her injury, scrambling to find my supplies as quickly as I could to sew the gash shut.

“Was sparring with my brother and didn’t deflect fast enough.” She responds simply and keeps her head down from looking at me. I find this odd but nod my head without speaking about it any longer, she seemed to not have wanted to talk about it and I couldn’t blame her.

From the moment she came to my village with her family seeking uturu I found myself drawn to her in a way I couldn’t explain. When speaking to my mother about it after a while of them being here she explained to me that those feelings were because I was attracted to her, to which when had stated was alright to feel.

Thinking back to her comment about sparring with her brother piqued my interest as I deduced it had been Lo’ak who had accidentally hurt her, he was most often the one who acted without thinking, Neteyam is the reasonable one.

“You should be more careful and not spar with real spears. You need to use the ones the children use so you do not gain injuries like these.” I stated while wetting a rag and catching a sweet smell wafting over my nostrils, one of flowers and honey, the scent itself was rich yet mild. I take a sniff at my rag and look up to ask her of she also smelled what I had but stop myself upon seeing her flushed face and eyes shut, she must have started her heat- which must have distracted her from her sparring- and that must be her smell.

_________

I’d almost ran out of the healing tent as soon as Tsireya had finished her job, muttering a quick thank you to her for having fixed the gash on my arm, feeling ashamed for having distrated her with the smell from my heat, I knew she had smelled me from the moment she sniffed at the air around her. I’d closed my eyes tightly and said a quick prayer to the all-mother for nobody to have commented on it and I’m assuming she’d heard my request as nobody said anything, but Tsireya would continue sniffing the air around me whenever she got the chance, pretending to smell the cloth and the objects she had been holding.

I knew my next objective would be to get to my family’s marui to pack a small bag and head over toward the marui’s built at the edge of the village, conveniently dubbed the Rut Hut’s, they had been on a secluded side of the island where non-mated people could go live out their heats and ruts, they were allowed a partner to help lessen the burden of their cycles, but considering I was a female who was also into females and I was too damn shy to trust anyone with my cycle, I had been alone.

As with everything else within the Metkayina clan, going to one of the Rut Huts meant you had to follow a set of rules. You had to pick your fruit from the miniature woods near the marui’s, you had to fetch your own water near the water spring at the center of the woods, and you had to clean up after yourself once you had finished with your cycle. My cycles were never paired up with anyone else’s and I was lucky in that aspect because I didn’t bump into anyone else but it was also unlucky as I had to suffer through them alone.

I had managed to leave a note for my family to let them know why I had disappeared and not bothered to show up to the communal dinner, making my way over toward the marui’s at the edge of the village, carrying a small bag with my comfort items and ensuring I had everything through a mental checklist.

“Can I ask you a question?”

I essentially jump in the air from not having had my senses on alert, not expecting someone to have been following me at this point, and upset at the squeal that had left my lips, knowing I was supposed to have been a warrior and reacting like a child. I turned just as quickly as I had jumped and come face to face with Tsireya, I choke back another surprised squeal and take a step back to give myself space from her, feeling the purple hue starting to take over the original cobalt blue that covered my cheeks.

“Y-you just did?” I attempted to sound smooth and failed as my voice had risen higher than normal and I spoke with a small waver.

“Have I done something to upset you?” She skipped over my own comment and went ahead and asked her question, my body relaxing at that moment as I stared at her with confusion, wondering why she had bothered asking that question.

“No.” I stated honestly but had no idea how else to continue the conversation, knowing I had to head over toward one of the Rut Hut’s before eclipse, or else I’d be a horny mess.

“Then why are you always so quick to get out of my presence?” She asks with the hurt swirling in her beautiful eyes and it was starting to make some sense to me. She hangs out with my family a lot, through that I had developed a small crush on her, something Lo’ak teased me over from the moment we arrived on the island, but because of my developed crush on her I didn’t want to appear desperate so I began avoiding her as often as I could in order to make it seem like everything was normal. I guess throughout the time I had spent avoiding her I must have unintentionally hurt her feelings by making it seem like I didn’t want to be around her.

“I guess I have something to explain to you,” I spoke honestly as I drop my shoulders to show I was in a relaxed state although my mind was racing a million times a minute as I took a deep breath, allowing myself to let it out slowly in an attempts to calm my heart and mind from everything going on and began to explain everything to her, not withholding any details and ensuring everything had made sense.

“Do you have a partner to help with your heat cycle?” She asks me after processing the entire story and it takes me aback as she hadn’t asked any questions during my explanation, I could only raise a hesitant brow before shaking my head and answering her question.

“Good, because I’d like to help.” Her smile throws me for a loop and see the slightest bit of purple dusting her cheeks as well. Maybe this won’t be a bad thing…

_________

I’d been instructed to lie down in the marui floor and to spread my legs. My slick had already made a wet patch on my tewng and I had attempted to close my legs only to have my thighs slapped as punishment, I couldn’t believe my eyes when she’d placed her nose right into my crotch and took a big whiff. She’d managed to come up and settled her body between my legs, either arm in the sides of my face, and her lips hovering over mine.

I’d been confused on if this was her teasing me or if she truly wanted to kiss me so I leaned my face upwards and captured her lips with my own, feeling her tongue dart out and swipe my bottom lip, to which I greedily opened my mouth and allowed her the access she craved. Her tongue danced around mine and I attempted to poorly follow, realizing this was part of her teasing, whining into the kiss and hearing her chuckle.

She kisses down my jawline and onto my neck, her kisses feeling feather light and somewhat tickling my sensitive spots and causing me to moan. She continues kissing down up to where the skin of my neck met my shoulder, spreading her lips open and grazing her fangs along the most sensitive skin, my body shivering at the contact and a long drawn out moan following.

“Please-“ I begged almost too quiet but noticed her ears flicker at the sound, her mouth coming off my neck and her face coming into view.

“Patience paysyul, I want to savor you, and you’re injured, I do not want to cause any pain.” Her hand comes into contact with my cheek and I can feel my heart flutter at her nurture. I could only stupidly nod my head at her words as her lips come back down onto the skin between my breasts.

The beads of my top colliding against one another as she licks between the open spaces, a shiver running along my spine as she does so, feeling my nipples harden and stand at attention, a desperate gasp being her only cue that I needed more from her.

She takes my gasp into consideration as she plants her warm mouth onto my half clothed nipple, a bead rolling around the sensitive skin as she rolls her tongue alongside it, encouraging the bead to stimulate my nipple alongside her tongue, the slick on my tewng probably growing in size at the feeling of bliss she was bringing me.

I could feel her hand trailing down toward the string of my tewng, untying it, I raised a hand to stop her from uncovering me to only have it pushed back down and above my head.

“I will love how you look regardless of what you think about yourself.” She reassures me and lets go of my hand, placing her mouth on my second nipple and repeating the process she had the first tome, another moan slithers out my mouth as she uses her second hand to slide my tewng off my body, her first busy using her thumb to flick the first nipple her mouth had abandoned.

“Tsireya~”

“Hmm, I like when you say my name,” She begins kissing down my stomach and slowly shuffling herself lower, her eyes come up to meet mine and I feel frozen, entrapped in her stare.

“I wonder how you taste, paysyul,” She asks aloud before licking a fat stripe up my cunt, shockwaves being scattered throughout my body, thighs coming in to a close around her head, a small chuckle being heard from between my legs as she licks another stripe up my sopping pussy.

“You don’t even need to be prepped huh?” She speaks gently as she shoves one of her fingers in me and my eyes instantly closing. I’d done this to myself on numerous occasions, but having someone else doing it to you was out of this world, I don’t think I could picture myself ever having to suffer through my heats alone after this magical feeling.

I could feel the surge of heat coursing through my body as Tsireya picks a pace, shoving her finger in and out of my already loud cunt, the noises resonating from the walls of the marui, my tail swishing underneath my body erratically. Her tongue finding my clit and causing my tail to go rigid.

I can hear her chuckle once more and lazily open my eyes to find her staring at me, mouth coming off my clit and an immediate whine coming from me, I didn’t want her to stop suckling in my bud like her life depended on it.

“You’re so greedy, paysyul, what if I wasn’t breathing, would you still beg for my tongue to press along your sensitive nub?” She teases and I groan.

“You can fuckin’ hold your breath, Tsireya, stop teasing-“ I muttered rather angrily and hear a light laughter ring about the marui, dropping my head in a frustrated fashion.

I could feel her inserting a second finger, my eyes instantly closing again and she picks up the pace, I could feel a knot starting to form on my lower belly and frustration starting to build, knowing she was going to stop again, wanting her mouth on my clit again.

“Why don’t we try something?” She offers and I couldn’t open my eyes at this point, I didn’t want to be disappointed again, and the pace she was setting was actually feeling incredible, my hips bucked against her thick fingers and I wanted to feel more.

Until she stops.

A frustrated hiss comes from me and it surprises me to know I had one ready.

“I’m going to put my cunt on yours, and rub our clits together, until we come.” She stated easily, sliding her fingers out of me without waiting for my response- which would have been a no because I felt close to my orgasm, only to have it ripped away from her.

She stands with ease and I could feel the anger building in my entire being, I wanted to finish, not be teased further! That was until she unties her own tewng and it falls on the floor with a small thud being heard.

“Wow-“ is all I could say, watching as she walks toward me, leaning down to lift my legs up in the air, her own body coming down in a squat-like fashion, essentially placing me in a mating press- although this had a funny name in English- amazonian?

My mind shuts off as soon as she thrusts her hips onto mine, my cunt squeezing over nothing, and she does it again, a ragged breath leaving her lips as she does the action a third time and thats when I felt it. Although my slick was providing enough lubricant for us both, I could feel her clitoris rubbing up against mine, circling it like the beads of my top had done over my nipples.

“Taireya~” I moaned rather loudly only to have her smirk as she picks up the pace, my breath starting to grow ragged as I attempt to catch it, not having much luck with the pace she had set, finding it hard to breathe and not finding the ounce to care as the pleasure she had been providing me being too great.

She had been using my legs as a means to steady herself, but had also been pushing them further back to be able to reach the depths she has been reaching.

I could feel a permanent blush settle itself across my fave as it grew hotter, feeling Tsireya’s thrusts becoming faster as our clits danced together, never once letting go of one another. I craved my orgasm as I could feel the knot in my stomach tripling in size.

“Reya, please, Wanna come so bad-“ I muttered almost incoherently as my tail began to swish from side to side underneath me, finally willing it to come up and curl around her ankle, in a way this was the only way I could ground myself while feeling like I was losing control. Her soft pants coming from above me tell me she too was nearing her orgasm.

“Alright paysyul, I’m going to go faster,” She managed to speak through her moans and keeps her promise of going faster, my eyes now rolling to the back of my own head and feeling the coil snap as I orgasm, feeling as she too reaches her own orgasm as she moans out loud.

[silverechosandblankmasks]

Platonic Polyam Bench Trio Marriage AU

You guys asked, so here I am to deliver! Platonic Polyam Bench Trio marriage au where Tommy marries into Tubbo’s and Ranboo’s platonic marriage. (focus on Tommy lol)

NOTE; These are about the c!characters and not the irl people, and I'm writing this like a poly queerplatonic relationship okay? None of this is intended to be romantic or anything else and anything that is in this list is PLATONIC INTENTIONS ONLY

Edit; Now called the Bench Husbands Au

-It kinda all kicks off when about a week or so after Tommy gets out of Prison. (Note, nothing after the first stream after Tommy gets out is canon in this au, as well as some things before)

-Tubbo and Tommy finally have a small fight and argument, before talking, like really talking and Tubbo invite Tommy to come live with them in the mansion in snowchester once its done.

-Tommy doesn't really want to... but he’s tired and lonely and still scared to death and Tubbo promises he’s safe with them, plus if they lived together they could plan on how to kill Dream easier as well.

-Ranboo doesn't mind but after that he tries to go talk to tommy more, but Tommy isnt... the most receptive? Tommy is suffering still and is feeling very replaced and lonely, but doesn't excuse his kinda snippy behavior with Ranboo

-This finally comes to ahead when Ranboo snaps and calls him out, leading to another small fight, before Tommy apologizes and they also talk. This one is more in depth though and Tommy talks about what happened in exile, in the prison, and just general shitty stuff that's being going on. 

-Ranboo, in turn, talks to him about the voices and Dream’s voice and the sleepwalking and Tommy is very much more concerned about them then anyone else he told was, and validates the fear about it, and resolves to help Ranboo get rid of it somehow.

-After this, and both trying to convince the other they should tell Tubbo, that they both probably need to tell Tubbo. They want to keep him safe and not worry him, but... they both need help in different ways and they both love him enough to not do that to him.

-The night ends with lots of tears, Tubbo admitting his own traumas and tears and what he’s been not saying, and a promise to help each other.

-Its not a while after that actually Ranboo brings up the idea of adding Tommy to their marriage. He can tell the blond is struggling with feeling replaced and low-self esteem, and it would help him feel more equal and loved maybe? Tubbo thinks its a great idea and they go to ask Tommy.

-Tommy’s pretty uppity at first, he believes its just them pitying him and treating him like glass again, which he hates more then anything, but after they calm him down and explain they just want him to feel equal and that they both actually cared for him and wanted him to join in on their thing, he’s more contemplative. Ranboo nervously throws in a few other points, like how for legal reasons it could benefit him like it was for them, their allies had to leave him alone, plus Tubbo only started making his own hotel becuase he wanted Tommy to start interacting with him again, and-

-At this point Tommy just, interrupts and says yes, surprising them. They didn't exactly think he’d say no, but they thought it would be harder then that. He laughs at their expressions and says why not? Plus it stood to reason they’d want Tommy, everyone wanted Tommy.

-Ranboo and Tubbo exchange a look before bullying their now platonic fiancée. They agree to get married as soon as the Mansion is done, and till then Tommy can finish packing his stuff and a few other things he wanted to do.

-Also Tommy is totally not avoiding Michael because every pet he ever got close to has died and he doesn't want to get attached and risk Tubbo and Ranboo losing something they cared about because of him, no siree, why wouldn't you think that?

-Speaking of Michael!

-Its not all that strange to keep undead mobs like Zombie piglins as pets, in fact Zombie Piglins are the probably better undead mob to keep around due to their mostly passiveness if you want a pet and the fact they don't need much to eat and wont really be harmed if out leave them alone for long periods of time

-Though Tommy kinda thinks Tubbo and Ranboo’s insist on treating him like their child is weird, but he’s willing to let them have it, clearly it made them happy to play around

-Isn't until he finally moves in that he realizes that Michael is different then other zombie piglins and finds himself being pulled into the parent dynamic as well

-Though now that he thinks about it, something about Michael seems off… welp it's probably nothing :)

-When the mansion is done, he tears down the dirt shack and makes it a community garden and it becomes one of the only things that stays free of the red vines (who knew watering it with water from the holy land would make it untouchable? It's thanks to this garden later others figure out how to defeat the egg)

-They elect to not have a ceremony, not now at least but Tommy actually thinks a small wedding party would be fun at a later date. Ranboo doesn't mind much if they have one or not but Tubbo is actually very excited about planning it.

-Tommy wears his ring on a necklace most of the time, but occasionally wears it on his fingers, usually when he needs something to fiddle with.

-Ranboo wears his on his tail (the area right before to fluffy part) normally but also wears it on his finger sometimes when he feels like it. (If your version has horns, he also does that too) it just really depends on what he’s feeling and if he’s forgotten where he put it. He also like, never takes it off unless to move it around because he’s afraid to lose it.

-Tubbo wears his as an actual ring on his finger (though if he has horns, sometimes he puts it on one of em if he needs the ring to be off his hand.) Tubbo learned the hard way when building nukes or other machinery (since, if you can believe it, his husbands aren’t that comfortable with the nukes as he is) you can't wield or do high heat stuff while wearing metal and nearly lost his finger. He’s very lucky and he has a small scar from it.

-Each of them have their own rooms so they can have their own space and somewhere to go if they want time to themselves/store their stuff in, but there is a 4th room (directly across from Michaels) where they share and tend to curl up to sleep together. About 5 out of 7 days of the week, some combo of them are cuddling together at night, more if they're having a bad day or nightmares.

-There's multiple bathrooms in the mansion but there's one they all like the best and will fight over it/race to get into it first before the others and the other two will stalk off salty to use a different one

-They're all pretty tactile people but out of them, Tommy is the most tactile (once the fear of being hurt recess he practically attaches himself to the others) and Ranboo is the least (he won't seek out comfort and touch as much as the others unless he needs it, but is the best at telling when the other two need touch or need to be left alone) and Tubbo is in the middle of that.

-Tommy is the one that cooks most of the time, Ranboo is banned from it after The Incident and while Tubbo is okay at cooking, Tommy just knows more recipes and how to make things taste really good.

-Tommy picked up sewing from when he was a kid, even before he was found by Wilbur and adopted by Phil, it was useful to be able to patch the rags he called clothes, and just ended up continuing because his brothers and dad sucked at sewing. It then morphed into full tailoring because he found it relaxing and liked being able to make his own clothes. He can and will be insulted if anyone wears anything he deems ‘ugly’, especially his new husbands. He makes them clothes all the time, specially Michael.

-In fact he also cleans the most, he just gets bored and while he makes a mess, if the house gets to a certain point he gets really uncomfortable and overstimulated, so he cleans.

-DomesticInnit? In my au? More likely then you think!

-Gradually the whole ‘watching the prison’ and ‘planning to kill Dream’ starts to fade as he gets back into the groove of living again and therapy. He’s just… tired of Dream having a hold on everything Tommy does, he’s sick of it. So… he just tries to live these days one step at a time. (Healing arc baby! Dream can die mad UwU)

-Tommy dragged them both to Therapy with him after a while.

-Because of this he finds himself home a lot with Michael, especially if the other two are busy. They’ve pretty much decided that someone has to be home with Michael at all times, which is now 100% more doable with the 3 of them, and Puffy or Foolish babysit if there’s ever time they can't.

-Tommy is a lot less of a hovering helicopter parent then the others and was the one to finally convince them Michael cant live trapped in a room. Yes, they were all worried for his safety but… you can't raise a kid in a cell, even if it's a nice one. Tommy takes Michael out more

-Tommy started to sleep walking again once they moved in and he still gravitates towards water for some reason. Nothing more startling then waking up because you plunged into frigid below 0 temp water while sleepwalking. Ranboo also enderwalks/sleepwalks more as well and there've been some nights where Tubbo has had to track them both sleepily walking around and make sure they don't hurt themselves or drown or something. At least Ranboo is semi-aware when enderwalking and normally just does weird ender things, Tommy likes to apparently walk into oceans or climb the mansion and nearly fall off and wander hundreds of blocks away. Tubbo’s not salty at all, really.

-Sapnap, Quackity, and Karl are 100% salty the benchtrio got platonically married before they got married

-They fight about last names all the time despite none of them actally taking eachothers last name, and if they happen to pick and choose on which one they’re feeling based on mood, well they can do what they want!

-However its agreed Michael’s last name is hyphenated so he’s now ‘Michael Beloved-Underscore-Innit’

These are all I have for now, feel free to ask about it or use my ideas! <3

[joannasteez]

Hey lovely! Could I request a little something for Jax? It could be a headcanon or imagine, it’s up to you. But could it be about the reader is Angel and Ez’s little sister, and she’s in love with Jax?

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 {𝐇.𝐂}

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Jax Teller x Reyes!Reader

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: The emotional direction wasn’t specified so I kind of just went with what came to me, by the way, This is my very first request!!, so hope whoever sent it in enjoys ❤️

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: Angst. Fluff. I also suck at simplifying things so this is another long head canon, apologies if that sort of thing bothers you all lol.

Credits to the gif maker @tragertrap

Taglist: @my-rosegold-soul @appropriate-writers-name @est1887 @xladymacbethx @elektriknachosss @queenbeered @sesamepancakes @superhoeva @witching-hour @noz4a2 @nutterbu @withmyteeth

If you’d like to be tagged for Mayans MC fics ONLY let me know!!

☠︎

It amazed Felipe at times, scared him even, at how similar you looked to your mother Marisol. The spitting image of her; a younger, but slightly taller, reincarnation. But you were your fathers child through and through. The toothless yet warm endearing smile, the sharp intuitiveness, placid nature, and just through the black center of your eyes, enough experience to cover a few lifetimes. It’s what the Reyes men feared the most, that uncanny familial trait that forces you to bury such soul crushing pain, to turn cold to things that warrant warmth. Your father has it, your brothers as well, Ezekiel more than Angel, and so do you.

You had it now, that calm, collected demeanor, as the guys brought in a bleeding Jax Teller through the entry doors of the lodge. He was barely conscious, eyes dim, limbs heavy, and blood staining all along his color drained skin and the aged leather of his kutte. If you were anyone else you’d be alarmed, startled by the amount of blood and frantic men, but you were you, having seen too many things that resembled such a scene to let even a shudder pass through you.

“Get the kit, we need you to sew him up but he’s lost a lot of blood.”, Bishop says briskly, filled with worry, and your feet move faster than your mind can comprehend, snatching the kit laying near by and pacing to the bedroom where they have Jax. His head elevated by pillows, Both Ezekiel and Angel hot on your tail waiting for you to give them directions.

There’s a poorly wrapped cloth that lays against the wound, and just as you peel it back you pressurize the wound with a gauze. “I need gloves”, you say.

Angel’s a bit taken back, the President of the Sons original charter is on the precipice of death and you’re talking about gloves. “We don’t have time for that”.

“Just get the fucking gloves Angel”, you clip. Tone harsher than it’s meant to be, but he takes no offense and moves quick for the gloves before coming back.

You’re cleaning Jax’s skin once there on, wiping away all the blood that pours from him. A needle in your hand, eyes steady. “This is gonna hurt”.

Jax is sweating, teeth clenched at the piercing sting of the needle. “You sure you know what you’re doing?”

Did he really just ask you that? “I guess we’ll just have to find out”, you deadpan.

“Y/N”, Ezekiel warns.

The situation isn’t funny, a man’s life is on the line but still, you want to laugh at the audacity. “What?! He’s got a bullet in his abdomen and he’s worried about if I know what I’m doing”.

There’s silence now, a heaviness that settles to suffocate the whole lodge it seems. A dread of existential proportions that looms like a phantom in the waning rusted gold of the setting sun. The stillness is calming as you work, slipping the fine needle through his paling skin with a frightening ease that forces a worried look to Ezekiel’s face, Angel’s as well. Mayhem has consumed them all, men who laugh in the face of death everyday are doubling over, overwrought with fear, and here you are, unaware of the dark silhouette that threatens to form over Jax’s body, inching over the walls, creeping slowly as they tease whispers of death through the wispy blow of the wind.

Your brothers leave after while, called out by Bishop and Chibs who are talking over possible scenarios for revenge.

“Can you stay after this......... please?” It’s barely a whisper, and it’s drawled, but you hear the need in his voice.

It compels you to say “Okay”.

When you’re finished you wipe at Jax’s skin again, fingers trembling just the slightest as your mind catches up with your body, or is it the other way around? You’re not sure, but the two have surely had a crashing reunion and now you’re exhausted at such a fast build and fall of adrenaline. You’re thinking now, at the side of the bed, of deeply buried memories because the blood reminds you, it always does. All you see is Marisol, and your vision is blurred, eyes glistening with warm tears that comfort your skin, thumb shaking as you push the wetness away. She’s so lovely in your mind, a bright silhouette framing her and she’s so beautiful, so light and gentle. The aura of her, just from a thought, it makes her presence palpable again, till you remember she isn’t really there. Because it’s just a memory. A timeless mirage of sorts that ungrounds you from reality.

You breath, looking to the clock to find that it’s been three hours already. Three hours of you looking through your memories for your mother, Marisol. It’s purposeful, must be, why the need to think of her is so strong in this moment of all moments.

It’s infuriating, that you weren’t there, you couldn’t save her, but you were here now and you saved Jax. That counts for something right? It had to.

He’s awake again, and you’re not sure how but he is. Must be the force of his will that has his eyes opening, fighting against a sleep that feels too much like forever. “You alright?”

His eyes are a near lifeless blue but still they’ve got shine to them. “I should be asking you that, you’re the one that got shot”.

“Why the tears darlin’ ?”

You’re not up for a personal deep dive, never have been really. “Don’t know what you’re talking about”.

He smiled, noticing your reserved demeanor. “They we’re probably tears for me, I saw how worried you were earlier”, he jokes sarcastically.

You roll your eyes. “Why’d you want me to stay?”

“Didn’t want to die alone, if I did”.

You shake your head, fully convinced of otherwise. “You weren’t gonna die”.

He gives a weak smile. “I know that now since we’re talking, unless this is a dream, or some purgatory shit then I’m screwed”.

You chuckle at his dazed rambling and it makes his weak smile a little stronger as it spreads. Amusement looks good on you. Pretty. “There it is”, he says. Talking about your little smile.

There’s a stretch of silence, and it’s contemplative for Jax. Flashes of the incident from moments prior running through his mind. He’d just met Galindo for the first time, shook his hand, exchanging pleasantries. They’d talked business and at the end all parties seemed happy with the results, but it made him wary. How well everything was going, something somewhere was bound to go wrong, and yeah maybe he was a bit too pessimistic in the moment but it proved him right. The Sons and The Mayans were riding back to the lodge when the Lobos attacked and he can’t remember much after that, just feeling more than alive and then a little ways from death. His father calling him and then his mother, and he almost answered. He’s glad he didn’t.

“I’m sure you know as much as I do, you see a lot of shit when you live this life. Seen more guys than I can count take a bullet, and more times than none I’ve been the one to give it to them”. He’s quiet, contemplative. On the rise of something that resembles an epiphany. “After a while they just become faceless y’know, nameless, just kill #52 on someone’s list. That’s what it felt like, I was about to be on somebody’s fucking list and that shit is scary”. He turns to you then. “And then the next thing I know I’m in here, with your pretty ass standing over me saving my life. I thought I was in heaven”.

You roll your eyes, it’s delirium from the blood loss, making him say things he doesn’t mean. “Even with a bullet wound, flattery gets you no where Teller”.

“Tell me what does”.

———————————————————

𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 & 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐇 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑

He’s warm under your skin, heartbeat a sweet song that pulses a quiet steady rhythm into your ears. It’s a comforting thing, soothing and mellow like the fiery cool blend of a setting summer sun.

You feel his hand, cool rings caressing the nape of your neck. “You awake baby?”

You move against him, to let him know that you are and a hand pulls gentle at your chin. “Let me see you darlin’ ”

Your body pulls up atop of his, bare chest moving along his and toward him so that you’re face to face, legs tangled together. His hands reach to caress your face, touch a gentle flame that burns to light your skin. It’s the first time you’ve seen him in the morning for weeks, the club stealing him away every moment it could, screwing around with the days you’d set aside to see each other. He grins, loving the dim set of your sleepy eyes. “Hi”.

“Hi”, you say. Tone rasped, sleepy.

There’s a glimmer in his stare, a dazzling sparkle that lives just over the grayish blue of his irises. You don’t identify it, what the warm glint means, for fear of being wrong, but somewhere inside, you know it’s love. It looks to pure to be anything else. He’s grinning again, all nostalgic like. “I was thinking just now, about that day when you patched me up. Best day of my life”.

You scoff. “You almost died”.

“But I got to meet you”.

You’re shaking your head at how lovey dovey he’s being. “Always with the flattery”.

“I’m serious, I fuckin’ love you. More than I ever thought I could”. He rolls you both over easy, his lean build on top surrounding you, fingers still caressing idly against your face and yours drawing along his tattooed back. He kisses you, patient and deep, as if to savor this moment. Staining his memory with the soft pliant flesh of your lips, the airy moan that resonates from your chest, and the lulling skim your nails give the gold of his hair. Forget the Irish and their guns, the Cartel and their H and everything that isn’t this. If he could, he’d stay with you here. Just like this. Forever.

He’s at your neck now, teasing you with tongue wet kisses and stingless nips, but something comes to mind. A wary thought that’s bugged you for a while. “When are we gonna tell my father about us. I want you to meet him”.

He looks to you, confused. “You don’t wanna tell your brothers first?”

“Ezekiel already knows. Found out the first time we met back up to see each other”. You’d thought you’d been sneaky enough that night, leaving after everyone fell asleep, but Ezekiel was always a couple steps ahead it seemed, following you out of Santo Padre a few hours to a bar where you’d met up with Jax. The conversation with him was easier than you expected, but still he was wary, and how couldn’t he be. You were his baby sister. He’d worry till his last breath. “... and I told Angel a couple of weeks ago. Couldn’t really get out of explaining how I had your rings laying around”. You couldn’t remember much of what that admission to him entailed, besides the look of disbelief he had, and then the screaming, and then eventually the forced calm of his expression when he realized that there was nothing he could do about it. It was still unbelievable to him, you weren’t that little girl anymore, no matter how much he wanted you to be.

You were grown, beyond capable of making your own decisions. But boy did it scare you having to tell Felipe.

“Whenever you want to tell him I’m ready”.

His sureness makes you smile, wide and bright, laying a kiss to his rosy lips. “I love you too Jackson”.

[n-miri]

More Tommy-Purpled friendship content!! CW for: brief mentions of corpses and death (via being struck by lightning) 

Word count: 1610

On rainy days, Purpled polishes his sword. It’s a good weapon: netherite, with Sharpening V, Unbreaking III— the usual overpowered enchantments. He isn’t complaining though; the stronger he is, the better. He goes through a collection of blades, from the one he knows best to the oldest one he owns, on the verge of being grinded into dust. Wipe, sharpen, steer clear of rust. Keep the blade clean and dry. It’s easy to get lost in the repetitive motions. 

Dogchamp lies by his side, close to the fire, hind leg poking at his thigh through the soft material. Their ears perk up, and their tail begins to wag. Back, forth, thumping on the floorboards. 

A door slams open, followed by a myriad of curses. It’s the usual rainy day, after all. 

“Don’t let my floor get wet,” Purpled says immediately. His voice rebounds within the house, a meagre two rooms decorated with torches. A temporary base, if you will. One that he’s planning to blow up soon. 

His UFO was… 

It just isn’t the same. 

“Fuck you,” the trespasser immediately responds. The house is unbearably empty despite its miniscule nature. “I’ll do whatever I want.” 

A beat. He probably found the towel Purpled placed on the counter earlier, specifically for this scenario. Footsteps, sharp against the falling of rain—white hair peeks out from the door. Tommy sneers at the other derisively, before crossing the room in five long steps and dropping down on Purpled’s other side. 

This has become a ritual of sorts, with the two blondes (or, in Tommy’s case, ex-blonde) seeking refuge from bad days. Sometimes it’s sunny out, or the middle of the night; most of the time, it’s raining. 

The day they met, it was raining too. Wide eyes meet each other in the solace of darkness. The past is unforgivingly cruel, and whispers mockeries into their ears. Tommy looked so small, in the Church Prime’s pew; Purpled was sure he looked equally as haggard, hand clenched around the hilt of his sword. 

So, Purpled invited Tommy to his base. It’s warm despite being unfamiliar, and Dogchamp is amicable towards traumatised teenagers who need way more therapy than life is willing to give. They talked a bit about the stupidity of other members. Rarely, there was a glimpse into their lives, what they missed and have lost. Neither of them actively asked and, in a sense, it was comforting. 

Then it happens again. And again. Tommy pulls out his sewing kit on the third visit and demands to patch up his hoodie. Purpled teaches Tommy how to shear sheep, wool coming off in lines of blue. Just like this, they help each other. There’s too much left unspoken and no expectations to be had. There is no debt to be repaid, or a favour to be granted, or a profitable exchange. 

It’s just that. It’s just them, crossing each other’s path sometimes. Seeing how the other has changed from their previous meeting. 

“It’s stupid,” Tommy says suddenly. His shrill voice pierces through the haze of thoughts. Pale eyes flicker around the room, with shadows from corners pulling faces. “This is what you do in your spare time? Fight, prepare to fight, fight some more?” He scoffs, not even sparing Purpled a glance. “Idiot.” 

Much to the mercenary’s bemusement, Tommy proceeds to pull a cake out of his inventory. As in, a full-blown, home-baked dessert. 

“.... Huh?” 

An embarrassed scowl creeps onto his face. “Don’t be like that.” He drops the plate loudly onto the space between the two. “It’s edible, if that’s what you were wondering. I know how to cook shit. Niki…” Tommy’s eyes grow distant, fingers twitching, as if moving to punch the treat into oblivion. “She used to bake. A lot. Back in- y’know, back in L’manberg. I learned a bit from her,” he finishes lamely. All the bravado has left him. 

“That’s cool, dude,” Purpled replies. “It looks good.” 

“Wh- of course it does! I’m poggers at everything I do. That’s why the women love me.” Carefully, the boy flicks strands of white hair away from his eyes. “I’m astonishingly charming.” 

There was a time where Tommy’s hair imitated the sunlight, gold and yellow and bursting with happiness. He smiled more. Laughed more, too. Was more brash and insolent; was so willing to see the good in everyone he met. 

Now his hair is completely white. His dull eyes flicker around the room and his hands are always, always trembling. Tommy is different from who he was before. 

The Tommy and Purpled of before would never have become friends. 

“Hold up, let me cut it.” Saying that, the mercenary raises his newly polished sword. Tommy sputters, holding a hand out to stop him. 

“Why can’t you use a knife like a normal person!” 

Purpled shrugs. “Technically, a sword is a very big knife. It’s… stabby and shit.” 

Exasperated, Tommy gets up from his spot in a tangle of long limbs and half-hearted glares. “I’m going to slice this cake like a normal person. It deserves to be treated with respect.” 

“We’re going to eat it anyway,” Purpled points out. 

The other sniffs indignantly, turning heel to find cutleries. Dogchamp lifts their head in his direction, turning to Purpled, then back again. Slowly, the wolf raises from their sitting position and trots out of the room. Traitor. 

From the closed window, lightning streaks through the sky, followed closely by a clap of thunder. It’s loud, Purpled winces. He had expected it but- the sound still makes him jumpy. Rainy days in general are terrible. 

The patter of rain against the dirt and harsh concrete pulls out a vivid scene from his memory. Soldiers, rising out of graves, burdened by shiftless armour, heaving up weapons twice their arm span. Thunder imitates piercing shrieks, the blast of an explosion. Raindrops sound like corpses hitting the ground. 

Everytime it rains, he recalls that scene with bitter reminiscence; greets it like an old friend who came back to haunt him as an afterthought. It’s not the best way to spend his day. 

“You know,” Tommy says, having entered the room when he wasn’t aware, “I got struck by lightning once.” 

Distantly, Purpled thinks of raindrops rolling through hair and a shock so bright it electrifies the body. The event he construes in his mind, like always, paints his own death in a morbid way. He wonders if he died, would anyone come visit him? Would there even be a grave? 

“That sucks,” the blonde replies. 

Tommy gives a non-committal hum, shifting the objects in his arms. In one hand the boy carries a kitchen knife and in the other, a blanket. It’s the one with a UFO print on it—too childish for the purple boy’s tastes, yet too precious to be thrown away. 

Once again, the two -three, counting Dogchamp- are back in their original positions. The blanket is draped over Purpled’s lap and he watches, warily, as Tommy’s shaking hands raise the knife. At this point, Purpled would have offered to do it. He nearly does, too, but- 

Ten minutes have passed. Eyebrows scrunched, a bead of sweat against his forehead, Tommy tries to steady his grip and cut the cake in equal slices. It doesn’t work. It’s uneven at best, falling apart at worst, but- 

None of that matters. He did it. 

A ‘good job’ or ‘gg’ sticks on Purpled’s tongue, sincere yet worried of coming off as patronising. Instead, he gives a silent thumbs-up and hopes that conveys all the things he wishes he could say. 

Tommy grins. “Eat up before it gets cold, purple boy.” Neither of them mention that it’s definitely not warm anymore, with how long it’s been and how cold the weather is. Obediently, the teenager picks up the tiniest chunk of cake and pops it into his mouth. 

Sweet is the first thing that touches his tongue. Honestly, it shouldn’t come as a surprise— Tommy started over-seasoning his food after the prison visit, the same time he came back with a head full of white hair. That, paired with the fact Awesamdude said he had died, creates a sinking feeling in Purpled’s guts. It doesn’t take an idiot to connect the dots. 

“Yummy,” he comments. “Delicious. Uhh, what other synonyms are there? Delectable, tasteful-” A choking laugh cuts him off, too loud and too worryingly breathless all at once. “I’ll give this a… hm. Maybe an eight out of ten.” 

“I should have gotten full marks,” Tommy says sarcastically. “Glad you like it, though.” Underneath the amusement is the barest form of sincerity, and that’s enough for the both of them. 

“Uh-huh! I do.” 

Once the rain lets up, the two will part again. Purpled will wash sugar off his fingers, keep the polishing kit in a chest and carry on with his life. That’s how this has always been. 

But for now, light from the fireplace casts a glow across their faces, painting a sunset upon Tommy’s self. It’s reminiscent of older days, better days; ones that have long since passed. They’ll never get any of it back—family, homes, the people they once were. All they can do is yearn for what has been lost and move on. 

So for now, Purpled stops focusing on the what-ifs and could-have-beens. For now, he relishes in the warmth in his sides as he laughs himself silly. Dogchamp dozes off contentedly. A blanket is shared, covering his and Tommy’s laps, barely offering heat. The half-eaten cake lies between them and his friend is threatening to smash it into his face. 

Outside, rain drums against the earth. Neither of them pay it mind. 

[adarlingwrites]

Absolution

Summary:

noun: formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment

The Capital Wasteland lauded the Lone Wanderer as a hero, a Messiah, a savior who's willing to give her life for the Good Fight. Beyond the legends, the propaganda, and the mythification that surrounded her legacy, there is only one person who knew her bare soul. She gave him his absolution, and now he will fight for hers.

III

September 17, 2277.

From her reaction to Ahzrukhal’s murder alone, I had a hunch that she’s different from my previous employers.

“I assume Ahzrukhal wasn’t very high on your list of favorite people?” my new employer comments, eyes still fixated on the stump where Ahzrukhal’s head used to be.

“Ahzrukhal was an evil bastard. As long as he held my contract, I was honor bound to do as he commanded. Now, you are now my employer, which freed me to rid the world of that disgusting rat,” I tell her, to which she smirked. “And now, for good or ill, I serve you.”

“You won’t have to throw drunks over the balcony or make young women land on their asses without good reason, I promise you that.”

In secret, I held on to that promise.

Half past midnight, my new mistress and I sit at one of the tables in the Ninth Circle while Ahzrukhal’s body starts catching flies. She skims through my contract, and tucks it away under her Pip-Boy glove. Onlookers were staring, but no one dared approach me, the tall, intimidating ghoul with a shotgun, and the smoothskin girl with a Gauss rifle who holds my leash.

“Right! First order of business. My name is Percy Zhou,” she introduces herself, and extends a small, gloved hand. I stare at it at the moment, trying to read any discomfort or disgust on my mistress’ face, and when she raises an eyebrow, I grasp it, and she gives my hand a shake. I couldn’t help but notice how large my hands are in contrast to hers. I let go as soon as I could; it wasn’t unpleasant. Not a lot of employers would go out of their way to touch me, and I am not used to it.

“Can I ask you something?”

“If conversation is what you wish, then I shall provide it.”

“So formal…” she chuckles. “So, is your name really pronounced ‘Sh’aron, or is it ‘Kh’aron, like in those old mythology books?”

No one has pronounced my name like that in quite the long time. When a barely literate raider boss acquired my contract years ago, he started to pronounce my name as ‘Sh’aron out of mockery. It stuck. At my new mistress’ pronunciation of my name, however, my brain is starting to itch again, but the need to respond to her holds me back. “You can call me whatever you prefer, mistress.”

“Don’t call me mistress, please.”

Please. A word employers never use. Coming out of her mouth, it felt strange.

“Anyway, if I start calling you Mr. Dreamboat, you wouldn’t object?”

I snort, despite myself. The reaction elicited a giggle from my new mistress and she waves her hand. My previous employers, Ahzrukhal included, laughed at me, not with me. “Ah, so you have a sense of humor,” she laughs, pushing her glasses into her face. “I’m kidding, don’t worry.”

“Charming.” It came out of my mouth dry and flat.

“I’ll start calling you ‘Kh’aron, then.”

Percy starts digging in her pack and produces two sticks of bubblegum. She unwraps and starts chewing on one of them, and offers one to me. I took it partly to stay in her good graces, and partly because I have been eating nothing but disgusting mole rat meat for quite some time, courtesy of my previous employer, of course. The last time I had sugar... I still had skin.

“Charon,” my mistress calls my attention. She is showing me a map on her Pip Boy.

“This,” she starts, pointing to a waypoint on the map, “is the Museum of Technology. It’s right across us, but getting there isn’t a walk in the park. Unlike ghouls, Super Mutants don’t ignore humans out in the open.” I nod in response.

“Which is why I wore my sneaking suit for the occasion. I don’t want to engage in a direct gunfight. It’s too dark, and my eyes suck. Are you any good at stealth?”

“I am proficient,” I respond.

“Perfect. Anything else that you’re good at that we can use to our advantage?”

“Aside from firearms, I am trained in handling explosives.”

“Great,” she exclaims, and her small hand disappears into her pack once more. She hands me three frag grenades. “I was planning to sell these to Tulip. You can hold on to them.”

I nod, storing the grenades away. “Also, I’d like you to provide me cover fire in case we get detected and this bad boy fails to take down the muties,” she adds, motioning to her Gauss rifle, and I nod. How did a kid like her get her hands on a powerful weapon anyway?

She then starts briefing me on our objective. A satellite dish. Seems simple enough.

When she started a damn treasure hunt in the museum, however, things got more interesting than I previously anticipated. Percy picks off the mutants with her rifle, and scouts forward. She sees the museum terminals and decides to tinker with them. The next thing I knew, I was tailing her around while she hunted for more terminals. My mistress, deep in concentration, stares at numbers at a terminal, muttering something about prime numbers as the green glow reflects on her glasses. At the moment, I was annoyed, but when we found a key in the safe, I was astounded to see a missile launcher inside the gun locker it unlocks. In poor condition, but it’s a fucking missile launcher nonetheless.

At that point, I stopped questioning myself how my mistress can get her hands on valuable loot. She’s thorough. I respect that.

As soon as we finished looting, we proceeded with the mission as normal. We acquired the dish, and what was supposed to be a simple task of locating the Washington Monument to replace the old one turned out more complicated when one of the big green bastards spotted us when the missile launcher rustled against the satellite dish.

“Here we go,” Percy yells, rolling behind a barricade. “I’ll snipe. Cover me.”

One. Two. Three. The mutants start falling. One with a sledgehammer is heading to her blind spot and I finished that one with my shotgun. Four. As my mistress was reloading, one of the mutants threw a grenade to draw us out. Faster than I can think, my reflexes kicked in, and I tackled my mistress, covering her body.

I can barely hear my name as my ears rang, but I can clearly hear the distress in my mistress’ voice. She slips from underneath me and retrieves her rifle while I lie face first in the dirt.

Five. The last mutant fell. I got on my hands and knees and I felt a small hand grasp my bicep, forcing me to sit.

“Shit. Shit. Charon, are you okay?”

I nod. “Are you injured?” I ask her back.

“Shit, big guy, don’t worry about me, you’re the one who’s bleeding” she curses, looking at my back. “You have shrapnel all over you.”

“Your safety takes priority. I can withstand the pain.”

“Bullshit. Once we arrive at the monument, I’m patching you up first before we do anything else,” she insisted, pulling me up and wrapping an arm around my waist as we walked all the way to the monument.

“That is not necessary.”

She ignored me.

As we arrived, the Brotherhood soldier standing at the gate almost opened fire at me if it wasn’t for Percy waving her arms. Percy sets me down near the radio, and starts rummaging her pack for medical supplies, yelling at any gawkers to give her and her patient some privacy.

“This is not necessary, mistress,” I tell her, and she rolls her eyes at me.

“What did I tell you about calling me ‘mistress?’”

“I apologize. I will not call you mistress again, ma’am.”

Percy groaned, throwing her hands up in the air. “Hey. Stop. I’m not used to being addressed as a superior, and it’s making me uncomfortable,” she starts, taking a bottle of antiseptic and giving it a good shake. Taking off her gloves, she splashes them all over her hands.

“I’m asking you to adjust to my methods. In this partnership, we are equals. Got it?”

“The contract dictates that we are not.”

Percy pauses. “It does?”

“Yes.”

My mistress lets out an exasperated groan. “Jesus, dad is right. I need to read contracts before agreeing to them…” she mumbles to herself. “Let’s sort it out later. Take your shirt off.”

Complying, I shed my shoulder pads and stripped from the waist up. My back is revealed to her, along with all the scars, peeling skin, and my protruding spine. I can feel Percy’s gaze as she kneeled behind me. She wasn’t making any movement, or talking.

“Is there something wrong?”

Soft fingers press on old scars, tracing an old whip mark. “Who did this to you?”

Her voice came out as a cracked whisper. Tension started to boil in my head. “If my mistress wishes to find out, I will do my best to recall.”

“You don’t- you don’t remember?”

“No.”

“I won’t press any further. My mistake,” she whispers, apologetic, and she finally moves again. “Hold still, big guy.”

Through clenched teeth, I let out a grunt when she started to pull the bits of shrapnel from my back. “Some of these wounds need stitches. We have no anaesthetic, sorry. Tell me if the pain is too much.”

“How I feel is irrelevant.”

“How you feel concerns me,” she insists. “You said that my safety takes priority, yes?”

“...yes.”

“Then,” she continues, plunging the needle in my ruined skin. “How can you focus on protecting me if you are injured? Or ill? Or in pain?”

“I am trained to withstand great injury and pain. My main objective is ensuring your protection regardless of my physical condition,” I grit through my teeth, and exhaling in relief when I feel her sew the wound shut. “And you did. I’m just returning the favor. Just let me fuss over you, big guy. It won’t hurt either of us,” she argues, her breath warm against my nape, and I hoped she didn’t notice the goosebumps I had on what’s left of my skin.

I stopped arguing with her at that point. She is different from my previous employers indeed.

Percy injects me with stimpaks, then moves in front of me and turns on her Pip-Boy light. “I’m just gonna check for a concussion.” She shines it in my eyes and everything is white.

“I was training to be a doctor before I was forced to leave the vault, you know,” she tells me, then she turns off the light. My vision readjusted to the rising sun, its rays hitting her eyes through the holes in the building, her irises shifting from almost black to a vibrant brown. They remind me of chocolate, a rare treat from pre-war days.

“Your pupils are dilating and constricting equally, so no brain injury. I think. How are you feeling?” she asks me, and I look away, not daring to meet her eyes.

“Better.”

“No headaches or pain?”

“None.”

“Good. Get dressed and rest up, I’ll install the dish.”

I didn’t respond. I didn’t feel the need to.

When she returned, she had a smile on her face and her bun had come undone from the wind up the tower. She slumps next to me and opens a bottle of Nuka-Cola from her pack. After taking a swig, she passes the bottle to me.

“What a day. Let’s rest for awhile here,” she tells me, rolling her joints.

“Certainly.”

“Help yourself to whatever food we still have in the pack,” Percy half speaks, half-yawns. “I’ll take a nap. Wake me up in thirty minutes?”

“As you wish.”

Thirty minutes passed, but I didn’t touch any of her food, content on drinking the sugary drink in hand. I gently shake her awake. When she wakes up, she blinks a few times at me, smiles, and she runs her fingers through her hair, sticky and matted from her sweat. “I should probably get a haircut. Let’s get to Underworld. Snowflake offered to do it for free.”

After resting for a few more minutes, we stood up, collected our gear, and I followed her. While walking back to Underworld, she turns on her radio, and Galaxy News Radio comes in clear as day.

“People of the Capital Wasteland, you can hear meeeee! Yeeeaa haaaa!!! You can't stop the signal, baby! That's right, from Megaton to Girdershade, Paradise Falls to the Republic of Dave, we are coming to you loud and proud, in a special live report! ”

Percy beams and laughs. “That Three Dog is quite the character, huh?”

“But Three Dog? You're in that cool radio studio in D.C. How do you know I can hear you, all the way out here in the ass end of nowhere? Because of the kid from Vault 101, that's how! That gal actually managed to repair our antenna relay. But get this, she wasn’t acting alone! Sources say that a tall, dark, and scary ghoul was accompanying Miss 101 as she braved through the super mutants in downtown DC. Who is this mysterious ghoul? Hired muscle? A slave? A friend? Whoever he may be, the Ranger of the Wastes is safer with him around, so cheers to him too. Now, the two of you, hurry over to GNR. We have a lot to talk about!”

I doubt the last statement.

As we approached Underworld, Willow is nowhere to be found. Something’s wrong, and Percy feels it too, turning off her radio.

“Charon. Willow’s missing. And it’s too quiet.”

“There may be danger here,” I tell her, placing my body defensively in front of her as we approach the entrance.

The doors swung open, and Doc Barrows stood there, along with Willow and a few other residents, pointing their guns at us.

“We need to talk.”

[yellowroseanddreamstorm]

Chapter 2: The Rebels

It wasn't long before the liberation of Necromas' territory was underway. The Dawn members acted with great haste, removing workers from the camps and getting them into proper homes, medical treatment, food, whatever they needed and apprehending any of Necromas' remaining forces that were refusing to surrender. It was a slow process but it was something wonderful to see nonetheless.

Especially for The Dawn's leader, Admiral Nari Wong.

Nari smiled as she observed all the activities going on around her, doing her part of making sure everything stayed orderly and provided aid when she could.

I'm just happy we finally got another place liberated. Finally making more dents in the Ecliptic Claw's territory.

"And then, SHINK! The mane came clean off!"

"Whoa…"

Nari turned her attention over to a group of liberated camp workers who were talking over an open fire and meal. More specifically, a young one of the bunch seemed to be telling some kind of story.

"What happened after that?" one of the worker's asked.

"After that, Leonideas declared the territory was no longer Necromas' or the Ecliptic Claw's then just walked off after letting out a huge roar. I don't know how he did that but it was amazing and chilling at the same time."

Nari gave a flat look at the mention of Leonideas' name.

Ah… That explains why the raid worked out so well. Our old lion friend.

Nari sighed, shaking her head.

She didn't hate Leonideas. Far from it. However… he was a little annoying in her eyes... and a pain at times. Mainly in the fact no matter how many times they had tried, he had never sworn allegiance to The Dawn. He was fine with helping them but he didn't want to be affiliated with them. For some reason. He never disclosed why.

Regardless, Leonideas had been a huge help to The Dawn in recent times but Nari couldn't help but be weary about the man. A man who only follows his own motives was something to be cautious about. After all, said motives could possibly one day conflict with theirs.

For now… she was grateful for the time being he was useful to them.

Let's just hope it stays that way.

"Admiral Wong."

Nari looked to the side to see two soldiers approaching her. They gave a salute before speaking again.

"We've received word from King Solleo of Aurorias that Princess Elara is on her way to the planet to provide resources and aid to our cause."

"Ah, perfect. Please keep an eye for her ship then and ensure she arrives here safely. Last thing we need is the Ecliptic Claw getting their hands on her. When she has arrived, please bring her to me right away."

The soliders saluted again.

"Ma'am, yes, Ma'am!"

Nari smiled, nodding.

"You two are dismissed."

Both left without another word, leaving Nari to her work.

A liberated dome and a new source of relief on the way.

Nari chuckled

Today is a good day.

oooooo

The outside world of the domes was a mystery to many. Some wondered if it was just as bad as the insides of the domes or if it was better. No one was really sure… except for those who did roam the outside areas. Be it members of The Dawn… or those hiding in the shadows, going about their services in their own ways. Having goals of their own to tend to.

Unlike popular rumors of those in the domes, the Earth outside was beautiful. Lush vegetation, clean air and skies that at the moment of time were a beautiful gradient of orange and red. As much damage as the Ecliptic Claw had done to the spirits of those who inhabited the Earth, they had in an odd way helped the planet heal from some man made causes.

The young alien hummed to herself as she led a group of Pantherians, young and old in a straight line. Where they were going, they weren't sure but as far they knew, the bug like alien had promised they would be safe. As did her human companion.

Her six legs had a rhythm to them as she continued on, twirling her staff a bit.

"Gotta say, Leonideas really put on a show today, don't ya think Jim?" the alien asked her human companion.

Jim nodded, folding his arms behind his head.

"Oh yeah, never fails to show who's boss. Though…" There was a glint in his eye. "He's gonna be hearing about those claw marks on his back from his medic."

The alien girl brought a hand over her mouth, trying not to laugh too loud before leaning in close to Jim, whispering to him so the Pantherians behind them couldn't hear.

"Are you gonna need a big needle?"

Jim chuckled.

"Maybe, Laika, maybe."

Jim stumbled a bit as a young Pantherian tugged at his arm.

"Mr. Human?" They asked, their tail swishing. "Where are we going?"

Jim gave a gentle look, patting their head, giving a small scratch behind the ears.

"Somewhere where you will all be safe from the Ecliptic Claw and from… not so accepting members of The Dawn."

Laika frowned at this.

"Hate the fact we have to do this with that second factor in mind but… given what's going on right now…"

Jim sighed.

"Yeah, just better to be safe than sorry."

They soon came upon an opening in the ground that had a set of stairs in it. At the bottom of those stairs, was a warp panel.

Jim and Laika turned to the Pantherians.

"This will take you to a hidden base on the moon." Jim explained. "After you pass through this portal, there is no returning to Earth for a while. It is your choice if you wish to stay here or to go."

Jim and Laika stepped aside, waiting to see how the group would respond. It was a moment before Pantherians started to walk up to the warp panel. One by one they disappeared from site. Laika and Jim made note that only a few had decided to not go. They didn't chase them though. Their choice was theirs and they wanted to respect that.

Soon, it was just the two of them… well, so to speak.

Laika looked around before making a chirping noise.

"Here, Kiwi!"

A kiwi bird emerged from a hiding spot, scurrying over to her, making its way onto her shoulder. Laika smiled, nuzzling the bird.

"There you are. Keep the portal nice and safe for us?"

"Chirp!"

"That's my girl."

Jim chuckled, before looking around, making clicking noises with his tongue.

"Abyss! Here kitty!"

It was a minute or so before a black cat with long fluffy fur emerged from its hiding spot, its yellow green eyes glimmering a bit in the dark setting. The cat ran straight up to Jim, nuzzling his legs.

"There's my boy." Jim stroked the cat's fur. "Kept Kiwi out of trouble?"

"Mew!"

"Oh haha." Laika smirked. "More like my Kiwi kept Abyss out of trouble."

"... Point taken." Jim lifted Abyss into his arms. "Regardless, they got each other's backs."

"Just like we have each other's backs."

"Yup… Now, just need to find Xross."

"You rang?"

Laika and Jim looked to the staircase, seeing a young man dressed in clothes with purple glowing designs and a cloak on over it. His purple eyes glinted with mischief as he approached them.

"There's our man of the hour." Jim chuckled, placing a hand on his shoulder once he was close enough. "Holding up alright, Xross?"

"Yeah. Necromas wasn't too bad. Only thing that currently hates me is my back." Xross gave a sheepish look. "Speaking of, think you could…?"

"Let's set up a camp then I'll work on treating ya."

"I'll get the campfire ready!" Laika grinned, hurrying out. "We're gonna feast tonight!"

Jim chuckled.

"She's been going on and on about us having Martian fish soup. Should've seen how excited she got when she was able to buy some Martian fish at the market."

"Ah, I see." Xross grinned. "Well, I look forward to trying it."

"Me too, but first, let's treat that back of yours."

Xross gave a nod, following Jim out of the opening in the ground.

Laika was already busy at work setting up a small fire and a cook pot. She hummed to herself as she got her ingredients together, Kiwi setting up her tools for her.

"Med bed is ready for use." Laika pointed to a bed roll that wasn't too far from her set up. "Do as you please."

"Thank you." Jim nodded, shedding off his back pack. "Alright, Xross, let's see the damage."

Xross nodded, removing his cloak, shirt and chest plate before lying down on the bed roll on his stomach.

"Do your worst, Bro."

Jim smirked, examining Xross' back.

Xross had done a quick patch job with some gauze and tape over the claw marks, both soaked in quite a bit of blood. Jim carefully removed them, getting a better look at the injuries. They weren't deep, thankfully, but there were some minor burns and slight skin irritation.

"Okay, not too bad. A quick disinfectant should do the trick on the burns and irritation. No stitches this time… save maybe for your battle clothes."

"Already fixed them up." Xross closed his eyes, grinning. "Nano sewing bots make clothing repair so easy."

"That they do." Jim smirked, digging into his backpack and pulling out his tools, getting to work. "Though I hope you're not saying that just to make me feel good about my little inventions."

"I'm serious." Xross had a glint in his eyes. "I wouldn't swipe them for no good reason."

"I'd like them back once I'm done with treating you here. My little bots should not be anywhere near battlefields."

"Hey! I kept them safe-"

Jim gave Xross a small poke on one of the claw marks.

"Ow!"

"Says the guy who was near fire and could've gotten mauled by a Pantherian if he wasn't careful."

"I won, didn't I?"

Jim rolled his eyes, finishing up his treatment on Xross' back.

"Next time, just leave the bots with me and I'll patch everything when you get back, okay?"

Xross sighed, shaking his head.

"Alright, alright, fair enough. I know how much you value your babies."

"Yup and done." Jim put his tools away, dusting off his hands.

Xross sat up, quickly slipping his shirt, chest armor and cloak back on.

"Thank you."

"Anytime. Now, you better rest for the day and give those claw marks time to heal."

"Mew!"

Abyss climbed up into Xross' lap, purring loudly.

"And Abyss here is gonna make sure of that."

Xross chuckled, scratching the cat behind his ears.

"Oh, yeah. No on dares defy the cat on lap rule. Besides, a rest sounds great right now. I love helping people as Leonideas but right now, I just wanna be Xross and relax for a bit."

"Sounds good to me." Jim sat down next to him. "We can kick more Ecliptic Claw butts another day."

"Exactly."

They looked over to Laika, seeing she was busy at work, her and Kiwi dancing a bit as they worked around the cookpot.

"Hey, Lai Lai, how long till we feast?" Xross asked.

"Gonna need another hour." She kept her eyes on the pot. "Gotta cook the fish just right to get all the juices and such. It's gonna be good." Her mouth watered. "I haven't had this in years and I hope I can make it just as good as Mama does."

"I'm sure you will." Jim smiled. "If you need any help don't be afraid to ask."

"Thanks but I got this." Laika giggled. "You two relax."

"Very well."

"If you insist."

The three sat in silence. Well, mostly silence, save Laika's humming of Martian songs and Kiwi chirping along with her and Abyss' purring. Xross and Jim got lost in looking up at the sky, counting stars as they started to appear.

"I'm at 299, you?" Xross asked.

"500." Jim smirked. "501… 502…"

"Oh shut it."

Xross focused on trying to count faster, tuning everything else out. His concentration broke however as he saw a light streak across the sky. His eyes widened as he saw it increase in size, the streak making its way down the sky.

"You seeing this?" Xross asked.

"I am." Jim got up.

Abyss hopped out of Xross' lap as he stood up as well. Laika looked to the sky, her eyes wide with wonder.

"A shooting star?" she asked.

"Maybe?" Jim narrowed his eyes. "It's still going too."

The streak soon came to the horizon line, its size indicating it was close to their location. There was a loud boom and shaking as it hit the ground, a flash of light in the distance.

"I… don't think that was a comet." Xross looked upward, noting two other streaks of light in the sky. Spaceship streaks. "... I gotta check it out."

Xross dug into his backpack, pulling out what looked like a headset with lion ears on it. He slipped it on, tapping a button as his lion helmet appeared over his head and face. Without another word, he bolted towards the crash sight.

"H-Hey! Xross!" Jim yelled, chasing after him. "Wait for me!"

Laika stayed where she was, Kiwi and Abyss standing by her sides. She shook her head, focusing on the cookpot again.

"And thus another night for this rag tag team..."

[shadows-bitty-fun]

The day I was ‘adopted’

The story of how my first Lamia bitty came into my care! The Chain Bittybones are from @vex-bittys you can read more on them there! Also if you read this Vex, I hope you like it! ^^ (I’m nervous posting this)

WARNING: Mention of self-harm

It had been a normal day, spending it sewing articles of clothings that had been ordered by customers, sending off finished and approved pieces and feeding my cat who’d been meowing loudly for a snack that he usually didn’t get - his diet usually consisted of dry-food and some small bits of what I would eat, but once in a while I allowed him to have a small package of wet-food. Something he dearly enjoyed.

Finding a moment to take a break, I decided to go out to the small garden I had and tend to the few plants I had out here. I didn’t have many and the ones I had could for the most part take care of themselves, but they were important to me for various reasons.

I was just pulling out some weeds when I felt a strange sensation in my chest. What was this? I’d never experienced this before, but it wasn’t causing any alarm for me. It was almost like… A potential for something I didn’t really realize I wanted. But what?

My silent questions were answered when a skull peaked out of a bush near me and the feeling grew stronger. Who was this? I blinked at them, a questioning look on my face… At least I hoped so. I’d been told more than once that I had very little when it came to facial expressions - a side-effect of my autism.

The skeleton came out of the bush and my eyes widened. They were a lamia! I’d heard that these creatures lived around the area, even heard of a adoption center that was somewhere in the town, but I never guessed I’d be seeing one! My house was a bit off from everyone else so I could have my privacy, as I enjoy the natural ‘quiet’ that not living directly in a city gives off.

I slowly pull the work gloves off that rested over my more decorative ones that reach my elbows as I look the creature over. It’s clear they haven’t had a easy life; their long tail - black and orange with white patches - showed lines that I quickly concluded had to be scars from different things, they had a jacket on where some of the thread had given up thus leaving bits of the jacket open and even on their face was three thin lines in the bone: claw marks from something having attacked them.

That is when I noticed the glow. It was a dim, warm glow under the lamia’s jacket that almost seemed to pulse. And once I focused on it, I realized it was pulsing in synch with the feeling in my chest.

I looked at the lamia’s face when they shifted a bit before holding a hand over the glow, looking at me with a hopeful but slightly worried look.

“home?”

I was a bit surprised that he spoke as clear as he did, but I didn’t let that hinder me as I tilted my head a bit.

“Uh… Home? Are you lost or something?” I tried, not really sure what he - the voice was clearly male - was asking.

He shook his head slightly, his expression relaxing a bit more into a grin.

“no… home here? with you?”

Well, wasn’t that something else… Was he really asking what I thought he was? Because of my constantly worrying mind I needed to be clear if that really was what he wanted.

“Are you… Asking to have a home here? With me?” I asked softly.

The huge smile on his face as he nodded was just too cute. He was looking even more hopeful now. Oh dear…

“Well… I’m not sure how well you’ll find this place and… I’m not really sure why you’re asking me about this…”

The lamia frowned at that, looking thoughtful for a moment before looking towards my house. The door was open - my cat was a indoor one, so he was in my bedroom at the moment while I let in some fresh air - and from where the both of us were my computer was visible. I was updating a game I liked to play once in a while. Looking back to me, he gave me a questioning look and pointed to the computer.

All right, that was a question I could figure out without words and nodded, standing up as the two of us headed into the room. I noticed that while he wasn’t as tall as me when moving, he was clearly way longer than I was tall. I really wanted to learn more about him now.

It didn’t take long before he found what he was looking for: it was a page for a bitty adoption center - the one for lamia bitties that I remembered about when I saw him - and there was information on several different ones. Including one that looked a lot like the one next to me, just not with the white spots.

“So… You’re a Chain lamia, the feeling in my chest is a bond that wants to happen… And you’re asking me if I’m okay with it and if I’d let you into my home?” I need to have this all clear before saying anything else, looking to the Chain next to me.

He nods shyly and I can’t help but notice he’s looking at the image on the page. It’s on the Chain info page still, the image of a Chain holding over his chest where a similar glow is visible. At first, I don’t get what is up before my eyes land on his tail once more and he curls a bit more in on himself.

Oh.

I smile to him and move from the chair in front of the computer to the ground, sitting on my knees and holding out a hand towards his tail where the scars are.

“May I?” I gently ask him, watching his surprised face as he gently nods.

I’m not that good at reading faces, but once I reach out my hand to run it over one of the many scars on the lamia’s body I make sure to keep a look on his face. The texture of the scar is so different from the smooth feeling of the scales right next to it, but like this I can tell a lot more about it…

“These marks… Tell a story.” I’m speaking softly as I say so, eyes focused on the lines even as I feel his eyes on me. “They’re a constant reminder that things in life doesn’t go as we expect it… Things happen out of our control and they end up leaving marks on us. Some visible, like these, others not as much, but just as damaging to us… At least, if we allow them to be so.”

I look to his face now with a smile, pulling down the decorative glove on one of my arms and a soft gasp escapes the lamia who’d been watching closely. There rests a few scars of my own, different in size and texture than the lines on his body, but there none the less.

“Some scars comes from things happening that makes you feel… Well, hopeless. But you can always choose two ways: either let the scars remind you of how weak you were and are… or see them as a reminder that despite the hardships you’ve faced, you’re here now…” I can’t help the humorless chuckle that escapes me. “Not that it’s easy to do the second thing… I should know…” I move to cover the scars once more, but a hand over the bigger of my scars stops me.

The Chain has leaned in, his eyes running over the scars in focus. They look like weird pale dots on my skin, the texture more rough on these patches. Then again, I would be surprised if my frantic scratching until I bled had made clean scars. Especially with my inability to leave the scabs alone.

After a bit the lamia looks to me and smiles, his hand moving to cover over the scars as he speaks up.

“... strong.”

I can’t keep the tears back that show up in my eyes at that, a smile on my face as a bit after, my face is hidden in the shoulder of the Chain as we’re holding onto each other closely.

I’d worry later about getting my new housemate settled in, for now, it felt like this moment was needed.

[noonachronicles]

A Little Red (Final)

Kim Hanbin (B.I.)/ Kim Jiwon (Bobby)/ Koo Junhoe (June) X Reader

Genre - Werewolf A/U

Word Count - 4.7K

Warnings - Violence.

A/N - I guess this is it. I hope that at almost 5k all the questions are finally answered. Finishing a series is always so bittersweet. I’m going to miss this one a lot. I’m grateful that it turned out the way it did, and I hope that everyone else is too!  

Moodboard by bae @memoiresofaneternaldreamer

It had only been a couple of days since you’d found out the truth, but it felt like years and you were becoming impatient for a resolution. Hours passed by like days and you spent every second in discomfort and fear. You and Jiwon were no closer to devising a plan as Junhoe made it nearly impossible. Never letting you stray too far away from him. Suddenly his actions, which you had believed before were out of protection and concern, you realized now were out of obsession and possession. You had become certain you’d never get another minute alone with Jiwon.

It was another day, just like many of the others the two of you had been spending recently. You sitting in the doorway of the blacksmiths shop, a bit of sewing in your lap and Junhoe working over the fire. Down the road you could see Jiwon headed back from the well, a yoke was stretched across his shoulders as he carried several buckets home. Elisa and Luka trailed at his feet.

The snow had mostly been cleared, melted away or been moved to the sides of the road so that people could get on with their days. Luka pounced happily in the patches of snow, and in your mind you could just hear Elisa chattering away. Your heart ached a little as you sat in your personal prison. Still watching you saw Jiwon nod towards you and say something. Elisa turned towards the shop with a happy smile and skipped her way over, a tiny wicker basket swinging in her hand.

“I’ll be right back.” you said pushing your sewing into the basket at your feet.

“Where are you going?” Junhoe asked cooley, looking over his shoulder at you.

“Just to the gate, I wanted to say hi to Elisa. Thank her for the berries from the other day.”

You watched as he turned a little more, when his eye caught sight of the little girl he seemed to relax. “Oh.”

You nearly skipped yourself as you made your way out of the shop and towards your neighbor. She waved happily at you as her furry companion wagged his tail excitedly at the sight of you.

“Good afternoon, sweetheart.” you said giving her a kiss on the top of her head. You knelt down in the dirt and ran your hands through the shepherd's thick coat. “How have you been?”

“Okay, I miss spending time together. I wish it were warmer so we could play outside, but mother makes me stay inside and read.”

“Reading is good for you! Don’t you like when I read to you?” you asked as Luka started to nuzzle into your hand for more pets.

“Yes, but that’s different.” she shrugged. “Did you find it?”

You furrowed your brow. “Find what?”

Elisa looked over at the shop and waved cheerfully, “Hello Junhoe!”

You looked back over your shoulder and saw Junhoe leaning against the doorway, he gave Elisa a small smile and wave before turning back inside.

“Luka likes his neck scratched.” Elisa said quietly. She watched you as you began to scratch around the dog’s neck.

You stayed quiet when you felt the string tied loosely around it. Moving your fingers along the string you found a piece of paper coiled tightly around the string and pulled it. As you looked down at the note Elisa went on and on about a book she’d been reading, just in case anyone was eavesdropping. And you knew that he was.

The well, tomorrow at dawn. Be careful of the full moon.

You looked up at Elisa, trying to think of where you could keep the note. She nodded down to her basket and you smiled gratefully before tucking it inside and pushing yourself up to your feet.

“I’d better get back to work. I think your mother is waiting on something from me.” you smiled, “Thank you… for coming to talk to me.”

Elisa gave you a small knowing smile and took off down the road. Reluctantly you made your way back to the shop, there was a little bit of light, a little bit of hope in your step as you thought about Jiwon’s note. Maybe he’d worked something out with Hanbin, a way to keep Junhoe busy after he transitioned back. Back in the shop you realized your stuff had been moved.

“Jun…” you said looking for your basket.

“I moved your things.” he admitted easily, “I don’t want you getting sick out in the cold all day.”

You nodded, “Oh, okay.”

The both of you were quiet for sometime. You did so much reflecting in your moments of silence. Mindlessly sewing together holes in work pants, made it easy for you to wander elsewhere in your head. It’s how you’d come to the realization that the picture Junhoe said was of you, by the lake, was your sister. It had to have been. He’d never spent time with you in the springtime, you’d never been by the lake with him.

“I love you. Don’t you love me?” You looked up from your lap to see his charming smile. A smile that now made your stomach churn.

“Of course.” You smiled weakly.

He turned back to the fire and you watched him closely. He was strong, his shoulders broad and muscular. You imagined he could have killed her like this, in his human form, but he didn’t. He couldn’t contain his anger towards her so her death had to be even more brutal. Your eyes widened as they passed over his back and saw the scar over his shoulder. It looked more fresh than any of the others. It would have been right where your blade had entered the white muzzled wolf. You didn’t understand how you could have been so blind before. He wasn’t the wolf with the brown muzzle, he was the one with the white. You hadn’t even stopped to consider that, head too overwhelmed with all the information you’d been receiving lately.

“Your heart is beating so fast.” Junhoe said without turning around this time.

“I guess that just what love does.” You looked down at your sewing, trying to calm your nerves. You’d forgotten that his senses would be heightened, that something like a heartbeat wouldn’t be terribly hard for him to concentrate on.

“You reek of fear. You have ever since you returned home the other night.” He sighed, “Fear and Jiwon. Is that love too?”

You stood up from your stool, maybe it wasn’t the smartest move, but you were afraid you couldn’t wait any longer, “Where did you get that scar on your shoulder?”

“You.” He said simply. His honesty stopped you in your tracks.

He knew you knew. Somehow his sense of absolute calm was more unnerving than if he’d started screaming at you. You made a dash towards the door but his hand was slamming it shut before you could get your hands around the handle.

“You thought you could outrun me, little lamb?” His lips were so close to your neck you could feel his breath seeping inside of you. “I don’t want to hurt you. I love you.”

“Then do-don’t hurt me.” You stuttered through sheer terror. His lips met your skin just briefly before he pulled away to look at you. His eyes were dark and emotionless as they looked back at you. You wondered if they were always that way and you’d just been blind.

His free arm wrapped around your waist. “Take a walk with me.”

“Where?”

“To the forest. We’re better when we’re away from this town. It’s poison for us. It’s making you hate me. I can feel it. It did the same thing to your sister.” He sniffed your hair, sucking in a deep breath of it. A blanket of shivers covered your body.

“Yes, of course.” You complied. “We should do that.”

“Put on your cloak while I shut down the shop. If you try to run I’ll have to break your legs.” He said nonchalantly. “But please, remember, I would rather not.”

Once the two of you were outside you thought he’d take the path to the tree but he didn’t. His arm wrapped tight around your waist, the two of walked you in the opposite direction. Down the road and passed the well. He led you through a part of the forest with no visible path. It wasn’t long before you realized you had no idea which direction was which and that you’d not be able to make it back to the village without help. Either Junhoe’s or, hopefully, someone else’s.

“We’re not going to the tree?” You asked quietly as he dragged you along.

“No, that’s the first place they’ll look for us.”

“Are you going to kill me?” You sniffled.

“Kill you? Little lamb, never. I love you. You love me.” He said finally stopping. He turned your face towards his. He frowned at the fear written all over it, “You will love me again, like you did before…once we’re our own pack. I’ll be the alpha and you’ll need me.”

“A pack?” You asked as a chill passed over you. “What do you- what do you mean?”

“Tonight’s the full moon.” He smiled happily, “if you’re bitten or scratched by a werewolf on a full moon you turn. Or you’re supposed to. If Hanbin hadn’t healed your last wound with his wolfsbane concoction you would have already transitioned.”

“Oh my god.” You whispered behind a shaking palm.

“That’s why I attacked you that night, little lamb, not to hurt you. I wanted to sire you, to strengthen our bond. You can still feel me on the full moon can’t you?” He asked with some sick sense of hope. “Even though they stopped the transition, I still flow through you.”

You thought about the searing pain in your shoulder upon his arrival the last full moon.

“Jiwon…” you muttered to yourself, he’d been your protector. Hanbin was the the commanding white wolf, the leader, which meant Jiwon had been the one to sit outside your door like a centurion. You could see the flame in Junhoe’s eyes as soon as the other man's name left your lips. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why not?!” He hissed. Tightening his grip around your arm he pulled you forward angrily. “Hanbin gets to be leader, Hanbin gets Louisa. Jiwon steals Kiha from me, he almost stole you. I had to fake a letter from him for Kiha to even speak to me alone again. Imagine how that made me feel. When she saw me she acted like I was a true monster. You, you’re my chance for happiness. You’re my win.”

You stumbled along beside him as the forest grew darker. You stayed quiet, feeling too sick for any more of his confessions. Soon the sun was no longer visible through the dense trees. You wondered when he would turn. If it was the full moon you didn’t imagine you had long. Your heartbeat quickened, unable to help the fear coursing through you that you may die this night.

Junhoe would have to bite you or scratch you again but he had no restraint. Last time nearly killed you, surely the way his emotions were driving him this time would certainly mean death.

“I’m scared, Jun.” You confessed, hoping that part of him truly cared for you and wanting to try and play off of that emotion.

He stopped in his tracks. The two of you stood in an unfamiliar clearing. An endless army of trees surrounded you. The wind was brisque, there were patches of snow all over, but beneath your feet the ground was soft and wet. “Of what, of me?”

“A little. You’re too strong, Jun. What if it goes wrong? Let’s just wait, okay?” As you kept talking you realized he was softening. If you played this game well enough, you might actually make it back home. “Now that I know your plan, we can talk about it. We can make sure that we do it so I’m safe, that you’re in control.”

He was nodding subconsciously, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I know. I know that now, Jun. I believe you.” you said convincingly enough. “Take me home. It’s going to be too late soon. It’s not safe with the moon tonight.”

Junhoe looked up, you wondered if he could really see anything worthwhile through the thick of the trees. He looked back down at you with a small shrug. “It’s already too late, little lamb.”

“What?” you gasped.

“We’ll never make it back in time. I only have minutes.” He looked at your surroundings for a moment before clutching your hand. He dragged you forward several yards. There were large boulders piled up and covered in moss and snow. He released your hand for a moment, circling the large rocks. “Here. Hide here.”

You went around the pile to where his voice was and saw that there was an opening that you’d fit through. “What will you do?”

“I’ll run.” he said kissing your forehead and cheeks. “I can’t promise I won’t come back to try and find you. So stay tucked in here. Otherwise I’ll catch your scent and...I want you, little lamb. I want you bad. You’re mine now and I’ll always want you. Stay hidden. It’ll be cold, but you’ll be safe.”

“Okay,” You gulped as you nodded in understanding.

You backed yourself into the crevice as far as you could go. There were actually a few good feet between you and the opening. Though your view of the outside was only a sliver. You heard Junhoe tell you once more to stay safe, that he loved you, before you heard the muted sounds of his departure.

In the small crevice you felt so cramped and uncomfortable. A little time had passed before you felt the dull burn from the scar on your back. He’d transitioned. The clearing outside your hiding place stayed quiet and still. You hoped for a while that he wouldn’t come back. After some time your teeth began to chatter with cold and your legs and back ached from being crouched so awkwardly you.

You thought perhaps that it would be okay for you to just stretch your limbs, maybe the movement would even warm you a bit. Once the idea had entered your mind you waited just a few minutes before inching towards the entrance. The clearing the two of you had been standing in before was still empty. There was nothing around you but trees and you could only hear the sounds of night birds and insects. Your heart was pounding, but you couldn’t help but think that this could be your one chance.

Stepping out completely into the clearing you had a choice to make. You weren’t entirely sure it was the right decision but you turned to your right and started to run as fast as you could. There was nothing but the sound of twigs snapping beneath your feet and the pounding of your heart in your ears. You ran and you ran until pain shot up your shins and your thighs trembled and ached for rest.

Once you felt like you’d gone far enough you went even further. Hoping and praying that you’d see the light of the village before you. Suddenly an unexpected pain shot through your scar. The toe of your boot clipped a trunk you’d been stepping over and you flew forward, slamming down on your elbows with a thud.

You’d lost all the air in your lungs in the fall and gasped several times, hoping to get the strength to pull yourself back up. As your breathing steadied you stayed down on the ground and listened. It was quiet, but something was wrong. Before where quiet had meant night birds and crickets, now it meant nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Your lips trembled, he was near. The forest was silent because he was near. Your scar burned because he was near. You tried to keep your breathing silent and steady. Looking around you tried to find a place to hide. About four yards away there was a huge hollowed tree trunk that had fallen against another tree. You knew if you could get to it, you’d be well hidden.

As you pushed yourself up into crouched position you heard the snap of a branch behind you. You turned your head over your shoulder to see him there a few yards away, in his wolf form. His yellow eyes narrowed on you and his pink tongue swiped along his chops.

I can make it. You thought to yourself. I can do this.

You counted to three and then burst out of your crouched position and began to run. You were still a yard away when you felt the heat of his breath on the backs of your legs. You looked up to see how far away you were still when the brown muzzled wolf appeared. Jiwon. The furry figure had jumped over the fallen trunk and over your sprinting form landing on top of Junhoe.

There was an immediate yelp from the junior of the two. You kept running until you reached the hollowed log before turning back. They were standing apart from each other. Jiwon placed himself between you and Junhoe. It was dark, but when Junhoe shook out his coat you could see the dark splatter against the pile of snow that was near him. You felt both bad, and relief, knowing Jiwon must have gotten him good if it was enough to make him bleed like that.

Junhoe let out a howl that sounded more like a roar, even after he’d stopped you could hear it echo through the trees around you. Jiwon dug his front paws into the dirt before him and released a snarl that vibrated the ground beneath you. Only seconds passed but it felt like forever until Junhoe, unable to stand the distance between you, made his attack.

What you saw before you was difficult to decipher. It was a clash of fur with flashes of teeth and glassy eyes. Little yelps escaped one or the other as well as growls and snarls. What was worse was the hard snapping of jaws. Teeth grinding on teeth, the tearing of skin. You shook like a leaf under the trunk as they battled, unable to tell who was doing better, unable to even tell who was who at this point.

Then the most pained yelp yet tore through the trees. You looked up and saw a large flurry of fur being flung through the air and slamming against the trunk of a large tree. The wolf fell limp in a pile of snow at the base of the tree with a small whimper. You watched wide eyed as the large wolf transitioned back into its human form. It was Jiwon. When you looked back at Junhoe his eyes were wild, narrowed on Jiwon. His prey was weakened but he was prepared for the kill. Not really knowing what you were doing you sprinted out into the cleaning.

“Leave him, Junhoe!” You screamed, grabbing his attention. His yellow eyes locked onto your figure. “Please.”

His white teeth were smeared with dark red blood. The fur around his mouth matted and dripping. Your heart crashed against your ribcage as he stepped towards you and away from Jiwon. He stood in front of you, his panting blowing the hair from your face. The scar on your back throbbed with a searing pain. Your whole body shook in fear, tears streamed down your cheeks.

“I don’t want to die.” You whispered.

You’d almost squeezed your eyes shut when you saw a flash of white through the trees. A gasp had barely passed your lips when Junhoe turned to see what had interested you.

Everything from there had started to happen in slow motion. A blur of white fur plowing through the trees, clipping Junhoe’s hind legs. For a second you saw his yellow eyes grow large with fear. Then, as his body was being ripped away from you, he reached out his front paw and grazed your hip, knocking you to the ground. He tumbled onto the cold dirt a few yards away, Hanbin’s white wolf form standing above him.

Junhoe scrambled onto all fours. He had a choice. He could cower now in defeat before his alpha or he could fight. Hanbin snarled, you could almost imagine how angry he would look in his human form. It looked for a moment like Junhoe would concede, then he looked at you and his confidence grew. He emitted a low growl, flashing his still bloodstained teeth.

Hanbin eyed you for a moment and then Jiwon. Junhoe lunged forward to attack his senior. Hanbin deflected the attack and you watched as he maneuvered Junhoe away from you and Jiwon. Before you or Junhoe realized what was happening you could barely see the brawling pair. He’d given you the chance to go to Jiwon.

Naked and bleeding, Jiwon was curled up on a pile of snow. It was melting beneath him quickly. He wasn’t shivering from cold, but he was definitely in pain.

“Let me see.” You said crouching at his side. He shook his head, pressing both hands against the weeping wound on his side. “Don’t be this way, Jiwon. Show me.”

He winced and removed a hand, “It’s not good. It’s too deep.”

He wasn’t wrong. You had to cover your mouth with your hand to hide your gag. There was a huge chunk removed. Flesh and muscle torn viciously and covered in blood which oozed from him. You untied the cloak from your neck and pressed it into the wound to slow some of the blood loss.

“Hanbin will be back soon.” You assured him, “Just talk to me okay? Until he gets back. Try not to think about the pain.”

Jiwon nodded, “okay.”

“It was you all along, I know now.” You whispered by his side. “You were the one protecting me. You were the wolf with the brown muzzle.”

“I’d do anything for you.” He said, clearly in pain.

“How could you just sacrifice yourself for me?” You asked, “Look at you now, all of this for me? I’d don’t understand. I’m no one”

“It’s okay.” He said placing his hand over yours, “l…”

“It’s not. It’s not okay.” you said almost angrily. “Everything Junhoe told me...was a lie and I just believed him. You must hate me.”

Jiwon laughed lightly, “I don’t. It’s not your fault.”

“What I don’t understand is why you took me to him. In the snowstorm…you saved me. Why didn’t you just take me home then?”

“I’d hoped that he’d keep you safe. I never expected that he’d confess everything. That he’d lie about everything.”

“I’m so sorry.” You sputtered suddenly overwhelmed with tears as your hands continued to put pressure on his wound.

“This is fine.” Jiwon said quietly moving his hand to run it over your cheek. “I will gladly perish knowing that my sacrifice kept you safe.”

“Don’t say that.” You whimpered. “We can fix you, can’t we? Hanbin will fix you like he fixed me. I was such a fool. Please, don’t let this be goodbye.”

“Will you kiss me?” He asked taking in your face with every second he had left, “just once. I’ve wanted to know what it would be like for so long now. This could be my last chance.”

“If you wanted to, why didn’t you kiss me before...before he did?”

Jiwon gave you a small smile, “I guess I was a fool too.”

You lowered your lips to his and pressed them gently together. The warmth of him spread through your veins, you felt a joy flow through you that you’d never felt before. Your heart broke at the thought that you might never get that joy again. Then you tasted the copper on your lips.

Opening your eyes you saw the stream of fresh blood drip from his mouth. He was getting worse and you couldn’t see or hear Hanbin and Junhoe. You wished Hanbin would come back soon, you feared it would be Junhoe that you saw instead. Looking back down after surveying the empty forest you saw Jiwons eyes drifting closed.

“Stay awake!” You pleaded. “If you open your eyes I’ll give you another kiss.”

He chuckled lightly before wincing as he opened an eye for you. “I love you.”

You knew right then that in your whole life you’d never hear those words spoken more genuinely by anyone else.

“So live.” You whispered, kissing his cheek, his forehead, his nose. “I’ll let you cut all the wood and carry all the water, and I’ll never complain.”

“Oh, but you’ll complain.” He smiled and though his eyes were closed they showed a smile as well. “You always do.”

“I will.” You admitted, “I’ll complain every time if you want.”

“Dawn is here.” He said so quietly you almost didn’t hear it. You watched his nostrils flare slightly and he asked, eyes still closed, “I can’t tell, which one is it?”

You could hear the cracking of fallen branches before you looked up. The man who returned was too far away. It looked like it could be either Hanbin or Junhoe. The forest now too dark to determine who was who if you had tell from beyond your outreached hand. So you waited, watching as the silhouette of the man came closer and closer with every step.

“Y/n, are you okay?” The voice asked, still shaded by darkness.

“Hanbin.” You said with such relief. “Jiwon, he needs your help.”

“Are you okay?” He asked finally beside the pair of you.

“I’m fine! Hanbin, please!” You begged, “Just save him. He’s really hurt.”

Hanbin used your cloak to better wrap Jiwon’s wound before picking up his brother in his arms. Your adrenaline was too high for you to acknowledge the cold as he led you out of the forest. As you walked you kept your eyes on his shoulders and back, trying to avoid looking at his complete nakedness. He had several deep cuts along his neck and arms, but the stoic way he kept moving through the trees made it look like he didn’t feel a single ounce of pain. You didn’t ask about Junhoe, you didn’t have to. The pain from your scar had faded completely some time ago, you knew he was gone, and you weren’t sure you wanted to know the how of it.

You stayed with Jiwon as Hanbin helped to heal him. It was a nasty process but you did everything you could to help. Often that meant getting Hanbin supplies but mostly it meant sitting at Jiwon’s side and holding his hand. Hanbin assured you Jiwon would be fine as werewolves had accelerated healing. It was only a couple of days before the massive gash in his side had closed into a thin scar. You wished you’d had that ability when you’d been healing from your wound.

After a few days, once Jiwon was awake, you felt comfortable going home to clean up and rest. Something Hanbin had been unable to talk you into, barely getting you to eat much as you waited through Jiwon’s recovery. You stripped yourself of the clothes you’d been in for too long, wanting to burn them more than anything.

There was something pleasurable about watching the dirt and blood get rinsed off of your skin as you dragged a wet, warm rag over your body. Your arms and legs had taken the brunt of the mess, you’d needed two bowls of fresh warm water for those alone. The rag moved easily over your chest and breasts and abdomen. Your forehead creased at a bit of dirt at your hip, not remembering how it could have gotten there. Once the dirt was rinsed you noticed a light pink scar across your skin, there were plenty of those over your arms and legs from when you’d been running through the forest so you thought nothing of it. Of everything that had happened you could hardly concern yourself with a little scar. Hanbin was safe, Jiwon was safe, you were safe. It was probably nothing more than a scratch from a tree branch...

[that-girl-at-the-corner]

The Grand Gala

Chapter 4 of “The Royal Engagement” Previous Chapter

***

Previously:

“Good night, Princess. I’ll be looking forward for a dance with you tomorrow evening.” He said with a grin.

She scoffed before she ran her hand to the lengths of her hair, flipping it to the side. “As if, Yukihira.”

***

Contrary to what was expected—or at least what he expected—Prince Soma spent more time than usual in selecting his outfit for the night.

He have been standing in front of his closet for the past fifteen minutes, trying to figure out an appropriate attire for the upcoming party.He grabbed two coats of the same color, holding it up in front of him and trying to figure out what was different from the other.

He was never one of those who stressed over their clothes. His casual outfits were usually the first thing that he can grab from his closet. In fact, in these kinds of occasions he would usually let his mother or his maids choose his formal attire. And truthfully, he didn’t even know the distinction between those formal attires that he wore on different occasions because more often than not, it felt like he was just wearing the same blue garb over and over again. Their seamstress once told him that it was all on the details, but honestly, how could he tell? It’s not like everyone would inspect every little detail of his outfit much less something as trivial as an embroidery.

So while he didn’t usually care about what he wore, this time it was different. This time he wasn’t the one being celebrated. He wasn’t the center of the celebration. He just couldn’t get away by wearing the same-styled outfit that has their kingdom’s color. This time, he was on an unfamiliar territory and he needed to make a great first impression.Everyone in attendance would know one another—or at least must have known of each other if they were all allied to Totsuki. He would be the stranger among the crowd and just like the King had suggested the previous night, he must outdo them all—not just for himself (well, partly) but also for the pride of the kingdom where he came from.

“Why don’t we tailor you a new one? Totsuki have the best seamstresses—well, our servants are always the best among the best—but anyways, seriously, it would be done in no time.”

This was what Princess Alice had said the previous night but Soma doubted that they could finish tailoring up a new coat for him in time for tonight’s ball. Instead, he’ll call a servant and have them alter one of his formal outfit.

He carefully searched his wardrobe for something that could easily be altered. He wouldn’t want to trouble the seamstress with this added chore and he figured that they couldn’t do much with the little time that they had before the ball. In the end, he chose black pants paired with cream colored suit with dark blue lapels.

Carrying his clothes, Prince Soma went outside of his room with the intention of following (partly) Princess Alice’s advice. His feet brought him downstairs where he had to dodge several servants carrying flowers and garlands from one place to the other. He stopped at the foot of the stairs and observed the chaos that was ensuing.

“Now this is as bad as a stampede,” he muttered to himself. He was probably exaggerating but that was how it looked like at the moment. And to think that he was not even at the ballroom. He couldn’t stop but whistle in amazement as his eyes roamed the floor.

Windows were being opened, curtains were being replaced, every nook was being dusted and not a single corner was left unattended. There were servants polishing the doorknob, the portrait frames and the handrails. Some were carrying a tower of salad plates and others were pushing tables towards the ballroom. Others were pulling clothes rack full of gowns and another one filled with tail coats of different colors. Everyone seemed to have their hands full and Soma was starting to doubt if there was even a seamstress available to patch up his garb.

He passed over the servants carrying the newly washed red carpet and they gladly pointed him towards the direction of the Tailoring Chamber.

When he arrived, he debated on whether or not he should knock. He couldn’t risk bumping into an unassuming maid-servant inside so he rapped his knuckles at the door three times and waited a moment before going inside.

He was expecting the same kind of chaos like what was happening outside but he was a little disappointed to see that it was the complete opposite. The room was busy yet quiet and for a moment Soma started to question if he was still in the same building. The only thing that can be heard was the hum of the sewing machine and the quiet murmurs of the tailors inside the room.

A servant girl was approaching carrying rolls of fabric and Soma almost felt guilty at stopping her path and getting her attention.

“Oh, Prince Soma!” the girl exclaimed, surprise evident on her face at seeing the prince inside the room. “Good morning, Your Highness. How may I help you?” She asked once she got over her initial shock.

“I was hoping that you can do something about this,” Soma said, lifting the pair that he had brought with him.

The servant girl dumped the fabrics at a nearby table and took the garments from the prince’s hand.

“On what occasion do you need this for?” the girl asked as she extended her arms and examined the suit.

Soma lifted a hand and scratched the back of his neck. “I’m wearing it tonight. I was hoping that one of you could alter it or something, I don’t know. Put a bead maybe?”

The girl put down the suit and gave him a confused look, her eyebrows scrunched together. “I don’t understand. You didn’t like the outfit that we’ve prepared for you?”

Now it was Soma’s turn to be confused.

“What outfit?” he asked because as far as he knew, no one has given him any instruction on what to wear. If they did then it would’ve saved him the time he spent trying to find the difference between a blue coat and another blue coat.

“We made you an outfit for the Grand Gala.” She said as she re-collected the rolls of fabrics from the table. She started distributing them around the room and Soma was left with no other choice but to follow at her heels.

“It was mostly done but we still need your measurements for the necessary adjustments. What we’ve used were only rough estimations.” When Soma didn’t reply, the girl turned. “You didn’t know?”

“Nope.This is the first time that I am hearing about this.” Soma replied with a shrug.

“Our deepest apologies, Your Highness.” She hastily said as she bowed down her head.

“No, no. It’s okay. At least I got to wear something new.” He reassured with a chuckle. “Now where is it so I could try it on?”

***

After leaving the Tailoring Chamber, Soma was at a loss for what to do. He couldn’t just intrude in the kitchen like usual. The halls were crowded. He couldn’t chat with one of the guards since the security was being tightened.

He heaved a sigh. It seemed like a start of a boring day for the prince. He pocketed his hands and started walking, proceeding to wherever his feet may take him.He didn’t notice that he was almost outside the castle until he heard the gallops of horses of the guards on patrol.

Maybe I could go around town. He thought and his mouth curved upward. He turned around and fastened his pace now that he has a destination in mind. He figured that he can avoid all that bizarre activities going on inside if he went around the castle so that’s what he did. He was turning at the last corner towards the stables when he ran over Satoshi Isshiki who seemed to have just came back from his errands.

“Prince Soma. What a great timing.” The butler said as he steadied the prince. Before Soma can reply, Satoshi thrust a roll of parchment towards the prince’s hand.

“What is this?” Soma asked.

Satoshi only smiled, his eyes almost disappearing between his eyelids. “Your competitions.” He said before patting Soma’s back and leaving the prince standing.

Soma stared at the parchment for a moment before he decided to pull the ribbon holding it all together. He unfolded the paper and he couldn’t help but shake his head in amusement as he scanned its contents.

1.      Prince Zen Sasaki of the Southern Iles

2.      Prince Lout Jongerson of Berkland

3.      Prince Ethan Nakamura of the Northern Borders

And the list goes on. He didn’t fail to notice that only the list of the princes invited were given to him.

“That Isshiki,” he muttered as he once again rerouted towards the palace. “He never failed to give me something to do.”

***

The music started just as the carriages arrived one after the other. Prince and princesses with their escorts poured into the castle and it wasn’t long before the ballroom was packed with royals.

Soma quietly sipped his wine as he observed his surroundings. He just came back at the banquet table after socializing with the others.

The moment he stepped downstairs after beings announced by the herald, he was circled by a couple of curious royals. He was pulled from one conversation to another, being bombarded by questions left and right. He used this as a chance to introduce himself, his kingdom and vice versa. He made sure that he left an impression that he wasn’t just some nobody prince latching to a strong ally for his personal gain.

And he made an impression alright.

The princesses he have met have shown him interests, gladly engaging him in small talks that mostly took his time. The princes on the other hand gave him wary looks and suspicious glance, gauging if he was a threat or someone to be trusted. He tried to give them a smile—every time—which he hoped was more innocent than mischievous.

But on every conversation, he was always asked with the same question: on whether or not he was here to compete for the Totsuki’s princess’ hand. With this also came the realization that most of the attendees were either suitors, or the one looking for suitors. He would always answer without giving anything away, sometimes with a shrug and oftentimes a challenging smirk thrown over the other princes’ way—especially toward those he didn’t like.

Huh. Those arrogant bunch.

“Enjoying the party?” a voice asked and he turned to see Princess Alice dragging his previous dance partner behind.

“Very,” he replied raising his wine glass. “Though I’m currently in hiding.”

“Nonsense. Come on, have a dance with me.” Before he can refuse, Alice took his wine glass and passed it towards his partner. “Oh, and by the way. Prince Soma, this is Prince Ryo. Ryo, Prince Soma. Now, I expect you two to get along okay?” She said, hastily introducing the two princes and then dragging Soma to the dance floor.

“Is it really okay leaving him like that?” he asked once they were at the center.

“Oh, he’d be alright. Now tell me, have you asked her to dance yet?” She asked and they both know who she was talking about.

“If you hadn’t noticed, I’ve been busy.” Soma replied, looking apologetic.

“So I’m your first dance?”

“Apparently.”

The both of them looked over the princess in question. She was engaged in a conversation with Prince Shoji, the second in line for the Tuven kingdom. Though he could tell that it was hardly a conversation at all. Princess Erina was facing the dance floor, a wine glass in hand, while the other prince was at her side trying to draw her attention. But other than a hum or a short reply, the blonde princess kept her eyes forward. Soma saw how Prince Shoji’s shoulder sag before he straightened and bowed to the princess, bidding his goodbye. Princess Erina bowed in return and when she returned her gaze to the dance floor, Soma caught her eye. He raised an eyebrow at the princess and in return, she rolled her eyes and strolled towards the banquet.

Soma gave a chuckle. “That was the sixth one, I think.” He said.

“What do you mean?” Alice asked before Soma twirled her in place and catching her once again.

“It was the sixth prince that she rejected.” He explained. He turned to Alice and gave her a smirk. “Your cousin is such a heartbreaker.”

“Someone is paying attention.” Alice singsonged.

To this, Soma gave a laugh. “Oh, please.” He said, neither denying nor agreeing to Alice.

They finished one song before Princess Alice decided that she needed rest. Prince Ryo was standing to the same place where they left him, looking bored and uninterested with his surroundings. His all-black get up added to his vibe. Before they reached him, the white haired princess nudged Soma’s side and then pointed her cousin with a small frown adorning her face. Soma escorted her to Ryo’s side, passing her hand to the other prince, before turning towards the direction Alice was pointing.

The first thing that caught his attention when he looked over was the black aura that seemed to be emanating from the blonde princess. Whatever her companion was saying—well, it was obvious that she didn’t like it. Her back was stiff, her perfectly mastered neutral expression was cracking and her mouth was starting to curve down.

“Prince Eizan Etsuyaof Destopia.” He muttered, referring to the prince with rectangular glasses and swept-back hair that was currently the source of Princess Erina’s bad mood. He heard an annoyed huff from his sided and it seemed that this guy managed to annoy not one but two Nakiri princess.

“I hate that guy.” Princess Alice spat bitterly. “Why did Satoshi invited him?”

Soma didn’t reply and instead continued to observe the interaction between the two. Prince Eizan seemed to be oblivious to all the hate and glares he was receiving. That, or he was just persistent. Princess Erina was flat out ignoring him but that didn’t deter the guy. He moved towards Erina’s line of sight and continued talking as if nothing was amiss.

A servant was approaching them carrying a tray of empty wine glass and ice bucket containing red wine. Princess Erina was about to place her own glass on the tray when Prince Eizan suddenly took the wine glass from her hold and put it in the tray himself.

Princess Erina huffed and when she was about to turn away from the prince, Eizan grabbed her hand and slowly brought it to his lips.

Soma saw how Erina’s eyes turned into slits and he felt how his own eyes twitched. With purposeful strides, he marched towards their direction with his hands on his pockets. Neither one saw him coming which works in his favor when he snatched Erina’s hand from Eizan’s grasp.

“May I cut in?” He asked nonchalantly as he stepped between the two.“I believe the princess has promised me a dance.” He added giving Eizan a smile as if he didn’t just intrude on their conversation.

“I certainly—” Erina started but stopped when Soma looked at her with a raised eyebrow. She looked at him and then at the other prince—probably weighing her options. She narrowed her eyes as she returned her gaze to the red-head and Soma smirked knowing that he won.

“I certainly did.” She said slowly then turned to the four-eyed prince. “If you’ll excuse us, Prince Eizan.” She said curtly.

“It’s okay. It couldn’t be helped.” Prince four-eyes replied all the while giving Soma a look that says it was definitely not okay.He wasn’t put off with the way Eizan was eying him murderously behind his spectacles. The other prince was seething and Soma treated it as a little victory.

“Don’t I at least get a thank you?” Soma teased once they were positioned on the dance floor waiting for the current music to fade and for another melody to begin.

“Please. I didn’t need your help.” Erina replied as she let Soma clasp her right hand and let her other hand rest on his shoulder.

“It didn’t look that way to me.”

“I had it under control.”

“Sure you do. You look like you were going to murder that prince before I interfered.”

“Oh shut up.”

Soma just laughed and Erina pinched his shoulder in return. This made him flinch which also made Erina smirk.

They glided on the dance floor as the music progressed. Soma took the lead in guiding her when, how and which way to turn. Their feet synched with the beat of the music and each step was executed perfectly and gracefully. They danced effortlessly and soon all eyes were trained on them. It was probably because of Princess Erina’s gown. She was dressed in a glittering ball gown in gradient blue, dark blue on the top which gets lighter and lighter on the waist down. It didn’t help that it looks like a starry night sky whenever she spins.

“They can’t get their eyes off of you.” Soma whispered conspiratorially after another twirl. “You do look beautiful tonight.”

“I don’t need you to tell me that.” Erina said as she turned away with a blush faintly visible on her face. “Though I had to admit, you cleaned up well yourself.” She said in a tone that told him he should be thankful to hear those words coming from her. Soma just chuckled.

“Huh. Well this is surprising.” She commented after a while. She wasn’t looking at him so Soma didn’t know what she was talking about. “Who knew you can attract a few admirers?” Erina said with a raised eyebrow as she returned her gaze at him.

Soma looked around and saw a couple of princesses he met earlier waving at him. He smiled in return before looking back at the blonde princess. He wouldn’t really call them admirers but, well…

“Couldn’t blame them. Who could resist these charms?” He was mostly teasing but it didn’t stop him from flashing her a boyish grin, the one that her mother had always said would make any girl swoon.

“Such arrogance.” Erina said as she rolled her eyes.

“I’m a prince. What did you expect?”

What he didn’t expect was a laugh that bubbled out of her mouth. It ended as soon as it came, or rather, as soon as Erina realized what came out of her mouth.

“Did you just laugh?” Soma asked in disbelief.

Erina stared at him in amusement. “I believe I just cried.”

“Very funny. But I still made you laugh though.” Soma stated triumphantly.

“Don’t get used to it.”

He wasn’t. But it sure felt good hearing that sound. He should make her laugh more often. He mentally added it to the list of things he wanted her to do more often.

***

It went better than he expected, if he do say so himself. The number of songs that they danced to speaks volume. They danced through four songs, though the fact that they spoke nothing but the negative aspects of her suitors wasn’t exactly productive.

It was mostly Erina complaining, or rather, stating her critical judgment on why they were not suited for her. How Prince Zen was such a wimp he would be useless if ever war broke out. How Prince Lout was overly confident and self-centered she wouldn’t expect him to prioritize his subjects’ need before his own. Of course Soma wasn’t spared.

“Honestly, I don’t know how this engagement can be beneficial to both of us.” She said frankly. “I don’t know anything about you and your kingdom.”

“And whose fault is that?” He teased and Erina blushed.

“That’s… Ugh. That’s because you can be so annoying sometimes.”

He just laughed and somehow it felt like a truce between them has been reached.

He almost made her laugh again when he commented on how Prince Eizan looked like a snake when he was guiding her to the dance floor earlier. And then it started the litany of things that she found annoying about the four-eyed prince, with Soma pitching in from time to time. It was probably rude and disrespectful—making fun of a prince from an allied kingdom—but at that time, all Soma cared about was the fact that the Nakiri heiress was finally having fun.

*** ***

[theartofbeinganerd]

draw me close (in your warmth, I forget how cold it can be) Pt III

(Part One) (Part Two)

Alright, here is the final part of this installment in the Marauder!Fitz/Servant!Jemma 'verse - though, I have a very good feeling that this isn't going to be the last installment that I’ll write... ;D

(Ao3)

-

Watching as May and Daisy hauled the last of the unconscious Kree into the ship’s escape pod, Jemma anxiously chewed at her bottom lip, throwing a glance at the empty hallway behind them.

“Enoch said that Mack went to find Fitz,” May said suddenly, recapturing Jemma’s attention. Directing a knowing look at her, she finished, “He’s fine, Simmons.”

“I know, I know. I just…don’t like not knowing,” Jemma admitted, clasping her hands together and grimacing.

“Listen to May – she’s pretty smart.”

Her eyebrows rising, Jemma turned to watch as Mack approached them, what was actually the last of the unconscious Kree slung over his shoulder. He grunted with effort, tossing the man into the pod with the others.

“Fitz is alright, then?” she pressed, bringing her clasped hands up to her chest and holding her breath as she waited for his answer.

Chuckling, Mack clapped one of his large hands on her shoulder and nodded. “Yeah, he’s alright. A little banged up, but that’s about it. He was just as worried ‘bout you, last time I saw him.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, Jemma smiled warmly up at Mack and murmured, “Thank you.”

As May closed the doors on the pod, Mack explained to them, “Fitz wants to regroup as soon as we can; he called a meeting in the commissary in five.”

May gave a nod of understanding, then pressed the button to launch the pod out of the ship, and into the empty space beneath it. Then, slapping the button to communicate with the Kree ship that was still on their tail, she said shortly, “You might want to go retrieve that pod – your people are on it.” And then, with that, she turned on her heel and headed in the direction of the commissary.

For a moment, the three of them simply watched her striding away, but then Daisy commented aloud, “Dude, she’s amazing.” As they began to follow her, she asked Mack, “Hey, what do you think it’ll take to get her to train me?”

He gave a deep chuckle at that, throwing his arm around her shoulders briefly and giving her a little squeeze. "Don’t worry about it – if May wants to train you, you’ll know.”

By the time that they arrived in the commissary, everyone else had already gathered there. They were all circled around one of the tables, and as Jemma approached it, she could see Fitz sitting at the head of it, slouching slightly and with drying blood caking his paler-than-normal face here and there, but alive.

Without really paying any mind to the others, she made a direct beeline toward him, feeling that she was only able to breathe properly once she’d found his hand with hers, once she could reassure with her own hands and eyes that he was okay. “Fitz,” she breathed, a wide, relieved smile curving her lips.

“Jemma.” His tone matched hers as he gazed up at her in clear relief and awe, a little smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He gave her hand a small squeeze, his thumb stroking her knuckles.

Someone pointedly cleared their throat then, and Jemma felt her cheeks heating with embarrassment as she suddenly became aware once more that they most certainly were not alone. She turned to face the others, and had the feeling from Coulson’s amused, slightly awkward smirk that he was the one that had interrupted their moment.

“Sorry,” she murmured, briefly dropping her gaze to the table between them.

-

“Er…right,” Fitz started, dragging his free hand through his hair and not quite meeting anyone’s eyes, “I’m…ahem, I’m glad to see that everyone’s alright and in one piece. I called you all here to…to apologize for what happened today, as it was my actions that brought the Kree after us. That’s not to say that I regret them,” he added quickly, giving Jemma’s hand another, brief squeeze, “but I regret that any of you had to be involved.”

There was a beat of silence, then Mack spoke up. “Well, those are the breaks of doing the right thing, sometimes. It’s just part of the job.”

Relieved to find that he still had the support of his crew, even after what he’d brought upon them, Fitz offered Mack a grateful smile.

“Do you think that they will keep chasing after us?” Elena asked from where she stood beside Mack, her eyebrows arching in concern. “Not that we can’t take care of them.” At that, a pleased little smirk crossed her lips.

“Knowing Kasius? Probably not,” Jemma answered, shaking her head. “He’s proud, yes, and we’ve wounded his ego terribly. But, we’ve shown that we can defeat his warriors, and he doesn’t enter into a conflict that he isn’t sure that he’ll win.”

“Smart move,” May muttered, folding her arms over her chest.

Daisy slapped her hands down on the table then, gaining everyone’s startled attention. “Are you all kidding me?” She glanced around at each of them, her eyebrows high on her forehead in disbelief. “I thought it was clear what we had to do. We have to go back there! You saw what we did to those Kree – working together, as a team, we could take them out for good, and free everyone on the Lighthouse.”

For a moment, all that followed her statement was a slightly stunned silence; even Fitz wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. But, finally, Elena reminded her quietly, “That’s not what we signed up for.”

“No, maybe not,” Daisy agreed without missing a beat, “but you know that it’s the right thing to do. I thought that’s what you guys were all about.”

In response, Elena simply dropped her gaze to the table in front of her, possibly in guilt, possibly in shame.

Daisy waited another moment, but no one said anything else, she then went on, “I mean, with my powers, and how May apparently kicks some major ass, and – I saw all of those other Kree. I didn’t actually see you guys fight, but it’s clear that you can cause some damage too. It makes sense. Jemma and I, we lived on the Lighthouse our whole lives. It’s miserable, all because the Kree are controlling everything that we do. They control how much we eat, when we eat, what we do and don’t have. They even make us kill each other, just because they can.”

“Daisy’s right,” Jemma murmured, and Fitz glanced up at her to see her eyes shining with unshed tears, her jaw clenched slightly at what were no doubt horrible memories, and his heart absolutely ached for her. “We may have gotten out, but there are still so many people left there under Kasius’s reign. All of the horrible things that he does are still happening; selling Inhumans, enslaving people, it didn’t all go away just because we escaped.”

“Well,” Coulson started, planting his hands on his hips and nodding toward Fitz, “Fitz is the captain, so I say we leave it up to him.”

Suddenly finding himself with all eyes on him, Fitz shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat. Before he answered, he glanced up at Jemma, and found her gazing at him encouragingly. It was obvious to him that she would support whatever decision that he made, and he was grateful for that – though it didn’t make the decision any easier on him. “I…I may be your captain, but I won’t ask any of you to enter into a battle that isn’t yours to fight,” he finally said.

He was the captain, their leader, yes, but that didn’t mean that he would ask his crew, his friends, to potentially die for a cause that they might not even believe in.

“You don’t have to ask,” Coulson told him simply, reaching over from his spot on Fitz’s other side to rest a hand on his shoulder supportively. Turning to the others, he arched an eyebrow and asked, “Are we all in agreement?”

-

Jemma felt relief and fear blossoming inside of her simultaneously as she listened to Fitz’s crew members agree with Coulson one after the other, until they had come to a final decision. Of course she wanted to help free everyone that was still there, under Kasius’s thumb, but on the other hand…she wasn’t sure that she was ready to go back to the place where she’d experienced so much pain quite so soon.

However, it didn’t appear as if she had a choice, as Fitz then said, “Well, it looks as though we’re heading back to the Lighthouse, then.” Turning to May, he told her, “Set us a course, May.”

She nodded in understanding, then wordlessly left the commissary to follow the instruction. The rest of the crew began to disperse then, and Daisy stepped up to Fitz to say softly, “Thanks.”

“No problem,” he assured her, waving away her gratitude. “Like you said, it’s the right thing to do.”

Daisy smiled warmly at him, but then winced and reached up to touch a deep cut on her cheek. “Ouch,” she muttered, pulling her hand back to look at the blood on her fingertips.

“Oh,” Jemma murmured, releasing Fitz’s hand to get closer to her, inspecting the cut carefully. “Does this ship have a first aid kit? I could sew that up for you.”

“I’ll get that for you,” Mack offered, and she thanked him as he left the room to retrieve the kit.

Glancing around at the others still gathered there and seeing minor injuries here and there, she offered, “I can take care of any other wounds anyone may have. My mother’s mother was a nurse, years ago, and she passed the skills down to my mother, who passed them down to me.” After all, she’d like to do something productive with the skills – something to maybe wipe away the memory of being enslaved by Kasius for them.

“We have needed a medic on this ship for some time,” Elena told her, a little grin ticking her lips up as she joined her and Daisy.

“Well, I’m glad to be of assistance, then.”

Jemma spent the next half an hour or so patching up everyone’s minor wounds, from wrapping up Elena’s bruised ribs, to stitching up a cut on Coulson’s upper arm (and she’d been in for quite a shock when he’d rolled up his sleeve, and she’d noticed his detachable arm – he’d apparently lost it in a fight years ago), but finally, she’d fixed everyone up and sent them on their way.

Then, she went to move onto Fitz, who had insisted that he could wait until everyone else had been seen to, but she was startled to find that he was no longer in the commissary with her. Quickly realizing that he’d probably disappeared while she was busy tending to the others, Jemma rolled her eyes and packed up the kit, intent on finding him and taking care of him, whether he liked it or not.

It didn’t take her long to find him in his bunk, lying on his bed with his hands folded over his stomach. “There you are,” she said by way of greeting, closing the door behind herself and setting the kit on the bed beside him. “Here, this will help a bit with blood loss; you looked pale earlier.” She handed him a cup of water, eyeing him critically.

“M’always pale,” Fitz muttered, but he took the cup regardless, taking a long sip before setting it on the table beside his bed.

“Now, where did all of this blood come from?” Jemma asked, crouching slightly to get a good look at his face. Fortunately, the cuts there seemed to be mostly superficial, but it didn’t appear to be the only place that he was bleeding from.

With a great, heaving sigh, Fitz pushed himself up into a sitting position, grumbling, “S’nothing,” even as he lifted the hem of his shirt and revealed a bloodied wound from what appeared to be a bullet graze.

“Fitz!” she gasped in horror, dropping to her knees on the floor in front of him. Carefully, her trembling hand reached out to lightly press against the angry skin around his wound, and tears immediately built along the rims of her eyes as he flinched, hissing in pain. “I should’ve seen to you first, why didn’t you tell me?”

“S’nothing,” he repeated, shaking his head.

Angrily, Jemma opened the kit, shooting a dangerous glare up at Fitz as she grabbed a clean cloth and began to carefully wipe away some of the blood. “It is not nothing, Fitz. This is…” Not quite able to put the horror, the anger, the sadness into words, she simply shook her head at him.

-

Fitz watched Jemma warily as she stitched up his wound, noting that the tense set of her shoulders hadn’t eased, and that her brow was still furrowed in clear annoyance with him. He didn’t dare try to speak to her when she was so upset with him, and knew that he just had to give her time to stew about it – she had the right to be angry with him, after all.

Jemma didn’t speak again until she’d finished, sitting back on her heels and finally looking up to meet his eyes as she asked, “Is there anything else I should know about?” Instead of the hard tone that she’d used with him before, her voice was now just soft, tired, and it somehow made him feel even worse.

“My…um…” Swallowing, Fitz thumbed over his shoulder, at his back. “I think I’ve got some cuts on my back.”

She nodded wordlessly, collecting her supplies and replacing them in the kit before standing. Climbing onto the bed behind him, she carefully grasped the hem of his shirt in her hands, then began to lift it. He raised his arms to help her (only indulging in his pained wince at the movement since he was sure that she wouldn’t see it), and once it was off, she tossed it onto the floor, at his feet.

After a moment, Fitz felt her gentle fingertips caressing his skin, and he had to briefly close his eyes and take a deep, calming breath. Once she’d finally gotten started on cleaning up and bandaging them, he finally spoke up to tell her what had been on his mind since the Kree had invaded, needing to just get the words out, needing her to understand.

“Jemma,” he started, his voice low and rough with emotion, and he felt her fingers briefly pause, “I… When I realized that we were being attacked, that it was the Kree…my very first thought was of you. Not myself, not my crew, you.” He was quiet a moment, then took a deep breath and went on, “I care about my crew, ‘course. They’re my friends, a bit like family, and I wouldn’t want to lose any of them. But…but I have never cared for someone the way that I…that I care for you. I’ve never had someone that I just can’t lose, that I can’t imagine no longer having in my life. It’s…terrifying, I suppose. But…in a good way.”

With her behind him like she was, Fitz couldn’t see her face, let alone her reaction to his raw, honest words (most likely some of the most soul-bearing words that he’d ever spoken, which was terrifying in and of itself), could only feel as her hands stalled against his back.

When her silence began to drag on, he began to fear that he’d pushed her too far too soon, or that her feelings weren’t on the same level as his, that she needed more time. A bit worriedly, he prompted her, “Jemma?”

Jemma was silent for another beat, then she shifted on the bed so that she could kneel beside him, cupping his face within her palms. Meeting his gaze unwaveringly, she murmured, “Fitz…I feel the same way.”

“You do?” he asked, unable to help the little sigh of relief that he gave.

Laughing quietly and rolling her eyes, she replied, “Of course I do. I’m terrified by the way that I feel about you too, Fitz. That’s why…why I was so angry with you for not telling me how badly you’d gotten hurt. You can’t… Don’t hide things like that from me, okay? It’s only going to drive me even crazier with worry.”

Reaching up to cover one of his hands with his, Fitz gave her a small, apologetic smile, promising, “I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all I ask.” She gazed at him warmly, and he felt his stomach do an odd little flip as she tenderly carded her fingers through his hair. Then, she leaned in to brush her lips against his, her hand sliding down to curve along his jaw.

Jemma’s lips met his softly once, twice, three times before she leaned in to press against them more firmly. His hands automatically moved to grasp at her waist, needing something to hold onto as she tilted her head and deepened the kiss, cupping the back of his head to keep him close.

And, then she leaned into him a bit more, dropping her hand from his jaw to his shoulder to give it a little push. More than a little caught off-guard, he went along with it, falling back against the bed and taking Jemma with him.

Fitz broke away from the kiss to meet her gaze in concern, prompting softly, “Jemma?”

But, she simply smiled and nodded, then leaned back in to capture his lips once more.

-

Though space was much colder than she’d imagined it would be, Jemma felt warmer and safer at that moment than she had in years. Truthfully, she thought that lying in Fitz’s arms with her cheek pressed to his chest and all of his warm, bare skin pressed against hers was now her absolute favorite place in the universe to be.

Idly, she trailed her fingertips over his abdomen beneath the blankets, a little frown crossing her lips as she felt the rough edge of the bandage that she’d placed over his gunshot wound. But, she fought down her reaction to it, reminding herself that Fitz was alright, he was in her arms, and they were together. That was what was important, after all (even if she was still a little mad at him).

Turning her head to drop a kiss over his heart before settling back in, Jemma thought to herself with a little roll of her eyes that she’d been worried over nothing earlier that day. Sure, just about everything that she was experiencing in her relationship with Fitz was new to her, but it all felt so, so utterly right. Daisy had been correct about that, of course.

Suddenly, she couldn’t help but let out a quiet laugh, remembering Daisy’s statement about having to ‘tell her all about it’ once they’d actually gone through with it.

“What?” Fitz questioned softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and stroking his fingertips up and down her arm.

“Nothing,” Jemma replied, giving a little shake of her head.

He grew quiet once more, then gave her shoulder a small squeeze and asked gently, “Jemma…how do you feel about going back to the Lighthouse?”

She frowned at the question, closing her eyes and absently tapping her fingertips against his ribs as she thought about her answer. Finally, with a soft sigh, she murmured, “I’m…afraid. Afraid of us failing, and ending back up in Kasius’s servitude, afraid of losing you, afraid of going from being so happy to being miserable once more. But…I know that it’s what’s right, and I want to help those people. And, well, I imagine that I’ll be able to sleep better knowing that I didn’t simply abandon everyone that’s still enslaved there.”

Jemma felt Fitz nod in understanding, his thumb drawing an absent circle on her upper arm. After a lengthy moment, he asked, “How long have you been having the nightmares?”

The previous night came back to her in a rush, her nightmare still playing before her eyes as Fitz had done his very best to comfort her, to get her through it, even though he’d probably had no idea what was happening at the time.

Releasing a sigh, she gave a little shrug. “Well, that’s…complicated. I’ve been dreaming of my parents ever since Kasius took me, but they’re only nightmares every so often. Usually it’ll be when I’ve had an especially tough day, or something awful has happened. And…they’re always soundless.”

“Soundless?” Fitz repeated, his interest obviously piqued. “Because of the implant?”

“Yes,” Jemma answered with a small nod. “It was quite…traumatic, having my hearing taken in such a way. Up until he had me start working with Inhumans, the only thing that I was able to hear for so long was his voice.”

She felt his hand clench around her shoulder, just briefly, before it relaxed. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, dropping another tender kiss on the top of her head.

Shaking her head to tell him wordlessly that it was alright, she went on, “After the dreams, I’m always left feeling…profoundly empty, alone. I’ve been abandoned, and Kasius has me trapped; there’s no hope left to be found.” She was quiet, contemplative, for a moment, then smiled softly and went on, “If only you could save me in my dreams like you did in reality.”

Fitz gave a quiet chuckle, stroking her shoulder with his thumb and turning his head to press a kiss to her temple. “I’ll do my best,” he replied, repeating the words of his promise from earlier.

Pushing herself up onto her elbow, Jemma reached up to cup his beloved face in her palm, drawing her thumb lightly over his bottom lip. Never having been more certain of anything in her life, and never having been more grateful for the ability to speak and listen as she pleased, she whispered, “I love you, Fitz.”

His eyes grew incredibly soft, his lips parted to let out a rush of breath, and she felt his hand tremble, just slightly, against her back. And even though she was reasonably sure that from his earlier confession that he loved her in return, her heart still skipped a beat as he murmured, “Jemma… I love you. I love you.”

Laughing around the brilliant smile that spread across her face, Jemma leaned down to kiss him, mumbling over and over against his lips, “Love you, love you, love you.”

They may have been headed back to the Lighthouse, to the place where she’d experienced years and years of misery and emotional trauma, but just then, it simply didn’t matter.

She and Fitz were in love, and she had never been happier.

And, that night, Jemma fell asleep and found herself having the very same dream that she always did – however, this time, Fitz was there. He rescued her from her enslavement, and together, they took down Kasius, escaped, and flew off into space, into a brighter future.

When she woke the next morning, it was to find herself curled up in Fitz’s embrace, her new favorite place, her new home. Feeling completely safe and loved, a warm smile curved her lips, and Jemma knew then with absolute certainty that everything really would be alright, as long as they were together.

[lukeccrain]

okay i need stanlon with the first time mike takes stan to visit the farm. ♥

alyy!!!!!!! i love this!!!!!  ALSO, this is a continuation of my pining!stanlon hc!

Whenever Mike and Stan meet up, it’s usually on their usual bird-watching bench in the park, the barrens, or Stanley’s finished basement, where they sit on the old sofa and listen to records while talking about absolutely anything that comes to mind. This is where they are when Mike suddenly asks if Stan would like to visit the farm on Saturday.

Stan is knelt over the turntable, in the middle of changing the Bob Seger album for Billy Joel. He hesitates for a moment, the arm of the record player poised between two fingers. He had never been to Mike’s farm before, and frankly, he had never really had any interest in going. From his understanding, farms were dirty and smelled like manure- conditions in which Stan never really imagined himself spending his Saturday afternoon in. But still, he could tell how important the farm was to Mike by the way he’d talk animatedly about his weekends in the pasture or sewing seeds in the vegetable patch. Really, the farm was an extension of Mike, and so denying the invitation would be like denying Mike himself. So of course, Stan agrees.

On Saturday morning, Stan dresses in his usual smart collared shirt and ironed khaki shorts. He suspects that this isn’t the most appropriate attire for a day on the farm, but he doesn’t own any overalls and his mom won’t let him dirty the expensive blue jeans they bought him for his birthday. He bikes down the winding dirt road that leads to the Hanlons’ farm, feeling both anxious and excited. Mike is waiting for him by the tin mailbox that has Hanlon stenciled onto the side. There’s a border collie wagging its tail fervently beside him, and it immediately jumps up to greet Stan with a plethora of slobbery kisses. Mike is almost excited as the dog, and he calls Maggie off with a hearty laugh. “I think she likes you,” Mike grins, and Stan can’t help but smile back as he wipes slobber from his cheeks with the back of his hand.

Mike takes Stan’s hand and leads him into the farmyard, pointing out various buildings to Stan happily. Maggie the dog romps alongside them, tongue lolling out the side of her mouth. Maybe it’s just the infectious cheeriness that is exuded by Mike’s voice, but Stan finds himself thinking that the farm isn’t that bad so far. The aroma of sheep manure is undeniable, but it’s diluted by the smell of canola and freshly cut grass and Mike. Stan actually finds it to be a pleasant smell once he’s become habituated to the more unsavoury aromatics.

Crab apple trees grow in a cluster near the quaint farmhouse, and this is their first stop. Mike explains that this is his favourite place to read, and Stan can understand why. The trees provide a reprieve from the summer heat of Maine, and the grass around grows thick and green. When Stan closes his eyes, he can envision afternoons here, his head in Mike’s lap as they each read their own paperback. The two pick apples for a while, placing their trophies in five-gallon buckets that Mike finds by one of the sheds. Every so often, Mike will throw one off into the field that borders the yard for Maggie to fetch, and Stan can’t help but giggle at just how pleased she is when drops it at Mike’s feet a few moments later.

Eventually, they make their way into the barn. It’s empty right now, the sheep out enjoying the warm summer day in the carrel. Admittedly, the smell is sharp enough in here that it causes Stan’s nose to twist in disgust, but Mike insists that you get used to it after a while. 

Stan watches from an old wooden chair as Mike tosses dirty hay from the stalls with a pitchfork. Mike’s biceps ripple each time he raises the pitchfork over his shoulder, and Stan can’t believe he didn’t realize before just how strong Mike was. 

Once Mike is finished with his chores, he beckons Stan up an old, rickety ladder into the hayloft. The hay up here is cleaner, and the air is warm and comfortable. They sit with their backs resting against a bale, and Mike wraps an arm around Stan’s shoulder. They talk in hushed tones, not wanting to disturb the serene quiet of the loft. The way the afternoon sun filters through the slats of the roof and falls upon Stan’s soft features makes Mike’s heart skip an extra beat, and he can’t help but lean over and kiss him every so often.

They almost fall asleep up here, but their names being called from the house stirs them from their dozy daydreams. Mike’s mom has prepared tomato and cheese sandwiches and lemonade for lunch, and she greets Stan with a sunny smile. She asks Stan about his family and school, and Stan replies politely, making sure to compliment Mrs. Hanlon’s meal every couple of bites. She laughs and waves a hand, insisting that it’s really nothing and it’s just a pleasure to have him over. Stan can tell that she genuinely means it, and he decides in that moment that he loves the Hanlons’ farm.

After lunch, the two boys do up the dishes, with Stan washing and Mike drying. Something about the warm, soapy water and Mike’s presence makes Stan’s heart feel so full.

The rest of the afternoon is spent climbing trees and puttering in the vegetable patch behind the crab apple orchard. Any of Stan’s remaining reservations about spending the day at the farm are chipped away with each easy laugh and stolen peck on the cheek. 

Most of the Saturdays that come after are spent at the Hanlon farm, and Stan decides he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his life here with Mike if he could.

[animalsarepeople2]

When Toothless awoke, he knew that something was wrong. He couldn't quite place exactly what was off, though, so he merely shrugged it away. He was a Night Fury, after all; he could push through any discomfort.

He snapped open his eyes over to Hiccup's bed. The new chief was rousing as well, knowing that he'd soon have to start a new day.

Toothless jumped from his platform, then came over to Hiccup's door. As the new alpha, he too had new responsibilities to take over. And some couldn't be completed by himself, as he required Hiccup to be able to fly. Hiccup had constantly suggested that Toothless wear his mechanical tailfin, but Toothless despised the thing. It was decided. He would wait for Hiccup when the needed to use the air.

Hiccup sat up in bed, yawning. He rubbed his eyes as he stepped out of bed. He still used his own room instead of the proper chief's master bedroom; a little improper, but it would be odd to suddenly start sleeping in his late father's room.

"I'm coming, bud," said Hiccup as he quickly changed into suitable clothes for the day. Toothless waited patiently for his rider until Hiccup came over. "Alright, let's go, Toothless," he said, opening the door for them both. Toothless bounded out and darted down the stairs. Hiccup took more time to walk down the steps, but soon arrived. He got Toothless some fish, then had some mutton-meal for himself. Once they were done with breakfast, they left the house to begin the busy day.

Hiccup started to board Toothless (though the walk to the central village was only a few minutes, it would be quicker to fly), but when he clicked the tailfin into place, Toothless gave a whimper of pain.

"What…?" Concerned, Hiccup tried the same thing over to see if he would evoke the same reaction. Again, Toothless hissed, his pupils narrowing at the irritation.

"Woah, buddy… hey, it's okay… what's going on, Toothless?" Hiccup worriedly patted Toothless's head, calming the Night Fury down. "Let's see what's going on back here…" He stumbled off of his dragon to see what was the problem. Was the tailfin not latched on properly? The strings broken, perhaps?

"Oh!" Hiccup said as he saw the problem. "Huh. It seems that your tail has almost shrunk, bud…" He broke into a sly, yet knowing smile. "That... or you're getting bigger."

Toothless rumbled questioningly.

Hiccup smirked. "It means that Night Furies can apparently get pretty large, Toothless… you're a big dragon already. And I think you must've gained at least twenty pounds this month alone." Toothless guiltily thought of the extra portions of fish he had snuck, or the time that he had two full-size dinners in one night. Hiccup laughed. "You're growing, bud, expanding out in both ways. It's nothing to be ashamed of. We'll just need to make you a new tailfin, that's all."

Toothless tensed, then growled. No.

"Huh?" said Hiccup, cocking his head to try and meet Toothless's green gaze; the dragon was avoiding him. "Does the big baby boo not want a new tailfin?"

The Night Fury grunted, though it was in some sort of agreement. I don't, in fact, thank you very much…

Hiccup chuckled. "Come on, bud; I've changed your prosthetic a million times before."

This one's fine! I don't need a new one. Go fix something else. Toothless ducked away before Hiccup could get up to any schemes.

But it was true. Hiccup had changed the dragon's tailfin out before, and Toothless certainly needed a change today. However, now... Toothless didn't want a new one. Now that he was the alpha dragon, and Hiccup was a chief, this tailfin was the only link back to the happy times he and his rider had shared. He didn't want to throw away all of the memories of joyful flights with Hiccup, soaring so high it was hard to breathe, discovering new lands and new dragon species… it was too precious to forget.

"Toothless…" Hiccup's voice was in his warning tone. "You need a new prosthetic."

Toothless huffed, turning away. He would do what he liked. He was the awesome Night Fury. No rules could hold him down if he didn't want them to.

Hiccup sighed in exasperation. "Flying is going to hurt you, then, bud. You won't be able to grasp control."

Who cares! I'll figure it out.

"You might fall."

Done that a thousand times.

"I might fall."

Toothless gave the chief a pointed look. Like you haven't before. In his youth, Hiccup had fallen from fifty-foot drops, earning barely a scratch. He could survive now.

Hiccup groaned, tugging at Toothless's thick neck but not even budging the Night Fury. "I'm the chief of an entire village and I can't even control one stubborn dragon… oh, Thor give me strength…" After a minute of fruitless tugging, he threw his hands up. "Fine! I guess I'll just have to walk to town, like the good old days."

Hiccup began to march away, and Toothless soon trotted after him. He had business is the village, as well. Even though dragons had been tamed for years, there was the occasional rogue beast who kept on setting houses on fire or stealing sheep. OId habits, really, but aggravating nonetheless.

A few minutes later, the pair arrived in the central village. It was bustling with the morning cheeriness and stray flames. Hiccup wouldn't trade this life for the whole world.

Unbeknownst to Toothless, Hiccup had wandered over to the forge. He had a million more things to do today, but he wasn't stupid. Toothless needed a new tailfin. They couldn't be grounded for too long. Hiccup needed to be airborne for plenty of his chiefly duties, as did Toothless for being an alpha. It was only a matter of time before Toothless gave in to the bigger picture, and the chief needed to be ready for when that happened. Still… Toothless's ego was bigger than Stoick the Vast's belly. It might take awhile before Toothless finally relented.

Gobber grinned at Hiccup when he entered his shop. He was fixing up a Nightmare's teeth right now, so he couldn't get up to talk, but Hiccup waved to show he had seen him. Then he continued to the back of the forge where he could get started on that tail.

A few minutes into his work, he felt something nudge his back. He turned to see Toothless there, looking displeased. He was obviously grumpy at Hiccup going behind his back. I. Said. No.

Hiccup set down his contorted metal rod. "Toothless, you know this is necessary. We can't be stuck on land forever… even you can't be that obstinate."

Toothless stuck his head up. Watch me.

With that, he stalked out of the room with all the dignity of an alpha… that is, until he stumbled on a stray wrench. But he straightened a moment later and continued his kingly strut.

Hiccup shook his head after him, muttering, "That dragon…" With a sigh, he turned back to his work. Once he had finished bending the metal, he could put it in the flames to harden it, and then dunk it in water in order to cool it. After that, he would make his finishing touches… he still needed the fabric for the actual tailfin, after all… but the skeleton of the tail would be done. So he resumed the task, settling comfortably back into work in the forge. He had spent about half of his life working in here, and was still used to taking the role of a blacksmith. Once he was done with the rod, he could get started on the fabric… he could use the same design, of course, he just needed to sew on a new patch of-

"TOOTHLESS!"

Once again, the Night Fury had snuck up on his rider. Hiccup blew out a pained puff of air. "Toothless. Out. I'm making your tailfin no matter what you do…"

But Toothless persisted, whining and whimpering badly. Finally, Hiccup gave up working and turned to his dragon. "Toothless, can't you see that I need to-"

Suddenly, Toothless latched his mouth onto Hiccup's arm (teeth safely retracted in gum) and tugged the chief out of the room. He seemed to want Hiccup to go somewhere. Hiccup fought back, yelling, "Toothless, this is no time for games!"

I know that! Toothless growled in return, but continued. This wasn't about him. It was about the village and his new dragon subjects.

Hiccup was about to go against his dragon and scratch his soft spot so he'd let him go, but then he heard a scream from outside. It was followed by another one, and still another. Hiccup stopped resisting Toothless's pull, allowing the Night Fury to bring him to the scene of action.

In the sky, a Nadder and a Timberjack were fighting, exchanging bursts of flame, spikes, and razor-sharp wings. When the Nadder shot a spineshot at the other dragon, the Timberjack would respond by slicing it in half with one brush of its wings. They then would shoot fire at each other, and the whole process would start over again. But, the thing was, some of the fire was dangerously spraying over the villagers, starting pandemonium. And that Timberjack's wings were brushing the tops of houses a little too close for comfort. The owners of these dragons shouted for them to get back down, but the bickering pair ignored the humans.

Hiccup grimly set his jaw. "We need to break up this fight before they destroy someone's home." He unconsciously jumped on Toothless's back, clicking the tailfin into place. Toothless shuddered at the too-tight fit, and Hiccup's heart panged in sympathy.

"I'm sorry, bud," he apologized. "I don't have time to finish the tailfin… maybe if you had listened earlier, we could've been ready. But it's too late for that. We have to take action now."

To prove Hiccup's point, the rogue Nadder shot a spineshot that landed mere inches away from Hiccup's ear, embedded in the wall.

Toothless rumbled, agreeing with his rider. He had tried to control these two quarreling dragons with his new alpha powers, but whatever had enraged them had blocked their mind so powerfully that Toothless couldn't hope to control them. He had only been alpha for a few months- he was still getting used to these new abilities. Hiccup would be better off helping than him.

Shakily, the pair shot up in the sky. Toothless's tail was agony, and his whole body went rigid as it tried to fix the problem but could not.

Hiccup stroked Toothless's head in comfort. "Hang in there, buddy… I'm right here… right here… I've got you… we're almost there… we can do it, Toothless, we're a team… you're a Night Fury… you can do it… hang in there… please, bud, please…" Toothless, trembling, nodded his head, and Hiccup grinned. "There's my buddy, that's it… alright, just a little more now… steady… steady… and… barrel ro-"

But Hiccup never finished that sentence, for poor Toothless's pain scale could only go so far. Overwhelmed and screeching in agony, he bucked like crazy and began to fall from the sky.

This sudden motion was harmful to Hiccup. He was thrown out of his saddle, yelping in alarm. He tumbled down to the earth, causing his villagers to scream. Toothless's vision was red with suffering, but he saw Hiccup fall and dove down to catch his rider.

However, he was too late.

Hiccup slammed down in the dust, his feet (er… foot) stretched out and taking in all of the impact. With a holler of pain and a sickening SNAP, he collapsed to the ground.

Toothless hit the dirt a few seconds later, but his large build and tough skin protected him from more than a few scratches here and there. But Hiccup wasn't so lucky. He hit the ground, full-force, on his legs.

Without even taking a moment to rest, Toothless bounded over to the fallen chief, whining in concern. Hiccup's face was tight and saturated with pain. He was trembling, and his fingers were twitching towards his right leg. "Ow… o-ow... oww… Tth.. le…" He stopped mumbling a moment later, falling back to just twitching.

Villagers gathered around the two in panic. Toothless growled, snapping at them. The stress of everything was taking its toll on the Night Fury. He was confused at what was going on… but he did know one thing: they were trying to take Hiccup away. They were going to hurt him. Just like in the arena with the Nightmare, years ago… Toothless had to save him.

He let out a mighty roar and stood to his hind legs. He wouldn't let them take his rider. He wouldn't. He would fight them with everything in him. This was his rider! And the alpha protected its own. He shot a plasma blast into the crowd, earning terrified screams. If he was his real self, he would've seen that this was wrong, but he was so on edge with worry and fear that he was falling back to his wild self. He reared again, snarling, and ready to-

Suddenly, Toothless felt a stinging pain the back of his neck. His eyes found that there was some sort of dart sticking out of him. Even more enraged because of his pain, he howled, preparing to jump on the next person who came close to him. But there were more pains, more darts injecting themselves in him. His head swam with a sudden lethargy, and he stumbled back sleepily. What were those things…? Why did he feel so… so...

He was too tired to find out. Despite his mind's roaring protests, he staggered to the ground, then fell over. Unconsciousness crept into his brain, and he soon had no choice but to let go.

His last thought was of Hiccup, and how disappointed he'd be in him.

Toothless awoke with a pounding headache. Images swam in his head. Phantom hands grabbed at him. His mind was muddled and disoriented. What had happened? Groaning, he pushed his head up and creaked his eyes open. He was in Gothi the healer's room. He remembered this place with bad memories. It was the house where the Berkians had taken Hiccup after the battle with the Red Death… Hiccup… Hiccup… something was wrong. Terribly wrong. Why couldn't he remember-?

His eyes caught on a single bed in the corner. There was a tall figure lying in it. A horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach, Toothless forced himself up and walked over to see who it was. He whimpered once he saw.

It was Hiccup.

The chief was drifting in between consciousness and sleep, murmuring feverish things under his breath and groaning in discomfort. Toothless whined, worried. Fuzzy memories filled his head. The old tailfin. The dragon fight. The flight. The fall… billows of unadulterated rage… he needed to protect his rider… stinging darts… He growled.

Hiccup's eyes fluttered at Toothless's noise, then fully opened. "Wha… Toothless!" Joy filled his eyes. "Hey, bud! Good to see you up… you've been sleeping for awhile."

Toothless sat down. He wanted to rush over and lick Hiccup's face, but was still tired and confused at what had gone down. He cocked his head. What happened?

"Well… when I fell, I twisted my ankle badly. It was nearly broken, but by some crazy miracle, it wasn't. Apparently, you went… well... wild." He said the word carefully. "Fortunately, someone had some tranquilizer darts with them so they could calm you down while they helped me. I don't remember much, but Astrid told me that they brought me here and Gothi fixed me up. I woke shortly after, but you were still out cold on the floor- they had moved you inside with me. Everyone explained what had happened. Gothi then gave me a sleeping potion that would hold me over for a few hours and block out the pain. I just woke up now… and I guess you did, too, bud." He smiled. "Well, that was one adventure, huh…"

Toothless lowered his head, unhappy.

"What's wrong?" Hiccup asked. "We're all okay now, Toothless…"

It's my fault.

Hiccup, though he could not speak dragon, seemed to understand. "Ah, no, bud… growing up is no one's fault. There's no one to blame for you outgrowing your tailfin. And you couldn't help but have to stop flying when you were in that much pain."

I didn't listen to you. Toothless looked ashamed. I hurt you.

"Toothless… look…" Hiccup struggled to sit up in bed, and managed to. "We all make mistakes in life. Sometimes our pride can block our true judgement. It has for me, too, sometimes. I don't know why you didn't want a new tailfin, but… that's okay. We all have our secrets in life."

Toothless grunted gratefully.

"Just, sometimes… actually hear me out, okay, bud? We're a team. And team-mates need to work together. I'll listen to you if you listen to me." Hiccup smirked. "And maybe be a little less stubborn?"

The dragon nodded after a moment. Alright.

Hiccup reached out his hand towards Toothless's nose, like he had done the first time he had trained the beast. "Do you trust me?"

Without hesitation, Toothless bridged the gap between them, pressing his forehead into Hiccup's palm.

I do.

He moved closer, and Hiccup wrapped his arms around the Night Fury's neck in a comforting hug.

"Thanks," said Hiccup in a muffled voice.

Toothless gave a soft rumble back as he leaned into the embrace. From now on, he would try and listen to Hiccup. Sure, he was a Night Fury, one of the most powerful dragons of all time. But he was also a friend. And friends respected each other. So that's what Toothless would do.

He would allow a new tailfin. The past was great, he admitted, and he would also look back at it fondly. But the future… the future was even better. He would remember those elated times with Hiccup for always, but also look forward to the new adventures he and his rider would experience. Yes...

And so all was well.

"So… how about that tailfin, huh?"

A shuffle backwards.

"Toothless…"

I was just kidding… well… sort of…

"You are the stubbornest dragon I've ever met."

There was a grumble. And you are the stubbornest human.

A sigh. Then a smile. "Love you, bud."

And I you.

There. Now all was well.

[tigressaofkanjis]

An Outlasting Halloween - Killer Croc x Bane

A fanfic I wrote for Halloween with our two favorite dorks. Remember this post? Yeah, I decided to act upon it. I don't regret this and considering my version of Croc gained more than enough confidence after accepting himself, crossdressing would be something he would do to drive Bane insane. Years of rivalry has led to this moment and Croc is going to make Bane suffer for one night.

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

“Bane. Bane.”

“Hmm?”

“Bane, come here. I have the greatest idea for a Halloween costume! In fact, I have one for you two,” Waylon excitedly curled his tail as he grinned like Jervis at a tea party.

The luchador-themed man rolled his eyes in amusement at his partner -in-crime’s enthusiasm. He walked over to the couch Waylon was lying on with his laptop and a juvenile gator as his feet sleeping. He watched the large ridged tail wagging up and down as Croc turned his laptop towards Bane.

“Amigo, I don’t know what so special about a character who appears to be wearing a damaged fancy vest and dirty white shirt. Also, is that blood over his right eye?” Bane questioned, squinting at the pictures.

Killer Croc nodded quickly, “Do you remember the video game, Outlast, the game Drury and Garfield decided to make a react series out of for YouTube? You remember the DLC they were oh so engaged in?”

The man raised brow, “Oh you mean the one where you have to escape an asylum of sorts. That one? And this is-cual es su nombre-Eddie Glue…skin?”

“Gluskin, yes. He’s one of the main antagonists and I thought since you have the hair cut like him as well as that old ballroom suit you only used three years ago when you first came here that you would fit the character perfectly. We could add real blood or fake to a machete or something, add some makeup and you’d fit the look quite well!”

Bane crossed his arms, “Really? And what will I do all dressed up in a costume, compañero? We don’t have many places to go on Halloween except cause some mischief raiding houses while everyone is distracted, but our friends are hardly going to go with us for something as childish as that.”

Croc smirked, “What if I told you Kirk and his wife, Garfield, Fries, Jervis, and others are dressing up and they have plans to just have some pointless fun because like you said, it’s Halloween. Why rob a bank on Halloween when we could terrorize the houses for our treats? Besides if you wish to dress up, I have a plan to match you. While you are Eddie Gluskin , I’ll be Waylon Park. I have the attire thanks to Harley and Ivy so I’m set.”

Upon thinking about the benefits and cons of this proposed Halloween team up, Bane say really no downside that would set them back. At most, Batman would just slap their wrists probably out of annoyance considering the holidays were by far his least favorite time to crime fight them and an agitated Bruce was no fun.

Clicking his tongue, Bane shrugged finally, “Sure, why not? I’ll call Page Monroe and see if she can lend me her tailor to ‘mess up’ my perfect vest and shirt. Also, doesn’t this Waylon from the game wear a jumpsuit, a morbid tannish brown? That doesn’t seem as creative as you would usually do.”

A very strange smirk played on Waylon’s face, “Trust me, I’m not wearing the jumpsuit. I’m going to wear something more appropriate in contrast to your outfit that would make our team up even more special. Just wait and see.”

Narrowing his eyes, Bane bit his lip and grunted in an acknowledgeable but confused fashion. When he left, Waylon peered in the opposite direction towards one of his henchmen who was sharpening a few blades while watching some older cartoons.

“Vic, mon home, I need you to call Harley and tell her it’s on. Le marié a accepté la proposition.”

The brutish henchman nodded with a smirk and set the weapon he was working on down to grab the phone and started dialing.

Croc laughed, “Oh Bane, let’s see how confident you really are.” --------------------------------------

Today was Halloween and all the adults and kids were about to leave at dusk to get candy and lots of it. Bane had agreed to take part only because of his intriguing colleague was so excited for it.

Designing the suit wasn’t as difficult as Bane imagined it would be. Page was gracious enough to let him use her tailor and offered him some choice options for the costume as well. Trousers which had been worn with patches were apparently a runway fashion once but of course, it never flew past the stage with the judges and it was around his size surprisingly. With a few altercations, it was his and the vest he brought was ripped apart and stitched back to replicate Gluskin’s demented fabrication.

Croc was right when he said he had the perfect haircut for the part as no changes were necessary. He did, however, have to go to Harley Quinn for makeup touches as he wasn’t quite cosmetically savvy as the clown was. With little effort, she managed to make his right side of his face look bloody and deformed from certain angles without the need for any prosthetics. He had to admit he was impressed.

“Damn Bane, you look like the spitting image of Eddie Gluskin! Holy crap! Maybe a bit more ripped than Eddie but you’re really rocking it, like wow dude!” Firefly said as he stared in amazement.

Even the ever stoic Mr. Freeze was wide eyed at the design. “I have to say, I’m a little jealous. Waylon is going to have a field day with this. His costume is quite good too and what he admires in you, you’ll probably admire in him.”

That made Bane pause, “You’ve seen Waylon’s costume?”

“Yes, Ivy, Jonathan and I helped design it. I helped with…certain parts of the costume while Ivy did the layout and sewed the materials with Jon. I have to say even though I’m not particular that fond of men over women, Waylon’s outfit is very sexy. It really emphasizes the curves of his muscles and not to mention does amazing work for his hips.”

That drew a suspicious look from Bane but he didn’t dare question it. Garfield was nodding too which meant he had seen it as well. The chances of them telling him what it was exactly were slim because they knew better than to ruin the surprise.

So Croc was dressed sexy? That usually didn’t fit the man’s ideal in clothing but considering he was in fact a walking, talking crocodile basically, his standards and dignity were pretty lax. No matter what Waylon was in, nobody outside of the Asylum would be paying attention to his attire; they would be more fixated on his appearance and run in fear of being killed than stop to question his clothing choices.

It did make Bane very curious as to what Waylon was wearing. He recalled the video game Outlast was mainly prison-clad bad guys with deformities and blood but nothing really sexy. The character Waylon Park was pursued by the Groom to be his bride but-no, there was no way Croc managed to get a wedding dress. That was insane but why would Waylon do that?

Bane entered the lounge area which only had a couple of Croc’s henchmen with glow in the dark white paint over their armor and faces to resemble skeletons. Even their guns on their hips had bones painted on. He was surprised at their dedication.

“Muchachos, where is Waylon?”

The men gave a snicker seemingly at him and one pointed behind him with his thumb over to the bathroom. There was a laugh from the inside and sure enough, the door swung open and a white gown blood stained and ripped on the right side to somewhat show the scales of Waylon’s leg flowed gracefully as Croc leaned against the frame of the door cockily.

Bane was stunned at the appearance and no words could come to mind to describe his feelings towards it. The strapless top piece seemed to be tight as a corset as he could see some of the muscle underneath the fabric, and the breast area outlined by pearls pushed against Waylon’s pecks and pushed them high enough to give the illusion of actual cleavage. Waylon wore bridal glove with open palms and fingers but was torn to accommodate his arm spikes while his neck held a simple white band as a necklace. The strip that marked the end of the corset and the beginning of the flowing gown was also dowsed in pearls, gripping tightly against the outline of Croc’s hips. The gown itself was mostly intact but the right side had a slit for his leg which supported a rather peculiar garter on his middle thigh. Blood stains were prominent under the breasts to appear like they were operated on and the blood soaked through while a huge blood mark was right on the gown and just above the hip line strip indicating a “forced” fake sex change had occurred, just like Eddie Gluskin would have done. In Croc’s left hand, a video camera was held and on top of his head, a bridal tiara with pearls and silver plus a veil flowing down his neck was there and quite beautiful.

While Bane was more than obviously peering over Waylon’s costume, the mutated man was grinning like a hyena at how he managed to baffle the ex-terrorist. “When I said I had a surprise for you, didn’t think it would be this, did you?”

Bane snapped out of his trance and stuttered, “N-no, I can honestly say…just…whoa!”

Pushing off from his lean, Waylon strode closer to the other man with a very calm reserve. “What can I say, being married to Ivy taught me well.”

“I-I um…you look amazing,” the Hispanic man spoke.

The henchmen on the opposite side of the room giggled and one took a picture with both Waylon and Bane in the picture facing each other. The guard who snapped it whispered, “I am so posting this on Twitter!”

Bane swallowed loud and uneasily as Croc merely blinked slowly, still holding a sweet smile. “You really capture the-the aesthetic of the game. The garter is a-heh a very nice touch.”

“So did you it seems. The garter was last minute because this rip in the gown was actually an accident. My hips were straining against the fabric and one side couldn’t take the pressure, so I had to finish the rip and add something more in tune to what Gluskin would want. The tiara and veil though I could probably do without. That part was Scarecrow’s idea and Freeze, being the one who did my pearl embroidery, was against it,” Waylon purred, taking off the crown.

He threw it to his henchmen and the one who caught it quickly put in on his head and smirked as the others laughed at him. One even tried to grab at the tiara was playfully pushed away by a now sassy royal skeleton-faced guard.

Waylon chuckled before turning back to Bane, “You look like you don’t know how to feel about this. Or maybe you’re starting to realize you like seeing me cross dress. What’s the matter, Bane? Finally confronted with a fight inside you can’t win.”

“Wha-no, no, I am thinking about some things but I’m not-no. Besides I have to ask, is that dress even comfortable? It looks like it’s molded to you.”

Croc clutched the rim of the breast attire and dragged it upward a bit with a wiggle before confidently letting go with a smug pose, “Are you kidding me, this is actually quite comfy and admit it, I make this look good. It has padding and defines my form perfectly.”

Bane raised a brow, “And your dignity?”

“What dignity?” Croc gestured around him and laughed, “Bane, I’m a nine foot plus human being with a skin condition worsened by a military experiment. I used to hate myself for being such a freak but now I see there is nothing to be afraid of. I’m me and if society doesn’t like it, they can kiss my ass. I can do whatever I want now and wearing a dress for a costume is one of them, especially if it gets me what I want. I don’t have a lot of moral standards anymore when it comes to clothing or society norm. At this point, I’m just going with whatever I can pull off. Ha, this dress is actually really comfortable; you should try it.”

“Thank you but I prefer pants over a dress. You actually do look good in a dress, I’ll…um…admit that,” Bane muttered, occasionally glancing down from Croc’s face to the rest of his body when the latter turned his head away to look at his mooks.

As soon as Croc peered back at him, he averted his gaze immediately and resumed making eye contact. Waylon just smiled and played innocent, “Then perhaps you and I should start greeting Gotham and its trick-or-treaters, maybe steal some candy while we’re at it. I heard the more wealthy ones are giving away much more this year like king sized items. Of course, I am hoping we have enough candy to last us until the morning. Maybe we’ll both get a much bigger treat at the end. Who knows?”

“Uh, sure. Lead the way, Croc,” Bane nervously replied, blushing which made the red makeup he wore seemingly glow if not making the rest of his face almost the exact shade of red. Croc’s henchmen still snickered at him as they followed their boss out, protecting him like a pack of wolves.

When Waylon swept past him, he had to hike up his gown a bit to walk and not trip over it. This gave the Hispanic man a much clearer view of the garter and trailing behind the gown was the reptilian tail Bane almost forgot about albeit it was well hidden, curled beneath the gown mostly. He also took not that the dress covering the part of the spine where the tail met made Waylon appear as if he had a rather large rear.

Unbeknownst to him, Waylon knew exactly what he was doing and his grin grew to reveal practically all his teeth. He was Waylon Park to Bane’s Gluskin but apparently, he was the sadistic one. What an interesting reversal of characters. Croc couldn’t wait to see Bane’s resistance in doing something about him crack throughout the night. This was going to be fun.