#around chapter 27 if all goes well

[arctrooper69]

As Iron Sharpens Iron

"As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." Proverbs 27:17

Beta-read by @dragonrider9905

Chapter 12:

Previous // Next

Warnings: None

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This is already so much harder than Cid made it seem, you thought with a grunt as hills of gravelly rock slipped and slid beneath your feet.

The moon's perpetual dusky atmosphere made it nearly impossible to navigate the rough terrain without a headlamp.

And it's just my luck that this one is almost dead. The lamp flickered briefly but remained lit for the time being. At the rate you'd been replacing power packs on this thing, you weren't sure there'd be enough to last the journey back to the ship. The moon’s naturally emitted electromagnetic frequencies were not something Cid had mentioned.

No surprise there. Wonder what else she failed to mention.

You were glad Hunter wasn't here. This would be the death of him. You couldn't imagine the havoc it would wreak upon his enhanced senses - the pain it would cause him. Yet the sour taste of loneliness still faintly lingered, littering the background of all your thoughts.

A faint rumbling sound echoed across the rocky plain and you paused, listening. The strange, muted grumble became louder like the moon itself was warning you to leave and never come back.

Rocks began to quake as the ground rolled in a violent tremor.

“Well, that’s just wonderful…” you growled sarcastically. “Thanks for that!” you yelled out to no one, voice echoing strangely through the barren atmosphere.

The tremors subsided after a few minutes, though you waited a few more before starting out again.

You paused after a while, double checking the coordinates on your datapad. The screen flickered. It was a small inconvenience, yet one that landed precariously atop of so many others, drawing all the ire of pent up rage and hurt into one soul crushing cry of frustration that you’d been keeping down for so long.

“I hate this kriffing moon!”

You stopped, taking a few deep breaths.

Calm. Calm. You have a job to do.

The datapad screen blinked back on as you smacked the side of it with your hand.

Should be right around…. There.

The dimming light of the headlamp softly illuminated the entrance to a mine just ahead.

Here goes nothing.

You sighed, placing your bag on the ground before pulling out the necessary gear.

Grabbing the cable, you began to lower yourself down the dark, damp mineshaft. Without warning, another tremor rocked the ground again.

Stronger than the last, you noted, hoping that didn’t mean anything.

Another small quake sent a shower of dust and pebbles cascading down onto your face and hair. One arm let go of the cable, instinctively curling upwards to protect your face while the other held on with aching fingers, fighting how it swung wildly and out of control.

As if the vengeful moon had heard your angry cries, another rumble of the ground tore the cable from it’s resting place, pulling a terrified shriek from gasping lungs as you found yourself in a freefall, desperately clawing at the wall for any kind of stop.

Pain shot up through your shoulder as gloved fingers caught the edge of a protruding rock, dragging yourself to a more steady position, jamming your feet into crevasses in the wall.

Karking hells! You closed your eyes and let your head drop forwards to rest on the cool rock face where you clung, taking a moment to calm your screaming nerves.

You exhaled in disbelief, unsure of whether you should cry or laugh.

“Oh gods, this is not my day. This is really not my day.”

Whining to yourself, you looked down and realized you were nearly at the bottom.

Taking another breath, you pulled the cable from your belt and hooked it securely once again to the rock face, quickly gliding down the remainder of the mineshaft.

Damn. Absentmindedly stretching your sore shoulder, you crouched to place the pack onto the ground, hissing quietly as the action sent a shooting pain down your arm. You switched the headlamp off and waited for your eyes to adjust to the darkness. A dim light glimmered from a cavity in the wall on the other side of a small pool of bubbling water. They matched the description Cid provided on the jewels she’d tasked you with retrieving.

“Oh how convenient,” you scoffed, carefully scanning the area lest you be swallowed alive by some carnivorous rock or whatever else thrived in this hellhole of a moon. You chuckled dryly. That would be just my luck.

With trepidation, you stepped carefully over the small pool of water. Grabbing the small extraction tool you’d brought along, you sank down to your knees and began drilling at the glowing stones, counting each one as they popped free.

One… Two… Three… Four… Five… Six…

You stood back up, carefully placing the stones inside one of the many pouches that lined your belt, and turned around to head back. A wave of sudden exhaustion pulled a sigh from your lips as it washed over you. This place was definitely not one you’d be coming back to in a hurry.

Pausing before the bubbling pool of water, you took one last look around, but your gaze was drawn right back to the pool in front of you.

Weird. A strange feeling of unease crept into your bones and you shivered. Could’ve sworn it wasn’t that big when I stepped over it before. You shrugged, certain that your mind was only playing tricks on you because when you looked once more, it was the same size as it had been before.

“This place gives me the creeps,” you muttered, looking around suspiciously. You glared at the bubbling pool and took a running leap over it just to be safe.

It was almost as if someone had pulled a rug out from beneath your feet. The edge of the pool caught on the tip of your boot and you came crashing down, a cry of alarm turning into a cry of pain as your shoulder roughly met the ground. You scrambled forward with a gasp, pulling your foot from the water.

“Did you just….” you spoke aloud, voice saturated with an incredulous annoyance, “Did you just trip me!?”

The ground rumbled lowly once again.

“Great! I’m arguing with a kriffing moon,” you muttered, shaking your head.

You sighed, four days of solitude and you were already talking to inanimate objects.

Your boot squelched as you dumped out the water that filled it. I hate wet socks. You wiggled your toes glumly.

Wrecker would find this hilarious, you chuckled to yourself. What would the rest of them think of this place?

You smiled, thinking of how Tech would be cataloging each tremor and tectonic abnormality, looking at everything through that endearing lens of curiosity. Echo would be working on a way to combat the harsh electromagnetic frequencies for himself and Hunter. His steadfast attitude wouldn’t let himself give up until he tried every option. Omega would wander, collecting oddly shaped rocks and staring into the strange bubbling pools. And Hunter…

You sighed, picking yourself back up, best not to think about Hunter. But you couldn’t help it. Loneliness settled into your gut, you missed them.

No. You scolded yourself. You’re a grown adult. You have made it in this galaxy on your own before and you will do so again.

But being on your own was a lot different than being alone.

You took a deep breath, willing that forever-heavy emotion back behind the locked doors of practical reality. It wasn’t worth dwelling on thoughts that only brought you down, and it took skill to lock them all away so efficiently - a skill you knew you’d better relearn fast.

Unwilling to stay and reflect any longer, you shot the cable up and climbed out of the mine.

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[neiptune]

aot boys x guilty pleasures

a/n: this is me being self indulgent and having a lil fun so forgive the shitposting but also feedback is always appreciated mwah

eren loves the shit out of nature documentaries you'll leave him alone one saturday night and you'll come back to find him sprawled on the couch watching life of mammals or some shit on netflix lmao you'd be on a date and he'd get suddenly excited enough to hit you with random facts like “btw did you know that the average blood pressure of a giraffe is around 300/190?” he'd literally barge in rooms with a “babe omg hummingbirds are like the only birds that can fly backwards” and you'd just be sitting on the toilet with a very unimpressed look but he's cute 12/10 would make a good park ranger or whatever

armin is lowkey obsessed with youtubers like he legitimaly sits down and watches hours on end of unboxing/reaction videos or travel vlogs jfc and it's always the dumb stuff ya know like person x unboxing the same phone in 10 different colors or person y reacting to drake's new single and THAT controversial lyric. it's exhausting really he'd be in bed at 3am still going through chrissy's 27 min travel vlog about some bali vacation gone wrong and don't even get me started on drama and internal feuds or breakups oh my god he has a whole playlist of breaking my silence videos on youtube to keep track of who's said what so he can pick the best side

you've introduced jean to the world of fandoms and fanfiction and at first he was all like nah that's too weird but now he has his own ao3 account and eats the weirdest most hilarious shit up, will also use acquired terms in the wrongest way like you'd be watching bridgerton together and he'd suddenly nod to himself with a OOOO TRIGGER WARNING THEY BOUT TO FUCK lmao he's obsessed tbh his twitter is filled with commentary on random chapters he's screenshot and that I WILL GO DOWN WITH THIS SHIP titanic gif posted over and over again like no honey you will not we've moved past that 10 years ago

oh god connie is such a chronic playlist creator he'd have one for EVERYTHING and he genuinely spends hours selecting the perfect most appropriate songs and titles for each one, you best believe before you first started dating he's made one for you called “i like you idgaf about your boyfriend” which came with a weird ass mix of sweet stuff like just the way you are by bruno mars and cash shit by megan thee stallion lmaooo he's so random he thinks he's good at it too and you don't have the heart to tell him that “get down dirty bedroom sexy lapdance music” ain't a good title. it's kinda attractive that he's not a music snob tho like he'd be blasting country music classics while cooking, rap mixtapes when he's taking a shower or full on broadway showtunes when driving, he also has a cute voice that cracks on higher notes but it secretly turns you on how deep in the moment he is while screaming to defying gravity in the car

levi gets a weird kick out of serial killer documentaries or real footage of their interviews/trials, also listens to A LOT of true crime podcasts and TAKES NOTES about the most interesting cases to check if he'd be able to solve the unsolved ones and he'd always test you as well? you'd be reading a book in bed and he'd plop next to you with a dead serious look on his face asking shit like “would you help some random guy with a cast on his arm carry his bags?” 🤨 out of the blue like ?????? baby that's kinda weird can you not but it's really just him trying to flex his big big brain thank fuck he's not an actual cop he'd be insufferable (and way less hot)

to absolutely no one's surprise reiner's guilty pleasure has to do with you, the man's all about you (and hockey), you've asked him to take a bath with you once and now not a single motherfucking week goes by without him looking at you big big puppy eyes asking “bath???” most evenings after work. it doesn't even have to lead to anything he's just content basking in warm water and bubbles with you in his lap, he gets to massage shampoo into your scalp if you want to wash your hair and is now a pro at creating the perfect atmosphere with oils and dimmed lights and omg don't even get me started on candles, he's memorized your favorite scents and now also has his own preferences, catch him walking around a yankee candle store at least twice a month, girls working there ask this big scary grumpy guy if he needs help and he'd reply with the softest most polite & specific hi hello yes actually i need to stock up on sparkling cinnamon and snow globe wonderland tyvm

porco 100% checks his naked self out in the mirror lmaooo i know this shouldn't count as something people wouldn't believe he'd do but it's kinda a guilty pleasure i guess??? he finds putting clothes on a lil depressing and knows he's hot. sometimes you'd catch him doing that after showering and the man would be so fucking thirsty for compliments cause what is he supposed to do with muscles and abs and prominent biceps if you won't drool over them a little? he's annoying & also gets soooo whiny if you don't indulge him like :( do you not think your dashing boyfriend is cute :( while flexing, also always tries to convince you to take your clothes off as well for “inspection purposes” to which you simply flick his forehead lol whether you end up pressed against that very mirror 10 minutes later it's between you and him xoxo

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

It’s gone midnight and I’m thinking about Six of Crows so y’all know what that means: it’s time for a long rambling thought process that will hopefully have some interesting insights into the books in it.

I want to talk about the animal, mostly bird, symbolism of these books because although it’s obviously something we’re very aware of I also think it’s something that runs a lot deeper than we necessarily always realise/talk about. Even when people aren’t being directly involved in bird metaphors (crows, pigeons, peacocks) they are often described as “squawking”, “flapping”, or with other phrases that further this semantic field.

Now the crows is obviously the main source of the symbolism, and it’s openly talked about in the book with the speech on how the recognise human faces and how they support each other. I’ve also seen a few people online talking about the Crows in conjunction with a poem/nursery rhyme about crows (it’s one of those that has many different versions spun of it, some know it was counting magpies rather than crows) wherein 6 crows symbolises gold, of course greatly linked to the plot of the novels as well as their anti-extreme capitalism message. It’s also key to mention that crows are massively underestimated birds in the general public view; they’re far ‘smarter’ animals than we would typically expect. Crows have a very high brain to body mass ratio, I believe the highest of any birds but don’t quote me on that, and although we understand very little about the brain the size ratio is currently considered a very good indicator for the general intelligence level of the animal. Crows can make tools, hide their food, mate for life, and - VERY interestingly for this book analysis - have even been suspected to hold funerals. Now I want to be clear I’m working on a mix of random knowledge and the first helpful looking website that came up when I googled ‘fun facts about crows’ so I am by no means an expert here, but to my understanding the practice that was initially considered to be a ‘crow funeral’ is actually a process wherein crows will gather around a dead crow to look for potential danger. So I feel like the links I’m establishing here are relatively obvious, the point is that, like the birds themselves, the Crows are undervalued, underestimated, and unexpectedly successful. But the symbol of the crow in these books arguably goes even further.

The crow-headed handle of Kaz’s cane represents everything about the crow I’ve already mentioned on top of his own symbolic layering to the cane as a sign that no part of him has not been broken, and no part him is not better for having been broken. So in Chapter 27 of Crooked Kingdom, when Kaz returns to the Slat and fights the Dregs before leading a coup against Per Haskell, the cane with the fake crow’s head that Haskell has contrived to mock him effectively represents the failing of everything the Dregs represent. They’re last, the remnants, the people with nowhere else to go: they are the people who have been broken and have made something new for themselves. Except Haskell. So the sheer ridiculousness of him mocking Kaz’s cane, something he clearly thought would win him favour and success, in the end becomes one of the biggest aspects of his downfall. Inej describes the moment when the Dregs begin to support Kaz, the way the look at Per Haskell with discomfort - “the feathers in his hat, the canes in his hands” (and then she goes on to highlight how they’ve seen Kaz use his cane in fights, “wielded with such precision”, whereas Haskell is washed-up, pathetic, never could have taken the fight Kaz did and walked out the other side). Of course they realise, then, how completely and utterly wrong all of this was. Because when they’re confronted with both of those canes they realise something. They know what Kaz’s cane represents; it’s power and strength in spite of a world that has that has scorned him, it’s taking something that was broken and not fixing it but emphasising it and making it into a threat, into a symbol, into a strength. They know that, even though they don’t know what happens in Kaz’s head, because they see themselves in that. The Dregs; the literal bottom of the Barrel, who have been broken and who have clawed their way to survival. They cannot see themselves in Haskell’s mockery cane. Haskell is not a man who reflects what the Dregs are at their core, but Kaz is. The emphasis on the feathers is also really interesting, because I think it’s implying a sort of gaudy, colourful feathering that (despite fitting in with the style of the Barrel) does not represent the symbol of the crow; it is not something shadowed, something half hidden that could have an unexpected bite. It’s almost more akin to Heleen’s gaudy peacock feathers than it is to anything the Dregs understand, or represent through being Crows.

The pigeons I don’t really see anyone talking about, but I think it’s pretty interesting. The idea of ‘the pigeon’ is the same as ‘the mark’; they’re the victim, the fool who’s easy to swindle. I think the imagery of the fools being pigeons, ie being everywhere and massively populating big cities, is really clever to show a divide between the few, the Crows, and the many, the pigeons. However, it’s not only the Crows who remark on others being ‘pigeons’, but other gangs as well. When Kaz confronts Pekka about the scam he ran on him and Jordie, he says “you were just two pigeons, and I happened to be the one who plucked you”. I’m not gonna lie to you guys I’m losing my point slightly, but I just googled ‘crows and pigeons’ and the first thing that came up was about how crows sometimes eat pigeons so I reckon that’s pretty relevant.

Ok I’m really tired and I feel like I’m clutching at straws here, so I dunno I guess if this does well then I’ll cover peacocks, lions, and the general semantic field of birds in another post. I hope at least some of this made sense, thanks for reading it if you bothered to get this far

[turtletaubwrites]

Slipping Away ~ Part 27

This is part 27 of the poly series 'We've All Got Needs,' linked below:

Pairings: Zoro x Fem!Reader, Sanji x Fem!Reader x Robin

Word Count: 4261

We've All Got Needs Masterlist

Ao3 Link (Ch. 17 of We've All Got Needs cont.)

!!SPOILER WARNING!! Spoilers for the anime for the Water 7/Enies Lobby arc (through episode 307).

Summary: More dangers block your path as the Straw Hats keep pushing to free Robin. Help arrives in unexpected ways.

Rating/Warnings: AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Polyamory, Canon Typical Violence, Blood, Injuries, (Including Reader), Pet Names, Cigarettes (they're gross, don't smoke), Swearing, Angst, Fear, Heights, Nausea, Throwing Up (just heaving, nothing comes out), Drowning, Reader is not doing great, Dizziness, Explosions, Fear of Death, Hurt/Comfort

A/N: Hi y'all, I'm so sorry about the wait! These chapters following the arc have been taking me longer, and I got distracted with other stories/requests. But I'm here now! The next update will be out within a week, as well as an extra scene. Thank you so much for being patient with me 🙏🏼🖤

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

Blood splattered on the ground as Usopp dragged himself to all fours, his wrecked body stiff, yet shaking.

“I’m sorry, Sanji,” he coughed, more blood spreading around him. “I tried, but I couldn’t…”

A silent sob left your throat as Nami struggled to guide your pathetic, limp body. Your limbs were dead after clinging for your life for so long, and you hated that you couldn’t help Usopp off the ground.

“You’re alive, that’s what matters,” Sanji declared, his voice rough with emotion. Water dripped from his blonde hair as his eyes flicked to you for a moment, before comforting your friend. “Everyone has things that they can do and things that they can’t.”

The lump in your throat did not help to reduce your frustration at your uselessness. 

“Yeah, but,” Usopp mumbled, the wobble in his voice like a punch to the gut.

“Look outside,” Sanji commanded, Pointing through the gaping hole in the stone wall. The sight of those massive gates fell like a weight on your heart. A weight that stole your breath as it started to open, the huge metal slabs moving slowly, but not slowly enough.

“Robin,” Nami whispered, saying the name that you couldn’t with your dry throat.

“If those gates open up, and Robin goes through them,” Sanji warned, “we won’t have any way to follow her. She’ll cross waters infested with sea kings, then there’s the undersea prison, or the navy headquarters. Everywhere on the other side of those gates is beyond our reach. We’ll lose her forever.”

Sanji came to you, taking you from Nami’s arms to hold you against him for a moment. Your feet were getting a bit steadier, but his warmth was too much. You wanted to push him away as he kissed your temple, the tenderness shoving you closer to that edge of falling to pieces. 

“This is the worst situation, but in every situation, even one as bad as this, there’s always a chance,” he comforted, his eyes on Usopp as he helped you step toward Nami. 

She handed you her Clima-Tact, giving up her weapon for you to use as a makeshift cane before she pulled Usopp to his feet. His blood stained her clothes as she supported some of his weight with his bandaged arm around her shoulders. 

Sanji leaned in close to the sniper, reaching to touch his shoulder, but let his hand fall before gripping the wounded flesh.

“I'm gonna stay here, and do what you can’t do. We’ll get those keys. You need to do what I can’t do.”

“Huh,” Usopp questioned, head tilting toward the cook. 

“Think carefully, read the situation,” Sanji commanded, his rough voice giving you chills as the wolf man stalked ever closer. “As long as we have you there’s still a chance we can save Robin. You hear me, Usopp?”

Your bloodied friend started shaking, his question interrupted by a howl. 

You heard the metal slash of blades as Zoro battled the giraffe man, and in an instant the wolf was on Sanji, your lover yelling for you to leave as he blocked the attack.

“Come on, we gotta go,” Nami ordered with a grunt, fighting Usopp’s struggle to call for Sanji.

“Ow, Nami,” he complained as she yanked at him, “I’m still injured.”

“Well, staying here and getting killed will hurt more,” she scolded, their stumbling forms moving past you. 

Your boys. Teetering with the Clima-Tact, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from their fights. Battling agents of CP9, devil fruit users.

Blood, and broken stone, and hits that made you cringe.

Robin.

They can win. We need to save her. 

Your movements were agonizingly slow, the makeshift cane slipping in your hands. Wiping your blood and dust stained palms on your shirt, you gritted your teeth, following Nami and Usopp out into the center stairway of the tower as fast as you could manage. 

The trek down the stairs had barely started when Usopp pulled away from Nami. He was limping, but practically buzzing with a manic gleam in his eyes.

“I get it!”

“Get what,” you called as he started rushing back up the stairs. 

“We can save Robin. As long as I’m here we can save her, damnit,” he declared with more true confidence than you’d ever heard from him before. Chills ran along your skin as the wounded sniper turned to face you, issuing a command that you had to follow. 

“Let’s go!”

Nami took her weapon back, offering you her shoulder as Usopp’s burst of energy sent him scampering away faster than you could have gone on your own.

“Fuck, I’m slowing you down,” you hissed, fighting for your body to move, your head still reeling from that antler ride you’d like to forget.

“Didn’t you hear Sanji’s speech,” Nami scolded, supporting your sluggish steps. “We’re a crew, Y/N. Helping each other is what we do, stupid.”

Her comforting words pulled a small smile from your lips that was quashed almost immediately as you struggled up the endless stairs. Usopp’s cheerful yells pushed you forward, and your legs were slowly feeling steadier. It seemed your headache was the biggest issue, dizziness staying with you as your limbs relearned how to function. 

Stepping into the sun was brutal. The light gray stone of the tower almost glowed beneath your feet, and you pulled away from Nami to cover your eyes from the glare. She wrapped your hand around her weapon again, moving ahead of you to watch Usopp at the edge.

You couldn’t get too close as your new fear of heights started closing your throat, so you stayed back. The bridge cut across the water in the distance, leading toward that now open gate, those massive metal doors like a gate to hell.

A hell that Robin was being dragged toward. 

“I see her,” Usopp cried out, prepping his new weapon. With Kabuto held in front of him, and his broken mask still showing rays around his face, Usopp's shadow really did look like some mythical warrior.

Nami took your free hand, inching you closer, but you had to take it back. Holding it above your eyes to cut the glare, you stared at the bridge, desperate to see her.

You saw people. Very small people. Marines in white moving across the bridge.

“Watch this,” Usopp commanded, humming his silly Sniper King song as he lined up his shot.

An urge to stop him tore through you. It was too far away, how could he see her, let alone aim to ensure she wouldn’t be hit?

But he was your friend, even if he wasn’t part of your crew anymore. You trusted him, but still held your breath.

Then you saw her. 

Two of those figures weren’t in white. One charged across the stone in a billowing, dark cloak. The other was in gleaming black, being dragged along the ground by the first.

This pathetic fucking man child. This scumbag that already didn’t deserve to open his stupid mouth again.

Spandam was dragging Robin behind him like she was trash. You wanted to rip his mask off, and smash his stupid mouth into the stone until he choked on his teeth. 

“Get him,” you growled.

“On it.”

The terror of waiting was replaced with pride and sick pleasure at the sight of that small, cloaked figure being blown away from Robin. You hoped that the smoke erupting around his head was enough to strangle the air from his lungs. 

Usopp hit him again, Spandam’s body flying down the steps of the bridge. And the sniper didn’t stop, sending blast after blast as those marines in white scattered, their shouts carrying across the water. 

Without meaning to, your voice joined Nami’s, cheering for Usopp as he wreaked havoc on your enemies. The praise seemed to set him on fire, his shots flying faster, laughter on his lips, singing his song while he blew them away. 

“Look,” Nami yelled, pointing toward that figure in black. 

Robin had broken away from the chaos, and was stumbling as she ran away from that gate. Toward you.

“Usopp!”

You cried out, ice filling your veins while the marines stood in a line as they faced her. It was hard to see clearly, especially with your head still pounding, but you knew what those movements meant. 

They were going to shoot her down.

Usopp kept shooting, but there were too many. There was no way he could take them all down in time. 

The three of you screamed for her as she fell to her knees.

You couldn’t look. You couldn’t look away. You could only scream her name, and hope that she heard you. That she knew she wasn't alone. 

The moment before the shots were fired lasted a century. A century in which you were trapped in stone, forced to watch and wait, helpless again. 

Your eyes almost shut when the sound of death exploded from that line of guns. But if they had, you wouldn’t have seen it. The moment that filled you with more forgiveness and gratitude than you’d ever felt before. 

Franky. 

The man whose family had stolen from your crew, who’d hurt Usopp. The pervy cyborg whose family was now fighting at your side. 

This strange man that you barely knew was standing in front of Robin, shielding her from the marines. He held his arms out, and took every single bullet that was meant for your love. For Robin.

“Hey! Sniper King? Needy?”

Zoro’s voice called up from what sounded like not too far down, but you couldn’t stick your head over the ledge to find out. 

“We’ve got the rest of the keys. Catch, and send them to Franky,” Sanji commanded as your eyes returned to the bridge. Franky was still standing, still protecting her.

“Can you do that, Sniper King,” Sanji questioned, his voice filled with his belief in your former crewmate. 

“Of course! Just throw the–”

“Catch,” Zoro yelled before a tied up bit of cloth came flying in front of Usopp.

Usopp caught it easily, tossing it in his hand.

“There’s more than keys in this.”

Usopp made you even dizzier as he leaned over to question the boys. 

“We stole a snail off an agent,” Sanji’s voice carried up “You still have one right?”

“Yes,” you choked out, confirming that it had survived the monster ride with you.

“Fucking shoot it already,” Zoro yelled.

Nami untied the bundle in Usopp’s hand, adding the remaining keys before securing it, nodding at the sniper.

Everyone was silent as he aimed. This shot would mean her freedom.

“Franky! Robin!”

You were shouting in the poor snail’s face, until Franky turned to pick up that tied up cloth.

“Robin!”

“Y/N?”

“Oh gods, Robin,” you sighed through your tears. 

Nami took the snail from your shaky fingers as she smoothed her hand along your back. 

“All the keys are in the bundle. Franky, please unlock her!”

“Got it, but how did y’all–”

“Thank you, long-nose,” Robin interrupted. There was joy in her voice. Joy.  “That was wonderful.”

“It was the least I could do,” Usopp declared in that silly, pompous voice. If he wasn’t so close to the edge of the building, you would have hugged him. “The true heroes are those who fought to retrieve those keys from the enemy. The Straw Hats will be proud to have you back. Hold your head up high, and meet them with a smile when all of this has ended.” 

“Right,” Robin agreed, and even from a distance, you could see when she was freed. She stretched her arms above her head before pulling them down in front of her, and you knew exactly what was coming next.

“Seis Fleur.”

That powerful voice echoed through the transponder snail, just as a cloaked figure made its way to the front of the marines. 

“I’ve been waiting a long time to do this,” Robin purred, arms sprouting from his dark clothes as she smacked the shit out of Spandam.

“Fuck yeah,” you cheered, hearing the cacophony of slaps, and the whimpering cries of that sniveling piece of shit. 

The remaining marines scattered, rightfully fleeing in terror from her power. 

“Alright, let’s move,” Franky ordered with a laugh. “Get your asses over here. I’ll get everything ready for ya. We’re gonna bail.”

“Got it,” Nami agreed, storing the snail while Usopp called down.

“Did you guys hear that? Robin’s free, Franky says–”

“Get down here already, Sniper King,” Sanji yelled. 

You were squeezing the sides of your head, trying to relieve some of the pressure. The relief poured through your body, but almost made you feel more off balance. 

“Ha, everything went according to my plan,” Usopp hummed as he limped toward the stairs. He stopped abruptly, making Nami grumble as she almost ran into him. 

“What’s that,” he wondered, almost under his breath. “I swear I heard something.”

“Come on, we’ve gotta–”

Nami’s demand was cut short, all of you hunching and covering your ears as an explosion went off. It was easy to spot, a huge plume of black smoke rising from the metal fence surrounding the island. A marine ship firing on it’s own base. 

“These psychos are really going to destroy their own fucking island, and kill all their own people because some dumbass pushed a button,” you seethed, hearing the boys calling for you. 

Nausea rose as you neared that ledge again. 

“Things have gotten serious, Needy,” Zoro urged, making you bravely peek down at him on the balcony below while Nami held your hand. “Hurry up, and jump down from there. We need to go now.”

“Jump,” you choked, glad that Usopp cut in to be cowardly for you.

“Is that supposed to be a joke? I don’t have the same kind of freakish superhuman strength that you guys have, alright. And my bravery is not the life risking kind. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a normal super hero not a super super hero–”

“Don’t be babies,” Nami teased. “We’re almost home.”

Nami called down before leaping off the edge. 

“I’m fine,” she shouted as you looked over to see Sanji setting her down on her feet. “Come on, it was fu–”

At first you thought your body was fucking with you, all the looking down bringing that terror up. The crushing sound, the slipping of your unsteady feet, until there was nothing. Nothing holding you, nothing touching you, just you hanging onto the Clima-Tact as you spun. 

The rough scrape of broken stone flying across your legs tore your eyes open, but you closed them immediately. 

All that clinging, all that hell you went through to keep yourself from falling, and now you were falling to your death.

At least you got to hear your boys one last time, your name screamed from their lips.

It wasn’t stone.

The dreaded moment of impact came, along with the deep groan of whoever had caught you. 

“Needy, are you–”

“putmedownputmedown.”

The Clima-Tact clattered to the stone of the balcony, and the top of the tower finished crashing to the ground while you fought to crawl away. Zoro’s warm hands were just another sensation too many. 

But those hands held your hair back while you tried to throw up, soft voices floating around you as your head fought to split open. You whimpered as nothing came out, just spinning nausea, and your memory failing you as you tried to recall the last time you ate. 

“Hey, you’re okay,” he soothed, pulling you against his chest after your empty retches had turned into frantic breaths. “We have to go now, Needy.”

As he pulled you to your feet, Nami was there, rubbing your arm as she checked on you. She offered you her weapon, but Zoro shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Needy, but we need to go faster than you can walk. Do you want me to carry you in my arms, or do you wanna ride on my back?”

Nausea rolled in at the thought, but you bit the inside of your cheek, motioning for his back. You saw Sanji and Usopp having the same debate, Usopp wincing as he moved. 

“If you hadn’t torn my bandages–”

“If I hadn’t caught you, we would have had sniper crepes for lunch. Just get on,” Sanji demanded, until the five of you moved on three sets of feet. 

Down those endless stairs, the sky burned through the roof that was no longer there. The rhythmic bouncing of Zoro’s body had you clenching your teeth, closing your eyes to fight the spinning.

I’m going to be dizzy for the rest of my life.

If we survive.

You only knew that you had made it to the bottom as the downward falling motion of Zoro’s steps on the stairs shifted to a steady up and down that was still just as bad.

“Please don’t ever pick me up after this, you groaned against Zoro’s shoulder. “I don’t want to be carried anymore. Ever.”

His chuckle was cut short as a familiar voice called out. 

“This way, kiddies,” Kokoro ordered, and you opened your eyes just a bit to see her pointing down a dark corridor. Chopper was back in his normal, small form, his mouth hanging open in sleep as she had him strapped to her hip like some living purse.

“This leads to the bridge, come on!”

There was no time to argue or question. Just heavy steps echoing down the stone hallway that seemed to get colder with every step the swordsman took. 

“Try to pick up the pace, we’re in a hurry here,” Usopp rushed over Sanji’s shoulder.

“I could probably run faster if you were unconscious,” your cook threatened, and you were shocked to feel a weak smile on your lips. 

“How could you talk to your hero that way? Especially when I've been so seriously injured in the line of duty. All six of my ribs are broken!”

“You have more ribs than that,” Zoro huffed, pulling up beside them, “but if you don’t shut up, we’ll break the rest, and make you run. Got it?”

You smiled at Usopp from your carried positions as he kept complaining. Slowly, the feeling of a hammer hitting your brain was starting to lessen.

Not distant enough explosions had you tightening your body around Zoro’s back. 

“We’re almost out.”

His whispered comfort almost sunk in.

“What’s that?”

“I hear something weird down the tunnel.”

Usopp and Nami had spoken at once. The group stared down that cold corridor as you kept heading toward freedom. 

“We don’t have time to go worrying about weird sounds. We’ve gotta make those government jerks pay,” Kokoro said with a cough, still sounding drunk as if she’d been at the bar while you all fought for your lives. 

“Is that–”

“It’s water,” Usopp cried out, cutting Nami off. “Don’t you hear it? We need to run!”

No one stopped. You couldn’t hear anything over the rhythmic slap of feet against stone, and Zoro’s heavy breaths as you rested your head against him.

“We have to turn–”

“We’ve got nowhere else to go,” Sanji huffed, “we need to keep moving no matter–”

“Holy shit,” Nami cursed beside you, her voice breathy as everyone stopped running.

“Hang on, Needy.”

You cracked your eyes open, the horrifying sight matching the sound you could finally hear.

Water. 

Zoro slashed at the stone wall, but even his swords couldn’t break through. 

“We’re underwater, dumbass,” Sanji spat as the group started running the other way.

Running for your lives. 

The stone walls made that rushing sound echo, surrounding you even before the cold death touched your skin.

“I’ve got you,” Zoro promised through gritted teeth while he sprinted ahead.

As he passed your friends, you saw the terror burning through them, sweat dripping from their faces. 

Your mind went hazy, just a little outside of your body as yet another chaotic force threatened those you loved. 

Zoro flipped around as the sound roared too close, gripping your knees against his waist as he took the brunt of that liquid force.

You wished you had stayed dissociated, stayed out of your freezing body. Zoro’s rapid turn had shaken you enough that you took a deep breath, but it took every scrap of energy in you to keep your mouth closed, to not scream into that watery void.

Slipping, slipping away. The spinning torture through the rapid water had you reaching for your aching head, releasing your hold around his shoulders.

Zoro never let go. His hold started to slip, but he clamped down on your legs until they ached.

At least we’ll die together.

Your tears never had a chance, they just mixed with the wave that would drown you all. 

“It’s alright. Just hang in there. I’m not going to let you die.”

A soothing voice washed over you, clear and calm through the flood. All you could do was fight to keep your mouth closed, letting yourself drift to wherever you might end up. 

But something pulled at you, interrupting that chaotic drift. Your eyes opened, but the water burned, the world nothing more than a painful blur. Something had snared you, tugging you closer to Zoro, and you could feel another wriggling body against your side. 

At least we’re all together. 

“I’m swimming as fast as this tail will let me! None of you are gonna die on my watch!”

Kokoro’s voice carried through the water, and you almost cried out, managing to clamp your hands over your lips as the bodies around you seemed to writhe against the shock. 

What the fuck?

But it was too long. You couldn’t hold it. 

The choking pain tore through your chest, the struggle to stay finally fading. 

Just cold.

“Y/N! Y/N!”

Too many hands rolled you onto your side as scorching water tore through your throat. 

Your stinging eyes watched the water that left your lungs as it spread across wood, staining the black clothes of the person holding your hair back.

The person whose many hands held your body, whose voice cracked as she repeated your name. 

“Robin?”

She let out a cry of relief, pulling your body gently as she held you against her chest. 

“Is this real,” you breathed, managing to move your arms to wrap around her.

“It’s real. You saved me.”

You felt the warmth of her cheek against your temple, and if you’d had the energy, you would have wept.

“I didn’t do–” 

“You came for me, Y/N. And you saved me,” Robin countered before you could finish your thought. Many arms held you up so that she could look at you, and tears managed to fall from your tired eyes at the sight of her beautiful face. Stunning, even marred with dirt and blood. 

“I love you too,” she confessed, a wave of fear filling those eyes before she cried it away, laughing before she kissed your cold lips.

It didn’t matter where you were, or how much danger you were still in. Robin was holding you, kissing you. The two of you laughed and sobbed as voices moved around you, orbiting your perfect world. 

“Sweethearts, are you okay?”

Sanji’s rough voice moved closer, and you finally looked around to find yourself on a ship. An empty marine ship, whose deck was covered with your crew, and all the water they’d ripped from their lungs. 

Your cook crawled over, seeming hesitant to get too close. 

Robin reached out, and you smiled at that sweet look of awe on Sanji’s face as he gazed at her. 

“I–”

“I love you, Robin,” Sanji cut her off, racing to touch both of you, a gentle hand on your cheeks. 

“I love you too, Sanji,” she said with a laugh, and your heart melted as they shared their own salty kiss. 

Cannon fire and shouting were distant as the three of you held each other, laughter and tears like a shield from the danger that remained. 

But it wasn’t complete. 

A shiver ran up your neck, a warm vibration pulling your eyes away from Robin and Sanji. 

Zoro sat with his back against the railing, giving you a small smile as you caught him staring. He shook his head when you held out your hand. 

A frown pulled at your smiling lips as he mouthed, ‘it’s okay,’ nodding his head toward your other lovers.

“Please,” you whispered, hoping he could see how much you wanted him too. 

How much you needed him. 

He coughed, wiping more water from his brow before he crawled across the deck.

You and Robin clung to each other, laughter and tears still spilling from you. Sanji poured out streams of praise and words of love as he hugged you both from behind Robin’s back.  

Your swordsman came to you, and his soaked body warmed yours as he wrapped his arms around you. He joined the group embrace without flinching away, pressing a wet kiss against your shoulder.

It was all worth it. You’d go through all of that again, just to have this perfect moment. 

All of your lovers holding you close. Safe, if only for the moment. 

All of your crew on this stolen ship, ready to escape this hell.

All of your…

Zoro’s body went rigid, leaving you cold again as he leapt to his feet. 

His words cut through it all. No more laughter or tears could be freed until his question had an answer.

“Where’s Luffy?”

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: I love them all so much 😭😭😭

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Part 28

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

[cressthebest]

Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 33

chapter 52:

1. why is the title “boggarts” …. i’m so worried

2. dorcas just put lucius in his place 😌

3. 😐 laser eyes at mcgonagall. i know why she’s doing it, but this boggart is pissing me off

4. nothing is a more powerful motivator than wanting to beat your siblings

5. NOOOoooo ELI! NO! i had hopes he’d last till the escape

6. once again, making connections. the horcrux hornet venom is like the cruciatus curse

7. that boggart to marlene was CRUEL

8. omg that boggart is getting worse. pulled out vanity and hodge. imma catch hands with someone

9. 😦 if marlene doesn’t make it out of the maze i’m gonna fucking lose it

10. “Like the person [Sirius] fought in his last games where he quite literally bit their finger off. A whole finger. Blood and muscle and bone. He bit right through and spit it out. Didn't choke, didn't gag, didn't even slow down.”

😦😦 also canon peter pettigrew reference!!

11. NARCISSA!! MY GIRL!! she has to make it out plsss

12. reg saved marlene ☺️☺️☺️

13. 😐 i am not amused by the james boggart at all

14. i am in fact PISSED at the james boggart

15. james boggart dying and regulus crying like he never has before has me SOBBING

16. james is both upset that reg thinks he’s dead, and so so pleased that he’s loved so intensely. and i- yeah. yeah, he’s right about that one, i’m afraid

17. reg even in his head is so casually like ☺️☺️ my fiancé

18. shit SHIT NO!! AUGUSTA!!

19. the augusta and alice scene is HEARTBREAKING and the fact that frank has to watch and can only touch the screen and AAAAHHH

20. “Now, this—oh, this is fucking brutal, and Sirius relishes in it.”

that fight with bellatrix was long coming yet i’m so scared for it

21. bellatrix has a spear and literally all sirius thinks is “Well, great. Just great. There she goes, and—yep, she has it. Lovely.” 😭😭😭 he sounds so british like “pip pip how unfortunate”

22. 😧 bellatrix admitted to having attempted to murder sirius by pushing him down the stairs. yo, i don’t think that’s how you treat a kid

23. holy shit holy shit, sirius just caught the spear as it was thrown at him. bro that’s wild

24. … um wtf. actually. sirius got pulled into the hedge and the cannon sounds. but like… pov??

25. nobody listens to reg. like my man was literally like “if you kill sirius, i kill you” and yet they’re somehow surprised when he kills them

26. “Regulus' very sense of identity is stamped with Sirius' signature. He is who he is because of Sirius, and he can never be anything else, and he doesn't even really want to be.”

um actually that’s the sound of my heart shattering into a million and one pieces

27. reg: I THOUGHT YOU DIED??

sirius: lmao no?

28. “"I'm not scared of anything," Regulus croaks, because he is scared of too many things to even count, because is scared of everything and everything itself.”

this is sad but like so so so relatable of him

29. when augusta dies and frank breaks down sobbing around everyone, i’m so fucking pissed that he had to witness that, that others had to witness his breakdown, and that he’s in the position of knowing she was in the arena for him. i’m so angry at riddle

30. fuck YEAH james is about to get recruited. thank fucking god

[wandafiction]

Just Add 8 - Just Us Chapter 7

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1947

Series List | Chapter 6 | Chapter 8

================================

"Wait, how old are you?!" 

Ding. The bell of the elevator goes off informing the two of us that we have made it to the parking garage, so instead of answering her I place my right hand at the small of her back leading her out. Quietly, I lead her to the car I will be taking her home in. This is one of my least expensive cars, I don't think Wanda would appreciate driving around New York in anything too expensive, so the Mazda Mx-5 will do. I do love this car though. I open the passenger door for her, making sure she is in before shutting the door and getting in the driver's side. I keep the hard top up because it is raining outside, so the roof will most definitely be staying up. 

"How old do you think I am Wanda?" I break the silence I created, trying to decide whether I tell her or gauge what she thinks.

"Well now I think you're younger than I thought so you might take that as offensive." She fiddles with her fingers slightly looking down at her lap, as I start to car a gentle purr can be heard from the engine.

"I won't be offended, I promise. So how old did you think I was and why?" I pull out of the parking garage joining the morning rush of cars on the road. Traffic, gotta love it. 

"Well I think maybe it was the suit, the hair and the makeup. But also maybe it was the way you presented yourself, very certain and very mature. Also you drink whisky like an old man." I laugh at her last reason.

"That's why. What about the how?" I glance at her for a few seconds while sitting at a red light. 

"I would say mid to late 20s?" Her pitch in voice getting higher at the end, now very unsure of herself. 

"So like around 27, 28. That sort of age?" 

"Yeah. However, now that I'm seeing you in everyday clothes, your hair in a loose bun and little to no makeup, you do look younger than that. I don't know what it is, just seeing you all relaxed makes you look, I don't know...not so big?" She clicks her fingers a few times trying to think of the right words. "I mean you're tall, very mature, you seem to be certain of yourself, but you seem to have a childlike look when you're relaxed. No offence."

"Non taken."

"Wait, you're not a minor right?! You're not THAT young...right?" Wanda panics suddenly when she thinks about her last statement. 

I place my hand gently on her thigh, keeping my eye on the road ahead. "I'm not a minor Wanda, do not panic."

"Fucking hell, I scared myself for a second." She rubs the back of her hand against her forehead, calming herself down.

"Well I'm not a minor so nothing to worry about…" I look at the road ahead and realise I have no idea where I'm going, we have just been driving around New York. "Changing the subject real quick. Where am I going?" 

"Oh right. Do you mind if I input it into the GPS?" I wave my hand towards the touch screen in the car, so she leans forwards fiddling with it to set the destination.

"So now you know I'm not a minor, and that I'm also not in my late 20s. Any idea?" She leans back in her chair turning her body to face me, her eyes scanning me from head to toe trying to make an estimation.

"Can you not just tell me. Pretty pwease." Ah, that was so cute! She changed her voice to sound like a child pronouncing please. Now I can't deny her.

"So how old are the twins again?" 

"14. Why?" 

"Okay add 8 on to that." 

"22." She takes a second. "You're 22?! 22! 22! You're 22? Holy shit. I slept with someone 11 years younger than me." 

"Okay Wanda you're freaking out. Is it a bad thing." I'm kind of unsure of her reaction, I can't get a good reading of her emotions.

"No, no. Oh god no. Sorry. No." And now she can't string a sentence together, great. I peer over at her as I pull into her road only a few minutes away from where she lives. "No, it's not a bad thing at all y/n. Not a bad thing. Just a big surprise that's all. I mean I think the fact that you're only 8 year older than the boys made it sound worse." 

"Okay, so don't tell people how old you are by comparing your age with their children. Lesson learned." That earns a laugh from her and smacks on the arms. As she seems to calm down, I only just register what she said about your age. "So you're 33?" 

"I am." I have a smug smile on my face. "Why the smug look?"

"Because after the whole picture in the elevator, I figured you were about 32."

"Oh so you're smug because you didn't completely misjudge my age."

"Exactly." 

"You're hilarious really." She looks out the window as we pull up to an apartment complex, Wanda goes all shy again. "Well this is me, uhm. If you just want to pull in next to my car, the red one, I will hop out." 

"Okay sure thing. Do you want me to walk you to your door, or will the twins question my presence." I give her shoulder a nudge so she knows I'm only mentioning the twins in jest, don't freak her out y/n she has already had a few of those today. 

"No, the twins are actually at their dad's this week and the next." So I might get to see more of her, that's nice. "So no I wouldn't mind you walking me to my door." 

I nod, getting out of the car making my way around to her side opening the door for her. Being the gentlewoman I am, I offer her a hand as well to help her out. Wanda smiles up at me, turning to close the door gently, continuing to hold my hand as she leads me up the stairs into the complex. It doesn't take long to stop in front of her door: apartment 10. 

"So this is me. Can I see you again?" She moves her free hand to my free hand, now holding our hands in between us as I rub my thumbs across the back of her hand.

"You have my number, I would like to see you again Wanda. I enjoyed your company, not just last night but this morning too. Like I said, you have my number so you decide if you want to use it. I won't be offended, that much, if you don't." A smile down at her while she squeezes my hands gently. God I want her to use my number.

"I will use your number, but I am having a girls night, with Sharon, Nat and her sister Yelena so it probably won't be until tomorrow or something." 

"Well I look forward to it." She beams up at me, shuffling on her feet slightly as her fingers intertwine in-between mine alternating between standing on her toes to her heels. "What do you want to ask?" 

"Just. Can I kiss you?" Wanda asks sweetly, my heart practically skips a beat and the butterflies in my stomach seem to be very lively. 

"You can, you don't have to ask to kiss me." 

Wanda pulls our hands around her back, keeping her hands locked with mine, stepping up on her tiptoes; and leaning her head back puckering up her lips as her eyes stare intensely into mine. Only now do I see how green they actually are. The club lights were too dim to show them off, we were lost in lust last night and with my head between her legs a lot of the time I hardly had time to appreciate them, and this morning she was in the bath. However, I can see them for their true beauty now. Such a vivid green, like a forest in the middle of spring or summer. So alive with life that everything is a pure swirling mixture of bright and dark greens. 

Lost in the forest that are her eyes, I jump slightly when I feel her hands move up my arms to cup either side of my neck running her fingers along my jawline. 

"Lost in that inner turmoil again?" Her voice so soft, barley a whisper obviously aware of my little jump and not wanting to scare me further.

"No, no. Just looking at you." 

"You like staring huh?" She smiles as her thumb of one of her hands runs across my bottom lip.

"Admiring." Wanda playfully rolls her eyes, but keeping the atmosphere calm. "I was going to kiss you, but then I sort of got lost in your eyes, cheesy I know. But I haven't had time to see the true color of them." 

"Your right. That's cheesy, but I appreciate the flattery." I smile softly as I lean down, as she puckers up her lips again a playful glint in her eyes. 

As our lips meet we both let out a small sigh, closing our eyes and enjoying the moment. There is no fight for dominance or no sign of lust. Its just the two of us pouring everything into the kiss. I smile against her lips, which causes her to smile, basically breaking the kiss apart. I rest my forehead against hers, as her hands go from my neck and jaw to the back of my neck playing with my baby hairs. 

"I will let you get ready for your girls evening." She gives me a quick peck, smiling bashfully at me. 

"I will text you." 

"I can't wait." I peck her lips one last time as she removes herself from me, rifling through her bag to get to her keys. 

"You just going to stand there like a weirdo?" Wanda asks as she places the key in the keyhole.

"Yup." I say popping the P. "Well I'm a gentlewoman, so I got to make sure you get home safely."

"We are literally at my door." I shrug.

"And I might have left, and then you might have found out that you left your key at my place. But by the time you make it down the stairs I would have already driven away. And then you would have messaged me, which in turn would cause me to go home. Get the key. Come back. All that time locked outside your door, anything could happen. It's New York, unfortunately." A shit eating grin on my face appears after I finish my theory. 

"Well I'm Sokovian, so I can handle myself." She jests.

"Of course you can, I have no doubt. But you can never be too safe. So now that I can see your doors open, and you about to walk in. I will say by goodbye and turn around." I turn around as I say so, and start walking off waving behind my back. I smile when I hear her laugh shouting something like 'weirdo' down the hall. 

Sitting back down in the car I let out a whisper scream, in excitement, as my internal scream causes me to shake in excitement. Holy shit! That just happened! The whole night and morning. I can't wait to hear from her. I turn my car on, and start driving home. The smile never leaving my face.

================================

[phoebepheebsphibs]

Double-Mutated Mikey

Chapter 27: Ecology

Continued from the short story written by @boots-with-the-fur-club

Prev || Next

Casey is helping Mikey to pack essentials.

"Paints?"

Mikey nods.

"Paper?"

Mikey nods.

"Any clothes?"

Mikey stops mid-nod.

Huh. He actually hadn't thought about that...

Mikey looks down at his bare self. Casey wears clothes, April wears clothes, Drrrrrrrrraxum (he forgot his name for a sec) wears clothes, even Splinter wears clothes! His brothers wear clothes, to some extent. Sometimes they wear sweaters or hoodies or shirts, but mostly they wear things like masks and belts and gloves or wrappings over their arms. Mikey doesn't wear anything at all.

"Mmm, yes, pack clothes. Wwwwwhat, uh... what should Mikey -- I, what should I pack?"

"Well, in case it gets cold, maybe a sweater or something," Casey offers. "Do you wanna look through some of your stuff?"

Mikey nods and creeps next to Casey as he opens up a dresser drawer. It's filled with sweatshirts and jackets and pullovers.

"Which one looks good to you?"

"Mmmmmm.... um, I-I don't know," Mikey mumbles, somewhat overwhelmed by the number of choices.

He didn't think there would be this many clothes to pick from...

Casey sees the slight agitation on Mikey's face.

"Well, we should probably pick one that will keep you warm, so a thicker one is best," he suggests. "And maybe something soft? Oh, and let's look for a bigger size to fit over your shell..."

Casey starts to rummage through the drawer. He pulls out a hoodie with a sun decal and examines it.

"How's this one?" he asks.

"Looks good," Mikey says, sniffing it. It smells kind of like him! A little different than he smells now, but still similar... "W-will it ffffit?"

"Let's try," Casey replies, spreading it open and helping to direct Mikey's head and arms into the corresponding holes.

It's a big size, and Mikey vanishes in the hood. His talons are hidden by the sleeves, he flaps them around with a giggle. It's a surprisingly big hoodie, and Mikey wonders why he ever got something so huge. He doesn't recall that it was a gift for Raph but he'd outgrown it quickly, and gave it to the sunniest brother in the group.

"I like this one," Mikey chirps gleefully. "Can I keep it on?"

"Sure," Casey smiles. "It's yours anyway. We should find a few more to pack, though..."

"Big one!" Mikey requests. "Like this big!"

"Uh, well, I think that might be the biggest hoodie you have... Raphael might have a few we can borrow. I'll find some extras of yours to pack, though... while I do that, why don't you go get your blankets and pillows ready?"

Mikey chirps and crawls over to his bed -- whoop!

Mikey trips on his sleeve and crashes.

"Mikey! You okay?"

"Mm-hmm!" He says quickly, regaining his balance. "All good!"

Mikey shakes himself out and goes again -- whoop!

Mikey tumbles slightly, but catches himself. He tries folding the sleeves up above his wrists, but they fall loose and drape over his knuckles and drag across the floor as he trots. Mikey grumbles softly as he tries to figure this out...

"What's wrong?" Casey asks.

"Mmmngh... can't move right," Mikey groans. "Sleeves too long..."

"Do you need me to cut them or --"

"No, just... hmm. I can't mmmmove. Won't fold up right... can C-C-C-Casey help?"

Casey looks over the situation carefully, coming up with possible solutions.

"Well, if I fold them, they'll probably just fall loose again," he says. "You won't be able to crawl around in that."

"Do I have to take it off?"

"No, but there is another solution."

"Eh?" Mikey perks up. "What to do?"

"Have you tried walking upright?"

Mikey pauses, mouth open. His hands fidget.

"Haven't tried yet.... a l-little nervous..."

"Do you wanna try now? I'll help!" Casey offers, standing up and offering a hand to him. "I'll catch you if you fall."

Mikey swallows nervously. He reaches out for Casey's hand and takes it, careful not to grip him too hard for fear of cutting his skin with his nails. Casey pulls him up, causing Mikey to stumble with a cry.

"I got you, I got you!" he reassures him. "You're okay... Okay, you've got your balance?"

"Mm-hmmmmmmm," Mikey says with a nervous twinge in his voice.

"Alright, so follow my lead, one foot out --"

Casey swings his right leg forwards, taking a small step. Mikey watches as if Casey just jumped fifty buildings in one leap. He shakily lifts his own leg, and follows. He wobbles as he moves, almost losing balance and tipping over, but Casey holds his hand with determination.

Casey then moves his left foot to match. Mikey follows slowly, weakly. His legs shake. It's mostly just the balance that's his issue. The new tail is throwing him off, trying to readjust to the new center of gravity. But Mikey is figuring it out. Casey holds his hand like he's a toddler, walking with him around the room and giving words of affirmation and praise as he starts to pick up the pace. Casey steps further and further away from Mikey the longer they walk, letting him gain confidence in himself and get used to walking alone. The two get distracted from the packing and start roaming the halls. Casey lets go of Mikey's hand --

.

.

.

"No wet go!" Mikey scolds.

He's only a year old, and can barely get his points across, but he's trying. Splinter holds his tiny, stubby hands and uses his own claws to keep him upright as the tiny tot tries walking for the fourth time today, sixteenth time this week, fortieth time this month.

"I won't," Splinter promises with a sigh.

It's only been a year since the mutations, and he's still getting used to walking himself. Every once in a while, his tail will smack him in the leg, he'll forget it's there and think a strange snake got into the lair and try to protect the boys from it before realizing in embarrassment what it actually is. He's getting better with it, though...

Though parenthood is a new challenge he can't say he ever expected. The worry that he may mess up irrevocably without realizing it, the fear that maybe there will be an issue in health that he doesn't know how to solve, and even small things, like the differences in each son and learning curves or gaps.

The rest of the boys are walking. But Mikey is the baby, he's having trouble. He seems to be the 'special' baby, the late bloomer. He can crawl like his brothers do, but not as fast. They all can walk, Raphael can even run by this point! And the others can swim like experts. But Mikey almost drowned in his very first bath. Splinter might be babying him a bit, taking extra caution with him in some aspects... he does it for each baby. He's terrified of Donatello getting hurt because of his soft shell, so he is extra gentle. He's sure that Raphael is never alone because he'll start crying, and he lets him sleep in bed with him at night rather than in the box with the others. Leonardo is an attention hog and cries when he doesn't have the spotlight, so Splinter has to praise him a lot to help him feel validated. And Michelangelo is smaller than the rest, and for whatever reason he can't seem to stay on his feet for very long.

Despite all this, Mikey is determined and optimistic. But he's still nervous, and holds his father's hand with all his might. He fits within Splinter's palm, and Splinter helps to balance the baby boxshell as best he can without knocking him over.

Mikey takes a deep breath and swings his leg out. His foot hits the floor with a loud 'plap', and he swings his other leg out as well.

Splinter holds his hand behind him gently, his youngest son clinging to his fingers. Eventually, he takes the hand behind him away. He slowly leads Mikey around the area, guiding him by moving his finger in certain directions.

"Mikey say no wet go!" the baby shouts again when his father's hand drifts away faster than Mikey can keep up.

"I'm not letting go," Splinter explains. "I'm just moving my hand a little."

"Dada go too fast," Mikey scolds. "Dada no wet go."

"I won't," he promises.

Splinter and Mikey travel all around the room, with the little baby toddling around as best he can. It seems like he might be getting the hang of it!

.

.

.

Mikey trips and tumbles, having been distracted by the memory.

Casey grabs his arm as he reaches out for him, pulling Mikey back up as best he can.

"Whoah! Mikey, you okay?"

"Uh-huh," Mikey mumbles quickly, regaining his footing and holding onto Casey as though his life depended on it. "I'mmmmmm okayyyyy... jus' tripped."

"Okay," Casey says with a smile. "But so far, are you okay? Walking all good?"

"Shaky," Mikey says. "T-r-r-r-ricky... but, okay."

"Great," Casey nods. "It'll be a little difficult at first, but you'll get it!"

"Casey doing good job helping," Mikey says with a chuckle as he takes another step forward. "Thank you..."

"It's no problem," Casey says with a soft chuckle in return. "It's nothing compared to helping Sensei with his physical therapy after he lost his arm..."

"Huh?" Mikey asks in confusion. He's mentioned 'Sensei' before... who is he?

"Oh, n-nothing. Just something that happened in the alternate future..."

"Casey wanna talk about it?" Mikey asks.

Casey looks at Mikey in surprise. Everyone has been avoiding the subject of the future as though hearing more about it will bring about a crazy time curse or something.

But... if Mikey wants to know... what can it hurt?

"Well... okay! See, in the future..."

Casey talks on and on, explaining how Leo had lost his arm and had difficulty getting used to the physical therapy, and Casey helped him to adjust. Casey talks about how Donatello created a prosthetic arm that was equipped with weapons and equipment, and when Casey (who eight years old at the time) wanted one, Donatello made him a special glove fitted with a grappling hook so he could match his Sensei. Casey talks about how Mikey was an inspiration and kept the positivity in the Resistance, using his mystic powers to create all kinds of beautiful magic for the people and immeasurable protections and attacks against the Krang.

Mikey listens to Casey intensely, despite the fact that none of it makes any sense whatsoever to him.

.

.

.

Leo walks out and places his stuff down by the exit. There's a pile growing already, with duffel bags and totes and a few boxes of things that the group will need to occupy themselves. Leo packed several comics for himself, as well as puzzles and games for Mikey so he can exercise his brain. Raph packed up a flurry of stuffed animals, and was also tasked with packing Mikey's memory goop. April finished packing snacks for them to munch on while at Draxum's, and she also took the lead for gathering up Mikey's art supplies, too. Donnie packed an army's worth of purple jackets and hoodies and all of his tech and information on Mikey's double-mutation. He still hasn't given up trying to find a cure, despite knowing that there won't be one. Splinter packed up a few robes, his Lou Jitsu film collection, and as many scrapbooks as he could fit.

Leo notices that -- despite the enormous pile -- there are still a few bags missing.

Specifically orange bags.

Casey was supposed to help Mikey get packed up, but he hasn't seen or heard from either of them for a while. What are they up to?

Leo searches the lair, finding the two walking along one of the halls together. Mikey is standing upright, rather than crouched down on the floor on all fours. He's walking! Actually walking? Leo had been wondering about that, whether or not Mikey could still stand up or not.

He's a little shaky, but he's got the spirit. Mikey looks happy, but not completely confident in himself; he's holding onto CJ like a lifeline, refusing to let go as they roam around the rec room together, arm in arm.

Casey keeps Mikey entertained as they walk, talking on and on about...

Leo stops and feels his head go numb as he hears what Casey Jones Jr. is talking about.

"...And then Sensei grabbed the Krang dog by the leg and threw it at --"

"Hey, guys," Leo says, waving at them. "What's going on in here?"

"Oh, hey Leo!" CJ says with a nervous smile. "I was just helping Mikey try walking again. And, uh, we just started talking, and..."

"Casey is confusing!" Mikey announces proudly, stating it like it's an award or title that Casey earned. "Learning a lot!"

"Learning?" Leo asks.

"Future," Mikey explains. "You have an arm -- uhh.... Casey, what is the word?"

"Prosthetic?"

"Yeah, that. Leo gets a cool arm! Like a gift! You lost your old one, so Donnie made you another! Why did you have multiple arms?"

Leo turns and stares at Casey, his eye twitching.

"...It's.... uh.... a long story," Leo manages. "But, um, maybe we can talk about it later."

Casey shrinks a bit, his head goes low and his shoulders slump. Mikey notices the shift in the room, and is about to ask why they're both acting weird when Leo changes the subject.

"So, are you all packed?"

"Oh, uh, n-no, not yet, we kinda got distracted..."

"Well, why don't I help you out real quick?"

Leo pulls the two back into Mikey's room. He has Mikey pick out several more sweatshirts and hoodies to wear while Leo and CJ go to bag up his blankets and pillows.

Mikey listens to them as they whisper; eventually they catch on and sign to each other instead. Mikey watches from his peripherals, trying to not let them realize he's eavesdropping on them. It's tough, they both turn away and he can only catch bits and pieces.

'...why would you tell him...'

'...didn't think... issue... he asked....'

'...he's confused...'

'What do you mean?'

'Memory... doesn't know... aliens...'

'...sorry... didn't know...'

'...don't want to make it more confusing for him...'

'Okay...'

'Besides... talked about this...promised to keep it secret...'

'...just wanted someone to talk to...'

'....why should they know... painful... don't want them to hurt...'

'What about my hurt?'

Casey and Leo turn away from Mikey fully. He can't see the rest of their conversation, but by their body language he can tell it's not going well. CJ gets up and storms away. Leo sighs and droops in the corner of the room. Mikey hops over to him and nuzzles his back.

"Leo okay?"

He turns around and fakes a smile at him.

"All good, mi hermano. Just... trying to figure some stuff out with Casey."

"Is Casey okay?"

Leo heaves a sigh.

"...Let's just get you packed up. Do you wanna bring your chucks?"

Leo holds out the sticks he tried to give Mikey a few days ago. Mikey still doesn't understand what they are.

"No," he says with a shrug. "I don't. Unless you want them..."

"No, I don't -- Mikey, they're your weapons!" Leo clarifies. "You use them for your ninpo, remember?"

"What's a ninpo?" Mikey asks as he starts digging through his shirts again.

Leo is silent for a while. Mikey gets nervous that he said something wrong and turns back to look at him. Leo's eyes are wide and his face is shaken. But he blinks and resets, his expression changes to a feeble smile.

"Uh, nevermind. I'll tell ya later..."

.

.

.

Once Mikey's supplies are all compiled, the group meets in the garage.

Leo pulls out his katanas and slashes the air, creating a portal.

"All right everyone, let's go!"

Leo directs the group as though he were directing traffic, each person jumping through with their stuff one at a time. Mikey and Leo are the last two left in the room.

"You ready?"

Mikey nods, slowly pushing himself up and standing with a wobble. Leo takes his hand, and the two step through the portal.

It disorients Mikey more than he expected, and he stumbles after the second step, almost falling over before Leo wraps his arms around him and steadies him again.

"Well well, it's nice to see you finally arrive," Draxum grumbles as he greets Donnie. "Although, I didn't expect you to bring so many guests... I thought you said it was just your family?"

"Yeah, that's me, Mikey, Raph, Leo, Splinter, April, and Casey Jr.," he explains without looking up from his phone. "Oh, and S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.2.0."

Mikey notices CJ perk up with a smile when his name is mentioned in the list of family members.

But Draxum sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

"I see. I didn't account for that... I'm afraid I don't have enough room for everyone."

"I won't be staying overnight," April offers.

"Still, the addition of the rat and the time traveler was unexpected."

"Well, it's a good thing you have a certified genius to help with construction, then," Donnie says, cracking his knuckles. "S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N., prepare the schematics!"

"On it, dude," the robot says with a laugh as he starts to scan the building.

"You don't honestly think that we can add two extra rooms from scratch by this evening?" Draxum challenges.

"You doubt my skills?"

"In addition to the rest of the renovations? Finishing by tomorrow night would be a miracle," he growls. "We'll have to find somewhere else to house you all until it's finished..."

"Like where?" Raph asks. "Not the Hotel Nexus..."

"Big Mama is not the only hotel proprietor in the Hidden City," Draxum huffs. "I know of a nice resort that could take us in..."

"Wait, resort? Not the one that only takes in people with hair, right?" Leo fidgets, his hands reaching to cover his bald head.

"I do have a membership there," Draxum says. "But there is another one --"

"Not the one across the street!" Leo begs, almost falling to his knees.

"No, of course not. There's more than one, don't worry. I'll call for a coach, and you can stay there until my home is repaired."

Draxum summons a flying cart with a pegasus, and the group fill the trunk with their belongings and climb in. The winged horse brays and jumps into the air, carrying the cart away.

"Not exactly a simurgh ride, but still pretty cool," Leo smirks. "Whaddya think, Mikey?"

Mikey leans over the side of the cart, the wind in his face and the underworld beneath him. It's so pretty, incredibly bright and colorful! For so long, all he knew was white coats and grey tiles and pitch black machines...

Mikey hoots as the cart flies. He loves this! Raph reaches over to keep him safely in the wagon when he thinks Mikey might fall out.

Mikey takes in the many smells... there's an entire world down here! And another world above! Mikey starts bouncing with excitement and anticipation...

The cart lands in front of a large Yokai resort, multicolored palm trees dotting the lawn and enormous shells decorating the entrance.

The group step out, oohing and awing at the underground beaches and beautiful views from behind the building.

"How do they have a sky and ocean?" Raph asks, pointing.

"It's a form of portal magic," Draxum states.. "There are many parts of the world still uninhabited by man, hundreds of undiscovered islands in the ocean. The Yokai use special spells to create bridges between those islands and their own cities, folds in space and reality, creating the illusion that the sandy shores are here, when in fact we are --"

"Less talking, more vacay!" Splinter shouts, running into the hotel. "Papa needs a suntan and a fruity drink with a tiny umbrella!!"

April cackles as Draxum rolls his eyes.

"And to think I chose him as the mightiest warrior for my experiments..."

Mikey turns to look at Draxum when he hears the word 'experiments'. But no one else seems to mind. Leo notices Mikey's nervous twitch and pats him on the back.

"It's okay," Leo whispers. "He means something else. He is a good guy. I promise you're safe."

Safe. Safe. Safe.

Mikey trusts Leo.

The duo follow after the rest into the lobby as Splinter rings the front bell several times over.

"Be right there!" a surprisingly cheery voice calls out.

A moment later, two small bat-like creatures fly out to greet the guests.

"Hi, and welcome to -- DRAXUM?!"

"BOSS!"

Draxum's eyes widen.

"Huginn? Muninn? You work here now??"

"Yeah!" Huginn cheers. "Can you believe it? We got such a cushy job here! I mean, well... it's okay. The pay stinks, the manager is the owner's son, we have to give rent for our own room, which is actually the supply closet..."

"But at least we have dental!" Muninn chimes in.

"...You're gargoyles. You don't have any teeth," Draxum states flatly.

"Yeah.... we didn't really think this through," Muninn sighs.

"Well, you're looking... um, good," Draxum says quickly. "I wasn't sure what happened to you two after the incident with the Dark Armor."

"We kinda... went off the grid after you disappeared and the arrest warrants went out," Huginn sighs. "It was tough finding work. But you're off the hook now! Congrats!"

"We've never been prouder!" Muninn smiles. "So, what's up with you? Looks like you finally got the turtles to team up with you!"

"It's a long story. But I've, uh..." Draxum swallows. "Been busy. Restoring my old home."

"Wow, really? Still?" Huginn asks. "Well, if, uh... you ever need someone to perch on your shoulders again, or y'know, do menial tasks like bridling ravenous ponies or filing taxes..."

Draxum smiles.

"I'll let you know. In the meantime, do you have any rooms available?"

"For you?" Muninn grins wide. "Private luxury suite!"

He tosses the key to the warring warrior scientist, who catches it with ease.

"We'll take your bags up for ya!" Muninn says, fluttering over to the pile. "You guys can go check out the pool, spa, bingo hall, buffet, and beachside!"

The teens immediately run out the back door to explore the beach as Draxum and his former goyles start to gather up the luggage.

Huginn notices Mikey scurrying past.

"Hey boss, isn't that...?"

"Like I said, it's a long story," Draxum says with a sigh.

.

.

.

The teens rush out and explore the beach. An aurora of rainbows wrap over the edge of the property, creating an archway that leads to a hidden tropical paradise. Mikey can feel the breeze and smell the water from where he is. Casey stares in shock at it all. He starts to tear up.

"You okay, CJ?" April asks.

"...I... huh? Oh, yeah," he says, coming back to reality, sniffing a bit as he wipes his eyes. "I just... I never knew that the world looked like this... it's so beautiful, and intact, and... big..."

April smiles, taking his hand and leading him to the beach.

"Come on, future kid. We're gonna introduce you to the magic of a beachside vacation."

Mikey chirps happily as he runs alongside them. Leo and Raph are already at the water's edge, splashing in the tide. Donnie watches from just beyond their reach, smiling softly, letting his feet sink in the sand as he basks in the sun.

It's so warm here, the sun is so bright and the water is so sparkling...

Mikey presses a hand into the wet sand. It squishes under his pressure. Casey mimics him, pressing his hand into the soft sand. He laughs. Mikey laughs with him, digging his claws deeper and deeper. His knuckles feel something hard with ridges. He pulls out a shell. Casey awes at it, staring in wonder. Mikey hands it over for him to examine.

Open. Space. Run. Free. Zoom.

Mikey starts bolting, running along the water's edge and kicking up sand as he races against the wind. He shrieks with laughter. He circles around and races back, zooming back and forth over and over again. He can hear Casey and April laughing at his speed, enjoying the fact that he's enjoying himself.

Mikey turns to the water. Leo and Raph are up to their knees in the waves. Leo beckons him out to join them.

Mikey, crouches, getting ready to pounce...

His animal intuitions take over. Rather than jump in the water... he runs. His legs speed under him, his back straightens and he runs on two feet instead of all fours. He bolts across the water, going past Leo and Raph in an instant and speeding away. He runs atop the water, the webbing in between his toes creating air pockets beneath that keep him afloat as he runs.

Mikey runs on water, never having felt more free in his life.

He can hear the others shouting for him and cheering him on. Mikey laughs loudly as he runs in an arc and returns quickly, coming towards Leo and Raph, who realize too late what Mikey's plans are.

Mikey leaps and jumps them. The two shout in fear as he pounces, knocking them into the water.

Donnie howls with laughter. April woops and Casey cheers. Leo and Raph are sputtering under Mikey but laughing all the same. Mikey cackles with joy as Raph splashes Mikey in retaliation and Leo flips him over, crashing him into an oncoming wave. Mikey swims around them like a snake before jumping out and pouncing on Raph again.

Splinter watches from the shore with a smile as his family lets themselves be kids for the first time in a very, very long time.

Prev || Next || Deleted Scene

[black-bentley-niatruc]

Fic

Title: The Mind-Body Problem [part 1/3]

[A bonus smutty thing happening between chapters 20 and 21 of my main Human AU fic]

Fandom: Good Omens

Category: M/M

Relationship: Aziraphale/Crowley

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: filthy smut, check below for any squeaks/no-no's

Additional tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot; touch-starved; Crowley has a praise kink; inexperienced Crowley; experienced Aziraphale (kind of); fluff; first time; first time topping; first time things; chest-fucking; Aziraphale is a Pillow Princess; Crowley is a tease; Aziraphale has an oral fixation; angst (thanks, Crowley!); barebacking; butt plugs; anal sex; low-key D/s vibes, but not a 'proper' D/s setting; rough sex; safe, sane and consensual; kinky

Words: 4082

Originally published: 2024-05-27

Summary

“I want you inside of me, if… if that’s something you’d be amenable to,” his angel whispers, glancing into Crowley’s eyes, heart-meltingly bashful.

Unable to help himself, Crowley repeats with amusement, “Amenable.”

Human AU, Crowley and Aziraphale try new things in their relationship

That's it, that's the fic; can be read as a standalone

As soon as Aziraphale walks through the door to Crowley’s flat on Friday evening, he sets a familiar-looking wooden basket on the floor and wraps his arms around Crowley’s neck, kissing him hungrily.

Which is understandable, really.

Ever since they returned to the continent, there were no kisses and only a few fleeting touches, no public displays of affection – and now Crowley feels like he’s starving.

During the last three or so days, he’s brought himself to climax to the thought of Aziraphale so many times he lost count, partially because he couldn’t stop thinking about everything they’ve done together so far and all the things they haven’t, yet, but also hoping that he’d be able to fucking last a little longer today.

His glorious plan might get thwarted soon, he realises as Aziraphale rubs his hardening length against Crowley’s thigh in a slow, deliberate movement with an accompanying little sound that goes straight to Crowley’s cock, making it pulse with intense arousal.

If only they could move in more than three dimensions – then getting to the bedroom, onto the bed, while simultaneously kissing, undressing, and holding onto each other like men drowning would have been so much easier. As it is, they have to give the tiniest part of their attention to the surrounding world in order not to get some unplanned bruises or worse injuries.

“I’m prepared!” Crowley announces, torn between proud and nervous, once they’ve reached their destination, showing Aziraphale a bottle of lube.

After all, his angel might not approve of this kind of level of presumptuousness.

But the pupils in those blue eyes grow so huge at the implications that Aziraphale looks high out of his mind even before Crowley sets the bottle back on the bedside table.

“Mm, good, I’m prepared as well, so to speak,” says Aziraphale, his cheeks reddening slightly as he squirms minutely where he’s seated on Crowley’s bed.

Crowley’s mind wanders to the contents of the wooden basket, but gets distracted when Aziraphale pulls him into another heated kiss and guides them until Crowley’s lying on top of him, one of Aziraphale’s thighs between his legs.

“I want you inside of me, if... if that’s something you’d be amenable to,” his angel whispers, glancing into Crowley’s eyes, heart-meltingly bashful.

Unable to help himself, Crowley repeats with amusement, “Amenable.”

His cock leaks precome at the mere idea, and here’s Aziraphale asking if Crowley’s amenable to something he’s been dreaming of – day and night – for weeks.

Misreading Crowley’s reaction, Aziraphale attempts to backpedal, “But of course there are other―”

“Aziraphale,” Crowley interrupts him, brushing his fingertips against those pretty sensitive lips. “I am more than... amenable.” Aziraphale beams, but of course that’s the moment Crowley’s concerns come back to eat away at his certainty. “Only... I’ve never...”

“I know,” Aziraphale reminds him, quickly. This time he reads Crowley’s hesitation correctly. “You won’t break me, dearest,” he assures, gently kissing Crowley’s fingers.

“I’m afraid I’ll come as soon as I’m inside you,” Crowley confesses his other worry with a nervous, mournful laugh.

Aziraphale licks his lips, his perfect tongue catching on Crowley’s middle finger. “Well, it’s not a once in a lifetime thing. But I’d be more than happy to help you... take the edge off, before we get to this part,” he offers. “We have time, don’t we?”

“Brilliant; you’re a literal genius,” Crowley chokes out once he hears this solution, so obvious that it never occurred to him. They have time. They have privacy, too. “Do I get to hear you tonight?” he asks, before tracing kisses and licks down his angel’s neck, breathing in the scent of his skin.

Head spinning, he can feel the shiver that runs down Aziraphale’s body. “Most likely.”

Fuck, yes. Finally.

Propping himself up on his hands, Crowley leans away to have a good look at his angel and decide what he’d like to do to ‘take the edge off’, since, for someone who claims to be selfish, Aziraphale has been nothing if not accommodating, repeatedly insisting that the beginnings of their explorations should be about Crowley, about him figuring out what he enjoys most with Aziraphale’s enthusiastic guidance.

Crowley has seen his share of porn, but there was always something about it – the lack of connection, perhaps – that, while doing the job of making him aroused, would also put him off, so he mostly watched out of curiosity, in a way one might see an educational (if not scientifically accurate) program. What it led to is Crowley having some general ideas about things that can be done, things he might like to try, and things he definitely doesn’t.

Of course, his head is empty now.

He wants... oh, how he wants, yes, but he might be in need of a more directive approach from Aziraphale, who seems content to patiently map the skin over Crowley’s sides with reverent fingertips, tracing the shallow hollows between the ribs so gently it almost tickles.

Opening his mouth to admit he can’t decide what to do, Crowley notices the pink nipples, deliciously hardened, and immediately gets distracted.

Aziraphale whispers something that sounds like ‘Gorgeous’ when Crowley straightens and moves to straddle him, seating himself comfortably on the soft thighs, cheeks burning pleasantly at the praise.

“Alright?” he mutters, rubbing his hands against Aziraphale’s chest, and is rewarded with a soft sigh.

He squeezes the pecs together, thumbs teasing at the nipples, his touches getting more insistent and forceful by the minute, until he moves his gaze to Aziraphale’s face to check if he’s not being too rough, and he’s met with a dark stare, quite certain the heat in those hooded, lust-filled eyes could burn him into ashes if he doesn’t look away―

Mercifully, Aziraphale breaks eye contact, glancing at his own chest and licking his kiss-swollen lips. And then he looks back at Crowley’s face with that burning intensity offering an idea, “Do you want to fuck me like this?”

Crowley isn’t sure what he means, because he gets positively bewitched with the captivating way Aziraphale pronounced the word ‘fuck’ – it’s how temptation sounds, for sure – until he notices the valley he’s created between Aziraphale’s pecs and he realises his cock would fit there nicely, indeed, and he lets out a choked out, “Bloody hell, angel.”

The blush on Aziraphale’s cheeks darkens and he squirms uncomfortably, apologising for being ‘crass’ and assuring Crowley that ‘they don’t have to―’, apparently interpreting Crowley’s astonished silence as him being scandalised by the offer.

In reality, Crowley is the opposite of scandalised. He just doesn’t have the words to express the things his angel does to him – the fire rushing through his blood vessels, the affection squeezing at his chest, the stupidly annoyed ‘Why didn’t I think of this first?’.

“Yes, yes, I want to,” he says quickly, his cock so hard it aches. “But only if it’s something you’d enjoy, too.”

The way Aziraphale beams at him is enough to assure him that his angel expects to enjoy himself very much, indeed. His hands help steady Crowley as he shuffles up Aziraphale’s body, heart hammering in anticipation. He remembers the feeling of the thick thighs squeezing around his cock as he thrusted between them and then came over the pale skin of Aziraphale’s buttocks. He thinks about marking all of his angel this way and feels just a little bad about being so dirty and possessive.

One of Aziraphale’s hands disappears from his hip and he makes an embarrassing, pathetic sound at the loss, but it turns out it was just to reach for the lube.

Yeah, won’t hurt to use it, now that they’re prepared, Crowley agrees internally, unscrewing the lid with almost-not-trembling fingers.

“You really are a spoiled pillow princess, aren’t you?” he mutters, slicking his cock with practised ease, realising that Aziraphale isn’t doing much work here, looking very comfortable, watching the show with hungry eyes and a soft smile.

“Oh, you want to see me in action?” he asks with a grin that holds a challenge in it – as if Crowley is expected to earn himself that – even as he pushes at the sides of his broad, soft chest.

Very pointedly, Crowley forbids his mind to go Places right now. He’ll learn what Aziraphale meant soon enough, he hopes. Just stick to the original plan, he thinks, pressing his cock between Aziraphale’s breasts and watching his angel close his eyes and tilt his head back with a shuddering sigh. Make yourself come like this, Crowley tells himself, thrusting experimentally. Come over his chest and neck and maybe face. Ask him first, though; it’s only polite. He adjusts his position and thrusts again. So fucking good.

As if in agreement, Aziraphale moans quietly. Crowley notices two perfectly manicured nails pinching one of the nipples and he bites his lip.

Oh, it’s a good thing his hands are free, he realises with a devious smirk that escapes his angel’s attention. Reaching behind himself, he wraps his lube-slickened fingers around Aziraphale’s cock, eliciting a soft growl. At the sound, Crowley’s hips change their movement from slow and grinding to something faster, more desperate.

The squeeze and slide of slick flesh around his cock is exquisite, the sounds of undeniable, inexplicable pleasure coming from Aziraphale a music to his ears: shuddering breaths and encouraging whispers urging him to keep going, yes, don’t stop―

It’s a little difficult to coordinate, but with his other hand, Crowley touches Aziraphale’s face, knuckles ghosting over the slightly parted lips. Predictably, his angel gasps and attempts to wrap them around Crowley’s fingers. Groaning loudly, Crowley doesn’t let him, teasing mercilessly. He can feel Aziraphale’s legs moving subtly as he squirms underneath Crowley’s weight.

He can’t take it any more, the pressure low in his belly threatening to burst, his cock throbbing with an impending release.

With a feral grunt, Crowley grabs Aziraphale’s shoulders for leverage, bringing himself off with rapid, powerful thrusts spurred on by sighs of undeniable pleasure and whispered endearments, feeling his heart drown in warmth at the sweet ‘I want you to feel good’ and his soul shatter at the unexpected, broken ‘Yes, please, use me’, until it’s just pure ecstasy, nerve endings exploding, pleasure spreading through him in rhythmic waves.

Panting, dazed, and thoroughly satisfied, Crowley slides off Aziraphale to kiss him desperately and wrap his limbs around the soft body, when his angel obediently turns to his side, returning the kisses and touches alike.

“Fuuuck,” Crowley groans, one of his hands pressing into Aziraphale’s chest, feeling his heartbeat and the mess of lube over the hot skin. Wait. “Sorry, I forgot to ask you...” He bites his lip, fingers swiping over his own come where most of it pooled in the hollow below Aziraphale’s throat.

In response, he receives a playful wink and an absurdly innocent smile as Aziraphale’s fingers join his own to smear the pearly seed over his collarbone. His angel is a walking paradox and Crowley doesn’t mind.

“How much time do you usually need?” Aziraphale asks, before kissing him on the lips again, successfully preventing Crowley from giving the answer.

Not that he’s got one. Usually, he doesn’t wait to see when he’s ready for another round. Usually, he comes all alone, which is a thought that he suddenly cannot bear.

“Nnn,” he mewls pitifully into Aziraphale’s hot mouth.

His angel pulls back, takes one look at him, and wordlessly gathers him impossibly closer, planting kisses over Crowley’s forehead and rubbing his hand up and down his spine, apparently not at all surprised – or worse, concerned – with the tears filling Crowley’s eyes.

They’re tears of relief, of longing, of finally finding the yin to his yang, of the missing pieces slotting into their places in his heart. Crowley dares to hope, fiercely and desperately, that Aziraphale’s understanding comes from the fact that he feels the same.

“You’re so perfect,” Aziraphale whispers into his hair, following that statement with more kisses and something that sounds like ‘mine’ or maybe ‘divine’.

“Angel,” Crowley breathes, grateful to feel the first sparks of renewing arousal, because he’s too vulnerable like this, too fragile, not yet ready to trust the whole of himself even to Aziraphale’s gentle hands.

Especially to Aziraphale’s gentle hands.

And he might do it, if he isn’t careful.

“Tell me what you need,” his angel implores, softly.

“I need to fuck you,” says Crowley, choosing the easiest answer.

And Aziraphale, bless him, plays along, even if dozens of emotions seem to flicker over his face before he sighs with contentment and reaches blindly for the pillow to pull it out from underneath his own head.

“I’m a pillow princess through and through,” he explains, catching Crowley staring curiously at his ministrations as he places the pillow under his hips.

He wriggles, probably testing the angle and twists to get the other pillow, but Crowley’s ahead of him, handing it over with a praise-awaiting grin.

“Ah, thank you,” says Aziraphale with a fond, appreciative smile that’s like a drop of honey to the bitter tea of Crowley’s self-image.

Despite looking like he knows exactly what to do – as opposed to Crowley who’s vaguely aware watching and reading all the world’s porn isn’t going to help him here – there is definitely nervousness about him as he moves to reach the bottle of lube, lying forgotten but stark purple against the black sheets.

“And the... er...”

“I’m clean,” Crowley rushes to explain the lack of condoms. He thought about it, how he’d like to feel no barriers between their bodies, and decided to leave the decision to Aziraphale. “But if you want to, or―”

“No, come here,” his angel says, quickly, making it sound like a demand and a request all at once as he settles on the pillows, one of his hands resting on his own chest, the other clutching nervously at the sheets.

Crowley’s kneeling between his legs before Aziraphale utters the last syllable. There are little electric sparks dancing up the backs of his thighs and higher, up, up his spine. His insides twist in anticipation, tickling, almost painful.

So, now, he thinks, now the fingering, as in, prepping, yes?

He almost scoffs at himself loudly. It’s not like he’s never tried it on himself.

Placing both hands on the insides of Aziraphale’s thighs, he traces his fingers down, spreading those lovely legs even more, bending down to mouth at the hard, reddened cock, feeling Aziraphale shift subtly with a soft moan.

God, but he can’t wait to hear him...

Leaning away for a better view of what he’s doing, Crowley hooks his hands over the creases where thighs meet groin, thumbs digging gently into the squishable cheeks to part them...

“Fuck me,” he whines, staring, half-erected cock jumping into full hardness in a matter of seconds. “Fucking... fuck!”

‘I’m prepared as well, so to speak,’ Aziraphale told him earlier.

Oh, he’s prepared all right.

“I take it you like it?” Aziraphale asks with that adorable pleased smile he wears every time he thinks he’s done something clever. No denying his cleverness, now.

The plug looks fancy – expensive and somehow tasteful despite (or because of?) the little discreet golden wings, folded into an elongated heart shape.

“You go in for the kill, eh?” Crowley manages, unable to take his eyes off the sight, swiping his thumb over one of the wings, pressing against it hard enough to make Aziraphale suck in a sharp breath and squirm again. “You rode a fucking bus over here wearing this?”

“It’s rather obvious I did,” his angel sniffs and then groans softly as Crowley tugs at the plug gently, pulling it out a fraction of an inch and pushing back in. And to think he worried he was being too presumptuous. “A stimulating ride, to be completely honest.”

“Decadent,” Crowley mutters, wishing he were there on the bus with him, thinking of the way his naughty angel has been blushing and squirming on his bed for the whole time, leaving Crowley none the wiser, because he’d never expect Aziraphale to casually come to him wearing a butt plug like it’s something that’s just done. Of course, that’s exactly why Crowley loves him.

“Quite.” Aziraphale’s calf nudges Crowley’s hip impatiently as he reaches between his own legs. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to replace it with something more substantial.”

“Bossy.”

Much as Crowley’s fiendish side would love to tease him until he fucking begs for his cock like the shameless slut some people seem to take him for, Crowley’s body opposes waiting any longer. Batting Aziraphale’s hand away, he slowly pulls out the small plug by the wings, watching the tender muscles stretch around the widest part to the accompanying pleased sigh.

Crowley groans softly, seeing the pink little hole slightly open and glistening with slick. As he pours more lube onto his fingers and presses two of them against the warm rim, Aziraphale gives him a pleading look.

“None of that now, please. This whole stretching with three fingers and scissoring as a necessary preparation thing is a myth I’d rather skip.”

Huh.

“So you want me to just...” Crowley attempts to make sure, curling his lube-covered hand around his own cock, suddenly feeling all of his muscles tremble with anticipation.

“Please.”

It sounds so wrecked, as if Aziraphale’s about to cry, and Crowley’s eyes are immediately drawn to his face, checking for signs of pain or regret or uncertainty. What he finds instead leaves him breathless – devotion and raw need and something between a plea and hope. Aziraphale is breathing fast, fists clutching the sheets desperately, burning stare jumping from Crowley’s cock to his eyes and back again. As if it’s ‘a once in a lifetime thing’ after all...

Crowley grasps Aziraphale’s left hip with his free hand, shuffling closer, the head of his cock brushing against the slick opening.

Oh god, he’s never―

Aziraphale gasps, then lets out a shuddering breath. “Do you want―?”

Before he’s asked about wanting a break or to call everything off or whatever unacceptable idea has settled in Aziraphale’s mind, Crowley presses the head of his cock inside his angel, slowly, trying to be gentle but also to savour the feeling.

“Oooh,” Aziraphale sighs, eyes fluttering closed, and wraps his arms around the back of Crowley’s neck. And then, immediately, “More. Give me more.”

What can Crowley do but oblige, really? He sinks in deeper, his overly romantic soul bringing up images of people willingly drowning in the arms of beautiful water creatures.

“Let me hear you,” he says, because he can tell Aziraphale is restraining himself in practically every way except for his focus on Crowley’s own pleasure. And having Aziraphale’s attention in its entirety is not something Crowley seems to be able to handle, not that he’d ever admit it aloud.

“Deeper, don’t stop,” his angel demands in a rich, deep groan that sets all of Crowley’s skin on fire.

As if he could stop.

With his right hand, he grabs at the flesh on the underside of Aziraphale’s thigh, slick fingers slipping over the skin, pushing his leg towards his chest for what he thinks might be a better angle for them both, and finally, finally, he bottoms out, the sharp bones of his hips resting against the cushion of Aziraphale’s bum.

Crowley had no idea the human body is so hot on the inside. He assumed it would feel good, based on his own experimentations, but his imagination pales in comparison to the real thing.

Fuck, they’re―It’s actually happening...

At the gentle tug against the nape of his neck, Crowley obediently bends over Aziraphale until he’s lying on top of him again, propped on his hands, and suddenly they’re kissing.

Crowley sways his hips experimentally and they both moan into each other’s mouths.

Any hotter and it would have been unbearable, he thinks, starting to thrust, just a little, in response to Aziraphale grinding against him insistently.

It is unbearable, the way he suddenly wants to fuck Aziraphale into the bed like a beast in heat, wants to tear him apart in his all-consuming greed, make him scream and cry and lose his grip on Crowley’s leash – while simultaneously, Crowley wants to be gentle and selfless and very much kept on said leash, for Aziraphale to do whatever he desires.

“How do you like it?” he asks softly, against Aziraphale’s lips.

“It’s not about me,” his angel insists, breathing hard.

Crowley snaps his hips, punishing. “How do you like it?” he repeats, but Aziraphale’s groan at the rough push is a welcome clue.

Maybe what they want is complementary.

“Harder,” says Aziraphale, sounding defeated.

Again, Crowley obliges, gasping and groaning at the intense stimulation, at the way Aziraphale allows a few louder moans and grunts to escape his lips, dragging his fingers over the sweat-slick skin of Crowley’s back.

As his moves get even bolder, the thrusts longer, faster, and even more enthusiastic, Crowley feels himself suddenly slip out and he whines in shock at the cold stop to his mounting pleasure.

Before he fully understands what happened, he feels Aziraphale’s hand reaching between them, guiding him back inside without missing a beat, and hears a breathless, “Keep going, dear.”

Crowley learns from his miscalculation and quickly resumes the movements of his hips, adding some experimental twists here and there and trying different tempos. He seals his lips over the skin just below Aziraphale’s clavicle, sucking a bruise there, tasting his own dried come.

Fuck.

“I said, harder, you fiend,” Aziraphale reminds him in a tone that can only be described as commanding, hips rolling slowly up so he can rub himself against their skin where his cock is pressed between their stomachs.

Fuck, yes. I’ll show you a fiend.

Straightening until he’s back on his knees, Crowley digs his hands into Aziraphale’s love handles. They can’t share more kisses like that, he can no longer have those arms wrapped around himself, but he gets to see his angel’s face clearly, so there’s merit to every position, he concludes.

The red-cheeked face he’s admiring says I love you and I need you and I’m happy. And, of course, Fuck me.

It’s everything Crowley ever wanted.

He pounds into Aziraphale almost viciously, drawing from the not-so-secret place in his heart that stores all of his frustration with his angel, all the little ways he’s infuriated by him, all the moments Crowley wished he could be truly angry. The sounds of his hips slapping against Aziraphale’s buttocks – and, god, they probably jiggle with each hit, must be getting red from the smacks – are incredibly satisfying, but there’s yet something more that Crowley wants.

“Louder, angel,” he hisses between his panting breaths.

Aziraphale moans loudly, then growls, one hand curling around his own cock, the other reaching lower.

Crowley rewards him by setting a frantic, brutal pace, and realises, about half a second before it happens, that he’ll get to see what his angel looks like when he comes.

His pretty blue eyes are wide open and sparkling, staring at the ceiling in wonder. The skin of his chest flushes red as he paints it with streaks of his own semen and his back arches off the bed slightly. His mouth is open around a long, deep ‘aaahh’ sound, his face smiling and practically glowing. He looks just like those pictures and actors portraying religious ecstasy and Crowley will never be able to see those the same way he used to.

The hot, wet muscles around Crowley’s cock squeeze around him in pulses, practically milking the orgasm out of him, and he sees blackness.

When he comes to, he’s lying on his side, panting, breathless, thoroughly fucked out and filled with way too many emotions as he looks into Aziraphale’s warm eyes, feels his lips brush gently against his own. In fact, he’s overflowing, and some of it spills out of his treacherous mouth.

“Marry me,” he says, pressing a wet kiss against Aziraphale’s soft lips, and another and another, unable to stop, hand brushing gently over the round, flushed cheek.

[something-tofightfor]

Liminality: Part 9

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Word Count: 7,976

Rating: This one's actually very tame, but I'm gonna go with M for overall content + language.

Summary: You and Frankie have decided some things about the next full moon, but there are plenty more to consider. Conversations with some of the people that he's closest to prove to you that Frankie's friends do, in fact have his - and your - best interests in mind.

A surprise revelation puts a few more things into perspective ... and widens your new circle of friends a little more.

Author’s note:

The action picks up the next chapter - I promise. This one is a lot more focused on relationship building and setting groundwork. There are also a couple clues in here (as well as some nods to the movie) ... let's see if you can catch them, Thank you for reading! Please come say hello in my inbox or through DMs if you want!

This one goes out specifically to @anniet852 for making the request that I post it tonight. I hope you enjoy, and thank you for reaching out.

Masterlist (for the journal entries and all of the other 'extras' + previous chapters)

There was something warm and soft pressed against the space just in front of your ear, and after you blinked a few times, you realized what it was. It’s Frankie, and he’s kissing me. 

Humming quietly, you rolled back and toward him, but he stopped you with one hand on your side, sighing out your name. “No time. I’m gonna be late.” What? “Didn’t wanna get up so I stayed with you as long as I could.” Oh. “Stay in bed.”

“But -” You voice was hoarse and thick with sleep, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“No, it’s early.” He kissed you again, that time a little closer to your mouth. “Stay as long as you want. Make yourself at home. Spare key’s in the kitchen. Take it with you and give it back next time I see you.” His tone was low and soothing - a quiet rumble in your ear. Even though you wanted to get up, you felt yourself drifting again, sinking deeper into the nest of blankets that smelled like him as he pulled the top one up and over your shoulders. “I’ll call you tonight.” 

You hummed in agreement, nodding, and Frankie squeezed your shoulder but didn’t say anything else. A few minutes later, you thought you heard the front door close, but you were already almost back asleep. 

The next time you woke up, the room was filled with light, and the clock on the bedside table said 10:27. I just slept for almost ten hours. Pushing yourself upright, you rubbed at your eyes with one hand, yawning. 

It was strange to be in Frankie’s house alone, but you felt comfortable, and there was a large part of you that was excited to have the opportunity to look around before you left. You weren’t going to snoop, but you did want to get a better idea of Frankie as a man without him only a few feet or a room away. 

He’d told you to make yourself at home, and so you did, setting the coffee pot to brew while you looked around the kitchen and into the living room. 

There were pictures hanging on the fridge - Frankie and Carmen in his back yard, one of him and a woman you assumed was Becca with a swaddled baby held between them, a group shot of Frankie and the guys. He looked happy in all of them, but you noticed a hollowness in his expression in the one with the baby, dark circles under his eyes and his face much thinner than it currently was. 

Trailing a finger over it, you chewed on your lower lip, feeling your stomach twist. He’d told you about using, but seeing proof of how much he’d struggled just after his daughter was born was a shock. But he’s doing better now, and he’s still in Carmen’s life, and … things are good. 

His past would be something that the two of you needed to discuss in more depth, just so you were on the same page - especially if you stayed in Florida. There was no way around it - the drugs and mission to South America coupled with his adjustment to post-military life and becoming a werewolf were a lot for anyone to deal with. 

But since you knew he’d had talked to so few people, for Frankie, it was likely much more difficult to open up than normal. And I want to help him, if he’ll let me.

After making your coffee, you wandered through the rest of the house, glancing at the books on his shelves. You lingered on a few more photos of him and his family throughout the years and the decor that he’d chosen to fill the space. 

It all made you smile, because the inside of his house was a reflection of Frankie as you knew him. Aside from the hidden millions and the wolf status, he hadn’t lied when he’d said that what you saw was what you got, and that impressed you. Because that isn’t always the case with people.

Curling up on the couch with your mug, you looked around the bright, sunny room and grinned, taking a deep breath. It was a house that you could get used to being in, and the fact that Frankie trusted you to be there alone spoke volumes. 

But the longer you sat, the more your thoughts drifted. And after a little while, they drifted back to the previous night … and what you’d almost said. Is it possible? Could I really… You sipped your coffee and eyed the darkened screen of the TV, thinking. He’d heard you, obviously, and had likely pieced things together, even though you’d managed to keep from finishing your sentence. “But it was right there.” Taking another drink, you closed your eyes. “And I was definitely thinking it.” 

Speaking out loud to the empty house comforted you, as did admitting that what you’d almost said was the truth. 

Nothing about meeting and being with Frankie made any sense. The timeline was expedited. The circumstances were unconventional, to say the least. He was not the type of person you’d ever gravitated toward before, even without the wolf component. But none of that mattered, because from the moment you’d met him, you were drawn to Frankie on every level, and the pull had only intensified as the days passed. 

You wondered exactly how he felt, and what he’d tell you if you asked. 

You were curious to know if he returned your affection to a similar level, or if you were moving too quickly and leaving him behind. It was more than sex for both of you, and he’d been the one to suggest the idea of giving a relationship a shot. But that doesn’t mean he loves me. That doesn’t mean it’s serious for him yet… does it? 

Pushing yourself upright, you went back into the kitchen and cleaned up after yourself, loading the dishes into the dishwasher and then wiping the countertop down. Pausing in front of one of the windows, you stared out and into the back yard, thinking. Your questions needed answers, even if only to give you a better idea where you and Frankie stood … and of what to expect moving forward. 

But more than that, the part of you that craved connection wanted reassurance that even though you’d fallen hard and fast, you weren’t alone in your feelings. You didn’t think you were, especially with the way he’d looked at you and spoken to you, sticking up for you in front of his friends and with Ashley. “I need to fucking go.” Smacking your hand on the counter, you groaned. “I need to be doing something and not just thinking about this.” 

Turning around, your eyes landed on the wall just behind the sink, and you laughed at the sight of it. It was a chalkboard - some of the surface covered in Frankie’s handwriting, other parts featuring notes and drawings from the guys that you snorted as you read through. You had no idea how you’d missed it previously, but with another grin, you reached for a piece of colored chalk and added a message to one of the open spaces. 

LOADED THE DISHWASHER. LEFT @ NOON. CALL ME IF YOU WANT TO. 

Pausing, you chewed on the inside of your cheek and then added the final touch - a heart and your name before spinning away and hurrying back into the bedroom to collect your stuff. 

He’d see it right away, and you knew it. 

And even though it was easily erased, the few words added to the wall were just another example of your insertion into his life … and seeing them next to the ones from his friends made you question things further. And I know I shouldn’t. I know it’s not that big a deal… fuck. 

You got ready to leave in only a few minutes, and when you stepped back into the kitchen to grab the keys, you lingered there, turning in a slow circle. 

Frankie leaving you alone in his home was a big step - no matter how you looked at it. But you still couldn’t get ahead of yourself or expect too much from him. And I won’t. Especially before we find this other wolf. 

The door closed and locked behind you, you headed for your car … but you spent the entire drive home in deep, silent thought. 

— 

Your phone rang almost three hours later, and the number on the screen was one that you didn’t recognize. You contemplated not answering but decided that you needed to, cautiously lifting the device to your ear as you said hello. I don’t know anyone here, and that’s a Florida area code, and … 

“Hey, it’s Pope.” Shoulders slumping in relief, you greeted him. “What are your plans this afternoon?” 

“I don’t have any.” Looking around your apartment, you wrinkled your nose. “I’m working right now, but -”

“Do you want to come over?” His invitation caught you off guard, and before you could reply, he continued. “‘Fish told me where you’re staying, and you’re not too far from Yova and me. You should meet her, and we need to talk.” 

“We do?” He laughed, and you realized how unsure you must have sounded, but Pope replied right away, still laughing. 

“We do. But I swear to god, it’s not the way it sounds.” You agreed, Pope letting you know that he’d be home whenever you wanted to head over. While you got ready, your mind ran wild with thoughts about what Pope wanted to talk to you about - and excitement about meeting Yovanna, who you’d heard a lot about in the weeks since you’d met Frankie and his friends. 

The drive was short, and it turned out that Pope’s house was slightly larger than Frankie’s. But as you pulled into the driveway, you remembered that Tom had told you it wasn’t his, and belonged to his parents. It’s nice, though. 

You parked and headed for the front door, raising your hand to knock. 

Before your knuckles made contact, the door opened and you were met with the smiling face of one of the most beautiful women you’d ever seen. “You must be Yovanna.” She nodded, her eyes widening. “I’m here to see Pope. I’m -”

“You’re Francisco’s.” Her smile grew. “I have heard a lot about you.” She opened the door all the way, inviting you in. “Santiago is outside. I’ll show you where.” She led you through the house, and as you moved, you thought about her words - and how she’d flat out called you Frankie’s, like it was common knowledge. Is it? “Before you go outside, I…” She stopped in the kitchen and turned to face you, blinking rapidly. “What he is, it is … not his fault. Francisco is a good man.” 

“Wait, you…” She knows? Sucking in a breath, you shook your head. “Yovanna, I -”

“They don’t know that I know, but I do.” She reached for your hand. “I’ve seen it before. He’s seguro. Safe, not dangerous. The other one…” She shivered. “Be careful.” Yovanna pointed toward the door with one hand. “Listen to him. To both of them. I -” Your heart was pounding, but instead of interrupting her, you reached over and laid a hand on her shoulder, waiting until she trailed off to speak. 

“I know Frankie’s not dangerous.” She looked relieved, giving you a single nod. “I know it’s not his fault.” Her smile grew again, both of her eyes closing. “I’m here to help him get answers.” That shocked her, but before you could say anything else, she was hugging you, her hold tight. 

“He needs them. Deserves them.” Gesturing when she released you, she chuckled. “I’m going to start making dinner. I’ll let you two talk.” Yovanna turned away from you and then paused, looking back over her shoulder. “If you know about … Francisco, do you know about …”

“The money?” You nodded. “He told me everything.” Yovanna covered her face with both hands, exhaling loudly. And when she lowered them she looked relieved, her eyes shining with tears. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“He needs someone like you.” She wet her lips. “He needed someone like you a long time ago.” Without another word, she left the room, leaving you stunned and standing just inside the door that led to the back yard. 

You were overwhelmed, but didn’t want to keep Pope waiting, and so you headed outside and took a seat next to him on an empty deck chair. “You made it.” He looked over, smiling at you. “Good.” 

“I did.” Getting comfortable, you leaned back and looked out over the yard. “This is your parents’ place, right?”

“Yep. They’re on vacation right now. I paid for ‘em to go back home for a couple months, and my ma says she doesn’t ever want to come back here.” You laughed, watching as Pope rubbed at the back of his neck. “Both my parents were born here, in Florida, but I’ve got a ton of relatives that don’t live in the US, and since I can afford to send my parents to see them… why not?” He shrugged. “They’re happy, and Yova and I get to be here together.” 

“Frankie told me about Australia.” He nodded. “And Tom told me you guys are going back and forth between here and there.” Pope nodded, his eyes on you. “And I get it, Pope. She’s beautiful. And she seems …” Trailing off, you thought for a few seconds. “She seems like she can handle your shit.” 

He snorted, reaching up with one hand to rub at his beard - but he didn’t disagree. “She was the best thing that came outta being down there.The money’s great, but Yova? Fuck. I waited my whole goddamn life for her, and almost lost her for good because I didn’t do anything about it when I should have.” 

“Well you didn’t lose her.” Turning your head to look at him, you shrugged. “She’s here. You’re here. You’re together now, and that’s what matters.” He took a long breath and held it, and when Pope exhaled, he swore. What? What did I say? 

 “D’you know what I see when he looks at you?” He met your gaze, his expression unwavering. “Me, looking at her.” It hit you hard - because you knew that Pope wasn’t the type of man to lie about something so important. But he … he just … “I’ve known Frankie for a long fuckin’ time. And he hasn’t ever been like this with someone. Not even Becca, and there was a couple years when I thought they’d end up together forever.” 

“Pope, it’s only been weeks. We’re still -”

“He told you everything.” Santiago shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head. “He didn’t need to, but he did. He just about attacked Tom last night for giving you shit, and he’s started losing control around you to the fucking point that he can’t keep the wolf entirely at bay. Doesn’t matter if it’s been weeks or months, that shit is the truth, and -”

“I pulled a gun on him.” You looked down at your hands, frowning. “The morning he told me? I don’t know how I got past him and to my room fast enough to grab it, but -”

“And that’s another thing.” He straightened up and then leaned toward you. “The Francisco Morales I know? Never would have let you get to that gun. He never would have given you a chance to aim it. ‘Fish did. He stood there and let you point it at him.” Pope said your name, his smile small but still present. “Keeping you safe is his focus, even if it meant that he might have gotten hurt.” 

That information stunned you. It was something that you should have considered, but you hadn’t. He was in the military for a decade. Of course I shouldn’t have been able to get by him. Of course he could have overpowered me. He’s… “You know why I’m here, Pope.” He nodded, waiting. “For a second, I thought -”

“Did you? Did you really?” He closed his eyes, his fingers curling into a loose fist. “Because I might not know you that well, but if you’ve really been hunting wolves for as long as you say you have, if you thought Frankie was the one you were looking for, you wouldn’t have hesitated to pull that trigger. Instead, you let him explain.” 

“No, I gave him a chance to explain because I lo-” Your mouth snapped shut for the second time in less than twenty four hours, but unlike Frankie simply staying quiet and letting you recover, Pope’s eyes widened and he scoffed, slapping his palm against the arm of the chair. Shit. Shit. 

“I knew it.” His smile widened, the corners of his eyes crinkling in the same way Frankie’s did. “Oh, I can’t wait to tell him how fucking right I was.” 

“You can’t.” Your heart thumped against the back of your ribs, one hand shooting out so that you could grasp Pope’s wrist. “Santiago, it’s not … I can’t. Not until I find the Chaos wolf and deal with it.” You took a deep breath, fingers tightening. “I have to focus. I can’t even think about how much it …  how much he means to me.” 

Saying it out loud felt good, because even though Frankie knew that you cared, admitting how much you cared to someone that wasn’t directly involved was different. And it’s important, because now I can’t just pretend it isn’t the case. “Hey.” He said your name quietly, pulling his arm free from your grip. But instead of withdrawing it entirely, he took your hand in his and squeezed, urging you to meet his eyes.”I won’t say a goddamn word. Not yet. Not until it comes from you, or it comes from him, because it’s not my place.” 

“Really?” He nodded. “Thank you.” It was a relief, but Pope’s words made you wonder just how obvious you were being with your feelings. If he noticed, then Frankie might have, too. And what about the other guys? “No. I didn’t actually think that it was Frankie that was attacking people. And the last thing I was expecting was him to tell me what he is.” 

“But when he did …” Pope squeezed your hand one last time and then let go, pulling his arm up and then crossing both of them over his chest. “What did you do?” It wasn’t the question that you’d expected from him - but based on what you knew about Frankie and his friends, it was probably time that you stopped trying to anticipate how they were going to react. 

“I gave him a chance to explain. And I … told him the truth about myself.” Looking down, you linked your own fingers together, one thumb rubbing over the other’s knuckle. “And then I asked him to stay because I wanted to make sure he got sleep.” 

“You might be,” Pope started speaking, turning his chair toward where you sat before he went on. “You might be the best possible person to know his secret. Because not only do you believe him, you know what he’s going through. You understand wolves and their behavior, and thanks to your cousin, you know that it’s possible to be with one without problems.” 

“That’s why I’m worried.” Giving him a tight smile, you blinked back tears. “Pope, what if all of this is because everything is falling into place just right? What if none of this would be happening if he wasn’t a wolf and I wasn’t hunting them? What if he’s just lonely, and I’m a convenient -”

“‘Fish might not have had anything consistent in his life since he was bitten, but I wouldn’t say he’s been lonely.” He arched a brow. “He’s had no problem keeping all this shit separate from what he does in the bedroom before.” That gave you pause, and even though it stung to think about Frankie with other women, Pope’s words rang true. “But that’s one of the reasons I asked you to come over.” 

You’d wondered when that topic would come up. Pope’s invitation had been friendly, but there was business to discuss, and it seemed you’d finally worked around to that topic. “What reason?” 

“He wants you to see him on the night of a full moon.” You nodded, unsurprised that Pope knew. “And you know that one of us is always with him on those nights, just to keep an eye on things … and on him,” 

“Yes. He told me. And he showed me the tracker.” Pope dragged his fingers through this hair, narrowing his eyes, though he didn’t look away from you. “And yeah. I do want to go with him next time. What’s the problem with that?”

“We made a promise to him. All of us. And as much as we care about him, we’d honor it.” Your blood ran cold at he implication of his words. They’d promised that if Frankie ever hurt anyone - or presented the threat of real danger - they’d take care of it. And I don’t know that I could. I don’t know that I’d be able to. “Could you shoot him? Could you look him in the eye - man or wolf - and pull that trigger if you needed to? If he asked you to?” 

“I …” Your heartbeat quickened again, mouth hanging slightly open. “Pope, I don’t…” Even as you floundered, you knew the answer. “No. No, I don’t think I could. Not … now. Maybe if I saw him hurting someone, but not after the fact.” He didn’t look surprised, but Pope’s expression gave nothing else away, either. “Could you?” 

“I’d have to.” He shook his head, licking his lips. “I wouldn’t want to, but ‘Fish couldn’t live with himself knowing that he hurt someone. And we’d never let him do something to himself that might get back to Carmen later. We promised.” That was understandable; protecting his daughter would always be the most important thing for them. And I get it. I get it, but what is the point of this? “The reason I’m asking you any of this is because if you want to go with him, and he wants you to go with him alone, you’re going to have to be able to make this promise, too.” 

“And what if I can’t?” Your stomach was churning, but you didn’t want Pope to know. “Does that mean I can never -”

“It means that you might have to have one of us there with you, and he’s not going to like that.” Pope shrugged, letting out a deep sigh. “I wanted to talk to you about this first, because I figured you’d be a little more reasonable. ‘Fish is … stubborn. And it’s not like we’d be right there next to you, but this while thing has only worked because we have a system, and that can’t change.” 

He was right, and you knew it. 

Having a second person with you and Frankie on the night of a full moon, at least for the first few times, was the right decision. It meant someone being there if things went sideways. It meant that you’d have backup. It meant that another one of them would see that you could be trusted with their friend’s secret, and that you could handle yourself around Frankie’s wolf. But I don’t like it, because the first time he shows someone, it should be private. 

“Who? You went with him last month. Would it be you next month, too?”

“It’s Will’s turn.” Pope’s reply was immediate, his voice even. “And that might be the best thing for everyonr, because he’s not emotional. Me an’ Benny … we are. Tom too. But Ironhead isn’t … reckless. He’d be a good one for you to be out there with.” 

Neither of you said anything else, and for a few long moments, you and Pope stared out over the well-kept yard. He wasn’t telling you that you couldn’t go, or that he thought it was a bad idea for you to see Frankie’s change. He wasn’t advising against your presence, or trying to downplay your barely-established place in Frankie’s life. He’s just trying to keep people safe. 

“I have to do what’s best for Frankie.” You nodded, blowing out a breath and closing your eyes. “And for everyone else. The last thing I want to do is put anyone at risk, but I’d be lying if I told you that it wasn’t disappointing that we wouldn’t have privacy.”

“You would.” He adjusted his position, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “There’s a blind up in the trees about fifty yards from the RV. You can see everything from up there, but you can’t hear unless someone’s yelling. We used it the first couple times we were there with him, just to have a backup - someone on the ground, someone in the trees.” 

“So we’d have guns on us.” Pope flinched - barely, but you caught it nonetheless. Well, fuck. “I can’t speak for him, but if that’s what you think needs to happen, then yeah.” Reaching out, you took Pope’s hand in yours. “I trust you. I trust your friends, and if that’s what it takes… it’s what we’ll do.”

He looked relieved, almost like he’d expected you to fight him on someone else being there. But why would I? I’ve already admitted that I don’t think I could hurt him. “We’ll talk to ‘Fish. This shouldn’t be on you.” You agreed, giving him a quick smile before you let go of his hand and leaned back in your chair, averting your eyes. “How’s your cousin?”

You hadn’t expected Pope to ask, but you were grateful that he had. “He’s better. The wound got infected, so they’ve been trying to knock that back, but according to his fiancee, he’s going to be fine otherwise. No bite. Nothing lasting physically, except some scars. If she hadn’t been there, or been what she is, it would be a different story.” 

“You’re not worried about something like that happening to you?” Glancing over, he frowned at you. “Being on your own? What would you have done if you’d found a wolf? 

“I would have dealt with it.” You rubbed the side of your neck, thinking. “I’m always armed while hunting. I know where to aim on a wolf to incapacitate it until morning. That I can do. But shooting someone I know? That I care about?” That’s different.

“But you’re not afraid?” He bit down on his lower lip, sighing. “Seeing Frankie for the first time fucking terrified me. I don’t think you understand how big he is. If I’d been alone, I would have lost my shit.” 

“I’m always afraid, Pope. But I can’t let that stop me. It’s what’s expected because of -”

“Your family. I know.” You caught the roll of his eyes, along with his exasperated chuckle. “He told me all about it. I don’t mean to be an asshole, but it’s kinda bullshit that they’ve put this all on you.” 

“I don’t disagree, but I don’t want to be the one to stop. Why do I get to make that decision?”

“Because you found a reason to stop?” Pope stood, turning so that he could look at where you sat. “Because you decided you wanted to have a life that you chose instead of just doing what was expected of you?” And there’s a fourth. Covering your face with both hands, you rubbed at your eyes. 

Ashley and Alec telling you to choose yourself was one thing; they were actively involved in your life, and knew the burden you’d been entrusted with - and what living with it meant. Frankie, after spending years in the military and then getting saddled with an uncontrollable and unfair outcome advising you to put yourself first also made sense, especially since he was doing it because he cared about you. 

But Pope, someone that didn’t know you well and only knew the basics of your situation doing the same - simply because he wanted you and his friend to have a legitimate shot at whatever happiness looked like for the two of you? That was a shock. Because he understands responsibility. He understands honor.  

“Pope, I …” Raising your head, you eyed him where he stood, one hand on his hip. “I appreciate what you’re saying, but -”

“No one can choose this for you, and I get that.” He wet his lips, lowering himself so that he was squatting down in front of you, at eye level. “But maybe you shouldn’t be afraid to choose it for yourself, y’know?” 

Before either of you could say anything else, the back door opened and Yovanna called out. Pope’s eyes moved from your face to look over your shoulder. Nice save, Yova. “Are you staying to eat? It’s going to be ready soon.” 

“Stay.” Pope murmured the word, nodding once. “No more of this. Just let her grill you about ‘Fish.” That got a smile out of you and you agreed, turning your head toward where the woman stood. That sounds like a good time. 

“Yes. I’d like that a lot. Can I help?” She waved you off and went back inside, and then Pope stood too, the tension between you lessening almost entirely. “You’re not the first person to suggest that to me this week. And you probably won’t be the last, either.” He grinned, the expression taking years off of his face. “He’s lucky to have a friend like you.”

“I know. I don’t ever let him forget it, either.” Pope winked and then stood back up, holding his hand out. “Come on. I’ll show you where everything is. She won’t let us help in the kitchen but we can get shit set up out here on the table.” 

The two of you worked quickly, only needing a few minutes to get everything into place. Pope excused himself to go inside and check on the other woman, which you knew was only an excuse to disappear and kiss her senseless next to the sink, but you didn’t mind. You needed the break to collect your thoughts, and wanted a chance to check your phone. 

There was a missed call from Frankie from only a few minutes earlier, along with a picture message from Alec - of him and Ashley, both of them sitting outside in the hospital’s courtyard. Sending back a quick message to him first - looking good, glad you’re getting some fresh air! - you dialed Frankie’s number, raising the device to your ear. 

He answered on the second ring, and at the sound of his voice, you realized he was in the truck, playing your call through the speakers. “Sorry I missed you, what’s -”

“I just wanted to let you know I’m not going to be able to talk until later.” He sighed, only pausing for a second before he continued. “Carmen’s sick, and she’s asking for me, so I’m on my way to Lakeland. I’m gonna spend the night and go straight to work tomorrow.”

“Is she ok?” You held the phone tighter, trying to figure out just how much panic was in his voice. “What happened?”

“She’s going to be fine. Just has a fever. Probably picked it up at daycare. Becca said I didn’t need to come, that I could just call, but …”

“Of course you’d go.” Turning in a slow circle, you peeked in through the kitchen window, watching as Pope and Yovanna laughed together, the man standing behind her with his arms around her waist as she finished the meal. They’re so happy. “I hope seeing you makes things better for her.” 

“What time did you leave?” His tone softened, and you could picture Frankie’s smile, the corners of his mouth lifted as he watched the road ahead. “You sleep in?”

“Noon. And I did. All that room? I stretched out.” He laughed then, the sound coming through the speaker clearly. 

“It was hard to leave this morning. Wanted to stay in bed with you.” Biting the inside of your cheek, you tried to decide how to answer, and then opted for the truth - something that a week prior, you never would have admitted out loud.

“I missed you after you left. But…” Looking away from Pope and Yovanna, you inhaled. “I liked waking up in your bed, Frankie.” 

“You could do it more.” He cleared his throat. “Whenever you wanted to, and -”

“Dinner’s ready!” Pope’s voice was loud, and interrupted Frankie. “Come and get your plate.” 

“Where are you?” He was confused, and you held back your laugh. “Is that Pope?”

“It is. He invited me over to meet Yovanna and so that we could talk, and now I’m having dinner with them.” You wondered what was going through Frankie’s mind, or if he was angry that you were spending time with his friends without him - if he felt like you were going behind his back. ‘I didn’t think to -”

“What are you having? I’m fucking jealous. I haven’t had her cooking in a couple months.” Pope watched you expectantly, gesturing at the doorway. You made your way toward it, grinning. 

“No idea. But it smells amazing.” 

“She’ll bring you back a plate, ‘Fish.” Pope spoke loudly, leaning in when you got close. “We know how to share.” Frankie laughed at his words and so did you. Pope gave you a nod before leaning back inside and closing the door, giving you a few seconds to say goodbye. 

“I’m getting a hotel tonight. Can I call you later?” 

“Of course. I’ll be home after dinner.” Resting your hand on the door frame, you nodded. “I hope Carmen’s ok, and that a hug from her dad’s all she needs to feel better.” 

“I do too.” He sighed, your name quiet through the phone. “Go eat. And don’t believe a word Pope says about me. They’re all lies and he’s just trying to impress his girl.” 

You were both laughing when you hung up. But when you entered the kitchen and took the plate Yovanna held out to you, all you could focus on was the fact that for the second time in as many days, you didn’t feel like an outsider. 

Not only had you been accepted by Frankie, but his friends had taken an interest in you, too … even when he wasn’t around. 

— 

Over the course of the next few weeks, you continued your research during the day while Frankie worked. 

The weather held, even as September stretched on. And though it wasn’t your favorite place that you’d ever been, you started to see the appeal of Florida. 

Once the beaches cleared out, they became a good place to go and read through your notes. The threat of hurricanes forming in the Gulf didn’t seem to deter many residents from planning and participating in outdoor activities, but there was a definite drop in crowd density on the sand as the days passed and people returned to work and school. 

Frankie’s flight load dropped, too, though he warned you that the closer it got to the winter holidays, the busier he’d get again. You didn’t know if you’d still be in Florida for those holidays, but a large part of you hoped that you would - and you knew that Frankie felt the same. 

The two of you spent most nights together, going over your notes and coming up with theories. Frankie was helpful, the man’s eyes on your previous work helping you to pinpoint a few things that you hadn’t missed, but also hadn’t assumed might be important. 

It gave you hope that between you, you’d be able to pinpoint where the Chaos wolf would strike - and after seeing where he went the night you were with Frankie, you figured you’d have an even better idea. And see if our theory is correct. 

Frankie believed that once the wolf ran out of larger park locations, it would begin the cycle all over again. You thought that he was probably right, but if that was the case, then the next location had a 50% chance of being the park that the RV was in… and that worried you. Because it’s where we’ll be … and Frankie will want to fight.

Alec and Ashley left Florida just under two weeks out from the attack, and though you’d gotten to say goodbye, it was bittersweet. He’d left all of his notes with you, along with a few weapons and tools, which was confirmation that he was done - and you were in fact alone in the hunt. 

But more than that, Alec’s parting words had struck a nerve, the man looking you in the eye and making you promise that you wouldn’t spend the rest of your life on an impossible revenge mission, especially when you had something good right in front of you. You agreed, the words tasting like poison as you spoke them, and even though a large part of you meant it, there was still another part that couldn’t fathom abandoning your mission, even for someone - and something - like Frankie. 

Frankie and Ashley spoke for a few minutes, too, and you heard her reiterate her invitation to Texas, Frankie’s enthusiasm in accepting making you grin. There was no repeat of the first meeting; they greeted each other and then spoke like longtime friends. You were thankful for it, the woman hugging him tightly and then pulling you off to the side to give him a minute with Alec. 

That conversation was slightly less friendly - if their facial expressions were anything to go by. But like with his confrontation with Tom, you didn’t pry Frankie for the contents of it. If he wanted to tell me, he would. He didn’t, though, instead telling you not to worry about anything, and to focus on what the two of you needed to: the coming full moon.  

Days continued to pass, and as they did, you and Frankie grew closer. 

There were no more almost slips, despite your growing emotional connection. You slowly stopped worrying about it being too much, too fast, and just let things happen - because he did the same, and it felt good. 

You saw his friends occasionally, stopping into the bar or going to dinner with Pope or Will and their significant others. You texted back and forth with Benny, and even met Tom’s daughter and wife one night, Frankie introducing you in the lobby of a movie theater. Tessa and Molly were nice, and you were stunned at the difference in Tom when he was with them. 

In the span of two months, you’d inserted yourself into Frankie’s life almost seamlessly. It was comforting, but at the same time, it scared you. 

It scared you because of how well you fit. It worried you because you had the feeling that it couldn’t - and wouldn’t - last. You’d had a few disagreements, but nothing serious, and part of you wondered if it was because he was afraid of angering you and forcing your hand in exposing him. You wouldn’t do that - and Frankie knew it, but it still ate away at you that there was no certain way for you to know exactly why he was the way he was with you. 

One of the disagreements you did have was about Will coming with the two of you during the next full moon. Thankfully, you didn’t have much to do when it came to justifying that decision. Will did it for you while the three of you had a beer together on Frankie’s covered porch, the sounds of early autumn echoing around you in the darkness. 

“So about next week, ‘Fish.” Will took a pull from the bottle, looking over at where the two of you were sitting together on the couch. You had your feet on Frankie’s lap, the man’s thumb rubbing lazily over the inside of your ankle. Here we go. “I’m the one going with you, and -”

“Won’t need you this month, Ironhead.” His fingers tightened and then loosened, Frankie’s voice even. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about that.” Looking over at Will, you took a deep breath. “I want her t-”

“Frankie.” You sat all the way up, swinging your feet down so that you could move closer to him. “Give him a chance to finish.” 

“So you’ve already talked about this?” He dragged his fingers through his hair, letting out a harsh laugh. “Made plans behind my back?” 

“No.” Will leaned in, head shaking back and forth. “Not behind your back. And of course you’d have the final decision, but it’s something … that needs to be discussed.” 

You reached over and settled your hand on Frankie’s leg, though you stayed quiet. “What?” He snapped the single word out, looking at his friend with narrowed eyes. “What needs to be discussed?” 

“You made us make you a promise. And the only way we can keep that promise is if one of us is there, ‘Fish.” Will clasped his hands together, raising and lowering his shoulders in a shrug. “Any one of us is going to be able to do what we need to do if we need to do it, but she … we don’t know if she will.” 

“”It’s been almost three years. I’ve never ever given anyone the idea that I might -”

“Frankie, I wasn’t even able to follow through when I was on high alert in my apartment, and you were human. What happens if something happens, and you’re a wolf?” Slipping your fingers between his, you let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know what would be worse, not being able to pull that trigger when I need to, or forcing one of your friends to do it after you did something you regret.” 

“So both of you think I’m not going to be able to control myself.” He shifted next to you, but didn’t try to pull his hand free. That’s something. “Both of you are afraid that I’m going to all of a sudden lose my shit, and -”

“No.” Will leaned in, pressing the heel of one hand to his forehead. “But another thing to worry about is that this other wolf might show up. And we’re all used to how you act on all fours, ‘Fish, but she isn’t. If she hesitates and it’s not you?” Will’s gaze flicked over to you and lingered. “That’s not something you’d come back from.” 

You hadn’t even thought of that - if you were in the middle of the forest and the other wolf made an appearance, you thought you’d be able to do what was necessary. But if it’s dark and all I see is a wolf, of course I’m going to hesitate until I know it’s not him. “Shit.” You tightened your grip on Frankie’s hand and then let go, covering your face with both of them. “Frankie, he’s right about that. Pope brought up one of them coming with us because it made sense, but I didn’t even think about the other wolf being there and my hesitation waiting to see if it’s you.” 

He didn’t speak right away, but when you peeked over at Frankie, you saw that some of the anger had bled from his body. Instead he looked worried, lips pressed together and a deep furrow between his brows. “So what’s… what’s the long term plan, Ironhead? It’s always going to be one of you and her there? It can’t ever just be me and my -” 

That time, it was Frankie that stopped himself, mouth snapping shut and his shoulders going rigid. Your what? 

“No. Not always. She’d just need to get used to you and the routine before it could be her only.” Will licked his lips, giving you a quick smile. “I think that’s fair. We started out two of us at a time, right?” 

“Yeah.” Frankie lowered his head. “So what, you’d just be in the RV? I kinda wanted it to just be us when I show her -”

“The blind.” Will leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ll be able to see everything and can act if I need to, but you’ll be by yourselves on the ground.” 

“It’s up to you, Frankie.” You shifted closer, reaching for his hand again. “But I don’t think it’s a bad idea, especially if I’d be going out there again after this time. Will can show me the ropes, and give me an idea of what to look for and what to expect from you when you’re a wolf.” 

“We’re trying to keep everyone safe, ‘Fish. Just like always.” You waited - eyeing Frankie as he collected his thoughts. A quick glance at Will resulted in an almost imperceptible nod from the blonde, his head tipped to one side as he watched you. Lighten the mood. Say something to him. 

“I have been thinking about sponsoring one of those sharks with the trackers.” You nudged Frankie with one elbow, letting yourself smile. “But maybe Will can show me how to use your GPS, and then I won’t need to. I’ll have my own -”

“Fuck off.” Frankie yanked his hand free and then wrapped both arms around you, pulling you closer to his chest. You laughed but wound your arms around him, closing your eyes in relief. It’s going to be alright. “You’re right though, Ironhead. Last thing I want to do is leave her alone in the middle of the woods at night on a full moon. I know what’s out there.” And so do I. “Would you stay up in the trees all night?”

“Nah. I’d wait til you were gone and then come down. No reason to stay up there all night, unless you think I need to.” Will was speaking out loud, but you could tell from his facial expressions that he and Frankie were also having a silent conversation. In a split second, you realized that it was likely about the other wolf. But I’m not supposed to know that they’re hunting it too. I’m not supposed to know anything about that side of it, and … 

It would have made everything much simpler if you’d just admitted who you were and what you were doing in Florida. You would have been able to plan with Frankie and his friends, instead of there being two separate scenarios at all times. 

The inability to do so was frustrating, and there was a a part of you that wanted to speak up - to clue Will in, even though it made things more dangerous. Maybe we can talk about it next week. 

“Alright.” Frankie sighed, loosening his hold on you. “I guess I don’t really have a choice in this, but I get it.” You opened your mouth to speak - to tell him that he did have a choice - but he beat you to it, leaning in and kissing you before you could. “If you’re gonna be around you need to know.” Mumbling the words, he nodded before pulling away. “And there’s nobody better to be there with you than Will Miller.” .

A quick glance at Will told you that he was relieved there’d only been a little pushback. It could have gone much worse. You were thankful it hadn’t, because the last thing you wanted was Frankie to be angry with you - or annoyed with any of his friends. Because he needs them. Settling back, you leaned your head against his shoulder, only halfway paying attention as the two of them started talking again. 

And I need him. 

— 

[racergirl-112]

Push Me Over - Chapter 9: Wreck Me Again

**Photo Cred: Google**

MDNI

Warnings: Language, talks of depression

Dani got to set a while later and saw the paper in her door, she grabbed it and walked inside, setting her stuff down and sitting on her couch. She opened the letter and read what Hugh had to say. She began to cry as she knew this not only solidified her loving this man, but he felt the same way about her. She wanted to talk to him, but knew she didn’t want to be some kind of secret. She set the letter down and began to get ready. 

On today’s episode of trying to not make the people around them feel uncomfortable, Dani and Hugh had to work together on a fight scene. They were set to fight each other, getting them ready for the fight with Cassandra’s people. 

“Alright Hugh, you’re going to come at her with the claws and she is going to zap you. She will end up on top of you when it’s said and done and Logan is supposed to be angry he lost, but turned on that she’s this close to him,” Shawn finished. 

Hugh looked at Dani and vice versa as they nodded in agreement. The crew staging them for the scene and rigging them up. 

“And action,” Shawn yelled. ***************

Stargazer charged at Logan in an attempt to get the leg up on him or to maybe show off as well. Logan catches her with his claws as Stargazer zaps him, throwing him back. 

“Is that all you got, Bub?” he snarls. 

“We’re just getting started,” she smirks. She comes at him again as he catches her by the waist and throws her on the ground. She lets out a scoff. 

“Is this funny to you?” he asks, standing over her. 

“Maybe I just like it,” she jokes, launching herself upward and toward Logan. They continue to fight until one of Stargazer’s zaps sends them into each other, both falling to the ground, her on top of him. 

“You’re a fucking smartass,” Logan smirks. 

“I think it turns you on,” she whispers, their lips inches apart. 

Logan goes to kiss her, but Wade interrupts them.

“Oh yay, he does have a heart and a hard-on after all,” he jokes. Both Logan and Stargazer roll their eyes as they get up off the ground. ************************************************

“And cut,” Shawn said. “That was amazing you two. I can’t wait to see how it looks with all the special effects thrown in.”  

Ryan walked over to where Hugh and Dani stood. “If you two haven’t already fucked, I’d say that scene might as well sent you two over the edge,” he whispered. 

Dani’s eyes got wide at his comment, before covering her face laughing. Hugh also started laughing. 

“Let’s take a break for a bit and we’ll get back to it.” 

Hugh walked over to where his phone was and saw Deb had replied to his text. He walked off set for privacy, hoping to get the news out there sooner than later. 

One Week Later

Hugh and Deb had decided after their phone call what they wanted to say regarding their divorce and after talking to the kids, they agreed when the statement would be released. He felt like it had been the longest week ever. For once, even if the news wasn’t going to be the happiest, it meant that he could be with Dani. Well, if she still wanted to be. 

Today, they were filming the scene where the crew was headed to fight Cassandra. Dani had to sit in the trunk of the van with Hugh. His eyes locked on her and probably her tits that were pushed so far up in her costume. 

“Hey old man, my face is up here,” she joked, trying to break the tension. 

“Oh I know sweetheart,” he replied. “I told you before, I like the view.” Dani should have known that shit would backfire on her. 

Before they began filming, Ryan came to the back of the van. “Hugh, did you know this was published?” He showed his phone to Hugh. The headline reading, Hugh Jackman and wife Deborra-Lee Furness divorce after 27 years of marriage. The couple say they have nothing but respect and love for one another and won’t be commenting any further on the matter.” 

Dani’s face was white as a ghost as Shawn came walking up. “Sorry man, I know it must be hard,” he said, putting his hand on Hugh’s shoulder. He looked at his niece who looked like she might throw up. 

“You ok kiddo?” her uncle asked. 

“Yeah, sure,” she stammered, looking up at Hugh. Her eyes as big as a deer in headlights. 

“Hey Shawn, let’s take 5,” Ryan suggested. The rest of the cast got out of the van, leaving Hugh and Dani. 

“What, why?” she finally mustered. 

“Why not?” he started. “It was bound to get out sometime. It was time for everyone to know. Deb and I knew it was a matter of time.” 

“Hugh, if this is because of what I said…,” she started.

“Dani, listen, you weren’t the cause or the reason. We needed to move on to the next chapter of our lives.” 

Dani just looked dumbfounded, but maybe also relieved. Before she had a chance to reply with something she was going to regret, she removed herself from the situation, getting out of the van and walking back to her trailer. 

“What the fuck was that about? Sorry about that Hugh, Dani isn’t usually like that,” Shawn said. Ryan looked at Hugh. 

“It’s fine. It’s my fault,” he answered. 

“I don’t see how her attitude is your fault,” Shawn replied. Hugh looked at his friend and director with a look that helped Shawn register pretty fast why he said what he said. He pulled Hugh off to the side. “My niece? Fuck, seriously?”

“I’m sorry Shawn. We were afraid to tell anyone, especially her with telling you. She broke it off with me for that purpose and the fact that only a few people knew I was divorced, including her. She’s spectacular.” He watched his friend’s face start to relax. 

“If this works or if it doesn’t, don’t let it ruin your professional relationship. Also, I don’t want to know what a guy who is also one of my best friends is doing with my niece. Now go get her so we can finish shooting.” 

“You got it,” Hugh replied, a huge smile on his face. He went jogging out of the soundstage to the trailer lot. It had begun to rain as he reached Dani’s trailer. He knocked on the door, still in costume. She came to the door, her eyes red and puffy from crying. 

“Can’t you just let me have some space?” she asked, standing in the door, arms crossed.

“Please come out here,” he started. 

“Why?” she challenged. 

“Just do it, please.” She exited the trailer and to where he stood, her arms crossed. “Just so you know, I can’t stay away from you. I did it all for you and for me to be able to be with you. Your Uncle knows too.” 

“What the fuck, Hugh,” she started, covering her face with her hand. He pulled her to him. 

“I did it for us. I’ve fallen in love with you Dani,” he replied, cupping her cheek and kissing her with such force, it felt like lightning strikes throughout her body. 

“Wait, you love me? Isn’t it a bit soon?” she breathed, breaking the kiss. He shook his head. 

“I can’t explain how I feel about you any other way.” Dani wanted to give in so bad, but he literally just announced his divorce that day. She backed away as she could feel the tears beginning to form in her eyes. 

“Hugh,” she whispered, the tears beginning to fall. “Can we talk about this later? This isn’t the place.” She walked back into her trailer, shutting the door and sinking to the floor as she knew she hadn’t just broken Hugh’s heart, but obviated hers at the same time. She pulled herself together the best she could before going back to set. 

He felt like someone had gut-punched him and this one was hurting almost as bad as when he and Deb had decided to divorce. Maybe he had been out of the game for so long that he had overstepped, but he knew he loved her. Plain and simple. He hoped she would actually talk to him and tell him what was really bothering her because it had to be more than just him being newly divorced. 

Ryan was talking to Shawn when they saw Hugh and Dani walk back on set, not together. Dani went back to where she had been staged earlier as Ryan caught Hugh. 

“What the fuck happened?” Ryan questioned. 

“She said she couldn’t do it right now. It fucking hurt mate.” 

“It’s ok man. Maybe she’ll come around if you care about her that much.” Hugh shrugged, defeated. As Hugh walked over to the van, Ryan looked over at Dani and could clearly tell she wasn’t taking the situation well either, but she was holding it together the best she could. Even if they could act fine around each other to finish this movie, he knew that these two lit up around each other and he was determined in their own time to help them along.

@kellyxo1

[britcision]

Anyway I dunno how helpful this is gonna be to anyone but me, but uh… I… may have made a lil summary list of all the chapters of Dungeon Meshi by who’s in them and the vaguest description of what happens

(This began when I was trying to see if Chilchuck and Mithrun had been in a single panel together pre finale for Fanfic Reasons - they had been

One. Single. Panel.

Before Mithrun fucked off upstairs at Thistle’s house)

There are OBVIOUSLY spoilers it’s chapter by chapter but I like being able to pinpoint where the fuck to search for random obscure details so: Spoilers Below The Cut

DunMeshi chapters

1 - Falin goes down, leaving the dungeon, meeting Senshi. Giant scorpion hot pot

2 - man eating plants vs plant eating man

3 - basilisk hunting, meeting Doni and Fonil

4 - how not to pick mandrakes

5 - Chilchuck the trap expert, cooking with traps

6 - living armour, Laios first death

7 - analyzing and eating the living armour, Kensuke acquired

8 - Senshi and the golems

9 - veggie knight Laios, meeting the orcs

10 - meeting Kabru, treasure bugs

11 - spirit sorbet

12 - living paintings, first sighting of Thistle

13 - Chilchuck vs Mimics

14 - hair is important for magic, Anne actually does not like you sir, kelpie soap

15 - corpse collectors find Kabru, Kabru Swears Revenge, instant mermaid tpk, mermaids hate Laios’ singing

16 - kraken attack, parasites in parasites

17 - Marcille and Falin flashback, making fake dungeons, the natural dungeon, rip Laios

18 - planning rests, Marcille vs the Undine, Marcille low on mana - need lots of iron, Namari approaches

19 - Namari and the Tances meet Laios and co, the Undine is Super Duper Mad Actually, how resurrection works in the dungeon, fun with tentacles

20 - the undine fight part 2, trying to send Marcille to the surface for mana reasons with Namari and the Tances, Namari discovers the adamantine wok, Tances to the surface

21 - Laios and co down the shortcut full of tentacles, frog suits

22 - Tances to the governor, Namari and the twins visit a resurrection centre and bond

23 - Laios and co down to the castle town, how to fight the dragon awake and without Shuro? Mapping the town, planning

24 - leading the dragon around, Kensuke defects, stabbing feet is mid actually

25 - backup plan, let’s stand on a pot full of fireworks, the sacrifice play, Laios may learn some healing spells pls

26 - flashbacks with Laios, Falin, and the puppers, healing everyone up, excavating the dragon’s stomach and also guts

27 - putting the bones together, not enough left to reach the surface, it’s Fucked Up Necromancy Time, we gots a FALIN

28 - rest and recovery, dragon cooking season, Falin’s a lil OP now, Thistle Has Opinions

29 - hey guess what there’s still dragon in there, Thistle and Falin vs Laios and co, ghost rescue

30 - orcs on the fifth floor, Chilchuck would like his friends to live please, retreating to the surface?

31 - well shit going back is less easy than it looks, the moving maze, dryad snacks

32 - Tance resurrects Kabru and co, Kabru Swears To Go Home And Chill, attack of the corpse collectors, Kabru Has Morals

33 - Kabru and co working out who keeps “stealing” their stuff, a look at Laios and co from the outside and they all look shifty, sea serpent, Shuro and co meet Kabru and co

34 - teaching Laios healing magic, infinite energy in the dungeon, Laios mana sickness, the castle town is moving again, cockatrice, Marcille is petrified and pickling

35 - Chilchuck maps the dungeon city’s changes, dungeon cleaners, Shuro and Kabru and co arrive

36 - Kabru is kinda creepy okay, Chilchuck has something almost like a map, So Did You Fucking Save Falin (it’s complicated), Splitting The Party But For Safety Reasons, Laios tells Shuro and Kabru what has been happening including his Questionable Decisions, Shuro Backstory Via Maizuru

37 - Shuro is stabby and Kabru is a dick, HARPIES, Laios Maybe Should Not Have Told Shuro, Falin on the rampage

38 - Kabru Fucking Murders Falin (or DID he), reviving everyone, Laios vs Shuro, Marcille can MAYBE heal people I GUESS, Kabru has anatomy question, monster dinner for Kabru, Kabru and Shuro’s combined co go back to the surface and leave their supplies behind

39 - Suspiciously Convenient Downwards Stairs, why are we being attacked anyway, shapeshifters are just like us actually, Laios and all his impressions are super obvious so you can’t be mad

40 - Laios and crew with the shapeshifters cooking challenge

41 - Izutsumi joins the party, use your tools properly, decursing Izutsumi

42 - nightmares, Laios and Marcille

43 - reaching where the dragon fight took place, ice golem, Izutsumi and Chilchuck bond

44 - Izutsumi gets Namari’s coat, flashbacks with Izutsumi, barometz

45 - Kabru and Shuro’s crews reach the surface, Canaries reach the governor and Kabru reports, Laios Sees Dead People

46 - spirit kidnapping, the Golden Country and domesticated monsters, the mad sorcerer’s curse, Prophecies And You

47 - dungeon pancakes in the golden company, Yaad experiences Consequences, frozen over floor, That Is A Griffin Not A Falin

48 - griffin done kidnapped Senshi, making familiars, it turns out crafting skills are important, Senshi rescue

49 - Senshi’s Tragic Backstory™️, griffin vs hippogriff soup

50 - first changeling day! Elf Senshi, through the golden door

51 - changeling’d Laios and co vs gargoyles, We Are The Mushroom Circle, wash up

52 - dwarf elevator, Falin and Laios backstory, Canaries reach the dungeon

53 - Kabru, Namari, Canaries, the shadow governor and Mithrun being intensely fuckable

54 - Kabru, Namari and Shuro, mushrooms attack, Thistle Sighted

55 - Mithrun vs Thistle Round 1, Laios’ party have been changelinged take 2 (ogre Marcille) and eating ointment

56 - bicorn Laios’ party, the Chilchuck wife reveal

57 - flashback Falin and Laios take Marcille to the dungeon for the first time, headless horseman comes for some bicorn

58 - Laios’ party, succubi attack and the party goes down, Izutsumi focused

59 - Izutsumi’s succubi and party replenishment

60 - Laios’ succubus dreams and winged lion conversation, Laios the Dungeon Lord

61 - Kabru backstory reveal, Mithrun’s broke ass self reveal, Be sure not to want too much, The Ship Begins

62 - Mithrun the Dungeon Lord, footrubs work fuck you, their week alone and teleport scroll to meet up with the Canaries

63 - Laios and crew find Thistle’s house, phoenix fight and cooking, found book 1

64 - Marcille opens the book, need to make a meal for Falin

65 - dungeon rabbits and Marcille’s corpse tour

66 - top floor of the dungeon, Bickering Next To Holes Is Bad Actually, Kabru and the Canaries have a snack and Mithrun will not fucking stop staring, Laios and crew prepare a meal, Thistle is Suffering

67 - flashbacks with Laios and Falin, Laios kills Falin, Ready to take and have something taken

68 - Thistle’s backstory, someone has CLEANED, fuck you winged dragon

69 - Thistle and the Dragons nearly rock up a tpk

70 - Thistle shoulda researched dragons more

71 - Laios bondages Thistle to solve problems, Thistle instead creates a new problem

71.1 - Daydream Hour 4, character sketches, Canaries

72 - Thistle’s Brand New Feeder Fantasies, winged dragon eats Thistle and frees Laios and co to recover, Izutsumi finds Yaad

73 - Marcille is hung over, the Canaries and Kabru reach Thistle’s house, Cithis decides it’s hypno-time and Mithrun hunts down Thistle for round 2 (unneeded)

74 - Mithrun constantly accidentally menaces Marcille, Marcille unseals the winged dragon

75 - Mithrun vs Demon round 1, Marcille becomes Dungeon Lord and spiders it up

76 - Kabru, Canaries, Laios and co aftermath of Marcille’s leaving, dealing with the injured, Kabru sucks at explanations and Lycion is impatient, Canaries lose Laios and co

77 - orcs have captured Shuro and Namari, the dungeon shifts

78 - monsters running rampant, Namari and Shuro and Flamelle trying to work out what to do to save the world, sides picked for/against Laios as Dungeon Lord (he isn’t but okay)

79 - Marcille sees Falin and her dad, Laios and crew don’t drown yet, the Canary familiar army gets weird and eats them and promptly regrets it

80 - pooped out by coatl, Laios and co reunite with Marcille to discuss wtf, demon is a stripper, Laios says maybe stop Marcille says stay in the kitchen and make me a sammich

81 - Laios and co getting into Marcille’s past with FakeDad, do in fact make her a sammich, it does not work and subterfuge is still needed to escape

82 - phone calls on the surface, dungeon is leaking

83 - Kabru and the Canaries see the crack, monsters line up for combat, Marcille gets a new outfit that 1000% does not stop Mithrun from coming for her ass, Mithrun vs Marcille round 2 but he’s been listening and totally tries talking her down one whole time, Canaries tpk’d except Lycion

84 - Laios rescues Lycion, reconnects with Kabru Shuro and Namari, demon shares its goals and sides square up to contain the dungeon, monsters stop to let Laios and co through to see Marcille

85 - Laios and co find Falin in the tower, Marcille drowning in desires but the strongest one is for DRAMA (Chilchuck’s family)

86 - monsters will not listen to Marcille’s stop, sealing the bookhand demon, How do I stop being a dungeon lord?, Laios offers to defeat the demon and resurrects Mithrun on that alone so he signs off on eating Falin

86.1 - Daydream Hour 5, alternate outfits and more Canary stories

87 - demon backstory, needs other site

88 - Laios and co inside the demon (still a thot), Laios makes a deal

89 - dropping of Marcille and the gang with Namari and the Canaries, “Laios” makes a break for the surface but IT IS MITHRUN WITH A STEAL CHAIR Mithrun vs Demon round 3, still no noticeable success

90 - what if y’all go hang out with monster Laios instead, The World Is Ending And It’s All My Fault (Marcille and Kabru), Mithrun Is Having None Of It, Marcille and co chase down “Laios”, demon arms go claw machine

91 - vore and reverse vore, Laios vs “Laios”, get cursed bitch

92 - back down the tower then oops gotta escape the dungeon anyway, Marcille and gang find Namari, looking for Laios

93 - Now We Have A Dinner Party, different groups coming to help, found Laios

94 - elves in the aftermath, Mithrun serving up Falin, leftovers and veggie scraps

95 - meal, About That Golden Country, resurrection take 2

96 - epilogue

[teaberrii]

Chapter 27: Final Goodbyes

You've been Cupid for as long as you can remember. You've brought countless soulmates together, yet you've never found love.

When you're assigned to bring two childhood friends back together, it should be simple until you unexpectedly catch feelings for the mysterious and cold Ph.D. student, Dan Heng, the man with a soulmate… the man with answers to your past.

Dan Heng/You

Notes:

Cross-posted on Ao3

Female reader

Chapter index at the end of chapter one

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to leave them alone?”

Pom pops open a beer just as Gepard sits on the couch with his own can on the opposite side. While you and Young are upstairs, talking things out, Pom joins Gepard for a couple of drinks in Dan Heng’s apartment. Pom has just finished telling Gepard almost everything that’s been going on, including Young’s revelation that there’s a chance to save you… and get rid of the curse.

“Well, don’t keep us in the dark!” Nanook said as if he was the one who was going to die. “Are you saying there’s a way to get rid of the curse and keep her alive?”

“You aren’t human,” Young said to you, “which means you can still wield magic. If you’re human, any magic associated with you wouldn’t exist because you wouldn’t have the power to wield it.”

Lan looked at Young. “But, are you sure that will work?”

“Has that ever happened before?” Pom asked. “A God… changing to a human?”

Sampo curiously looked at you. “You’re awfully quiet, dearie.” He grinned. “Or… has it finally hit you?” You slowly looked up without moving your head. “The day you officially became who you are today.”

Pom puts his can of beer on the table after taking a long chug. “If what Young says is true, she can’t live as a god anymore. It’s either she becomes human or… she dies.”

“That doesn’t seem like a hard choice to make,” Gepard says quietly. “Or, maybe it’s just me. I can’t see why anyone would choose to die when they have other options.”

Pom leans back. “I guess. But, you’ve always been human. Gods… or magical beings, we’re, well, magic. It’d be like taking away one of our means of survival.”

Gepard puts his beer on the table. “Young is in Dan Heng’s body… He’s not going to stay, is he?”

“He and Dan Heng can’t coexist in the same period since, well, they’re kinda the same person. It’ll get increasingly painful as time goes on, even worse if Dan Heng fights back.”

“Dan Heng can fight back?”

Pom nods. “It’s his body to begin with. The fact that Young doesn’t look like he’s suffering or anything… My guess is that Dan Heng is letting him take control of his body. For now, at least.” Pom crunches the empty can and tosses it into the recycle. “Which is why I think it’s a good idea to have them talk it out.”

“...Hey. Were you with her when she became a god?" Gepard asks. "What happened to you?"

When Pom found you, you were still holding the knife that took Jing Yuan’s life. His lifeless body was hunched over, his forehead touching your shoulder.

Pom stepped closer and quietly said your name.“...He’s gone.” Pom gently touched your shoulder, and he felt you shaking. “It’s over.”

“No…”

Suddenly, you grabbed Jing Yuan by the shoulders and forced him to look at you. Pom wasn’t sure what was going on when you started screaming at him to tell you what he meant by him and Young protecting you. Eventually, Pom put his arms underneath your arms and forced you away from Jing Yuan’s dead body.

Then, Pom spun you around. “We need to leave. Now.”

It took you a brief moment, but you stashed away all of your burning, unanswered questions, and left with Pom.

Death was all around you. You smelt it in the air, heard the feasting of flesh, and saw the lifeless, bloody bodies on the ground.

You were crossing through an open area, the same place where Young’s execution took place. That was when you saw it.

The red tape around its handle shone in the night, and the gold around the floating sphere looked as if it was sparkling, deliberately trying to get your attention in the chaos. You recognized it immediately. It was Young’s favourite weapon: The Cloud-Piercer. But what was it doing stuck in the ground? Where did it come from? You walked over, and you saw that it was pierced in a small puddle of dry blood. The very place where Young was executed.

“...How odd.” When Pom tried reaching out, he was instantly shocked. A short scream, and he quickly pulled back his hand. “What was that?”

You reached over and successfully grabbed it by the shaft. As you pulled it out of the ground, the gold around the sphere slowly began to fade. “This belonged to Young,” you said quietly.

“Young? Don’t tell me this was here the whole time.”

You knew it wasn't. You had forced yourself to walk by this courtyard a hundred times during your time back at the palace, and you had never seen the Cloud-Piercer until today. When you heard the monstrous snarls getting closer, you and Pom fled the scene with the spear in your hand.

“Eventually, we had to split up,” Pom says.

Gepard is silent for a moment until he frowns. “I’m still surprised at why you stuck by her side this entire time. This was her revenge, wasn’t it?”

“Truth be told, I didn’t think the curse would be from the Grimoire,” Pom says quietly. “It wasn’t until after I found out, and, well… I didn’t want to go against her. I didn’t need to make an enemy out of her.” A sigh. “But even after it was all over, I couldn’t find it in me to just go separate ways.”

“Even after she tricked you?”

“...I would’ve stopped her if I knew had to die for this curse to stop. She tricked me because she knew. It might be twisted to say this, but she never put me in deliberate danger. She was the first human I really befriended. And, well… I’ll support whatever choice she makes, but I really hope she chooses to stay.”

◆◆◆

You heard a building collapse behind you.

Yet, you kept walking.

An innocent man ran toward you. He stopped and collapsed just as an arrow pierced his heart.

Yet, you kept walking.

You could smell the rotting, burning flesh around you.

Yet, you kept walking.

Suddenly, you felt something stop you; it was the first time you looked down. A young girl was bleeding from the head, her eyes wide and her lips dry.

“...Please,” she whimpered. “...Please help me.”

You lifted your foot, shrugging her hand off your blood-stained boot. Then, you raised the spear in your hand. And, as soon as you stared into her eyes, you aimed the spear directly toward her heart.

As you took out the Cloud-Piercer from the dead girl’s body, you saw her eyes had clouded over. She was infected, and you’d spared her from turning into a monster. You and Pom had to split up, but you had a good idea of where he might be.

By the time you reached the sandy outskirts of the palace, you heard footsteps behind you. With the Cloud-Piercer raised, you swiftly spun around and saw a tall man with teal-coloured eyes.

“Hello, dearie,” he said with a smile. “We finally meet.”

You’ve been quiet ever since leaving the hospital. Young puts a hot cup of tea in front of you and sits on the opposite side.

“...Drink something,” he says softly.

“You said you wanted me to go with you,” you say quietly. “But, you told us of a choice for me to stay human.”

“It’s like you said,” Young says with a kind look in his eyes. “I made a mistake centuries ago, and now… I want to make it up to you. If you come with me, we will finally be together. If you choose to stay human, you’ll be here...” A small pause. “...With Dan Heng.”

You suck in a small breath. “But like Lan said… Has that ever happened before? How does that work?”

Young puts his tea on the table. “As a god, you walk with those who have perished to the other side. That strips away your powers. Then, you must make your way back to the living. But…”

“But?”

“It’s a painful process.”

“...And how do you know this?”

Young puts his hand on yours. “It was something I was researching. To tie my soul to the locket, I had to learn everything there was about the afterlife. This was something I learned about.”

“Well, it’s better than what I was imagining… At least I don’t have to beg anybody,” you say after a short silence. Then, you hold his hand. “You said I was supposed to forget about you when you died. Yet, you still tied your soul to this locket. Why? What if… What if I did move on? Were you going to witness that?”

“...I wanted to stay by your side… protecting you.” Young’s eyes land on the pendant still around your neck. “As long as you wore the locket, I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

“I know you said you can’t stay, but if I choose to live… your soul won’t be tied to this locket anymore?”

“The magic in that locket was made for you. If you choose to live, all of the magic associated with you will be gone. The good and the bad.”

You look down and sigh. “It’s… a little late to ask this now, but what would’ve happened if I died back then?”

“When it was your time, I wanted to be the one to walk with you to the other side. You wouldn’t remember me, but it would be a new beginning.”

“But that beginning never came, did it?”

You and Young don’t have to look to know that it’s Sampo. Frowning, you say, “This is a private conversation. You aren’t invited.”

Sampo, leaning against the counter, says, “You can always pretend I’m not here. Continue on with your post-love trauma.”

Young suddenly appears in front of the mercenary. “Why are you here?”

“I’m waiting for my answer.” Sampo looks at you and smiles. “It’s rare that the gods took pity on a human like you when you tried. You really were someone special, Cupid."

“Pom said you mentioned it before,” you say, glaring at Sampo. “No one knows what you’re talking about.”

“You and Pom were put on trial for your crimes. You fell prey to the Grimoire and used it without permission. This got their attention.”

“Who?”

“The Stellaron Hunters, of course.”

“...Who are you?” you asked cautiously.

“I’m here on a job, but you can call me Sampo.” He smiled. “That’s what I like the pretty girls to call me.” The tip of the Cloud-Piercer was at his throat. Your hard gaze was fixed on him, but he still maintained his calm, leisurely composure. “Jokes aside… I’m here because you’ve been summoned.”

Your brows furrowed just as Sampo snapped his fingers. The sand around you began to swirl upwards until you couldn’t keep your eyes open. It became so violent that it began cutting into your skin, snapping off the locket around your neck. The scorching heat melted away, and the sand beneath your feet hardened. You no longer smelled blood, and a single hit of a gavel replaced the snarls and groans of the undead.

When you slowly opened your eyes, you were in a cathedral, standing on a round podium with gold bars caging you in. A stone wall encircled you, and sitting on top were five people on large, gold thrones. At first, the top half of their faces were hidden in shadow until the ceiling above crumbled just enough to allow a faint glimmer of light to shine on them.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, making you turn around once more. But this time, you saw Pom… surrounded by the same gold bars as you.

You opened your mouth, but it wasn’t your voice you heard.

“Welcome, dearie.” You spun around and saw Sampo with a hand in his pocket. “To the Hunter's Court of Law.”

“...Wow. It’s hard to believe they’re the ones who started this whole thing. They look harmless!” You turned and saw a teenager with her elbow on an armrest of the throne.

“Quiet, Silver.” You turned again and saw a man—at least you thought it was a man—adorned in metal plating from head to toe. "Did you forget she's the one who used the Grimoire?"

"A classic example of how appearances can be deceiving."

Then, your eyes landed on a man with fair skin and red eyes. His cold stare was one of slight intrigue but also disgust.

A woman whose hair was tied in a loose ponytail stood. “Shall the trial begin?”

“You destroyed countless lives and tore apart happy families,” Sampo continues. “The Stellaron Hunters ruled for you to take responsibility.” You close your eyes and hear the single thunder of the gravel. “You were sentenced to rule as the God of Love and bring together the families you destroyed across all three kingdoms until you met the reincarnation.”

“...Yet, I was supposed to bring him and Stelle together."

Sampo glances at Young. “If you hadn’t existed, he and Stelle would’ve gotten their happily ever after.” Sampo sighs. “But, I guess they underestimated him.”

“Underestimate? What are you—”

“Dan Heng wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you,” Young says.

“But the man did, anyway.” Sampo rolls his eyes. “He screwed up the order of things and now we’re here.”

“...And our memories?” you ask. “Why couldn’t Pom and I remember anything?”

Sampo smiles. “That was also part of your ruling. By starting on a clean slate and bringing the love you destroyed back together… maybe that would erase the darkness in your heart.”

“...Didn’t think they would be so kind,” you mutter.

Sampo clicks his tongue. “So, what’s it going to be, Cupid?”

You shoot him a look. “You said I only have two options. To live or to die. What about choosing to become human?”

“Well"—Sampo smiles at Young—"he didn’t lie to you. It’s an option, but a painful one. Many people gave up and just turned their butts around and stayed in the afterlife where they belonged.” Sampo sits next to you but you instantly move away. “Young has to go back. So, you can happily go back with him and let fate play out what it’s supposed to be. Or, you can make Dan Heng wait for you on a promise that you might not be able to keep. It’s your choice, dearie.”

◆◆◆

That night, Young is asleep on Dan Heng’s bed when he suddenly hears a faint voice.

“...Get up.”

Young opens his eyes, but he doesn’t see the familiar white ceiling of Dan Heng’s room. Instead, he’s staring at a bright hole in the sky surrounded by dark clouds. Young gets to his feet and notices he’s standing on a large, round flat rock with broken pillars all around. He’s also in his old form. Upon hearing footsteps approaching him, Young turns around, and his eyes widen when he sees Dan Heng.

“What are you—”

“...I’m done just sitting around,” Dan Heng interrupts. “I heard everything. I know… about everything.”

Young narrows his eyes. “Are you going to try to convince me to get her to stay? Her best option is to leave this world.”

“And go with you?” Dan Heng scoffs.

“I might’ve made a mistake,” Young admits, “but her revenge was not in vain. She destroyed the order of things. There were no laws… only chaos and destruction. The world became a blank canvas, and through that, everyone could start over. People learned to share information and cooperate to prevent the same thing from happening again. And since then, there hasn’t been another war, unlike in the past.” Young walks toward Dan Heng until he’s in front of him. “She deserves to rest after all she’s done and been through.”

Dan Heng’s gaze hardens. “She deserves a life of her own, to pursue what she wants.”

“...And are you saying you can make her happy? After running away from what happened to your mother?"

"I'm sorry," Dan Heng says flatly. "Do you mean our mother?" A small sigh, and he says your name. "You really don't understand her."

Young scoffs. “I grew up with her. You’ve known her for less than a year, and you’re saying I don’t understand the woman I love?”

“If you understood her, you wouldn’t have done what you did. You had your chance and failed because you thought her happiness was with you. But it wasn’t.” Young’s eyes darken. “You took away her choices. The war… the curse… that was her decision. Was it wise? Was it the best choice? It’s hard to say, but you left her with no choice.”

Young is silent for a moment. Then, he says, “...I can’t believe I’m arguing with myself."

“We’re different,” Dan Heng says flatly. “Besides, you wanted me to help her move on.” A short pause. “I think she already has.”

Upstairs, you’ve just closed the fridge and turned around when you nearly dropped the small carton of milk you’re holding. Pom stands behind you, his eyes half-open.

“Geezus,” you say. “How long have you been standing there?”

Pom rubs his eyes and yawns. “Just now… I couldn’t sleep.” You turn on the light just as he points to the carton. “Can we share?”

And that’s how you and Pom end up sitting on the couch with two glasses of milk.

“...Have you decided?” Pom asks quietly. You glance at him. “Are you really just going to leave?”

“What makes you think that?”

Pom looks down. “I would imagine Young would be trying to convince you to go with him.”

“Hm… Why does it sound like you don’t want me to leave?” you ask teasingly.

“I remember the day we were tried in front of the Stellaron Hunters. You were sentenced to becoming the God of Love while I was cursed. I couldn’t change my form out of my own free will. I wasn’t human back then. I was a magical being. And, if you go back to being human, you won’t be able to use… or see magic.”

You lean forward and put a hand on top of his. “Pom… What are you getting at?”

Pom gives you a sad smile. “No matter what you choose, we won’t be able to see each other again.”

“N-No. That’s ridiculous!”

“Pom’s right.”

You look past Pom and see Lan.

“Pom was never a god,” Lan says. “But, it’s not like he’s going to disappear. Just, you won’t be able to see him anymore.”

“Well? What are we going to do about the shapeshifter?” Silver asked.

“...Losing his memories and his ability to freely change his form… That’s enough punishment for him.”

Silver raised a brow. “Seriously? That’s it? It’s not like you to be so understanding, Blade. What happens after he gets his memories back? Nothing? How lame.”

“You can see they care for each other.” Everyone turned to the woman who spoke. “Did you not hear her asking for us to spare him?” Silver put her hands on the stone ledge and peeked down at you and Pom. “When their memories return, she must make a decision. That will be their ultimate punishment.”

Silver sighed. “The day they separate, huh?”

When you and Pom look at each other, he takes your hand. “Do you know why I stayed with you until the end?” Then, a little smile. “I’ve never met someone as interesting as you. You fascinated me in a lot of ways.”

You look away with a sad, little smile. “Are you sure it wasn’t because you were scared I’d kill you?”

“Weeelll, there's that too. But, I mean… I would have nowhere to go.” You slowly look back at Pom. “Don’t know when it started or how it happened, but you were like my second home.”

“Gosh, I guess that old shack in the woods is still more important than me.”

Pom smiles wistfully, but you can’t return it. Instead, you look down. You’ve never imagined your life without Pom. The two of you go together like bread and butter. As if knowing what you’re thinking, Pom shimmies closer to you.

“Good things can’t last forever.”

You glance at him and chuckle. “You’re right, Pom. You’re too good for this world.”

Pom looks at Lan. “You can count on Uncle Lan to take good care of me.”

“Uncle Lan?” The god raises a brow.

“Why is Uncle Lan here, anyway?” you ask. “Or… Were you eavesdropping?”

Lan rolls his eyes. “On the contrary.” He looks at you with a grim expression. “I just came from Luocha’s place. You really don’t have much time left.”

◆◆◆

You haven’t got a wink of sleep as your mind is restless from everything that’s happening. Living a life with Young was what you always wanted, so shouldn’t you be jumping at the opportunity to go with him? Sure, you might not be alive, but your souls will finally be together in peace. You flip to the other side. So, why are you so unsure?

When you close your eyes, you see Dan Heng, and your memories with him start playing like a movie inside your mind. His drunken hug when he took you out for drinks. The festival. The aquarium date. His warmth and comfort. Before you know it, you’re smiling and your consciousness starts to drift until you hear your phone buzz. You reach for it on the nightstand, and upon seeing the name on the screen, you quickly sit up.

“...It’s me.”

It takes you a moment, but then you say, “...Dan Heng?”

“Can we talk?”

It doesn’t take you long to meet Dan Heng outside of the apartment in a small park. As soon as you see him, you walk up to him just as he turns around and gives you that little smile you love so much.

“...How are you here?” you ask. “What about Young?”

“We talked.”

Your eyes widen slightly. “You… You talked to him?”

“It was an interesting experience, to say the least.” Then, he looks you in the eyes. “I know everything that happened, and… I wanted a chance to talk to you.” Dan Heng puts a hand on your cheek. “I want you to come back.” You put your hand on top of his. “...If you tell me you’re going to come back, I’ll wait for you.” A small pause. “But, whatever decision you make, I want it to be yours. Not mine. Not Young’s.”

In a fraction of a second, your lips find his. Dan Heng’s hand burrows into your hair. Your hand finds his chest as the hot and demanding heat pulls you two closer together. Then, when it ends, and you look into his eyes, you’re left wanting more. You don’t want to let him go. You can’t let him go. And that’s when you’re absolutely sure.

“...I’ll come back.” He puts his forehead to yours. Then, with tears in your eyes, you say, “...I promise I’ll come back.”

Little do you know, Young is standing a little ways away from you and Dan Heng.

“You don’t look angry.”

Young doesn’t turn but glances at Pom who’s suddenly beside him. “Should I be?”

“She chose Dan Heng, didn’t she?” Pom nudges Young. “Or, are you convincing yourself that it’s just you in the present?”

Young closes his eyes for a moment. “As long as she gets the happiness she deserves.” Then, he turns to Pom. “And so do you, Pom.”

Pom puts his hands around his head. “Honestly… It’s hard to imagine my life without her.” Then, he slightly smiles. “But, hey, I survived without you, didn’t I?”

“We’ll meet again.”

Pom grins. “Just try to give me a heads-up next time, ‘kay? No more appearing in other people's bodies. You'll scare me to death."

Young scoffs with a little smile. “Right. I’ll try.”

“...Were you two just going to keep standing there?” Pom and Young turn and see you and Dan Heng.

“Oh, well, we couldn’t interrupt your little moment, could we?” Pom says.

Young walks up to you. “...You’ve decided.”

You look him in the eyes and give a firm nod. “...I’ve decided.”

Young leans in and gives your head a quick kiss. “Then, I have nothing else to say.”

“Well, I do.” You frown when you hear the voice. When you turn around, you see Sampo casually tossing a coin in the air. “It’s time to say your final goodbyes.”

Chapter 28

End notes:

If everything goes according to plan, the next chapter will be the last.

A reader asked me if the spear Cupid used at the beginning of the chapter was The Cloud-Piercer, and I was mindblown by the idea lolol so I got permission to use it :3

Tag list: @suoshiii @lordbugs @lxry-chxn @seirenspinel @nqctre @lunavixia @akwardbiscuit @tanspostsblog @theprinceofkhaos @sunsethw4 @hiqhkey @n8mareee @vintagepoetryluna

[badbatchposts]

Quiet Corners of the Galaxy, Ch. 27

Relevant tags/content warnings: Crosshair/Original Female Character, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Periodic Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, 18+/Explicit

Read the full fic so far on AO3

Read previous chapters on Tumblr: Ch. 1 l Ch. 2 l Ch. 3 l Ch. 4 l Ch. 5 l Ch. 6 l Ch. 7 l Ch. 8 l Ch. 9 l Ch. 10 l Ch. 11 l Ch. 12 l Ch. 13 l Ch. 14 l Ch. 15 l Ch. 16 l Ch. 17 l Ch. 18 l Ch. 19 l Ch. 20 l Ch. 21 l Ch. 22 l Ch. 23 l Ch. 24 l Ch. 25 l Ch. 26

Chapter 27 summary: Crosshair experiences some uncertainty about his relationship with Dara.

Extra content warnings for this chapter: More smut! PIV sex, fingering, dirty talk, discussion of dom/sub dynamics, light spanking, Crosshair's gun fetish, dom drop

Crosshair was staring. He knew he was staring, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Not a word—Dara hadn’t said a word to him in two rotations, had barely even shot a glance his way—and he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

For two whole rotations he’d been watching her as she strode across the base, conferring with clones and reaching out to contacts, as efficient and competent as always. While Tech conducted tests on the samples they’d acquired on Xagalus, Dara and a few of the others were hunting down leads on the Empire’s purpose for the drug. As she worked, she was again measured and unemotional, betraying no ongoing signs of the grief and pain that had threatened to overwhelm her. Crosshair didn’t flatter himself to think that he had somehow managed to fix things, but whatever she was feeling, she was now back in control.

He, on the other hand, was being driven slowly insane.

Last time, Dara had kissed him. Sure, he had goaded her into it, but she had turned things physical, she had wanted him, they had even spoken without arguing afterwards. And she was honest with him—no protective walls made of falsely flirtatious charm or even righteous anger, just a little bit of humor, some quiet reflection, and that undercurrent of sadness that, he now knew, must follow her wherever she goes. It had been good, the sex was incredible, and it had helped her.

So why wouldn’t she look at him?

It was because of the end of that conversation afterward, maybe, when he’d asked about her scars. He had worried, even then, that he was delving into too-personal territory, and since then he’d spent not a small amount of time lying awake at night, replaying her hesitation, the tension in her shoulders when he’d asked about the war. It was obvious, now, that she hadn’t wanted to tell him.

It was just—he’d never seen her so open before. Relaxed, and loose, and satisfied, willing to indulge him. And then he had ruined it, and now she had to know that he was watching her, but she wouldn’t even glance his way.

At the moment, she was conversing seriously with Gregor. Her hands must have healed well enough—she’d removed the bandages just this morning, her palms once again smooth and unmarred. Her reading glasses were perched atop her head, and she pulled them on for a moment to consult the datapad she was holding before returning them to their resting place, nestled among the silver strands of her hair. Crosshair could practically still feel the way her soft locks had twisted around his fingers. He wanted to feel it again.

Echo brushed against his shoulder gently with his own. “You alright, vod?”

Crosshair scowled, agitating his toothpick back and forth in his mouth. “Just peachy.”

“Sure.” His brother rolled his eyes. “You, uh… Wanna talk about whatever’s going on between you two?” he asked, gesturing toward Dara with his scomp link.

Yeah, that wasn’t happening. The sniper spun on his heel and strode off. “Going for target practice,” he spat over his shoulder.

Crosshair made his way across base toward an out-of-the-way rooftop that overlooked the long-distance range he and Omega had set up, beginning to feel more relaxed the further he got from the bustling activity. This was all he needed: a quiet place to focus, to calm his mind. To forget about her.

Obviously, Dara didn’t want him. She’d pushed him away after the first time, ignored him after the second, and—as seriously as he’d been considering picking another fight just to see if it would end with him inside of her again—it was time for him to take the hint. So he settled down into the familiar position and certain rhythm of his rifle, and concentrated on what he was best at.

He had been at it for nearly an hour when he heard the crunch of gravel behind him as someone climbed their way onto the roof. Something lurched strangely in his chest, and he hit another target rather than turning to look. He knew who it was, had memorized the pattern of her footfalls without even realizing it.

“Been searching for me, burk’yc?” Crosshair murmured. He squeezed off another shot.

Dara stood next to him, arms crossed, and peered in the direction he was shooting. It was fruitless—she wouldn’t be able to see the targets he was hitting unaided at this distance.

“You’re easy to find,” she retorted. “Just look up and follow the sounds of violence.”

Crosshair snorted. “Hardly any violence today. Just stationary objects.” He sat up and gestured towards his Firepuncher, smirking. He couldn’t help preening a little at the chance to show her the evidence of his skill. “Go ahead and look.”

Dara gave him an unimpressed stare, but still lowered herself to the ground. She laid on her stomach in front of the rifle and sighted through the scope, finding the far-off targets that he had been hammering unflinching holes into with pinpoint accuracy.

“Hmm.” She glanced up at him for a moment before looking back through the scope. “I guess I’ll give you credit for not taking it out on any of those flying fish.”

Crosshair scoffed, but found himself too distracted by the sight of her holding his rifle to come up with a rejoinder. He hungrily eyed the way her fingers curled around the grip and forestock and traced his gaze along her prone form.

Her proper form, he noted with some surprise. Her correct grip.

“Think you can hit something with that?” He posed the question half out of curiosity, half out of a lewd self-interest. He was already memorizing this image for later use—her actually shooting his rifle would be a nice bonus.

Dara looked back up and rolled her eyes at him. “Let me guess—you want to wrap your arms around me and show me how to hold it properly?” she mocked, snorting. “Wouldn’t be the first time a man tried that one on me.”

The sniper crossed his arms and glared. Honestly, he had been considering that, and he was a little annoyed that there was nothing for him to correct.

“Well, shoot it, then,” he huffed impatiently. The Firepuncher was too large for her, and the recoil would hit her hard, but that wasn’t his problem if she wanted to be a brat about it.

Dara shook her head in exasperation, but lined herself up again, angling the rifle toward one of the closer targets. It wasn’t far at all—he had set it up for Omega’s bow practice, since he himself wouldn’t even bother with something at that range—but it was respectable for a non-sniper, especially one without enhanced vision.

She exhaled, and squeezed the trigger. It hit a few centimeters to the left of center.

“That hurt,” she muttered, rubbing her shoulder and rolling it out. “Too much power for me. I’m used to my hunting rifle.” He watched as she adjusted and tried again, then again, getting closer each time.

“You didn’t learn that hunting,” Crosshair countered. She was too familiar with the scope, her fingers making adjustments with the familiarity of practice.

Dara took another shot, finally hitting center. “Nope.”

He huffed when she didn’t elaborate. “Boyfriend teach you?” he asked snidely, certain it would piss her off.

Her shoulders stiffened for a moment before she forced them to relax. “My friend used one during the war.” She settled into a rhythm, hitting a bullseye several more times before moving onto the next furthest target. “She taught me some, but I don’t have the accuracy at distance to be a sniper. Couldn’t forage all my food when I lived off-the-grid, so that’s still where I got the most practice.”

“Fuck,” Crosshair muttered as she shot again, doing better now that she was more familiar with the weapon. It was nothing particularly impressive, he reminded himself—but still, he could practically feel himself salivating. There was something about the methodical way she undertook the task—getting a feel for the rifle, making small but steady improvements until she performed consistently, then moving onto the next challenge—that appealed to him.

She grinned and looked up at him over her shoulder. “What?” she teased. “You like when I look a little dangerous?”

Kriff, she was doing this on purpose, wasn’t she? Suddenly, it didn’t matter that she hadn’t been speaking to him. She knew what she was doing right now. She had come looking for him.

She still wanted him.

Crosshair lowered himself to his knees, straddling either side of Dara’s legs as she lay prone beneath him, and ran his hands along her hips and waist. He took his time, savoring her curves. She shivered, and flexed her grip against the rifle—his rifle.

“I—I told you this wouldn’t work on me. Can’t seduce me this way.” Her voice was already breathy.

Crosshair slipped his hands beneath her to unbutton her trousers, taking time to savor the feel of the soft skin of her belly against his calloused fingertips. “Obviously you’re the one seducing me, mesh’la.” He slid her pants and underwear down so they rested just beneath the knee, then angled her hips up. She obliged, so willingly, shifting so that she was positioned on her hands and knees, clicking the rifle’s safety on and setting it back down as she did so.

“I’m not the one who started this,” Dara shot back.

He sighed contentedly at this new angle, the way her cunt was spread out beneath him like a ripe fruit to devour. Trying to remain patient, to drag this out as long as possible, he pulled his gloves off and slid his palms along the soft curve of her ass, pushing her shirt up to kiss a trail up her spine. She hadn’t worn the poncho today, and he wondered whether she was thinking of this, thinking of him, of giving him easier access, when she’d decided not to.

“Aren’t you?” Crosshair replied. “You came looking for me for a reason.”

Dara murmured in acknowledgment as he let his hands and tongue roam, dedicating himself to making her shiver. He kneaded at her hips, stroked along her inner thighs, slipped beneath her breastband to pinch a nipple.

 One hand ghosted so close to her wet heat that he swore he could feel it radiating from her. “So what was the reason?” he whispered against her skin.

She smirked over her shoulder at him. “Wanted to fuck.”

Crosshair grinned wickedly and sank his teeth into the meat of her hip just as he pressed one long finger inside of her. Her moan synced with the flexing of her walls in response as he opened her up and felt her growing wetter by the second.

“That’s what I thought,” he muttered, slipping another digit in. He straightened so that he was kneeling upright behind her, resting his left hand against the scar on her lower back and watching as his fingers disappeared over and over into her tight hole. Dara threw her head back, eyes screwed tight in ecstasy, and thrust her hips back to meet him, fucking herself on his hand, and Crosshair honestly couldn’t manage to conjure up a hotter image at the moment if he had tried.

She had come back for more. She wanted him.

Last time he had given her what she needed immediately, eager to distract her from her grief. Now, he wanted to tease her, to take his time patiently pulling her apart. To watch as she slowly came undone for him, at his mercy. 

Even so, he doubted he could get her to beg for him—not yet, at least. She was too resistant to letting him lead, would surely stubbornly suppress anything that might even hint that he was in charge. Still, though, with her here, on all fours in front of him, admitting openly that this is what she desired—well, for now he would take what he could get.

His cock was uncomfortably hard against his codpiece, and Crosshair had to dip into his reserves of patience to stay focused. He shifted his fingers until he was hitting home inside of Dara, wrenching a low cry from her with every thrust. His thumb found her clit and rubbed slow, firm circles, increasing in speed as her moans became more wanton and he felt the fluttering of her cunt around him.

It was a struggle to pull away before she could reach the apex of her pleasure, especially as she practically chased his fingers with her hips—but he was nothing if not disciplined.

“You absolute kriffing bastard!” Dara groaned, fingers clawing at the duracrete. His eyes were glued to the sight of her pussy, dripping and clenching around nothing, but when he glanced up and met her eyes the strength of her glare could have dropped one of the flying fish right out of the sky.

Crosshair smirked. “Hit the next target, and I’ll let you finish.” He tasted his fingers, coated with her slick, not breaking eye contact even as he felt the urge to close his eyes to fully savor the heady, sweet flavor.

Dara’s eyes flashed, jaw working, and he imagined her mind was running through her options—yelling, fighting, finishing herself off—but evidently she decided that it would be quickest to simply do as he asked, and she gripped his rifle again, firing off an impatient blast that missed her objective entirely.

“You can do better than that, burk’yc,” he goaded over her huff of frustration. As Dara calmed herself, making more effort to line her shot up properly this time, he let his codpiece clatter to the ground, palming himself over his blacks. Her second attempt went wide as well, hitting the target but far off-center, and he tutted. When Dara bared her teeth at him over her shoulder once again at the sound, he spanked one round, enticing buttock. “Focus,” he chided.

Dara spewed out a series of words in a language he couldn’t identify but was certain consisted of the most vehement curses she was familiar with as she turned back toward the range. Grinning, he dragged two fingers through her pussy, gathering her wetness and making her shiver, and tugged his cock out of his blacks, needing some sort of relief for himself even as he tormented her. Slow strokes coated his length in her slick, taking a little of the edge off even as her hands on his rifle were riling him up further. Finally, Dara breathed deeply, muscles relaxing, and loosed a bolt that hit true.

“Good fucking girl,” Crosshair groaned, plunging his fingers back inside of her even as the hand fisting his cock sped up.

“You miserable… son of a nerf herding… bantha shit-brained…” Dara’s insults died away as her climax approached, dissolving into moans as Crosshair expertly guided her toward the edge. When she reached it, he couldn’t tear his eyes away, greedily drinking in the way the tension in her muscles loosed all at once, her knees nearly buckling and mouth letting out delicious little whimpers from behind bitten lips. Suddenly, he found himself having to stop his strokes entirely, clenching the base of his shaft, the sight bringing him far too close to finishing for comfort.

Crosshair gave himself just long enough to avert a crisis—there was no possible way he was going to cum before he was sheathed inside her again—but not long enough for Dara to fully recover. He bent over, lips to her ear, rutting his hard length up against her ass.

“You knew what you were doing to me, holding my weapon like that. Is this what you wanted? For me to take you right out in the open like this?”

Dara was still unsteady on her hands and knees, voice breathy, but not so far gone to keep from snarking at him. “Not my fault… that you… have a fetish…”

He chuckled darkly. “I’m sure I’m not the only one. You’re a filthy thing, aren’t you? I’d bet there’s no end to what you’d let me do to you.”

Dara looked over her shoulder at him again, rolling her eyes with a lazy contentment and smiling wryly. “Is that a promise?”

All that meant was that Crosshair could see the exact moment her eyes rolled back into her head when he plunged his cock into her. He straightened, gripping her hips tightly as leverage to pull her back hard onto his length, driving into her at a pace that punched the air out of her lungs in desperate little cries. The plastoid of his thigh guards bit into the flesh of her ass, creating cute dimples that he wanted to bite, to tongue, to suck, to claim as his own. He sent one hand up to grip her by the hair, brushing it aside to get a better glimpse of the pleasure on her face, happy to once again feel the soft, warm strands beneath his calloused fingertips.

Everything about her seemed designed to drive him mad. He wanted more, more, always more, wanted her fully nude below him, to see the sensual curve of her back and her bare tits bouncing with every thrust, to have everything, all of her, to look into her eyes as they went hazy with pleasure—but for now this was all he had. And still, how kriffing good it was, the long minutes he could steal sheathing himself in her heat, reveling in the way just a slight change in angle of his cock had her melting for him.

Then her body suddenly stilled completely, her hips no longer thrusting back to meet him, only rocking gently with his movements, before a shudder passed along her spine and her head was thrown back and he could see she was no longer entirely here, lost in her pleasure, a far-off smile playing along her lips and then her mouth opened wide and she cried out and shuddered even harder beneath him, cumming violently as he kept fucking into her without mercy, muttering filth that he wasn’t even sure she could hear.

“That’s it. Take it. Fuck, you take me so well, squeezing that tight little cunt around my cock. Feels so good when you cum around me. Can barely stand seeing your hot fucking ass like this, bouncing while I take you from behind. Gonna cum in you, gonna fill you up, fuck!” 

Crosshair’s vision blurred as he found he couldn’t hold back any longer, barely able to keep his balance as his orgasm overcame him. The feeling of his hot seed spurting impossibly deep inside Dara filled him with satisfaction to match his pleasure, and he bent over to lazily mouth at her neck, knowing that, at least for today, she remained marked by him. He found he didn’t want to withdraw from her even as he felt himself growing softer, wondering how long he could get away with staying just like this, his cock warm and Dara beneath him just a little longer.

It was Dara who took the initiative, edging forward and collapsing onto the duracrete with a satisfied hum. Crosshair replaced his codpiece before laying down next to her, one arm tucked beneath his head, as she rolled over and tugged her pants back up.

He frowned, noticing scrapes along her knees before the bare skin disappeared beneath clothing.

“I hurt you,” he muttered. His contentment leaked out of him, deflating rapidly like air from a balloon.

Dara shrugged, unaffected, looking up into the darkening sky. “It’s just a few scratches.”

“Yes, but—” Crosshair huffed in frustration. She was right, he didn’t understand why he was feeling this way, a strange sort of misery suddenly hovering over him. “Your hands just healed,” he finished lamely, and that didn’t explain anything.

She chuckled, still not looking at him. “Well, what did you expect? Duracrete’s not a forgiving surface.” He was silent, not sure how to articulate anything, because she was right, he should’ve known, hadn’t cared enough to think about her comfort, too occupied with want, with pushing her, with taking her roughly, and—

A hand squeezing his interrupted the spiral. Dara was looking at him, brow furrowed with concern, and he wasn’t sure what she was seeing on his face. A part of him wanted to storm off, push her away and go somewhere quiet to sort through whatever this mess was, but then she was squeezing his hand again and he fought the urge.

“Hey—” Her voice was soft, soothing. “It’s okay. It was worth it. I liked it.”

Crosshair let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding and nodded, not trusting his voice. Dara let go of his hand and looked back to the sky, giving him a break from scrutiny and a few precious moments to recover before she pressed again.

Her voice was casual, nonjudgmental, when she resumed. “You’ve bruised me before,” she observed, hastily continuing before he could react, “I liked that too. What’s different about this time?”

He popped a toothpick in his mouth, worrying it with his tongue, contemplating for a moment, before muttering, “That was on purpose. This—it was an accident. I didn’t think.” Maybe if he had, he would be equally as pleased with her scraped knees as the other evidence of his roughness, the fading marks from before that still littered her hips and shoulders.

“Ah.” She was looking at him again, too sympathetic and beneath it a little amused, and he didn’t like any of that. “Do you always have to be in control during sex?”

“Don’t psychoanalyze me. I get that enough from Tech,” Crosshair shot back testily. She raised her hands in a gesture of surrender, and he felt a little better, back in the familiar territory of banter. It was okay, he was okay, she liked it and she still wanted him, and he reached toward her to grasp her chin between his thumb and forefinger. Dropping his already gravelly voice even lower, he murmured huskily, “When I hurt you, it will be on purpose, and you’ll be begging me for it.”

Dara shivered and he felt his cock twitch with renewed arousal. He leaned in to steal a kiss, feeling her mold to him and tracing the seam of her lips with his tongue, ready to deepen the contact and spend the rest of the night exploring ways to finally make her beg.

“Crosshair!” He sighed at the familiar, young voice calling to him as he broke away. Dara recovered quickly, smirking in amusement as he hauled himself up and stalked to the edge of the roof. At the bottom of the ladder, Omega was smiling up at him, a ray of sunshine in the fading light of the evening. Behind her, Hunter raised an eyebrow at him knowingly.

“It’s time for late meal!” His sister shouted up.

Sighing again, Crosshair returned to retrieve his rifle. Hesitating a moment, he offered a hand to Dara to help her up, but she waved him away, gaze returning to the slowly appearing stars. Wordlessly, he padded over to the ladder and began his descent, pausing only a moment to take in the languid, satisfied lines of her form before he left her behind.

Tag list: @stardusthuntress @skellymom @megmegalodondon @somewhere-on-kamino @morerandombullshit @zahmaddog @flaming-dumpster

Thanks again to @cloneflo99 for the amazing banner!!!

[spacebarbarianweird]

The Dhampirs of the Sword Coast - Chapter 4

It's been a while but I've finally written the 4th chapter! Upon receiving a quest to find an ancient spellbook, the dhampirs form an unlikely party of adventurers. Also we learn some gruesome details about vampires and dhampirs in the Underdark and meet a mysterious stranger in the woods.

Read on AO3

Link for Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

The List of Chapters

Masterlist

Headcanons

Ulsha (Half-Orc/Paladin) - age 26. Lawful Good.

Alethaine (High Elf/Necromancer) - age 25. Astarion's daughter. Lawful Neutral.

Theris (Tiefling/Bard) - age 27. Chaotic Neutral.

Mierni (Human/Wizard)- age 14, Gale's foster son. Suffers with selective muteness. True neutral.

“So,” Theris the Bard stops and puts away his viola. ‘We are positively lost.”

“You are observant,” Ulsha shrugs.

“Oh, Ulsha, perception checks are my specialty!” Theris places his clawed hand to his undead heart. 

“When you aren’t high.”

Alethaine shivers.

Autumn has gone from “warm and tolerant” to “disgusting and cold” within two weeks. Rain is pouring down on the four dhampirs and Alethaine feels like a wet, sad, lost cat. Besides, Ulsha and Theris— her two-meter-tall half-orc and tiefling companions – constantly quarrel.

As for Mierni, the little wizard raised by Gale Dekarios, he has been surprisingly quiet ever since their little group left Waterdeep behind. 

“Shut up,” Alethaine mutters walking forward. For the last two weeks, the party of dhampirs had been following the Trade Route south to reach Dragonspear Castle where, according to Gale, Bowgentle of Silverymoon’s spell book was hidden. 

But as time goes she wonders if she should have inquired more  about the location of the book and the dangers that lie ahead.

But patience has never been her strong side.

The storm wind starts howling and the trees creek as if about to break.

“We need to set up a camp,” Ulsha says leaving Theris behind. 

“On the open road?” Alethaine cringes. “I don’t know about your folk, Ulsha, but I am not a fan of sleeping in the dirt.”

“We belong to the same kind, last time I checked.”

“But neither of us is waterproof! We need at least somewhere dry!”

Ulsha makes a weird sound similar to a hushed roar and Alethaine takes a step back. Well, you can’t overcome genetics. After all, Alethaine Ancunin is a Moon Elf and Ulsha is a Half  Orc.

And elves are afraid of orcs.

“Mierni! Are you alright? Could you cast something that can protect us from the wind and rain?” Ulsha suddenly speaks very softly like a nanny or a mother. She very well could be both considering the tiny dark-skinned wizard is even shorter than Alethaine.

The boy shakes his head. He opens his mouth as if trying to say something before turning his head away and grasping the magic staff.

“Great! And the wizard is mute again!” Theris hisses.

“It’s not his fault!” 

“Of course it’s not, but it doesn’t change the fact that we are in the middle of nowhere,” Theris bares his fangs.”We have a paladin who gave an oath to never use her very useful dhampiric skills, a sorceress whose spells and skills are a mess and a wizard who is mute! At least you have me, so I can play some tunes at your funeral. Is this spell book even that valuable?”

“It probably is,” Alethaine looks around. 

“Very well Alethaine, what do your elven eyes see?” Theris asks.

Alethaine is too tired to have an argument about “not all elves have great eyesight, not all elves are good archers, and not all elves are delicate, elegant creatures”.

“I see a lot of dirt. One of you was supposed to be smart enough to get a map.”

“This is the wilderness, it won’t be mapped,” Ulsha notices.

Alethaine takes a step forward. Then another. The rutted road makes it difficult to move even for a dhampir and she feels her boots getting disgustingly wet 

She would sell a soul for a warm bed at an inn if only there were one.

The woods are alive, they are alive in a grotesque, decaying sense, with leaves turning into rot, dirt, and mold. But still – alive.

Alethaine feels an eerie presence. She stops and turns her head slightly  to better catch a strange sensation.

“Do you see something?” Theris asks. Ulsha stops him with her strong green hand. “I just wanted to ask!”

Alethaine closes her eyes. Her mind is filled with shadows, marks of decay. 

Here.

She drops her traveling bag on the ground and picks up a shovel. 

“Theris! Would you be a kind tiefling and help a maiden dig a grave?” Alethaine calls to him.

“No. Dig it yourself!” Ulsha nods in agreement and closes Mierni’s eyes.

“Pen-channas!”  Alethaine mutters piercing the ground with the shovel. It’s difficult to dig, the ground feels like Mire.

“Does anyone speak Elvish here?” Theris protests. “I am not comfortable with her speaking Elvish when she can speak Infernal perfectly!” 

“Samit olme ulundova,” Alethaine says out loud. “Caretya lusta ná.”

Digging graves is a pleasant thing. It’s like submerging into water after a long day. 

Finally, the shovel touches a half-rotten corpse. It looks like a halfling, but it could be a very thin dwarf. 

Alethaine hears steps behind her. Ulsha mutters something between a prayer and a curse and Theris is more curious than disgusted. 

“Speak!” Alethaine orders. Green runes appear in the air and a small, unnatural flame ignites on the palm of her pale hand. A pleasant sensation runs through her body – it’s like a caress, fresh water after a fever, a pain after wound debridement. 

The corpse levitates a few feet above the ground, its mouth and eyes glowing with the same unnatural green light as Alethaine’s hand.

“Where are we?” Alethaine asks.

“On the Sword Coast.”

“Fuck, I know this already. How far is Dragonspear castle?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are there inns around?”

“There was one… But it was burnt to the ground.”

The body levitates in the air. Two more questions before it shuts up for good. But Alethaine can’t think of anything useful to ask considering the corpse had the same level of geographical cretinism as the dhampirs.

“Oh, I know! Let’s ask how it died!” Theris gets enthusiastic.

“What for?” Ulsha protests. The corpse turns its head to her. 

“Because it’s always interesting to know how someone died,” the corpse replies.

Ulsha takes a step back.

“Oh no no no, I’ve broken my oath by speaking to it? Did I? Did I break my oath? Lathander forgive me.” Ulsha looks absolutely helpless.

“No, it doesn't count,” the corpse says, and promptly returns to its grave.

“Alethaine, I forbid you from digging any more graves!” Ulsha says after the dhampirs give up and decide to set up camp hoping their tents will protect them from the rain.

“Who are you to forbid me to do anything?” Alethaie glares at the half-orc. It’s a difficult task given the stark height difference.

“I am in charge of our party. I don't want you to attract unnecessary attention”

“Ulsha, our party is made up of a paladin of Lathander, a constantly high tiefling, a mute kid, and an elf. We are attracting attention by default.”

Ulsha moves closer using her size for intimidation.

“Alethaine, no grave digging while I am in charge.” 

“Don't you dare use your intimidation skills on me!” Alethaien suddenly gets angry. 

“You want to question my authority?” The half-orc bellows. 

“No, I am fine with you being the one at fault.” Alethane lies on her bedroll. “But I am going to dig as many graves and talk to as many corpses as I want!”

Ulsha gives up and goes to check on Mierni and Theris. Mierni still refuses to talk and Theris has already drunk half a bottle of fire whiskey he’s found somewhere.

Suddenly, Ulsha drops toher knees, raises her face to the west, and prays

Farewell, Illuminated one until we meet again

We carry the sun in our hearts until then

Give us the strength to carry on

Until the next dawn

The moment she ends the prayer, Alethaine feels how the night starts.

Even though she is not a vampire, she always knows when it’s night and when it’s day. Sun isn't an enemy, but not a friend either. 

Why is Ulsha so adamant in her faith?

“Ulsha.” Alethaine approaches her. “You were raised in the Underdark right?”

The half-orc nods.

Alethaine scoots closer.

"How bad was it there?"

"You really wanna know?"

"I do."

The Half-Orc chuckles.

"It was bad. When the spawns were released from the dungeons, they rushed to the Underdark, murdering, raping, and feeding. It was a bloodthirsty horde worse than then the abyssal demons. Some of them disappeared to return to their homes, to their past lives, mostly dwarves and drows. But I am afraid many returned to the surface to be vampires, the hunters of the innocent. Among those who remained underground, only 1,000 were still sane. The others… They are more like animals than sentient beings. They live in small colonies, like stray cats, and constantly travel looking for prey. As for the sane’ 1,000…"

Ulsha paused, collecting the thoughts.

"Dalyria, one of the ‘leaders’ tried to be their queen or chieftain, whatever. She called them a Coven. But soon, 1,000 divided into 10-15 clans in a never-ending war with each other. It's a feud. A fight for food, resources, and territory. All the clans were more or less equal until … dhampirs started growing older. Dhampirs became the ultimate weapon – we can sense the presence of vampires, we can stalk them in running water, in sunlight, we can starve them…”

Alethaine catches a glance of Theris who has made himself comfortable in his tents and started playing a viola. 

"My clan never pretended they ‘got’ me for any other purpose than to make me their champion, to fight their wars for them. Dalyria was in a rage when she learned about me and she called upon her sons, the twins Eben and Eren, who lived on the surface. They massacred every vampire in my home. It was a bloodshed I had never seen before and I wish to never witness it again. I thought they would kill me, but they showed me the way up to the surface and told me to never come back. The Underdark is no place for dhampirs, it will be our demise should we return there.” Ulsha exhales loudly before turning to Alethaine. “What about you? You don’t look like an orphan or an outcast”

Alethaine sits beside the half-orc.

“I am neither. I was raised by my vampire father and mortal mother.”

“So your father just kept a mortal on a leash?” Ulsha suggests.

“What? No! They aren’t slave and master,” Alethaine protests. 

Childhood memories pass before her eyes. Her father, Astarion, angry because Tiriel left for some dangerous quest without heeding his advice. Her mother, joking about something plain stupid. 

And often – cries. Alethaine knows that her father’s past tortures him and he often can do nothing about it. 

“They are married,” Alethaine finishes. “And they treat each other well.”

Ulsha shrugs.

“It’s not uncommon. After all, all vampires were once mortals. My clan was led by Sebastian. He was a noble from Baldur’s Gate and spent seventeen decades locked in a cell starving and tortured. He met a mortal man in the Underdark and left with him. Sometimes, I am happy for him. Sometimes, I am angry because, once he left, the new leaders started a shitshow. You know, there is a difference between a vampire who comes from a distinguished family and a psycho-pedophile who used to own slaves. Vampirism just makes you more aware of everyone’s flaws.”

“You probably think I am some spoiled girl,” Alethaine chuckles.

“I don’t. Lathander teaches us not to be jealous. I am happy for you and I wish I had the same upbringing.”

Theris suddenly jumps to his feet.

“Finally! I caught that stupid, dumb bitch!”

“Who?”

“Inspiration.”

Ulsha groans. “Spare me”

Alethaine stands up to leave Ulsha’s little tent, the half orc grabs her wrist.

“Be careful, Alethaine. Here on the surface dhampirs are still rare but in the Underdark, we are juggernauts who change the game for vampires. Be careful of whoever asks you for help.”

Alethaine nods and crawls inside her tent. It’s more or less warm and she soon starts slipping into oblivion. 

… Only to be woken up by a ruthless sun and a scared wizard.

“Mierni, what’s the…” Alethaine mutters, quickly stopping herself before saying a “bad word” in front of a fourteen-year-old boy.

Mierni points at the campsite. The fire has been extinguished. Ulsha grabs her ax in a fighting stance while Theris is hiding in the bushes.

“What’s wrong?” Alethaine asks.

Ulsha groans something incomprehensible.

Theris points in front of them.

Now, in the dusk of the morning, Alethaine sees that either she and her cousins are blind idiots or there is some dark magic at play. 

Dragonspear Castle, or at least what is left of it, towers above the forest in all its ancient and macabre beauty.

“So we could have spent the night under a roof?” Alethaine mutters and immediately gets kicked in her ribs by the little wizard. “Oh… I see.”

At least a dozen ogres are wandering around the castle at a very close proximity to the dhampir camp.

“Anyone implying they are my kin,” Ulsha warns, “Will lose their limbs.”

Mierni opens his mouth, but the words are stuck in his throat as if he was under the Silence spell. Definitely embarrassed by this, he tries to hide behind Alethaine.

"Here is the plan, short and simple,” Theris says. “We go to the chief ogre, double dog dares him to help us, he goes to the closest town, folks there come to kill him, poor fella, the ogres start a fight for the throne, we chose the one we like, support his claims, he becomes the new chief and we gaslight him to let us in the castle. Voila, problem solved!"

"Theris, are you ever sober?" Alethaine asks

Theris looks at her with his red hell touched eyes and Alethaine suspects that the answer is “no”.

The Black Death, an albino rat, squeaks.

“Alright, simple plan,” Alethaine says. “Theris and I sneak there to find the spellbook and then we leave before they notice us.”

“You are an elf, they will catch your scent the moment you are close,” Ulsha groans.

“Then only Theris?” Alethaine suggests. “No, he won't find the book, he can’t identify magic.”

“I’d love to disagree but I won’t. Maybe Ulsha can … talk to them?”

Ulsha collapses the two-handed ax on the ground. “What did I tell you, Theris?”

“But you do speak Black Speech!” Theris hides behind Alethaine and the elf realizes she doesn’t really enjoy being on the first line between the half-orc paladin and her enemies.

“So what? No, if we are to complete the quest and bring that book to the distinguished wizard,” the last part of the sentence doesn’t sound mocking at all. “We need to get inside together.”

“Or we can pretend we didn’t find it,” Alethaine suggests. “What, it’s just a spellbook?”

Theris surges forward.

“It’s an expensive book! I am not losing a fortune because you are all so stupid.”

“Theris!” Ulsha bellows but it’s already too late.

An ogre grabs the tiefling’s collar and lifts him up like a vermin.

“Smells dead,” the ogre comments. 

“At least I don't reek of piss and rot.” Theris says, offended.

“You,” the ogre says. “You are also dead.”

“Aka’magosh,” Ulsha puts her hand to her chest, hiding the symbol of Lathander. “What is your tribe doing here?”

“Power. Abyss. They have called. We have come,” the ogre says somewhat proudly. “Dirma. Abyss. The red eye in the skies.”

Alethaine puts a hand on Mierni’s shoulder. The little wizard is so scared thatshe is afraid he will run away (and will definitely be eaten by ogres).

Well, there are always stories that mimic your every step, Alethaine thinks.

Forty-five years ago the cult of Absolute took hold on the southern areas of the Sword Coast, infecting ogres, goblins, and drows, literally making no exception, with parasites who would turn them all into mind flayers. All pawns in the hands of the Bhalists and the rogue Illithid who’d decided it was his chance to seize control.

An attack on Baldur’s Gate. Random passengers. 

A vampire who’d decided the painful death from the hands of mind flayers was definitely better than his life as a spawn.

A lonely traveler from the East who was looking for a job.

In two months, the cult was destroyed. All glory was received by Duke Ravengard and the archmage of Waterdeep. The half-elven warrior and the vampire disappeared in the vast wastelands hoping to forget the horrors they both had endured.

Scholars say the cosmogonic myths are the most important of all because they explain how things came to be. Other scholars note that, since family and home are the whole universe for children, they need to know their own myth of creation.

Alethaine knows everything about the cult of Absolute starting from “and that’s when we awoke in the pods” to “and then we fall into the Chiontar river after killing the brain.”

Can the Absolute come back? Just like in those fucking neverending stories when problems just pass from one generation to another!

“You,” The ogre points at Alethaine. “Abyss.”

“Yes,” Alethaine exclaims. “I accept the Abyss and whatever lives there as my only lord!”

Ogre cringes but it seems like Alethaine’s words persuaded him because he finally releases Theris, causing him to fall on the dirty ground.

“The abyss. Will eat. The land. Be only wasteland. Nothing lives. The great old one shall come back.”

“Can we,” Alethaine suggests. “See the castle? I mean we’ve made a long path to pay respects to… the great old one?”

The ogre contemplates. Alethaine thinks she can physically feel how thought crawls in the ogre’s mind.

“Yes. You can. But not her. She prays to the sun.”

Ulsha nods, hardly hiding her joy when hearing that she won’t have to come closer.

“No!” Theris protests. “She is coming with us. I am not going anywhere close to them without a proper warrior in our ranks! She is… she is about to betray her false god and she wishes to pay her respect to the Abyss!”

The ogre takes a sniff.

“I SEE. I WILL SHOW YOU.”

“Oh, Latander please forgive me,” the half-orc mutters but doesn’t try to run.

“I am expecting some gratitude for my amazing deception skills,” Theris nags.

“It’s not your deception skills, it’s him who has bad perception.” Ulsha doesn't give Theris a chance.

Alethaine moves forward. The ogres camp stinks - not of the pleasant smell of death and decay, but  of dirt, blood, and gore.

Even Ulsha feels uncomfortable, especially since she has to hide the symbol on the chest.

The chieftain (the string of fresh halfling heads on his belt indicates that he is indeed the leader) proudly announces something in Black Speech. Ulsha refuses to translate.

“ABYSS, ABYSS, ABYSS!” The ogres chant. 

And then Alethaine notices a pit.

The pit that appears to be the primary source of the stench is placed by the gates of the castle. Alethaine approaches it, quietly wishing to be too small for the ogres to notice her.

The pit is made of flesh.

“What the…” Alethaine mutters in common. “Rhaich!”

The flesh pulses as if alive and it’s probably deep enough to reach the Underdark. The pit whispers and Alethaine concentrates to try to understand something.

The unnatural darkness holds a grip on her half-undead mind. It lurks in her memories, her fears, her insecurities.

A dead kitten resurrected by necromancy.

An old grave that smells like home.

Loneliness. Fear. Where do dhampirs go when they die?

Then she sees woods and fields dying, becoming a twisted version of themselves. The maw of the Abyss devours the world, leaving nothing but the undead, who starve to death.

“Alethaine!” Theris drags her away from the pit. “What in hell's wrong with you?!”

“What… I am fine!”

“You’ve almost jumped there!” The tiefling hisses. 

Suddenly the chieftain bumps his staff and the ogres start throwing stuff into the pit.

Parts of victims' bodies. Stolen gems. Pieces of clothes.

“I think they mistake it for the garbage pit,” Alethaine mutters.

“No,” Ulsha answers. “Those are offerings.”

The chieftain keeps sputtering words in Black Speech and Ulsha cringes at every syllable. 

Alethaine decides not to ask for a translation.

She keeps watching as things drop down into the bottomless pit.

And then she feels a tickling sensation in her fingers.

Magic.

Not the twisted and unnatural one she just experienced, but the real Feywild magic.

And it’s somewhere close.

Mierni starts tugging at Alethaine’s sleeve while making incoherent sounds. 

“What?” She follows his finger.

The chieftain grabs an intricately decorated book with runes that start shining the moment the dirty hands of the ogre touch it.

“The Silvermoony Spellbook,” Alethaine whispers.

Mierni starts nodding.

“Well,” Theris leans on him. “Cast magic hand or something!”

He shakes his head. 

“Someone, turn his speech on,” Theris spits. “Maybe we should scare him?”

“Touch Mierni and I will drag you to Gale as a test subject for his magic experiments,” Ulsha warns.

Alethaine tries to squeeze through the ogres, but their thick bodies keep pushing the dhampir back.

The chieftain opens the book, almost ripping the cover, and throws the expensive item into the pit.

“MAGE HAND!!!!” Mierni screams at the top of his lungs. A hand weaved of blue light floats towards the book and grabs it by the cover before the greedy pit devours it.

The ogres fall silent and Alethaine has this uneasy feeling of being watched by rather unfriendly creatures.

The mage's hand rises into the air so high the ogres can’t touch it. 

“Now we run?” Theris asks.

“Yes,” Alethaine agrees. “No, we run.”

The mage's hand dissolves and the book starts falling. Ulsha lifts Alethaine up and the elf manages to catch the book before it falls into the ogres’ hands.

“Run!” Ulsha puts Mierni on her wide shoulders. “Zigzag and spread in different directions!”

Alethaine rushes to the right while Ulsha and Mirni take the left.

“Oh, so you’ve left me! Of course, no one ever feels sorry for the bard!” Theris curses as he sprints towards the castle’s walls.

Alethaine sometimes doesn’t like being a dhampir.

Sometimes she wishes she could breathe, and didn't have fangs that constantly hurt her lips and gums.

But not in a moment like this. 

She easily leaves the angry ogres behind. The woods welcome her as if she were a real elf, not an undead. Her darkvision helps her see better and soon the crass voices fade away.

Alethaine stops and opens the book.

The unknown symbols dance on the page but she can’t grasp the meaning of the words.

The heavy presence of magic returns.

Strong, potent. And wild.

Alethaine freezes trying to identify its source.

Someone grabs the book from her pale hands.

“I think this belongs to us,” a red-haired half-elven woman appears out of the shadows. She wears leather trousers and a shirt and her only weapon is a dagger. “Oh, Fuckface says I should thank you for doing the dirty job. She is in a surprisingly good mood today!” --

Quenya and Neo-Sindarin vocabulary

Pen-channas! (Sindarin) -  Idiot! (Literal Translation: intelligence-less)

Samit olme ulundova (Quenya) - You smell like a monster

Caretya lusta ná (Quenya) - Your head is empty Rhaich! (Sindarin) - Curses! -- Tag list

@tugoslovenka  

@herstxrgirl 

@herdarkestnightelegance  

@vixstarria 

@not-so-lost-after-all  

@marcynomercy  

@theearthsfinalconfession 

@starlight-ipomoea    

@micropoe10 

@astarion-imagine-archive  

@veillsar

@elora-the-slutty-songstress  

@fayeriess  

@lumienyx  

@tallymonster    

@caitlincat-95  

@tragedybunny  

@valeprati  

@lynnlovesthestars   

@marina-and-the-memes  

@waking-eyes   

@ayselluna  

@connorsui  

@asterordinary  

@darkarchangel96  

@locallegume  

@brainfullofhotsauce   

@coffeeanddonutscafe  

@my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen 

@queenofthespacesquids  

@ednaaa-04  

@dajeong

@wilteddreamsofbaldursgate

@nyx-knox

@jessaryss

@sillybillylia

[klaprisun]

One Sunny Day

(Stardew Valley)(Haley x Female Farmer)

Chapter 27

All through the night I couldn’t let myself fall asleep. I was up daydreaming, overthinking, and walking through the whole day from start to end. I know exactly how I want everything to play out and when I should bring the bouquet to Haley’s.

First things first, I have to stop and get the bouquet. I waltz over to Pierre’s with an extra pep to my step. Caroline is standing and chatting with Pierre behind the counter this morning. They both turn and look at me when they hear the bell chime from over the door.

“Good morning!” I greet the two of them.

“Good morning, Danny. How can we help you?” Caroline greets back.

“I need a bouquet…please,” I was so excited that I nearly forgot my manners.

“Pierre, do you mind grabbing this wonderful girl a bouquet?” Caroline asks her husband.

“Right on it!” He says as he reaches to a shelf behind the counter. He pulls out a bouquet full of blue, purple, and yellow flowers. Lots of greenery were added to give it more depth and to make the colors pop. The flowers are wrapped in classic brown paper, but it was a little too plain for my liking.

“Do you mind tying a blue ribbon around the paper on the stems?” I ask Pierre.

“Of course I can do that. That’s a really good idea,” he replies as he goes searching on the shelf under the cash register. He takes such a long time that Caroline finally reaches down and finds it for him. He blushes in embarrassment and takes the ribbon from her.

“There we go. A beautiful bouquet with a blue ribbon tied into a bow.” Pierre passes the bouquet to me and I exchange it for a few of my coins.

I turn on my heels, bouquet in hand and head for the door.

“Good luck!” Pierre and Caroline call out with a wave. I give them a friendly wave back and start heading over to Emily and Haley's house.

When I arrive at their front door, I stand there on the doorstep for a minute. I contemplate all of the different ways this could go one more time before knocking on the front door.

I straighten my hat, adjust my shirt, dust my pants off and fluff the flowers of the bouquet as well before knocking on the door. Finally, I bring my hand up and knock on the front door.

“I knew you couldn’t stay away for much longer. I figured we’d see you at our house today,” Emily chuckles as she opens the door. She opens the door wider and invites me in. I step inside and make my way to the living room. I’m far too antsy to sit down just yet, so I stay standing.

“You are such a lovey dovey, Danny. Look at you with your bouquet of flowers, all dolled up,” Emily gushes. I didn’t really ‘doll up’ as Emily says. I only brushed my hair out really well and cleaned my boots up. I was just wearing my regular farm wear, I didn’t want to look like I’m trying TOO hard.

At the sound of my name leaving Emily’s mouth, Haley’s bedroom door flies open. Startled, Emily and I whip our heads her way.

Haley has done herself up nicer than I have ever seen. She was wearing a pink, halter top sundress that reached down to her mid thigh with her wavy blonde hair framing her face and draped over the front of her shoulders. Her nails have a fresh coat of her usual blue nail polish that brings out her eye color. The only bit of makeup she was wearing was mascara and her signature pink lipstick.

I can’t help but just stare at her as she stands at the doorway of her room. Her whole demeanor is glowing and bright today, giving me butterflies in my stomach.

My awkward staring has caused her to blush and look down at the ground. She twirls a strand of hair around her finger, waiting for one of us to speak.

“Get a room you two,” Emily laughs as she has been standing here watching us stare at each other. “You’re undressing each other with your eyes right in front of me.”

This causes Haley’s face to go redder than before. I also felt my face go red from what Emily said since I may or may not be guilty of it.

Emily marched away and went into her room due to the tension between Haley and I. She didn't want to be a third wheel or witness the weirdness going on.

“So…” Haley takes a few steps my way with her hands clasped behind her back.

“So…” I responded nervously. I had the bouquet behind my back where Haley couldn’t see it just yet.

“What are you doing here, Danny?” Haley asks me as she gets closer to me.

“I just came to see you. I have something for you that I’m hoping you like…”

“Oh yeah? What is it?” She tilts her head at me curiously.

I take the bouquet from behind my back and hand it out to her. I watch her eyes follow my movements and land on the bouquet as I hold it out. They immediately light up when she notices what I was holding out to her.

“Danny…” she whispers as she slowly takes it into her hand.

“I hope you like it. I made sure to get Pierre to add a blue ribbon to make it prettier,” I blush, scratching at the back of my neck.

“You do know what this symbolizes right?” Haley asks me with her eyebrow raised.

“I believe it means ‘romantic interest’ if I’m not mistaken?” I confidently responded. Her eyebrows raise in surprise, realizing I knew the intent behind the flowers. "Is there something wrong?” My voice filled with worry as I’m afraid I did something wrong.

“No no nothing is wrong. I’m just surprised…” She breathes out.

“Why are you surprised?” My voice is still trembling with worry.

“You really like me? After how I treated you?” She mumbles, unsure of being deserving of the gesture.

“Oh course I really like you. I thought this would make that clear?” I chuckle softly.

Haley walks closer to me and takes me by the hand. I feel my whole body heat up at her touch.

“My hand might be a little sweaty,” I whisper nervously.

“That’s okay. I was going to take you to go find a vase with me to put this in,” She says as she starts dragging me to the kitchen.

Haley lets go of my hand once we get to the kitchen and starts rummaging through the cupboards. She goes through all the ones at the bottom, but once she has to reach to the top cupboards, she can’t see what’s in them.

“Can you help me? Do you see a vase up there?” She asks while pointing to the shelves in the cupboard.

“Well I don’t see a vase in this one. Try the next one,” I directed her. She opens the next cupboard and motions for me to look. Sure enough, I see at the very back a tall, glass vase she could use for the bouquet. I place my hand on the counter for balance and reach with the other one to grab the vase at the back. But when I put my arm up to reach, I feel something skimming the exposed skin of my waist.

“You have such smooth skin for a farmer. I mean your calloused hands say otherwise, but everywhere else…” Haley says as she traces her fingers along my waist. I nearly lose balance while bringing the vase down.

“Well besides all the cuts and scrapes from the mines,” I responded as I put the vase on the counter. As I say that, her fingers brush across a gash on my stomach that hasn’t healed yet. Many of the injuries have yet to heal.

“Have you been taking care of them?” She asks me in a low tone, looking up at me through her eyelashes.

“Well.. uh...no,” I stutter as she brings her hand up to my face. She traces the cuts I have along my cheek, then down to the one I have going across my lip. She seems to linger on that one a little bit longer.

“Your lips are also soft considering you are out in the sun all day usually. You’d think they get sunburnt and chapped often?” She says.

“Mhmm,” I say in a daze, letting her fingers travel around my body. She slid them down my arm next, right down to the palm of my hand.

“Yeah look at all the callouses and scratches you got going on here. You really should let me put some cream on your hands. It’ll soften them up,” She traces the creases of my hand, causing me to get goosebumps.

I quietly nod my head as I admire her face. She wasn’t looking up at me to notice I was looking at her. She was too concentrated on my hand.

“Let’s go find a spot for this bouquet in my room,” she finally says as she takes the vase into her hands.

I’ve never been in Haley’s room before and I’m kind of nervous. Seeing the place where most of someone's personal life takes place is very intimate to me. She must be comfortable enough with me to let me into this part of her life.

Haley opens the door of her room and leads me inside. I take a couple of steps in and start admiring it. The wallpaper is a horizon of a beach with sand and water. There were even little sail boats scattered throughout the water of the wallpaper. Two big palm trees were part of the wallpaper as well. Her bed was pressed up to the corner of the room with a lamp beside it. On the other side was a dresser and a small side table next to it with a teddy bear on it. She had a cute, pink vanity to the right of the door and a lamp squeezed into the corner on another small side table. In the left front corner was a shelf with her camera perched on it. A huge potted plant was also next to it.

“Your room is cute,” I say, taking it all in. As I am focused on the room, I hear Haley close the door behind me.

“A lot of it is from when I was a kid. I never wanted to redo it and kind of embraced it. I added a few things as I got older such as this vanity,” she explains as she gestures to the pink vanity. She paces around the room trying to find somewhere to put the vase of flowers.

“This will be a good spot. First thing I’ll see when I enter my room!” She smiles as she places the vase on top of the big dresser. I can’t help but smile with her as she happily places it down.

I notice she has two pictures printed out and taped to her wall next to the dresser. I walk over to investigate. Haley notices where I’m looking and quickly moves in front of them.

“Nuh uh,” she shakes her head while blushing at me, still blocking the pictures.

“C’mon what do you have to hide?” I tease her trying to look around her. She just shrugs at me.

“Well now I have to see,” I say as I grab her by the waist. She squirms and squeals in my grasp and I toss her over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I keep her there as I take in the two pictures she has taped to her wall.

One of the pictures was a sweet one of her and Emily taking a selfie. They were making funny faces at the camera.

To my surprise, the other picture was of her and I at Marnie’s farm. It was one of us hanging out with the cows. I was showing her how to pet a cow, but instead of looking at the cow, I was looking at her. She was looking back up at me as well, not paying attention to my demonstration.

“Looky at what we got here. Is this a picture of you and I?” I tease her more.

“You weren’t supposed to see that!” she squeals from over my shoulder.

“That’s really creepy of you, Haley,” I joke. I start walking over to the bed but stop at a weird door at the back of her room.

“What’s in here?” I ask her. I spun around to show Haley what I was looking at since she was still draped over my shoulder.

“It’s a work in progress. I’ll show you when it’s done,” she replies.

I continue over to her bed where I put Haley down. I grab her by the waist again and lift her up off my shoulder. I gently toss her down onto the bed, causing her to let out an “oof”. Somehow, she still remains perfect, not a hair out of place. Her face was flushed due to all the blood rushing to her head from hanging over my shoulder.

She sits up on the bed and pats beside her, inviting me to sit next to her. Doing as I’m told, I take a seat beside her. I watch as she reaches her arm up and yanks my hat from my head. The static of my hat leaving my head causes my hair to tousle. She lets out a laugh as she puts the hat on her own head.

I feel my stomach erupt in butterflies from how good she looks in my cowboy hat. That, and other places of my body seem to enjoy it as well. The hem of her sundress seemed to creep farther up her thighs as she sat crisscrossed on her bed. I can’t help but quickly peek down at her thighs and body. The dress accentuates the curves of her hips and chest a little too well. It’s almost like she wore this dress on purpose.

“Whatcha looking at?” Haley catches me as I let my eyes linger a little too long.

“Oh…nothing…”I quickly replied awkwardly, my face heating up.

“Yeah…okay…” she skeptically calls my bluff with a smirk. She leans back onto her arms and stretches her legs out over my lap.

She flicks her eyes down at her legs and back up at me, giving me another smirk. Boldly, I take my hand and caress the side of her calf. I slowly bring myself to a lean, and bring my hand up her leg to caress her thigh. I hold my head up with my fist as I lean across the bed. She is still up farther on the bed than me, my head is only at her hip.

“You’re a tease,” she mutters under her breath to me.

“I’m the tease?” I raise an eyebrow at her, still caressing her thigh.

“Look what you are doing!” She points to my hand.

“Look what you’re wearing,” I breathe, tugging at the hem of her dress.

“I knew you’d like it,” she winks. I feel my breath hitch in my lungs at the wink.

“Stay for dinner, Danny,” she looks at me with a gleam in her eyes. I look around to find a clock. When I find one on the wall of her room, I see that it’s already dinner time. I hadn’t even noticed my stomach rumbling.

“If you so desperately want me to,” I respond playfully, giving her dress another few tugs at the hem.

[slusheeduck]

Casual Banter Masterpost

aka my Fictober 2023 drabbles! I figure I might as well get them all in one place on Tumblr, since I have them in one AO3 fic. Using the titles and descriptions from AO3.

Featuring my named Tav (Falerin), Tav/Astarion, a lot of Gale, and most importantly INTERACTIONS BETWEEN THE COMPANIONS.

Day 1: Smart - Astarion asks for a magic lesson. Day 2: Prize - Karlach wins a prize at the circus. Day 3: Fireside - One last campfire chat before the Shadowlands. Day 4: Cooking Lesson - Lae'zel learns to cook. Day 5: Mask - Astarion tries on a mask for funsies. It goes badly. Day 6: Sick - Gale and Falerin chat about friendship and illnesses Day 7: Anchor - Astarion regrettably holds Halsin's hand. Day 8: Good Taste - Gale shares a treat, and a good time is had by all. Day 9: A Talk - Just a little chat, in regards to some campsite romance. Day 10: Drizzt Do'Urden - Wyll, Karlach, and Astarion find some common ground. Day 11: Temporary - The campsite romance hits a snag. Day 12: Mirror - Gale makes good on teaching Astarion magic. Day 13: Lost Wizard: If Found, Contact Tara - Tara despairs over the state of her runaway pet wizard. Day 14: Clowning Around - Falerin uses a disguise kit. Astarion wants a divorce. Day 15: Proper Horn Care - There's no possible way to write this summary without it looking horny. Day 16: A Token - Halsin carves a little gift for Astarion. Day 17: One Nice Thing - Karlach shows Shadowheart something nice, when she really needs it. Day 18: 90% Evil - Why WOULDN'T the rogue be the one to talk to the death cultist? Day 19: Seamstress - No one in camp but Astarion would have survived Home Ec. Day 20: The Selfless Choice - Or, How To Be A Confidant To Both Halves Of A Couple In The Face Of World-Ending Catastrophe, By Gale Dekarios Day 21: Taste Test - Falerin is...kind of a fucking weirdo. This is Gale's burden to bear. Day 22: Curl-based Despair - Astarion experiences #curlygirlproblems. Falerin helps. Day 23: Hunger - Someone gets a little hangry. Day 24: Pact, Pt. 1 - Astarion finds out about Fal's illness. Day 25: Pact, Pt. 2 - Astarion finds out about Fal's illness. Day 26: The Cuddliest Foe - Lae'zel does some research. Clive assists. Day 27: Homecoming - Two resident Baldurians discuss coming home. Day 28: Date - Astarion gets some new clothes. Day 29: A Healthy Dose of Theatrics - Are you really best friends if you've never been tempted to throttle each other? Day 30: Starfall -The newly formed party takes a moment to enjoy a magical sight. Day 31: Epilogue - A quiet moment after saving the world. Post-Fictober Drabbles:

Stars in His Eyes - Fal learns about naming ceremonies--and why Astarion has the name he does.

Slumber Party - Astarion and Gale have a fun night of kicking their feet, giggling, and discussing the all-consuming power they both intend on taking for themselves. Kidnapped - Astarion's siblings succeed in getting him back to the manor - but he's stronger now. Plus he has a very, very pissed-off partner. Rewriting The Story - After defeating Cazador and a tryst in the graveyard, it's time for some relationship reflection. Happy - Surely being the lover of an ascended vampire is the happiest ending one could hope for. (Ascended Astarion AU)

Wild Heart - A brief moment, the morning after the almost ascension, where two early risers have a chat.

Matters of Balance - Withers performs a resurrection. Breathe Deep, and Move - You can never really go home.

Side-Tracked - As they're embroiled in a murder mystery, Fal decides to take Astarion out for some enrichment.

Late Night Thoughts - Astarion has some thoughts on Falerin's lie from earlier in the day. (Bonus chapter for Side-Tracked)

New Tricks - Astarion discovers a new trick while trying to herd a cat.

Party Favors - The ultra-self-indulgent take on the ever popular tiefling party.

Meet-Cute - Every couple starts somewhere. And sometimes that's on the ground, with a knife.

Five Good Nights - Four good nights shared before the tiefling party, and one shared after.

~

Rewinding the Thread - CB adjacent 3-shot

A chance conversation in Baldur's Gate leads to an unlikely visitor to Falerin and Astarion's home a year after the Netherbrain's defeat. She pleads for just one thing: that Astarion pays a visit to his family - his true family, the one that's mourned him for two centuries.

In The Weeds - Astarion decides to take in the sights of Baldur's Gate during the day, and has a nice conversation with a local.

The Invitation - A surprise visitor leads to a bit of arguing, an invitation home, and quite possibly Faerûn's most awkward tea.