#do you think if he spun fast enough he’d fly away

[icurushasfallen]

He’s my baby girl fr

just out of curiosity, logan tried to pull this move but ended up lying flat on his back after the first flip

[yoon-kooks]

seven tattoos later | jjk

🐰pairing: fuckboy!jungkook x tattooartist!reader

🐰genre: fluff, smut

🐰summary: if the hottest fuck boy in town made it a point to visit your little tattoo studio every week, how many tattoos would it take to make you fall in love with him?

🐰word count: 3.3k

🐰warnings: unprotected sex, slight exhibitionism, sex on the couch, doggy, hes big and rough, lip tattoos, hickeys, lil bit of drinking, hes so annoying in this im so sorry

As you close up for the night, you look out the window and count at least four couples out for a dog walk. It’s past eight, but still warm and bright out. It’s like the sun never stops shining. Summer sucks like that.

Maybe you’d appreciate the sun a little more if you had a puppy to walk or at least a handsome guy friend to drag you outside so you aren’t just rotting away in your empty tattoo studio on a Friday night. Everyone’s apparently on vacation or getting married in Hawaii or something, so work’s been exceptionally slow this week. Fuck summer.

It’s lonely.

You might even miss Jeon Jungkook, the last person you ever expected to get along with. The first time he walked into your studio, he didn’t waste any time in hitting on you and making it painfully obvious. You were convinced he only walked in and got a tattoo that day because he thought you’d be an easy lay. 

That was around two months ago.

“What do you think would look good on me?” he’d asked while scrolling through your portfolio. You knew exactly what he was doing. He wanted you to take in his good looks, imagine the carved out physique beneath that leather jacket. That’s what guys like him do. And he was far from the first male client to ask you that. He wasn't special.

“I don’t know, maybe like a bunny or a duckling?” You just said the first things that came to mind—your two favorite animals. You didn’t give a flying fuck about what design would actually look good on someone you’d just met. Your icy heart definitely doesn’t warm up to people that quickly no matter how hot they are.

“Bunnies are cute,” he said without hesitation. You swear he was staring right at the dainty bunny tattoo on your collarbone. Then he tapped the top of his left hand, the one without all the other tattoos. “I’ll take one right here.” 

At the time, you didn’t think he was serious. (He was serious.)

“So, for touch-ups and stuff, it’d probably be good if I had your number, yeah?” he asked, leaning against the counter and admiring the final product on his hand. Him and his cocky ass smile. It’s annoying how hot he is. Unfair, too.

After inputting your number into his phone, you needed to make one thing very clear: “Send me a dick pic and I’ll tattoo all of your exes’ names on your forehead.”

“I promise no dick pics,” he chuckled. He must’ve taken your threat as a cute little joke. “But I would like to take you out sometime.”

For a moment, you just stared at his handsome face. Everything about him was bright and shiny. His pretty eyes, the art wrapped around his arm, that confident smile. The sun had nothing on him.

But the thing is, you knew better than to trust guys like him. They’re always saying shit they don’t mean. And you were tired of being let down by those empty words.

What would make Jeon Jungkook any different from the fuck boys who’ve burned you in the past?

You didn’t know enough about him to answer that question, but you also weren’t willing to get to know him.

It was for the best.

So after you politely declined the invitation, the boy nodded, waved farewell, and jogged out the door. At least he was decent enough to accept his fate and move right along. (He wasn’t.)

Just when you thought you’d gotten rid of him, he spun around. “See you next week for the touch-up, Y/N.”

He was still smiling like an idiot. You didn’t understand why.

“You’re not gonna need a touch-up in a week,” you shouted back as he dashed off. Fast little fucker. You doubt he heard you, but it didn’t really matter. With all those other tattoos, he already knew how touch-ups worked.

Besides, what were the odds of him showing his pretty face again after rejection? Every other client you turned down never came back. Not even for a touch-up.

You didn’t believe for a second Jeon Jungkook would be back.

A week later, he proved you wrong and waltzed right back in like you never rejected his ass. Of course he did. The week after that, he had three of your designs etched into his hand. And he just kept coming back for more, week after week.

Somewhere along the way, you learned he’s a wedding photographer, an artist like you. He’s shown you his photos a few times even after you specifically said you hate weddings. The photos were gorgeous, though. As much as weddings make you want to gag, the sweet moments he captured had the reverse effect. Somehow, you were envious of what those couples had.

You’ve also overcome the impossible task of learning to tolerate his dumb humor. It’s probably because his laugh and smile are so contagious. He won’t stop running his mouth until he sees you smile either, especially when you’re having a bad day. Your cheeks hurt whenever he’s with you.

Fast forward two months and he now has a total of seven of your tattoos. It feels weird not seeing him this week, not breathing in his woodsy cologne, not leaving your mark on his perfect skin. But you suppose that’s just what happens when the guy who’s been annoying the shit out of you suddenly goes to Hawaii. The withdrawal symptoms are kicking in. 

Your world is a whole lot quieter. It’s peaceful for once. And yet, you miss that chaotic idiot. 

Fuck summer. Fuck people who get married in Hawaii.

Your phone buzzes just as you finish cleaning up. Hopefully it’s someone who wants to book an appointment. (It’s not.)

When you read “jungcock,” you roll your eyes with the faintest smile—the perfect example of your clashing feelings for the boy.

jungcock🥴 [8:24PM] “Got time for me tonight?🫦”

Y/N🐰 [8:24PM] “arent you supposed to be in hawaii rn?”

Y/N🐰 [8:24PM] “and dont use that emoji ever again”

jungcock🥴 [8:25PM] “I’d never choose Hawaii over you😌”

jungcock🥴 [8:25PM] “(They called off the wedding)”

jungcock🥴 [8:25PM] “🫦”

[8:25PM] [jungcock🥴 is now blocked]

[8:31PM] [You’ve unblocked jungcock🥴]

jungcock🥴 [8:31PM] “Is that a yes?”

Y/N🐰 [8:31PM] “i hate you a lot”

jungcock🥴 [8:32PM] “Hear me out”

jungcock🥴 [8:32PM] “What if😳👉👈 I brought snacks?”

Y/N🐰 [8:34PM] “fine”

You groan and shove your phone back into your pocket. Sometimes you wonder how you let this dork finesse his way into your life. Where did you go wrong?

Jungkook arrives at your studio ten minutes later with your favorite peace offerings—soju and pancakes. Ah yes, this is how he finessed his way to the top.

“Ooh snacks,” you hum as if you didn’t believe in his ability to pick something up on the way over. “What kind of pancakes did you get?”

“Your favorite, obviously,” he nods, handing you the warm box and a fork. There’s something about the way he crosses his arms, as though he’s just waiting to catch your reaction when you open it. Why does he look so fucking proud of himself?

“I never told you my favorite pancakes.” You raise a brow. The only thing you told him was your favorite pancake place. But they have like a million different options, ranging from classic (blueberry and chocolate chip) to fancy (tiramisu and that edible gold stuff). There’s no way he can magically guess your favorite pancake.

“Just open it.” He gives you his idea of a “playful shove” on the shoulders, which would’ve knocked you over with the pancakes if he hadn’t grabbed a hold of your wrist. He was definitely that annoying kid on the playground who chased around all the girls he had a crush on.

You mumble on about him being too rough as you open the box. To your surprise, it’s strawberries and whipped cream drenched in red syrup on top of a fat stack of pancakes—aka your favorite pancakes.

You look up from the mountain of strawberries and tilt your head at the boy like a confused puppy.

“I asked the waitress with the purple hair what you normally order,” he explains.

“Okay, but she doesn’t know me by name. How’d you describe me to her?”

He takes a few steps closer until you get a whiff of that woodsy cologne you missed so much. You feel the tips of his fingers trace along your collarbone. He’s not so rough anymore. In fact, the warm caress just barely grazes your skin, as if to tease your body. You’ve always lowkey looked forward to that tiny bit of warmth while working on his tattoos. Maybe he’s always been aware.

“I called you a cutie with a bunny tattoo.” His nose scrunches when he smiles this time, giving your skin one last poke. “She knew it was you when I showed her the one on my hand.”

Of course Jeon Jungkook walked into your favorite pancake place pretending to be your boyfriend. Of course he did something as embarrassing as showing off what appears to be matching tattoos. All for the sake of bringing you your favorite pancakes on an otherwise shitty summer night.

“Now she’ll think we have matching tattoos,” you say softly, shoving his chest. “How am I supposed to show my face in there ever again?”

“Hey, I don’t have a problem with the whole matching tattoos thing.” He puts his hands up to protect his chest from your wrath in case you’re feeling feisty. “I’ll just pick it up for you again.”

You’re not feeling feisty, so you give the boy a thumbs-up and bring him over to the couch in the back corner of the studio where you usually eat or take naps.

At long last, you stab a piece of pancake and strawberry and coat it in whipped cream before shoving it into your mouth. It’s delicious. “Is it mean if I say I’m glad the Hawaii wedding was canceled?”

“Because you’d be lonely without me here?” he teases.

“No, it’s because you bought me free pancakes, you simp,” you grin, handing off the fork to the simp so he too can get a taste of heaven. He passes you the soju in return even though you’re already feeling a little giggly.

“It’s not free,” he denies. “I’m supposed to be here for another tattoo, remember?”

After a tiny sip, you set the green bottle aside and grab Jungkook’s hand with both of yours. It looks so silly with all your tattoos surrounding the cute little bunny in the middle. He’s silly for letting you do that to him.

“I don’t think there’s any more room on your hand for another one,” you giggle. “Where am I gonna tattoo you next?”

You wonder how many tattoos he has under his clothes. Maybe he’s already got them all over the place. Then, eventually, his body will run out of space and you won’t be able to tattoo him anymore. That would suck. You kinda like his company.

“What about a lip tattoo?” you chirp, tapping on his lower lip with your index finger. When he doesn’t swat you away, you tug down on his lip ring to check for a hidden tattoo there. Nothing. “I have one.”

“You do?” His eyes immediately fall on your red strawberry lips. You pull down your lower one for him to see tiny black letters that read “bad girl.”

“My ex did it. I was supposed to tattoo ‘bad boy’ on his lip, but he chickened out,” you shrug. “Isn’t that crazy?”

“Wait, I thought you can’t stand matching tattoos?” He’s such a good listener. Boyfriend material.

“I didn’t have anything against them up until that point,” you hum as you play with his wavy hair. The perm is cute on him. “But that’s basically when my perspective changed.”

That’s when you lost faith in men. When you grew to hate the idea of marriage. When you started rejecting every guy who approached you, even if he was half as hot as Jeon Jungkook.

“Well fuck your ex,” he frowns. Yeah, fuck him. No, wait. Your ex isn’t the one you want to fuck right now. “You’ve convinced me. The next tattoo I’m getting is a lip tattoo.”

“Got any design ideas for what you want there?” You climb into his lap, cup his chin with one hand, and play with his lip piercings some more. You’ve never been this up close and personal with Jungkook, but you like it. You can already feel his cock hardening beneath you through your leggings.

“Your lips,” he says without hesitation. Cheesy, but you’ll take any excuse right now to close the gap between you and him.

Just like that, something clicks in your body, and your lips just find their way to his. You’re not sure how much of it is alcohol and how much is your actual feelings for the boy, but it doesn’t really matter. Not when the kiss tastes like strawberry pancakes. It’s perfect.

You throw your arms over his shoulders as he kisses back. He’s already got his hands slipped up the back of your little tank top. 

Your hips start to roll against him.

“Should we close the blinds?” he asks against your lips. “Unless you like an audience.”

You glance at the window. The sun is finally going down, but of course people are still walking their dogs. Maybe they didn’t get the memo that it’s officially fucking hours, not dog walking hours.

Normally, you’d be all for closing the blinds and turning out the lights, but your ass is nice and comfy in his lap and you’d rather not change that. Plus the back of the couch should hide 90% of what’s going on.

You shed your tank top off and toss it onto the coffee table next to the unfinished pancakes. His big eyes flick to your lacy black bralette. 

“Let them watch.” You press your lips into his neck and suck away like a vampire. The hickeys you’re about to leave him with will have to make do as temporary tattoos for now. You’re not gonna have time to tattoo him tonight.

“You sure you want people to see you so desperate and needy like this?” he asks as you wiggle out of your leggings. His hands immediately find your ass and give it a good squeeze.

“I’m not needy,” you whine, your naughty hand feeling how large his cock is through his joggers.

“I think you’re pretty needy, Y/N.” Two fingers slip past your thong and spread the wet lust between your legs. He has the biggest smirk on his face as your body squirms to his touch. You do everything in your power to hold back a gasp. “Do you want me to fuck you that badly?”

Yes, but you’re not going to admit it. Ever.

“No way,” you answer with confidence. He helps you out of his lap and you let him prop you up on your hands and knees so he can get a good look at your ass. “This is just my way of thanking you for the pancakes since we both know you aren’t getting that lip tattoo tonight.”

“The lip tattoo can wait.” You feel your thong drop to the couch where it belongs. Two very strong hands hold you at the waist. “You’re my number one priority tonight.”

As he fills you with his cock, you’re already melting to the heat between your legs. Your weak little arms lose all their strength. You reach for your fluffy white cloud pillow to muffle your moans and let him do all the work from behind.

The tight hold he has on you is a mix of possessiveness and all the sexual tension built up over the past two months. You wonder how many times he thought about bending you over and fucking you silly in the midst of getting a cute little frog tattoo. You’ve seen the way his lustful eyes look at you during his appointments. You’re not that oblivious.

“Nice ass tattoo, by the way.” He pinches the bit of skin with two pink butterflies. You’d always regretted that one because not everyone shares the same appreciation for it, but that tiny love pinch made it all worth it. “You and your cute little tattoos.”

He slides in and out, pounding your deepest spot, and drawing a pathetic whimper from your throat every few seconds. Doesn’t help that he has a finger or two rubbing away at your swollen little clit. That’s when you realize you’ve been missing out on amazing sex for far too long. Seven whole tattoos. That’s how long it took before you gave in.

He’s already rougher now than the playful shove that nearly knocked you over earlier. Good.

This is exactly what you need after such a boring work week.

“What would you be doing now if I were taking wedding pictures in Hawaii?” His voice is getting breathier. He’s working hard out there.

“Gagging at all the romantic shit you’d be sending me.” Even if he weren’t physically there with you, you know he’d still find a way to be annoying. He’d let you know he’s still thinking of you.

“Don’t worry, I won’t make you gag tonight.” You don’t have to turn around to know he’s got that dumb smirk on his face. “Maybe another time. If you’re into that.”

Your response is a soft moan into the pillow. The thought of his cock shoved down your throat isn’t as repulsive as you would’ve thought two months ago. Giving head isn’t usually your thing, but you’re open to trying it with him. You’re glad he can’t see you lick your lips.

He doesn’t slow down either, instead picking up the pace and going harder. Your fingers dig into the pillow, your whole body dripping in pleasure. It feels too good.

“Mm, Jungkook,” you pant like a poor puppy with your ass up in the air. Your little clit can’t take much more of his fingers. You’re so close.

“Thought you couldn’t stand me,” he teases as you tighten around him. He’s so annoying! During sex, too. “And now you’re about to cum for me?”

“Fuck you,” you gasp as the wave of pleasure passes through you. His fingers and cock help you ride out the high. He’s lucky he’s a sweet guy with a strong sex game. Otherwise you wouldn’t have fallen for his annoying ass.

As soon as he pulls out, he flips you onto your back, staring down at you with his cock in hand. A few extra pumps along his length is all he needs to get his release and drizzle your belly with his creamy glaze.

He climbs over you to give you a soft peck on the lips. You’ve been with a lot of fuck boys before, but you can’t remember any of them kissing you once the sex was done and over with.

This boy is different.

He lets you lie there, basking in the afterglow as he searches the studio for a clean towel. When he finally gets ahold of one, he offers a hand to help you sit up and gets you cleaned up.

“All jokes aside, I’m happy you were here tonight,” you say in a tiny voice. “Fuck Hawaii weddings.”

He chuckles in his usual adorkable way. “You should come to a wedding with me sometime��when I’m not working, of course. Maybe you won’t hate them as much as you think.”

You lean in for another kiss. There’s still a hint of pancake on his tongue, but it's even sweeter. “Sure.”

The corners of his lips curve upward in satisfaction. The annoying little shit is about to jump out. You can feel it. (The annoying little shit does not jump out.)

“Now finish your pancakes,” he smiles. For once, it’s not him looking all smug and shit. And it’s really endearing.

Somehow, he just keeps proving you wrong. In a good way.

You look at your favorite pancakes on the table and wave them off. “Nah, I’m good.” Once more, you scoot your ass onto him and press a finger to his lip. “I think I like the taste of you better.”

[its-vannah]

Haunted | Sebastian Sallow x Reader

A/N: So…I’m sorry in advance to anyone who reads this. It’s…emotionally damaging.

Warnings: So, so much angst, mentions of death, mentions of sickness, major spoilers for Hogwarts Legacy, grief, broken friendships, right person/wrong time

Speak Now x Sebastian Sallow Masterlist

You and I walk a fragile line

“Sebastian…” You trailed off, tears welling in your eyes as memories of his uncle’s lifeless body on the ground replayed through your head.

But he remained still, unable to process what had just happened. It all went by so fast: Solomon dueling you, Sebastian casting the killing curse at his uncle, and Anne sending her brother flying back when she saw what he had done.

I have known it all this time

Ominis had told you time and time again that Sebastian was taking everything too far. But your dedication and loyalty towards your first true friend at Hogwarts had sent you on a path alongside him.

But I never thought I'd live to see it break

You’d tell yourself he’d stop, that he’d realize when he was going too far. He promised you himself that if he ever found himself going too deep, he wouldn’t go any further.

But Sebastian had never been the greatest at keeping his promises.

It's getting dark and it's all too quiet

You knelt down beside him, “You promised you wouldn’t let it get this far. You promised.”

“I don’t want to get into what I promised and what I didn’t,” Sebastian hissed, “I just lost my own uncle—I don’t need you to guilt me into regret.”

And I can't trust anything now

You tensed up at his words, “You don’t regret what you did? What led up to it?”

“He almost killed you—he stopped me from saving Anne! You know I did the right thing, Y/N. I had no other choice.”

And it's coming over you like it's all a big mistake

You should’ve tried to stop him. All those promises he made, all the times he blindly led you into danger—nothing would ever be enough for him unless his sister was healed.

Mistakes had been made on both of your parts—but you couldn’t help but think if you had stopped him sooner, that none of this would’ve happened.

Oh, I'm holding my breath

“You just killed someone, Sebastian. How did you have no other choice?” You choked, sinking back on your heels, fingers gripping the earth around you to try and ground yourself.

Won't lose you again

The past few months had flown by, with you running to his aid in order to keep an eye on him. Ominis didn’t want to lose him to the dark arts—and neither did you. But it was too late. He was already gone—you had lost him.

Something's made your eyes go cold

Searching his eyes for any sign of remorse, the only emotion you could find on his face was one of determination and anger. He was more hurt that his uncle had destroyed the relic than he was that he had murdered his own blood.

Come on, come on, don't leave me like this

Blinking back the tears as your mind spun, you reached for his hand, gripping it tightly, “Sebastian—please stop. You can’t do this ever again.”

I thought I had you figured out

“If I give up now, I give up on Anne. And I will never give up on my sister.”

Something's gone terribly wrong

Sebastian was a shadow of the boy you had grown to know and, against better judgement, fall in love with.

You're all I wanted

You had always dreamt of holding his hand in yours, brushing your lips against his knuckles. But you never thought that the dream of holding his hand would be your worst nightmare.

Come on, come on, don't leave me like this

“Sebastian, please,” You cried, “You’ve gone too far—this is what Ominis was worried about. What Solomon was worried about. Please.”

I thought I had you figured out

Sebastian rose from the ground, his hand still entwined in yours.

“Help me, Y/N. Help me cure Anne.”

“I’ve trying to help you come to your senses, Sebastian. Stop this. Please,” You begged, but he merely tried to pull his hand away.

Tightening your grip, you pleaded with him not to go any further. But he finally shrugged your hand away, leaving you a weeping mess.

Can't breathe whenever you're gone

Watching him leave, you could hardly contain your tears. You had witness a murder and the downfall of your best friend—the boy you loved—in the span of an hour.

Can't turn back now, I'm haunted

Returning to Hogwarts that night, you found yourself feeling hollow. You walked back to your dormitory numb, your ears ringing and head spinning whenever you thought about the events that had just unfolded.

Stood there and watched you walk away

At the end of the hallway, you spotted Sebastian entering the Undercroft. Normally, you’d be on his heels, ready to follow him to the ends of the earth. But now you found yourself watching him walk away, standing still as if time had frozen.

From everything we had

Memories of all the months you had spent with Sebastian by your side came racing back into your mind. The two of you were unstoppable together: at the top of your class, the best duelists in the school, and always getting into some sort of mischief.

But I still mean every word I said to you

Despite everything he had said and done, you know deep down that you’d forgive him in a heartbeat if he only asked. Your love for him easily replaced the disappointment.

He will try to take away my pain

Over the next few months, you saw Sebastian less and Garreth and Natty more. You tried to surround yourself with positivity—even though your mind was elsewhere.

Natty would try and take you on adventures of your own while Garreth got you tangled up in potion making. They understood you were hurting and they did everything in their power to try and take it away.

And he just might make me smile

But they were idiots. They knew you were faking every smile, recognized that your laughs sounded phony, and noticed your eyes were empty.

But the whole time I'm wishing he was you instead

You would give anything to make things go back to the way they were before… before…

Oh, holding my breath

Excusing yourself from the table with Natty and Garreth, you exited the Great Hall, trying to steady your nerves.

Won't see you again

Pacing around the empty corridor, you tried to think of the last time you were happy. But every memory had something to do with Sebastian or Ominis. And thinking of the latter made you think of the former and that made you think of—

Something keeps me holding on to nothing

You spotted Sebastian out of the corner of your eye, his focus on you.

He’d never admit this, but he worried about you. He’d never stop what he was doing—but he took notice of your changing behavior and often watched you from afar, just to make sure you were okay.

Come on, come on, don't leave me like this

Your eyes met his, but the second he noticed you were looking back at him, he bolted, speed walking through the halls.

I thought I had you figured out

Against better judgement, you followed him, trying to keep up with him.

“Sebastian!” You called out, “Wait—please!”

Something's gone terribly wrong

It didn’t take long before he was trapped in the astronomy tower with no where to run. He couldn’t hide from you anymore.

“Y/N—you shouldn’t be here.”

“You shouldn’t be running!” You exclaimed, nearly out of breath from running up three flights of stairs.

Sebastian groaned, gripping the balcony railing, “You make your choice, Y/N, and I made mine.”

You're all I wanted

“Merlin, Sebastian, are you that daft? You’re the only thing I wanted—the only person I wanted to see each day. You were my best friend and I—I—Merlin, I loved you. I still do. And it hurts knowing that I’ll never even remotely come first.”

He sighed, unable to meet your gaze, “I love you, too, but I can’t…I can’t focus on anything or anyone else until Anne is healed.”

Your shoulders sank in defeat and you once again found yourself blinking back the tears that welled in your eyes.

Come on, come on, don't leave me like this

Grabbing his hand, you pulled him back towards you, your lips crashing on his. He deepened the embrace, his hands finding your waist while yours grabbed the color of his shirt, pulling him as close as you could.

Your back against the wall, your hands made their way through his hair, tangling in his brown locks.

When the two of you finally pulled away, your foreheads resting against each other, both of you were out of breath.

Pressing one last chaste kiss to your lips, Sebastian slowly stepped away.

I thought I had you figured out

Biting down on your bottom lip, you tried to contain the sobs that tried racking through your body.

Can't breathe whenever you're gone

You couldn’t breathe—he truly had taken your breath away. Sinking down to the floor, you closed your eyes.

Can't turn back now, I'm haunted

Now, it was you who was a fraction of the girl you used to be.

I know

He had changed.

I know

You had changed.

I just know

And nothing would ever be the same again.

You're not gone, you can't be gone, no

The Sebastian you had known and fallen in love with was gone—replaced with someone you couldn’t even recognize.

Come on, come on, don't leave me like this

You’d do anything to see “your Sebastian” one last time. But that wasn’t possible.

I thought I had you figured out

What if you had been wrong—what if the man Sebastian had become was who he had been the whole time? Had he been lying to you—misguiding you—hell, manipulating you?

Something's gone terribly wrong

What if this was your fault? If you had said something sooner, maybe he would’ve—maybe he’d still—you could barely think.

Won't finish what you started

The truth was, it was unlikely he’d figure out a way to cure Anne. And even if he did, he’d be so overcome by the dark arts he’d probably wind up selling his soul to the wrong people.

Come on, come on, don't leave me like this

Rising from the floor, you gripped the railing before you, watching as the clouds shifted in the sky.

I thought I had you figured out

From now on, you wouldn’t let the past control your future. No matter how much your heart ached and long for Sebastian, you’d put one foot in front of the other until you had moved on.

Can't breathe whenever you're gone

Taking a deep breath, the fresh spring air filled your lungs.

Can't go back, I'm haunted

“Goodbye, Sebastian…” You muttered, pulling away from the balcony.

You and I walk a fragile line

From then on, whenever you saw him in the hallway, you avoided making any sort of eye contact with him. You no longer followed him into the secret corners of Hogwarts—instead, you made your own path.

I have known it all this time

Your friendship with Ominis was mending, although it would take time. Now, your time was mostly spent with Natty and Garreth.

Never ever thought I'd see it break

For the first time in a long time, a genuine smile settled over your face at one of the Weasley’s failed experiments. You and Natty just shook your heads, a small laugh escaping each of your lips.

Never thought I'd see it

It still hurt, seeing him in the hallway on his own. You never thought you’d see the day where he was walking without you by his side.

But you were healing—no matter how haunted you remained.

[prouvaireafterdark]

For a Kiss So Fatal and So Warm

Here’s my take on Louis’ first night as a vampire, inspired by the AMC trailers and spoilers/speculation I’ve picked up along the way (that will almost assuredly be canon noncompliant the minute episode 1 airs lol) 

For context, if that matters to you, this fic runs on the assumption that Louis and Lestat were already involved romantically and sexually when Lestat turned him.

Also, I just think it’d be neat if they fucked in Lestat’s coffin, so I had to give the people (me) what they want :) Hope you enjoy!

Also on AO3!

***

It was ironic, really, that in the end all Louis had needed to do to truly appreciate the beauty of life was die.

He walked through the familiar streets of New Orleans with his maker by his side, experiencing all his city had to offer as if for the first time. He absorbed every detail with startling clarity and wonder: the stars sparkling like diamonds in the sky above, the curious thrum of electricity from the street lamps, the chaotic melodies of jazz musicians still crooning well into the early morning. Even their shoes hitting the rough cobblestones underfoot held some small fascination, each sharp sound echoing in his ears, a novelty.

Most enchanting of all, perhaps, was the way Lestat’s curls bounced with each step, shining in the moonlight like spun gold. Louis couldn’t stop looking at them. He wanted to reach out and touch them, wondered if they would feel even softer than he remembered as they slipped through his fingers. 

Lestat caught him staring and smiled at him wolfishly, excitement bursting in his pale blue eyes. In a fit of impulse, he grabbed Louis’ arm and pulled him into a dark, deserted alleyway with a celerity no human could ever hope to match. 

Louis gasped in surprise as he was crowded up against the brick wall behind him and Lestat caught the sound eagerly with his mouth. Louis melted against him with a soft groan, Lestat’s kiss overwhelming him like never before. His mouth felt more sensitive now, every brush of Lestat’s lips a revelation, and pressed this close he could hear the beating of Lestat’s heart, feel the blood rushing beneath his palms as he cupped the sides of his neck to pull him closer. 

It ignited within him a lust unlike any he’d ever experienced, and before he even realized what he was doing his mouth had slipped from Lestat’s lips to the hinge of his jaw before finally dipping down to latch onto his throat. His fledgling fangs ached as his mouth opened over his maker’s thundering pulse, and Louis was helpless in the face of such powerful instinct.

Lestat moaned, loud and unabashed, as Louis finally sank his teeth into his neck, his right hand flying up to cradle the back of Louis’ skull. 

The blood that poured into Louis’ mouth was rich and warm, as intoxicating as it had been the first time he’d tasted it earlier this evening. The pleasure he felt as he drank was immense, transcendent—similar in intensity to when Lestat had made love to him and yet so different, so utterly beyond description.

Lestat was enjoying himself too, if the way he gasped in his ear and rolled his hips against him was anything to go by, but he only let Louis drink for a short moment longer before he started to push him away. 

Louis resisted him, holding fast to the back of his neck with one hand, the other wound tight around his waist as he drank from him greedily. 

“That’s enough, Louis. You’ve had enough,” Lestat said, voice strained, his grip on Louis’ arms like iron, and the words washed over Louis’ mind like a bucket of ice water. 

He let go of Lestat instantly, breathing hard as he leaned back against the wall behind him. 

“I’m sorry,” Louis apologized, brow drawn in shame even as his eyes were still transfixed on Lestat’s neck. He watched the wound he’d left there slowly close, until it was as if it had never been there at all. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“You don’t?” Lestat asked, an amused lilt to his voice as he looked at him, a mischievous glint in his eye. He reached up to wipe away an errant drop that has escaped Louis’ mouth with the pad of his thumb before licking it suggestively off his own finger. “If only the night was still young, Louis. I have so much left to show you.”

Heat kindled low in Louis’ belly as he tracked the movement of Lestat’s tongue—until his words registered and he realized what Lestat was really saying. 

His thirst was sated for the moment, having just had his fill of Lestat’s immortal blood, but Louis knew that, as his maker and his mentor, Lestat intended to show him how to kill. 

It was one thing to drink from Lestat in the heat of the moment, Louis thought—and even that he had not managed without guilt—but to hunt and murder an innocent human being? Contrary to Lestat’s insistence that Louis would feel differently once he was turned, that he would shrug off his human sense of morality along with his mortal coil, in this moment, the very idea of such an act still turned his stomach.  

His expression must have betrayed the battle within him because Lestat laughed suddenly, shaking his head as one would at the charming naivety of a child. Louis’ mood soured further at the sound, but Lestat either ignored it or didn’t notice as he took Louis by the hand.

“Come now, mon chéri,” he said, threading their fingers together. “Dawn approaches.”

Louis followed without comment and in mere minutes they had made it back to Lestat’s hotel and were walking down the hall toward the door of his suite. 

Lestat pulled him inside without delay and Louis hardly had time to hang his coat by the door before he was being ushered through the sitting room toward Lestat’s bedroom.

The room looked just as it had the first time he’d entered it, decorated with opulent wallpaper, ornate wood furniture, intricately patterned oriental rugs, and a large four-poster bed against the far wall, its soft bedding still undisturbed. Lestat had spared no expense when choosing his accommodations, it would seem. 

As he studied it all with new eyes, Louis recalled how he had felt when Lestat had first pressed him back against those sumptuous pillows, his cool lips scorching a path down the column of his throat. Louis had been aflame with desire, desperate to be embraced and unmade in some permanent, life-altering way. He had longed for the sweet release of oblivion in any form it could come—even death, in his darkest moments.

With a strange sense of detachment, Louis wondered at the irony with which God had seen fit to answer his prayers, somehow granting him nothing and everything of what he had once so dearly desired. 

No, not God, Louis reminded himself suddenly as Lestat closed the door behind them and crossed the room to pull the shutters closed tight over the windows. I have a new maker now.

They dressed quickly for bed, Louis in a set of burgundy satin pajamas borrowed from Lestat’s own wardrobe. He was momentarily distracted by the silky feel of the fabric against his skin, and so when he looked up to find his devil of a lover kneeling beside the bed as if in preparation for prayer, he nearly choked on a laugh.

Lestat was not praying, however. Louis watched as he pulled a large wooden box from under the bed.

No, not a box, Louis realized as he took in its distinctive, tapered shape. A coffin.

“What the hell is a coffin doing under your bed?” Louis wondered aloud, his voice raised in alarmed confusion. Had it always been there? 

“Where else would a vampire sleep that is safe from the sun?” Lestat asked, as if the conclusion was obvious.

Fear rose up within Louis at the grim sight it made, but the feeling was hollow somehow too, without the teeth it once had when he had been a living man. Lestat continued, unbothered.

“We’ll have to steal another one when we wake tomorrow evening so you can have one to yourself,” Lestat said, lifting the coffin’s lid to reveal the lush, satin interior, “but we’ll manage well enough in here for now, I think.”

“You want both of us to sleep in there?” Louis asked, as the absurdity of Lestat’s words hit him. It had been built for only one occupant, after all, and in life Louis had never been fond of tight spaces. “You cannot be serious. We’ll suffocate, if the lid will even close on us.”

Lestat smiled up at him from the floor, his pale lips stretching wide over his teeth.

“Mortal fears are for mortal men, my dear Louis,” he answered, his tone somehow managing affection and condescension at the same time. “You would do well to remember that, now that you no longer are one.”

They were hardly words of comfort, and when Louis’ anxiety did not appear assuaged, Lestat stood up and reached for his hand. 

“You will be perfectly safe in there with me,” he assured him, quite serious, until another shark-like grin overtook his face. “I even promise not to bite. Unless you ask, of course.”

The corner of Louis’ mouth lifted in spite of himself, and something restless in his chest calmed at Lestat’s touch even in the face of his ridiculous teasing. How confusing his feelings for this man could be.

Lestat released his hand and climbed inside the coffin, lying down flat on his back with his head resting on a satin pillow. Louis stared at him a moment, trying to figure out how best to configure their bodies in such a tight space, until Lestat found the end of his patience.

“Sometime tonight, please, Louis,” he huffed from inside the coffin, his left arm raised in invitation. “Unless you’d like us both to burn.”

Louis took the hint. There was a narrow space to Lestat’s left, so he lowered himself down into the coffin and settled there, half on top of Lestat’s chest, with their legs tangled close together. Once Louis’ head was resting comfortably on Lestat’s shoulder, he finally pulled the lid of the coffin closed.

As the light faded into darkness, Louis expected the sense of unease he had felt just looking at the coffin to grow, but it did not. In fact, his mind was not at all troubled by the darkness nor the satin-lined wood caging him in mere inches from his body. 

Instead, like a moth to a flame, he found his attention once more drawn to Lestat. His awareness narrowed to all the points they were touching; the warmth of Lestat’s body beneath him, the soft wiry hair tickling his palm where it peeked out from the neckline of his white tank top, the gentle stroke of his fingers against Louis’ lower back as they worked their way under the hem of his shirt. Such wonderful sensations they were, and Louis could feel himself beginning to get lost in them until Lestat’s voice cut through the dark.

“Not so bad now, hm?” he said, low and sensual as ever as he covered the hand Louis had placed on his chest with his own. 

“No,” Louis admitted, spreading his fingertips so Lestat could thread their fingers together as he so often loved to do. 

It wasn’t bad at all, actually, being held by Lestat, feeling the tenderness of his touch in the dark, but Louis couldn’t tell him that—Lestat’s ego was big enough already and this new sleeping arrangement of theirs would truly become intolerable if he allowed him to become any more smug over having been right.

Instead, he gave in to the urge to press a kiss to Lestat’s neck. He could smell Lestat’s blood flowing through his veins, and the longer his lips lingered there, the more he could feel his pulse begin to quicken. The terrible rhythm of his heart called to something deep inside Louis, but the base impulse that had driven him to bite Lestat earlier had shifted, taking on a new yet familiar shape now that his thirst for blood was quenched. 

Indeed, it was a different sort of impulse, though no less base, that drove him now to let his lips part so he could taste the salt of his skin as he kissed him there again. Lestat’s throat rumbled under his mouth as he chuckled.

“Insatiable,” Lestat murmured, sounding inordinately pleased by the fact, even as he added, “You had better keep those fangs to yourself tonight, Louis. I don’t have much blood left to give you.”

“You liked it, though, didn’t you? When I bit you before?” Louis asked, his lips still brushing against his neck as he thought of how Lestat had felt in his arms for that brief moment. He wanted to do it again, to feel Lestat writhe in ecstasy against him as his blood filled his mouth. 

“Yes,” Lestat sighed, and at his admission, Louis couldn’t resist parting his lips to nip at his neck with blunt teeth this time, a mere imitation of what he had done to him earlier. 

Lestat groaned all the same, arching his neck up to Louis’ mouth. Desperate the hear that sound again, he bit down a little harder, just short of drawing blood, before he soothed the tender spot with his tongue. 

Lestat rewarded him for his effort with a French curse moaned low in his ear as his hips rocked upward against Louis’ thigh, seeking out whatever friction he could get on his rapidly hardening cock. The corner of Louis’ mouth turned up with quiet satisfaction—for once, he felt as if Lestat was at his mercy, and not the other way around.

“Why?” Louis asked, partly to draw this out a little longer and partly because he was curious. The gratification in the act of biting was obvious—he had experienced it himself—but to be bitten? It seemed contrary to what little Louis understood of his new condition.

“The sharing of blood,” Lestat began after a moment, sounding out of breath, his accent more pronounced, “is the highest form of intimacy for our kind.”

Our kind, Louis thought, his mind abuzz with questions. Were there others like them, then? He would have to ask Lestat about it later.

“Doesn’t it hurt?” Louis asked, recalling the agony of his own transformation just hours ago. 

“Exquisitely,” answered Lestat, and before Louis could ask him anything more, he pulled him into a bruising kiss.

Louis kissed him back with equal fervor, luxuriating once more in the feeling of Lestat’s lips moving insistently against his own. Had they always been so soft, so warm? Or were Louis’ colder now, more sensitive? Whatever the reason for it, Louis gave himself over to the sensation, content to be pulled in by the all-consuming tide of Lestat’s desire. 

Each kiss bled into the next, a series that felt as endless as the sands of time now that Louis had no real need to catch his breath. It wasn’t until he felt impatient fingers beginning to unbutton his shirt that he pulled away, looking down at Lestat through the dark.

“I thought dawn was approaching,” Louis teased as Lestat shoved the offending garment off his shoulders. “Are you sure we have time?”

“Shut up, Louis,” Lestat said without an ounce of heat, his nails dragging deliciously against his newly bare skin as he tried to touch Louis everywhere at once. “You started this.”

“Then let me finish it,” he replied and, with uncharacteristic boldness, reached down to pull at the drawstring of Lestat’s pajamas.

Lestat eagerly lifted his hips to help him push them down as far as he could get them. His cock sprang up against his belly, already hard and leaking when Louis wrapped his fingers around him.

Lestat let his head drop back onto the pillow as he moaned, expressive as ever, and Louis followed him down to flick his tongue into his open mouth as he began to stroke him, swiping his thumb through the fluid welling up at the tip and spreading it down the length of his shaft to ease the way. 

Every movement of his hand elicited some reaction from Lestat—a hitch in his breath, a soft curse, the bite of his fingernails along Louis’ back or shoulders—and when he moaned again the sound of it traveled through his throat to Louis’ mouth as he sucked a fleeting bruise onto his skin. 

It frightened Louis as much as it exhilarated him, how Lestat came alive under his touch, how it set his own heart on fire to be with him in such an intimate way. For so long, Louis had run from his desire for other men, had carried the shame of it with him every day. He lived in fear that God would one day strike him down for the thoughts in his head, but here, in the quiet dark, with Lestat gasping his name against his cheek and pushing his borrowed pajamas roughly off his hips, it was easy to forget that this was a sin.

Bare below the waist now, Louis rolled his hips forward to grind himself against the hard plane of Lestat’s belly where his shirt had ridden up, his cock aching for attention. Lestat licked his palm before he reached down to take him in hand and Louis moaned sharply against his neck at the relief his touch brought. 

With the coffin still closed, they had barely any room to move at all, but it was enough for Louis to rock his hips back and forth, to drag his cock through the tight channel of Lestat’s fist. They moved in tandem, giving and taking their pleasure in turn, and Louis burned with every twist of Lestat’s wrist, with every feverish kiss he pressed to his mouth. His heart was pounding against his ribs, blood rushing in his ears, nearly but not quite loud enough to drown out all the perfect little sounds Lestat kept making in the back of his throat.

Lestat stiffened beneath him suddenly, his cock twitching hard in Louis’ grip as he came with a loud, desperate moan. He hardly gave himself a moment to bask in it before he let go of Louis’ cock, just long enough to swipe his fingers through his own release and grab hold of him again. 

It was a heady assault on his senses—the wet glide of Lestat’s fist over his cock, the scent of blood and sweat and sex surrounding them both. Louis was coming before he knew it, pleasure twisting hot in his gut as he spilled over Lestat’s fist, adding to the mess. Lestat worked him through it, milking him for all he was worth until Louis hid his face in his neck and grabbed his wrist to stop him, whimpering from overstimulation.

In the wake of such a powerful orgasm, Louis was exhausted, his limbs heavy and warm, but Lestat only let him rest for a moment before he was pushing on the lid of their coffin and urging Louis to sit up. 

The air was cool on his bare skin as he leaned back on his knees, the waistband of his pajamas still pulled taut around his thighs. The first thing he noticed was that the room was a little brighter than it was when they’d first entered it, the faintest light of the early dawn beginning to bleed through the edges of the shutters. 

The second was that Lestat looked thoroughly debauched beneath him, his belly a sticky red-tinged mess of come and sweat. He was so beautiful it stunned him for a moment, and the self-satisfied smile Lestat gave him when he caught him staring again made his stomach swoop. 

Louis continued to watch Lestat as he stripped off his ruined tank top and used it to clean them both up—first himself, of course, and then Louis—before dropping it over the side of the coffin to be dealt with later. They would both need a bath when they awoke, but for now Louis was content to kick his satin pajamas off the rest of the way and let Lestat pull him back down on top of him.

Lestat wrapped his arms around Louis once more when the coffin’s lid fell back into place, drawing idle patterns with his fingertips across his shoulder, then the ridge of his spine, and the dip of his lower back. 

As Louis gave in to his exhaustion and let his eyes drift close, he felt the curve of Lestat’s smile against his forehead as he kissed him one last time.

“Bonne nuit, mon amour,” Lestat whispered, his breath a gentle caress against his skin. “When you wake, New Orleans will be ours for the taking.”

Though he gave no indication that he had heard Lestat, Louis’ heart sank with guilt at the insinuation behind his words. 

He lay awake another moment more, and as the paralysis of sleep finally claimed him, he sent a prayer for God’s forgiveness for all of the horrors tomorrow was sure to bring.

[chasingpj]

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐤

pairing: percy jackson x child of aphrodite! gn reader

requested?: yup!

warnings: mentions of underage drinking, one curse word, and mentions of sexual tension

category: fluff, shy boy x obviously interested girl trope

a/n: don't mind me I'm just projecting and I got carried away

you’re not sure what gravitated you to percy more

the crystal green eyes, the freckles over his nose, the disheveled dark curls, or his clumsiness

the first time you laid eyes on him, he was walking back to his cabin after sword-fighting practice

his tan skin gleamed in the sunlight as a hand came up to swipe away the damp hair sticking on his forehead

for an action so mundane, it made your stomach flutter like crazy

and then the beauty of the moment was ruined right when he trips over the steps of his cabin

you heard stories of the kid killing the minotaur, blowing up a volcano, and rumors of being the suspected child of a huge prophecy

yet, he was not immune from tripping over his feet

and you’re sure the dorky charm of that moment made you think, he’s mine

for the next few days, you were determined to approach him

but you didn’t just want to come up to him and introduce yourself; that would be too plain and forgettable

you ended up finding your opportunity during a capture the flag game

silena gave you instructions to distract percy, and you headed over strong, ready to make your first impression while also taking him down for your team

sure, he had water powers and done a bunch of cool things, but your father made sure you were well trained in sword fighting and martial arts even before you knew about the camp

you planned to take him by surprise, and luckily it worked

with ruthless attacks, it didn’t take long for you to sweep him off his feet and knock his sword out of his hand

by pressing the flat of your sword under his chin, you forced him to look up at you, and you peered into those clear green eyes

gods, he’s cute, you thought

“hey,” you said

percy was stunned, not sure if it was because you effortlessly took him down or if it was because you were one of the prettiest girls he’s ever seen

“... hi,” he sputtered, gawking for a moment as you offered your hand

you swore you felt sparks when his fingers brush across your palm... even though the contact was a little sweaty

in the distance, you heard the satyrs blow the horn and the roars of celebration from your team

“i should go back to the others. catch you later, ocean eyes,” you flirted

percy’s shoulders tensed up when you blew him a kiss; awkwardly frozen in his place as you waited

“well, are you going to catch it? you can’t just let my kiss fly away.”

percy shifted on his feet, not sure if you were serious or not, but when you held your ground with arms folded over your chest, it was clear that’s what you were waiting for

and so with a flushed face, percy awkwardly grabbed the air in the front of him, and you couldn’t help but giggle

“good, i wouldn’t want it flying to a stranger,” you commented playfully. “you know, i don’t really like this whole outdoor camp life thing, but seeing your pretty face around here makes it a lot better”

“uh… oh, thanks?” he stammered, not having the words to respond

you winked at him before walking off, more than satisfied with your first impression

after that, you were contemplating your next move

children of aphrodite can see all the possibilities in a potential relationship

you were able to see you and percy eating ice cream in central park, holding hands at camp, a shy kiss on your first date

you wanted all of it, and you going to make sure you get it

of course, silena and your siblings were your wing women

if percy was in the strawberry fields, you were picking strawberries beside him

in the fields, you got to know him and his sarcastic humor, which made your crush flourish

you even took sword fighting classes at the same time as him and made sure he was your partner most of the time

whenever you had a chance, you’d affectionately fix his hair or his armor just to hear his shy thank you’s

he’s never had a girl show this much interest in him, so you definitely made him a little nervous, but despite that, he opened up to you pretty quick

sometimes he’d help you out in the stables, and you noticed how he’d fumble with the harnesses or knock things over when you would flirt with him

you loved his reactions so much that you always took it up a notch just to see how he’d react

you suppose the pegasi didn’t make percy’s shyness any better

there were times where he’d shush them, or the tips of his ears would grow even more flushed at a neigh or huff from one of the pegasuses

as the summer came to an end, you gave percy your email and made sure you stayed in touch

you didn’t live very far from one another, but you didn’t dare ask to hangout

you wanted to be asked first!

and you were disappointed when the invitation never came despite the two of you being consistent with sending emails

the year flew by fast, though, and you were excited to return to camp for an array of reasons; percy being one of those reasons, of course

when you saw him for the first time that summer, you were in awe at how different he looked after a year

he was taller, broader, and just more handsome overall

your stomach went into a frenzy when he greeted you with a boyish smile while his hand rubbed the back of his neck nervously because he didn’t fail to notice how, somehow, you were even prettier than he remembered

unfortunately, having the prepare for the war meant you guys were too busy to hang out as often as you did the previous summer

but when you did have time to see each other, it was still fun

there was an unspoken rule between you and percy that any talk about the war wasn’t allowed

it allowed you guys to just bask in the nights where you would watch the sunset while joking around and sharing funny stories

those nights were calm and still; they brought a sense of normalcy amongst the chaos and growing tensions

because of this, percy had sought out your company whenever he could get it

being with you made him feel like time slowed down

inevitably, the battle of manhattan occurred and passed, causing the summer to end with the grief of losing your siblings

while campers arranged the ceremonies to honor their siblings, percy hopped around to help

losing silena as a counselor meant it was time to pick a new one, and to your surprise, your siblings nominated you

you were silena’s right-hand person, the oldest in the group after her, and the strongest fighter, so your siblings felt it was fair that you took the role

but it didn’t feel right to you; the pressure of being a newly elected councilor while still grieving silena weighed hard on your shoulders

after the nomination, you needed time to get away and sit with your thoughts, and you were only there for a moment alone until percy had found you

his eyes studied your somber expression, and he was quick to ask what was wrong

as you poured out all your worries, percy was quiet and attentive

you cuddled up to his side for comfort, and even in your sorrow, you didn’t fail to notice the way he tensed up

finally, when you let everything out, he chimed in to soothe your worries

your expression was a little lovestruck as he said everything you needed to hear, and well, his strong arm around your shoulders definitely helped too

you were so elated that you couldn't help but press a kiss on his cheek to thank him

his flushed face was enough to lift your spirits for good that day

by the time the summer officially came to an end, you could feel that percy’s feelings for you were becoming stronger

the romantic possibilities you envisioned became more apparent, but percy hadn’t asked you out yet

and like, you guessed you could have asked him out, but that wasn't fair in your book

you were already making the first moves; it was his turn to do something about it

then you were sure your mother pitied you because finally, after a few more months of emailing, percy asked if you to go ice skating with him, and of course, you agreed

but then, you concluded that it was more like a cruel joke from your mom because percy never showed up

you waited hours for him before you trudged home in defeat

heartbroken wasn’t even enough to describe how you were feeling

being stood up with no follow up from him made you conclude that he just wasn’t interested and you just needed to move on

it wasn’t until you went to CHB for christmas break did you find out percy was missing

you were crazy worried about him and helped as much as you could to try and find him

when it was confirmed that he was still alive, you were more than relieved

from that day on, you were itching to see him again, and finally, after the giant war, you were able to speak to him

you only said a hello before you got sucked into a game of truth or dare with your friends

the game was self-explanatory; spin the bottle and the person who’s chosen is submissive to the person who spun it

you made up some lousy dares for the first few people until you spun the bottle in percy’s direction

“truth or dare?” your voice was challenging, and a little flirty

percy shifts in his place, “truth.”

“do you want to kiss me?”

“dare.”

“kiss me.”

the instigating coos of your friends made you smile, which contrasted percy’s stunned expression

“never have i ever-”

“that’s not even the game, percy!”

your friends laughed at your interaction, but you were honestly a little annoyed

he liked you; you could feel it, so what was he even waiting for?

“it’s fine. you don’t have to kiss me if you don’t want to,” you say with a playful smile in an attempt to hide your disappointment

“shit, i’d kiss you,” leo joked, and you suddenly perked up at the request

a new idea came to your mind

“so kiss me,” you snapped your gaze to leo, a smirk on your face

leo gasped so hard; he choked on his own saliva

while he coughed erratically, showcasing all his shock on his face, you announced, “new rule! you can only give up a dare if someone else in the group offers to take it for you.”

your gaze fixed on leo, “so, are you going to kiss me or what?”

“uh, only if you want to,” he stammered, and you smiled, moving to lean over in his direction

suddenly, percy cut in, “i didn’t give up the dare.”

your attention shifted to him, and you didn’t fail to pick up the jealousy radiating off of him

your stomach flipped with anticipation at the success of your idea

if percy needed a push, you were going to push him

“you’ve given leo false hope then,” you joked, and playfully leo sighed.

“man, so close,” he mumbled.

you bit your lip as you leaned in percy’s direction

you felt his attraction to you; his eyes told you everything you needed to know and more

and before you knew it, your lips were against his

the kiss was short, but for a moment, the world around you was drowned out; you barely heard the coos and cheers of your friends around you

with a satisfied smirk, you pulled away, settling back in your spot as percy’s eyes averted elsewhere, too shy to look at you

you and your friends played the game until you grew bored and found something else to do

because the festivities kept pulling you in one direction to another, the only interaction you had with percy was the occasional longing glance and nothing else

as you escorted a few of your sisters who drank a little too much back to your cabin, you were sure you’d have to wait another day to talk to him

lost in your dismay, you automatically denied piper’s offer to finish the task

it wasn’t until she scoffed did you pull out of your thoughts

“are you kidding? go. i’ll get them back. you find percy.”

“oh yeah. you guys need to do something about that sexual tension. are you gonna date him or what?” another one of your sisters slurred

before you could even protest, you were shooed away by not only piper but by the rest of your siblings too

you stayed in your spot, making sure they had at least made it to the steps of the cabin before you pranced up to percy’s cabin

you figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask if he wanted to go on a walk with you

your knock is followed by a few moments of shuffling before he opened the door

and, whew, you were pleasantly surprised to be greeted by a shirtless percy

“hey." you leaned on the door frame, your eyes trailing down to admire his toned torso

“eyes up here," percy playfully demanded

you were almost hesitant to avert your eyes, but you obliged.

"i wanted to ask if you wanted to take a walk. you know, i just haven’t been sleeping well."

percy leaned against the door frame, amused at the dramatic pout on your face.

“sure, let me put on a shirt firs-”

“oh, you don’t have to. i don’t mind,” you cut him off, and his head tilts back just a little as he laughs

“i’m putting on a shirt,” he declares playfully, and you whine in fake disappointment

on your walk, he told you all the crazy things that happened while he was missing, and even though his stories were a lot more interesting than what you had to say, he was eager to hear about what you've been up to

your conversation persisted as you walked around the camp and as you arrived at the docks, another idea came to mind

suddenly, you cut yourself off mid-sentence, your gaze fixed on the water

“perce, you know, i can’t swim,” you mention, stepping on the wooden dock

“really?”

“really.”

it was quiet for a moment, and percy's expression was laced with confusion as you kicked off your shoes

you didn’t even care that you were wearing designer clothes, running straight off the dock and into the deep lake water

you heard percy yell your name right as your body completely submerges in the water

and it wasn't even more than 3 seconds before percy jumped in, one arm immediately wrapping around your waist to swim up to the surface with you

his baffled expression sent you into a fit of laughter

“what? why did you do that?!”

“cause i knew you’d come and get me.”

percy’s lips curved up into a smile, and you took the time to admire his features in the moonlight

you swore you saw his eyes flicker to your lips for a second, and the action made you hyper-aware of how close your noses were

"kiss me!" you thought in your head as you circled your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer

you could feel his admiration, the accelerated thump of his heart, the fluttering in his stomach that mimicked yours

the kiss you shared earlier was far too short for your liking, and you were already looking forward to the next opportunity to kiss him again

“i haven’t forgotten that i owe you a date.”

you smiled at his words, half-distracted at the proximity of his lips

“so it was a date all along?” you asked, and percy nods, amused

“you know, i was thinking now that there isn’t another big prophecy and the chances of me disappearing again aren’t likely, that, maybe, you and i could-”

“yes! gods, yes.” you cut him off, and percy laughs at your eagerness

you waited too long for the question that you couldn’t even let him finish asking

he isn’t able to say anything else as you pull him into a passionate kiss

it was as if the years of anticipation were being poured into the movement of your mouths

the kiss was long, growing in eagerness until the harpies had ruined your fun and the two of you had to run back to your cabins

a part of you had wished that all of this would have happened sooner

you had plenty of nights where you were stared at the ceiling with conflicted thoughts, wondering if you guys just weren't meant to be, if you somehow made up his attraction to you in your head, or if you should ask him out first and save yourself the potential regret

but when you returned to your cabin full of enthusiastic siblings asking why you were soaking wet and why your lipstick was smudged, you realized you wouldn’t have changed a single thing

masterlists taglist:@xxyrr @nct127bee @mochabreezeee @minamisulemisa @yanfeisluvr @Slytherclaw-kitten @-thatgirloverthere- @passionswift @nanskidoodle @s0urcru5h @ilikefluffygingercats @all-hailreyna @autmngirlworld @sunkissedskin1328 @Hermioneswifeee @quteez @hajigayy @aleksanderwh0r3 @drayshadow @tonyedwardstarkk @londoncherry @ashookykooky @lotusnegra666 @loverstyless @yelenabel0vaswife @t0xicmuse @ohmydamgods @jordannfields @tomriddles-wh0re @amy-writes-blog @muted-mayham @shawkneecaps @dreamerball @earthtokace @thehighladyofday @theverydramaticcabbage @lala-llama123 @tootsdoll @slytherindaughterofposeidon0 @black-rose-29 @somekidnamedkai @possiblylostchasecousin @silver-gemini @hamdehlesmis @shadowsndaisies @cami05sworld @does-anyone-hear-me @scarlets-widow @sol-the-salmon @hipsdofangirl @tatofan @missusstark @atryx0-tal @iamparou

if your username is bolded that means i can’t tag you ! you probably have your visibility settings on !

[finelinevogue]

um the one shot based off of champagne problems was bloody amazing !!! please do a part 2 😩

the amount of requests i got for a part two was scarily high, so here it is;

Harry woke up from another nightmare.

His skin sweating and his hair messy, he had to double check his room and make sure he was safe. He’s bolted up so fast in bed that he was worried he’d knock himself unconscious. When he did a survey of his surroundings and laid back down onto his bed, he cried.

He cried and cried and cried.

Harry let his eyes close and recall that same evening he was having nightmares over.

I couldn’t feel anything.

I was numb to the touch. I felt nauseous. Light-headed. I needed someone to pinch me that this was actually happening, but I was worried I wouldn’t feel anything at all because I knew it was happening. It had happened.

Y/N had left. She’d gone. No, is what she’d said.

The whole in my heart from where Y/N had filled made me feel completely empty and useless. I wouldn’t find a purpose now. I always thought it was going to be Y/M, I was so sure. I thought she’d been sure. Yet, i’d ruined it and now she was gone and all that was left of her was the dark void in my burnt out chest.

My hands shook as I reached into my jacket pocket to pull out the ring box. It’s black velvet coating was dusty, because it was the my grandfathers. It was supposed to mean something, because she meant everything. Yet, she left me. She said no. The one most important person in my life and she’d left me. And fuck did I need her so bad. She was my fucking other half and my soulmate but she’d gone. She said no.

I threw the box into the wall, watching the ring bounce out and onto the floor. I screamed. I let my pain release itself upon me. I wanted to feel something to help me release i’m not as numb as I thought. I crashed onto the floor, knees banging hard on the wooden floorboards. I cried. Eyes stinging and mouth screaming my heartbreaking cries. I was in so much pain and yet had never felt so empty.

I noticed my mum and Gemma run up the stairs first. Mum dropped down next to me whilst Gemma collected the ring and the box, piecing it back together like it wasn’t broken - like it could just be fixed. No. This was unfixable. I was broken.

“Harry breathe hun.” Mum spoke softly and repeated over and over again. I wasn’t short of breathe, I was just extremely numb. Empty. So much pain though. I appreciated that she wasn’t telling me it was okay, but we both knew that was far from the truth. My person, my favourite person, had left me just like that. So quickly.

5 minutes. That’s all it had taken.

A couple of other guests came rushing upstairs, desperate to see a broken man. They were most likely curious as to what had happened to the surprise, but there was none. No surprise, because there was no engagement. It was over and I was done. Finished. Why bother trying to love any more when all it ends is in heartbreak? It must be me. I just must be unlovable.

My hands shook and my cries continued, but it was a friend’s voice that brought me out of my trance.

“She would’ve made such a lovely bride, what a shame shes fucked in the head.”

I saw red.

How dare they speak about her that way. How far they treat get that way. Y/N may have left me but my heart still fucking beat for her. It bled for her. I was burning for her. I needed her, fuck I needed her.

I got up and ran down the stairs, ignoring everybody. I picked up a bottle of champagne and ran out of the front door. I popped the cork, sending it flying and I walked. I walked and walked and walked. I drank and walked.

The bottle was half empty when I made it onto her driveway.

I didn’t even realise I was here until I was here. I put the bottle down on the floor and straightened my tie, making sure I looked presentable for when I got my already broken heart broken even more. I was ready this time. But I fucking wasn’t. I couldn’t even raise my hand to the doorbell, crying before even lifting it. I cried for me. I cried my shitty heart. I cried because I love Y/N so much. She is my everything.

“H-Harry?” Her voice shot through my body and sent tingles running all up my spine.

I spun around to see her standing half-way down her driveway and eyes so heavy from crying. Her eyes were as bloodshot red as her dress. She looked perfect. Absolutely stunning. Even looking so broken and so…sad, she turned my world on it’s axis and kept me spinning. Looking at her I knew she was my home. My comfort. My person. It was just so hard to understand how 5 minutes could’ve made her feel anything but that for me.

“Y/N.” I tried to say her name firmly, but my voice cracked at the sight of her so broken. At the sight of us so broken.

“Harry w-what are you doing here?” She stuttered, wiping some of her mascara away so she didn’t look so tired and upset.

“5 minutes.” I whispered.

“Sorry wh—”

“I’m just trying to understand how everything fell apart in 5 minutes.”

“It didn’t.” She answered back, making my eyes flicker from the stone cold ground to her breathtakingly beautiful face. She was actually an angel if ever I saw one. The moon shone upon her like it had chosen her specifically to love on. I was jealous. Even the moon could touch what I couldn’t.

“What?” I asked confused.

“Forget it, Harry. We— I can’t do this.”

“Do what?” I begged for answers, moving closer to her and feeling somewhat happy when she didn’t move away from me. It made me relieved that she wasn’t entirely neglectful of me.

“Us, Harry. I can’t— It’s—” And then she started crying really harsh tears. She cupped her delicate hand over her eyes so I couldn’t see those beauties anymore. My heart broken at the sight of my sad girl. I hated it so much. I should be angry, furious, cross, upset. Yet, all I felt was sorrow and hurt for my girl. My Y/N. I moved towards her and hesitated before wrapping my arms around her, enclosing her in the tightest bear hug I could manage. I wanted her to feel loved, at least for a moment.

“Please talk to me, Y/N. I’m begging.” I cried as I rested my head on top of hers. I wanted her to know I was really hurting - that I was just as broken as her.

“I’m so sorry. So sorry Harry.” She just cried and cried, making me cry and cry. Her arms didn’t wrap around me and that stung a little, but I got to hold her so that was enough for me.

“You’re okay. You’re going to be okay.” I reassured her, trying to be brave for the both of us.

“I d-don’t deserve to be.” She whimpered and it cracked my heart even more. I was going to need so many fucking plasters for this breakup. And wine. And cigarettes.

“Don’t say that. It’s not true. You just fell out of love with me and—”

She pushed away from me with a strong push, freezing me and making me widen my eyes at both her outburst and strength. “I didn’t!” She shouted, surely the neighbours were hearing this from inside their homes. I didn’t care though. I was focused on her and her alone.

“But...”

“I-I didn’t.” She cried and cried. “I love you. So much Harry. But…”

My heart didn’t know what to do now. Did it hurt for before? Did it hurt for the future? Or should it burn for the emotional tug of war my heart strings were playing?

“But what, baby? Huh? Because I fucking love you so much. Isn’t that enough?” I shouted, trying to get through to her. I needed her. Wanted her. I loved her.

“It is.” She bravely smiled before continuing. “It’s just i’m not enough.” She wobbled her lips about to start crying again but I didn’t let her. I caught up to her and held her cheeks in my palms. Her words hurt even more than a simple no.

“Never say that to me again. Ever. You hear me?” She nodded her head as her eyes clouded over again and mine followed suit. “I love you, Y/N L/N. If you never want to become my wife, that is okay. I am okay with that. I would love to see you walk down an aisle, but not at the cost of this. I’m not loosing you. I won’t. I- I can’t, okay? A world without you… Shit.” I had to stop and breathe to catch my breathe, Y/N still looking at me with starry eyes. “A world without you isn’t with living properly.”

“Harrry…”

“No Y/N. I mean it. Please. I love you. You love me. Why can’t that be enough for us?”

“It is. I-I want it to be.” Y/N stuttered.

“Then what is it?” I asked urgently, not understanding why this was all happening. And now. “What happened in those 5 minutes Y/N?”

“Harry!”

Harry was brought out of his daze, or more of a nightmare, bu shaking hands on his shoulders. His face was wet with tears and his body sweaty. He was okay, though. He tried to push the nightmare away. Far away. It didn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter, because you were currently straddling his waist looking at him with sorry eyes as you woke him from the nightmare.

You were here.

“Baby…” He whispered, raising an arm to cup your cheek and you leaned into his softly. You gave it a kiss and he welcomed it with all his heart.

“Another nightmare?” You asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah.” He sadly answered and you nodded sadly.

“I’m so sorry.” You spoke quietly, guilt laced rich onto your voice.

“No. Don’t do that. Stop.” Harry ordered, sitting up so that his body pressed against yours. He was so close you could taste the minty toothpaste he used before bed last night.

“It’s just.. Every nightmare you have, I can’t help but feel so guilty.” You frowned, looking to see his head shake at your words.

“Listen to me,” Harry stroked a hand over your hair and left it cupped at the back of your neck for support. “That night, sure, didn’t go as planned. I got hurt, but so did you. It wasn’t just me who had to leave because the heartache was too bad, it was you also. Sure, you were the one to say no, but I was the one who didn’t notice how sad you were. We both made mistakes that night and I won’t let you go another single fucking day thinking that your mistakes were worse than mine. We both hurt that night. We hurt each other. I just don’t ever want to lose you again. That’s why I have the nightmares, because I can’t see you leave me again, angel.”

With teary eyes you looked at him with so much awe. He had fixed your broken heart and you, his. “I love you.” And you meant it.

“I love you.” And he meant it.

He slowly picked up your hand resting it on his cheek for comfort. He loved the feeling of your soft and delicate skin there. You looked into his eyes and knew that he meant every word he’d spoken in the last 5 minutes. He loved you and forever would. The kiss he left to the ring on your finger proved just exactly that.

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

Soulmate September

Series Summary- a collection of one shots exploring different ships and au concepts. The list I created and am following can be found here.

Day One: Sparks Fly

Summary: Virgil goes deeper into the forest than he’s ventured before in the hopes of gathering more food. He finds more than he bargained for when a fairy claiming to be the prince of the forest begins to follow him.

Warnings: food mention. If there’s more please let me know!

Ships: Prinxiety (Virgil x Roman)

Prompt: Feel a spark when you touch your soulmate

WC: 3959

AO3

Tugging his long, dark cloak impatiently away from a jagged branch, Virgil skid down the steep embankment swearing the entire way. He didn’t often venture this far into the woods but he was getting just desperate enough to find gatherable ingredients he had decided to risk it. Honestly as long as he kept his eyes straight ahead and avoided the beckoning twinkles of light between the trees he should be fine. Thankfully this time of year the river was reduced to a large creek at best, making crossing to the other side where he was certain to find berries and mushrooms aplenty quite easy. It was only a matter of keeping his balance on the slimy rocks that normally made up the river bed, a skill he had mastered before he had even been entrusted as a gatherer.

Hiking his pants up to just below his knees he carefully adjusted his pack to be more balanced and draped the bottom of his cloak over his arm for good measure. The last thing he needed was to be scolded for dripping mud all over the floors again when he returned to the kitchens. Absentmindedly rubbing the stinging memory from the back of his head he hopped to the first rock, breath hissing between his teeth as the cold water rushed over his heated skin. With another breath he was perched on the second rock and then the third, toes gripping the moss in a mostly unneeded measure for stability. Wiggling a bit so his pack would recenter he eyed his next target, muscles tensing in preparation for the bigger leap.

“What are you doing?”

Squawking in alarm, Virgil tipped back dangerously, arms pinwheeling as his feet lost their purchase and let him fall backwards into the creek. Taking a brief moment to thank the gods he hadn’t landed on a rock he sat up quickly, sputtering as water ran down his face and soaked his shirt more than it already was. His cloak dragged behind him as he tried to get up, aiding only in him slipping back again with an unceremonial splash.

“Oh my dear I didn’t mean to frighten you!” There was more mirth than malice in the voice but that didn’t stop Virgil from flinching away from the strange hand that reached towards him. It retreated as he shoved sopping hair from his eyes and squinted against the sun to try and see what idiot made it a habit to scare people when they were jumping on wet stones. His breath caught when a face finally came into focus, sunlight forming a halo around the most beautiful person Virgil had ever seen.

His brightness was almost blinding, with shining red curls looking like spun gold in the light. Sharp features complemented kind brown eyes and tanned skin flecked with earth. Like Virgil he was barefoot, but instead of wearing sturdy pants and shirt to protect himself from the woods, autumn-red pants flowed just below his knees with an equally flowy white shirt tucked into them and unbuttoned to the chest. Despite the darkness of his skin he seemed to radiate his own gentle light that somehow made the sun look dull by comparison, making Virgil idly wonder if this was what seeing a god was like.

“Prince actually, but you do know how to inflate the ego.” The man chuckled.

Face burning with the realization that he had not only said that outloud but he had also been sitting in the water gaping like a stunned fish for entirely too long. Mumbling low curses under his breath he once again struggled to his feet while waving away the other’s outstretched hand impatiently. A fairy prince coming to pester someone with zero assets or connections- the fae were worse pranksters than they had the reputation for. Sighing, he decided to wade the rest of the way through the creek since he was already soaked, leaving the stranger behind in hopes he would stay there.

“So you never did answer.” No such luck apparently. “You do realize what part of the forest you’re in right?”

Virgil gritted his teeth. “I don’t wish to consort with your kind fae. I’ll only be in here for a little while.”

“My kind?” Virgil winced as he detected insult in his tone. “My kind are the reason your kind feel safe enough to traipse wherever you please regardless of obvious territorial lines!”

Virgil glanced at him quickly as he began scrambling up the incline of the bank. “Territorial lines?”

The man drew himself up proudly, keeping pace with Virgil as he effortlessly stepped his way up the embankment rather than crawling. “This part of the forest is mine, a long way from the edge of the river by your route. I could turn you into dandelion fluff for trespassing here.”

Virgil raised an unimpressed brow as he searched around for his next handhold. “Mhm, I’m sure you could.”

Smirking as the other man stomped his foot impatiently he made it up and over to the other side, slinging his pack around to see how damaged the things he had already gathered were from his earlier fall. Shoulders sinking as he surveyed the smashed contents he shot a glare at the stranger, who was currently standing on tiptoes with his arms crossed trying to see inside the bag.

“Humans used to grovel at our feet, what happened to that? Also is it custom to smash ingredients well before they’re cooked? I’m not caught up with the latest human affairs. Terribly dull, most of them.”

Gritting his teeth Virgil dumped the berries and mushrooms he had collected onto the forest floor, water that had seeped in from the top sloshing out as well and coming out like a weird, thick juice for all the mush everything had turned into. “They only smashed because I fell- something I never do unless someone decides it's a good idea to startle someone who’s trying to balance.”

The man looked unimpressed. “Why were you coming over this way anyway? There should be plenty of the things you were collecting on the other side of the river...and much closer to the nearest village too might I add.”

“Fall makes the pickings slimmer the closer to the village you are. Other people gather, animals eat what ‘s left, sparcer trees means more sun means things ripen and fall faster. I was trying my luck further in.”

“And you came alone?”

“None of your business.” Virgil hauled up the pack and stood. “I’m a tracker so I’m the one that usually gets sent out.”

“Oh really? Must be an expert to come out this late.”

“Sure.” Grunting, Virgil stepped over a rotting log and began pushing his way through bushes.

The man snorted. “Expert tracker- when I could hear you tromping through here from across the forest.” 

“Your words not mine. And stop following me, I’m only here to gather ingredients.”

They continued on in silence for a while, the fae following behind him near silently as he kept an eye out for anything edible. The crops had been plentiful this year but berries, nuts and mushrooms weren’t something locally grown, so gatherers routinely went into the forest to search for them to dry for the winter. Fast protein was always welcome in the harsher months when tracking fresh meat became a dangerous chore.

The forest was quiet here, nearly serene if it wasn’t for the fae still following him no matter how harsh a path he took- not that he was having much luck finding easier ones. He imagined he could easily get lost here if he wasn’t careful so he kept an eye on the direction of the shadows and any landmarks he spotted so he couldn’t get turned around. Fair folk were rarely hostile towards travelers as long as you met them on their level and stated your intentions clearly. Most of the time a certain level of sass while only answering them when they were curious served Virgil just fine. Of course, they didn’t normally follow him either but he remained unconcerned so long as the forest didn’t turn hostile. He didn’t think he’d succeeded in pissing the other off that much...hopefully.

It was some time later when Virgil found his cloak snared on a branch as he was struggling to get over a particularly high log. Crawling under it hadn’t been an option so now he was stuck straddling the thing awkwardly with the cloak snagging in one direction and his pants in the other. Blowing out a frustrated breath he startled as the fae appeared a foot from his face, brown eyes searching his green ones as he struggled not to fall backwards for a second time.

“What are you tracking anyway?”

“What?” 

“You’re a tracker, so what are you tracking?”

Virgil resumed trying to lift himself enough to get his other leg over without ripping his pants. “Nothing at the moment. Not that, again, it’s any of your business.”

The fae glanced at the dirt under his nails and hummed thoughtfully. “Mushrooms is it?”

Groaning, Virgil sat back down and instead reached behind him to try and tug his cloak free. “Partly.”

Trying and failing to get his cloak untangled he stumbled as his feet found solid ground after dangling for the better part of ten minutes, nearly overbalancing for the third time that day as the fabric went limp in his stranglehold. Looking up he saw the spot on the river bank he had climbed over not ten minutes before with a significantly lighter pack. Confused, he slung it around and peeked inside only to see it nearly overflowing with varieties of mushrooms he had never seen mixed with the more common ones he had found before. Opening his mouth to speak he quickly shut it as a light breeze carried faint laughter through the trees.

“Feel free to thank me later.” A faint voice called.

Looking down again, he carefully closed the pack and looked up at the sky. It was barely encroaching late afternoon...would anyone believe he had gathered these that quickly? Deciding to just say he had gotten turned around and found a good spot if anyone asked he started hiking his way back as slowly as he could. He’d have to find something to offer as thanks when he came back.

-----

“You’re back.”

Virgil shuffled around a low shrub between the trees awkwardly. “Mhm.”

“Do you need more mushrooms?” The fae crouched on a low branch, balancing on his tip toes as he watched Virgil struggle through the underbrush. 

“They asked me to come back- ow!” Stumbling away from the bush he knelt down to tear away some thorns sticking out of his pants. “Since I was so successful yesterday they asked me to come back to find more. Among other things.”

“They?”

“People from the kitchens.” He started off in a slightly different direction, seeing sunlight a little ways away and hoping for a clearing.

“What else do you need?”

“A variety of things to dry for the winter. Nothing to concern yourself with. I won’t invade your forest for too long.”

“A shame. My forest is beautiful but I’ve found I enjoy looking at you more.”

Virgil stopped in his tracks as he tried to process the comment. Was this a trick? Some weird fae flirting technique to get his guard down so he gave away his soul? Which reminded him-

“Not because of that comment, but for helping me the other day.” He dug around in his pocket and pulled out a smooth skipping stone, the surface a perfect, uniform pale gray. He knew fairies rarely had use for human materials but things like this could be enchanted or used for entertainment- the more pleasing to the eye the better. “Here. And...thank you.”

The man’s eyes lit up at the sight of the stone, taking it carefully and running his fingers gently over the smooth surface. “For me?”

“Don’t expect it again, I don’t expect anything more from you.” Hoping that would settle it, Virgil continued on in the direction of the clearing. Fae were always tricky to get involved with and with the fall harvests approaching, continuing to speak with one claiming to be a prince wasn’t something he would allow himself to get involved with- at most for the sake of the village and at the very least for his own sanity.

“A pity really.” The fae called from behind him. “I could help you find whatever you need.”

Gritting his teeth, Virgil resisted. “I don’t need any help.”

“Right, expert tracker and all that.” He startled as his pest of a companion appeared in front of him waving a hand dismissively. “This is my forest and I can bend it however it suits me at the moment. Right now it suits me to help you, why won’t you let me?”

“I don’t want to owe you anything. Owing things is a risky business- especially with fae. No offense.”

The fae sniffed indignantly, putting a hand  dramatically over his heart. “No offense indeed! I suppose this wound was here before you arrived, it’s fine really.”

Virgil glanced over as the other man draped a hand over his eyes and leaned back slightly, sighing loud and deliberate and trying to disguise the fact he was peeking at his human companion from under his arm. Virgil couldn’t help it- he barked out a laugh he managed to quickly catch with a hand slapped over his mouth. Watching as a wide grin took over the fae’s features he realized he was too late and the damage had been done. He stalked over and jabbed the air in front of Virgil with a perfectly manicured finger. 

“You like my company!”

Blinking, Virgil lowered his hand. “Absolutely not!”

“You do! You find me amusing! Dare I say charming!”

Snorting, Virgil readjusted his pack. “Uh-huh. Nothing like a raving lunatic spouting he’s royalty to get the giggle juice flowing.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“I believe fae will say anything to strike whatever emotion they want in a human. Whether it be fear or awe, the end goal is always to lead someone astray.”

Glancing over he startled when he saw the other man actually looked a bit hurt at his words, head down and eyes flicking to the side with a tight draw to the lips. A trick...obviously. But one that had him reconsidering his choice of words.

“Look I-”

The fae held up a hand. “It’s okay! I’ll prove it to you! You need mushrooms and berries and the like right?”

“Uh- yeah?” Virgil watched as the fae stepped forward and furrowed his brow in concentration. Bringing his arms up towards the clearing he swung his arms out and up before slouching tiredly. 

Virgil squinted against the sunlight shining overhead, looking around in wonder. They were in a large clearing absolutely teeming with enough plantlife to fill his pack ten times over. Dappled shade dominated at least half of the clearing as the sun shone through the bright trees at an angle. Soft grass soothed his aching feet that had previously been treading on nothing but snapping sticks and long-dead leaves. It was beautiful- and  glancing over at his companion as bright gold shot through his hair and the sudden calming warmth relaxed him- Virgil could tell he was in his element. 

“Did you just use magic in front of me?” He honestly hadn’t thought the fae would go that far to prove a point.

“Watch regular fair folk top that for ability.” the fae mumbled under his breath. Speaking up, he flashed a bright smile and punched a hand lightly onto his hip. “Of course! Got the point across didn’t it? Never seen a fairy bend a forest before?”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never seen a fairy perform any magic before. Usually they keep that to themselves. Honestly none of the good neighbors have paid me any mind before whether I was in their territory or not.”

“Oh.” The fae sputtered uselessly for a moment, fluttering his head to his hair to fidget with the curls. “Well, clearly that’s their loss. Berries, was it?”

Face burning, Virgil nodded mutely and made his way over to a far tree that looked like it promised chestnuts in the higher branches. He never figured having company, however forced upon him it was, would be so nice. 

Later, when Virgil’s pack was practically bursting at the seams, he reluctantly turned towards home. The afternoon had been wonderful, gathering enough to make the people in the village happy while listening to the other man as he sang almost like he didn’t realize he was doing it. Rich, low tones filled the clearing with a bright melody that Virgil didn't recognize but found himself humming along to- much to his companions utter delight. 

It had surprised him when he began singing popular festival songs after that, thinking that fair folk never bothered much with humans and therefore wouldn’t know many traditional tunes. But when Virgil had started softly singing along, offering a wry grin when the other man had started excitedly bouncing on his toes from having a singing partner he couldn’t bring himself to care. Eventually both of them had started getting louder and louder, swaying along to an invisible beat as they had continued collecting what was needed. Another reason Virgil was reluctant to return to the village for fear their noise had reached ears he’d rather not explain himself to. He found it strange that he felt drawn to stay, stranger still that he didn’t immediately think it was some trick on his companions' part. He just- enjoyed his company and wished he could come into the forest to actually visit rather than just his job. Pressing his lips together he turned around, smiling faintly and gesturing to his back.

“You really didn’t have to help, or keep helping. But thank you again-”

“Roman!” The fairy blurted at his slight pause.

Smirking, Virgil cocked his head to one side. “Aren’t I supposed to give you my name first?”

Roman shuffled slightly. “Yes well, seems a shame that if you were to think of me you’d have no name to give the thoughts.”

“Bold of you to assume I think of you after leaving the woods.”

“How could you not?” Striking a bold pose he sniffed indignantly. “It’d be an insult really, wounding me so deeply.”

Chuckling Virgil turned and started walking away. “I’ll be sure to bring bandages next time.”

“It’s a date, Doom and Gloom!”

“That a promise, Sir Sing-a-lot?”

“If my serenades are what brings you back I shall renounce my princehood and become a siren.”

“Your voice is certainly deadly enough, leads to something prettier though.” 

The forest was silent for a moment, before Virgil began walking as quickly as possible without stabbing his feet to the edge of the woods. Why had he said that? Did he mean that? Of course he meant it but why on the gods green earth had he said it? Could he even come back now? Chest tight with nervous anxiety and head swimming he didn't look back as he dashed out of the trees.

Though if he had he would have seen Roman standing stock still, face a mask of shock but slowly splitting into a flustered smile below rapidly reddening cheeks.

-----

When Virgil stepped into the creek the following day, it was without his pack. Early evening sunlight drifted through the trees as a slight breeze ruffled the cloak around his shoulders. Pushing his dark hair away from his eyes he surveyed the banks for any sign of Roman, deflating a bit when he saw none. It was stupid to think he could get away with saying something so forthright without reaping anything but negative consequences. It was just as well he supposed, consorting with fair folk never led to anything good after all. He had just- hoped this would be different.

Fair folk and humans rarely mixed well, platonic or not, and once he found his soulmate he was doubtful they would enjoy the thought of fraternizing so casually with one of the good neighbors- especially one as powerful as Roman appeared to be. If he knew anything of the fae it was that one didn't just casually bend an entire forest to their will with so little effort by themselves. Sighing, he turned to leave, feet missing the wispy grass of the clearing as they crunched through dead leaves.

“Going so soon?” Whirling around he was met with a charming smile, Roman balancing on a rock in the middle of the creek with a hip thrust out cockily.

“I thought- I didn’t think you’d come back around.”

“If you were trying to get me to leave, your methods are wanting my friend.” Roman squinted at him curiously. “No pack today?”

Virgil shuffled a bit before answering. “I- just wanted to see you.”

Blinking in surprise, Roman smiled warmly. “What an honor it is that our wants should align. Care to join me?”

Face burning, Virgil was quick to hop to the first rock, finding his balance easily. Keeping his head down he stepped from rock to slippery rock, finally getting close to where he assumed Roman would be. Looking up however, he didn’t expect to be quite as close as he had gotten, vision suddenly filled with deep brown eyes surrounded by flaming red curls. Yelping he tipped backwards, arms reaching forward in a desperate attempt to not repeat their first meeting even as he prepared to go home soaking once again.

To his surprise, the riverbed never rose to meet him, instead finding himself surrounded by the scent of wildflowers and moss in the most comforting embrace he’d ever been in. Virgil tilted his face up when he heard Roman gasp in wonder, his own eyes widening in disbelief as he leaned back to take in their surroundings. Colorful sparks seemed to catch the evening sunset as they bounced off and around them, falling like stars imbued with the colors of the sky and sizzling as they hit the water only to be immediately replaced by ten more. 

Leaning back but still catching each other’s arms they watched as the sparks continued to fly around them in a frenzied shower, dimming the already fading sun itself in their wake. Virgil watched as the light caught itself in Roman’s eyes, flecking the brown with golds and brilliant reds and deep purples. Seeing his face literally light up in amazement and wonder, Virgil couldn’t help but let out a low chuckle, then tilting his head back and laughing out loud.

“What- why are you laughing?” Receiving no answer, Roman grinned uncertainly. “Do I have something on my face?”

Shaking his head, Virgil stifled another bout of laughter to answer. “I’ve never seen the sparks of soulmates before. Are they supposed to be this dramatic or is it just because of you?”

Smile turning more genuine and laughing himself, Roman let go of his arms and instead wrapped his arms around his waist and lifted, twirling them around with a sure step even as the water splashed around his feet. Setting him down gently, he rested his forehead against Virgil and held him as close as he could. 

“Maybe both- knowing me, probably more of the latter. Do you really mind?”

The sparks were dying down as the sky darkened and yet to Virgil his companion still stood bright enough that he feared nothing the darkness could threaten him with. Leaning impossibly closer he touched Roman’s nose to his  own and smiled softly.

“Absolutely not.”

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[readinginthereadyroom]

it’s the queen’s gambit job (lev 4x10) and they are sitting around a table in mcrory’s eating takeout. running down the con.

and nate’s last minute addition of salt to parker’s equipment wasn’t plan b. no, it was plan m.

which is the plan hardison usually dies in. that is if he hasn’t already died in plans c, f, or m thru q. which hardison is VERY concerned about. after all that’s like 27% of the time. it’s a little too close to home.

eliot and parker don’t die in any plans, tho eliot could be permanently disfigured and blinded in one.

nate DOES NOT ANSWER for sophie.

so they are bickering and being found family (and seriously hoping this is just nate messing with them) and parker proposes a toast. to a glass eye.

and I am gonna headcanon that this becomes a kinda inside code. maybe not plan m, but bad. tho the level of bad is never discussed. after all it’s just a joke. right?

so it’s years later and parker’s the mastermind. she regularly assures hardison that there is no plan m. it’s not even in her alphabet. eliot teases her that her plans span different languages. hardison mutters about binary code and quadratic equations. there’s no m in cuniform, right?

and most the time their cons go off without a hitch. parker’s good like that. the best. her plans are like ballets spun between rotating laser beams. both planned to the smallest movement and completely on the fly. set to violin symphanies, country ballads, and christmas carols.

but sometimes the cons go wrong. eliot gets injured. hardison can’t hack the code. she gets trapped inside a building. and sometimes the cons go wrong bad. sometimes it gets bloody.

that’s when they say it. the first time was eliot. he’d been fighting with the mark’s security goons when the gunshot had rung out over the comms. followed by a grunt of pain and the sound of a body hitting the floor. then a terrible silence. parker hates that she knows what it means.

she flips around in the air duct. barely manages to keep her voice low. the cons over. I’m coming to you eliot. the only sound on the comms is the clack of hardison’s lightspeed typing. a buzzing static. do you hear me eliot? I’m coming to get you.

eliot? hardison’s voice sounds so small. that’s when parker remembers that they’d hacked the cctv footage. hardison had seen the whole thing. I-- he-- hardison stutters before rushing out he’s been shot. it’s bad. you got to get to him parker and you got to get to him. now. 

eliot’s gruff drawl interrupts them. I think this might be a glass eye scenario, sweethearts.

hardison’s typing never falters, but his breath hitches over the comms and his voice is strangled—like he swallowed his soda wrong—when he tells eliot to shut up, I am trying to save your ass. you already look mean enough without any damn glass eye.

it’s classic hardison. talking right over all his internal fears. trying to manifest his words into being. eliot’s huff of laughter tho. it’s strained but it’s also the most beautiful thing she’s ever heard.  

parker’s still in the air vent. she’s moving as fast as she can without rattling the ducts. she whispers into her comms. you should have hardison make it bionic. put a laser in it. and after dealing with a tricky corner dip, also it should be green.

more pained laughter, followed by a groan. my eyes are blue, parker. then hardison’s, guess we’ll just have to save you then. keep you from going all 6 million dollar-terminator-borg on us. keep your baby blues blue. parker smiles. she knows her boys. knew they always focus better when they are bickering.

and in the end it’s okay. parker gets to eliot with the first aid kit and patches him up. hardison hijacks them an elevator and they get out safely. eliot’s glass eye is evaded.

the next time it’s hardison. he’s snatched from lucille 5—right out from under their noses. they can hear his squawk of surprise over the comms. the shuffle of bodies and the distinct sounds of fists hitting flesh.

eliot growls deep and menacingly. parker can hear him instantly switch gears—from grifting the mark to protecting the team. his heavy footfalls are followed by offended protestations as he knocks people out of his way. the con is blown but parker doesn’t care.

because there’s snow fizzing in one ear and a polite automated error message in the other telling her all she needs to know. hardison’s gone. taken.

it’s an excruciating 28 hrs later when a text message from an unknown number chimes thru on parker’s backup burner phone. it’s only two words: glass eye.

parker sidles right up to eliot. bumps their shoulders together and shows him the message. it’s hardison. we can track his location if we move quick.

good. eliot’s voice drops from it’s usual honeyed whiskey to bloody gravel. it always does when he’s in hitter mode. tell me where he is. I swear if they’ve hurt him I’ll rip their lungs out. parker nods, hardison’s spare laptop already open on her lap. I’ll help.

hardison’s in bad shape when they find him. but not as bad as his captors once eliot’s thru with them. they’re on the highway speeding toward a hospital when hardison finally opens his eyes. parker can see him smile up at eliot in the rearview mirror before he glances up at her.

it’s my peoples. knew you’d come get me. eliot uses a corner of his bandana to wipe the blood away from hardison’s face. course we did, alec. can’t have you getting any glass eyes. wouldn’t suit you. eliot leans down and stage whispers in his ear, his voice warm and smooth again, you’re not nearly badass enough.

hardison sputters in outrage and parker lets out the breath she didn’t know she was holding. drops the hard line of her shoulders. lets up on the gas. if her boys are bickering then she knows everything is going to be okay.

hardison will be okay. they will be okay. no glass eyes today.

and eventually it’s parker’s turn. it’s not even a proper job—she’s scaling an elevator shaft for recon when a support gives way. and it’s silly. she’s fallen 3 floors and her leg is definitely broken. and she can hear eliot’s voice in her ear saying it was a very distinctive crunch but all she can think is that this is her glass eye.

she must’ve said that out loud because hardison is babbling on about scars and lasers and talking about numbers. seven and nine what? she vaguely thinks it might be some sort of new concussion protocol tho she can’t quite focus enough to make it make sense.

something warm and wet is pooling under her cheek, blocking her vision. oh and that’s it, isn’t it? hardison’s still muttering under his breath and eliot is grunting her name over the comms. c’mon parker you gotta talk to me! I’m coming to get you dammit but you gotta talk. to. me.

can I have a snowglobe in my glass eye? hardison sputters before stuttering—woman I swear you will be the death of me. and she thinks he sounds a little bit relieved. but it doesn’t stop his voice from warbling when he asks, you okay mama?

parker lifts her face out of the tacky puddle it’s in, starts to nod and then immediately throws up. she can’t focus. eliot’s don’t move parker, you have a concussion is followed by a sympathy gag from hardison.

her head is throbbing and her leg feels like it’s on fire. but she can hear her boys breathing over the comms. can hear them cajole her to talk more. they’re coming to get her.

but they’re not bickering. and that feels wrong. that feels wrong bad.

and then there’s a metal scraping sound as the elevator doors above her are pried open. light floods the shaft and parker blinks into it. I can see you she whispers. and she can. they are silhouetted in a rectangle of light above her.

and then they are setting up ropes and climbing down toward her. just like she taught them. and it’s kinda beautiful. even if it’s plan m and a glass eye. I think I broke the pretzels.

when she wakes up it’s two weeks later and she’s hooked up to a hospital bed. her left leg is in a cast and her arms are covered in bruises and rope burn. there’s a bandage blocking half her vision.

but then she sees eliot. he’s asleep in a chair next to the bed, his hand wrapped gently around hers and his head resting on hardison’s shoulder. he looks exhausted. his hair is frizzy and he hasn’t shaved. hardison doesn’t look much better. his mouth is open and he’s half snoring. his clothes are dark and rumpled.

she smiles. she’s always enjoyed catching her boys like this—soft and quiet and together. it’s the next best thing to hearing them bicker.

that’s when she sees it. a sparkle of light, almost like a diamond, on the medical cart between them. nestled in a padded velvet box is a glass eye.

[watermelonlipstick]

Parking Lot

This is a love letter to the Dean who told Cassie everything about his life after knowing her for 2 weeks and who didn’t see What Is And What Should Never Be as a horror show until he saw his bond with Sam was gone. I don’t think it would work for a later seasons Dean, who had pretty conclusively abandoned this idea for himself. I’d love any advice or critiques!!

Title: Parking Lot

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3801

Summary: A parking lot quickie leads to an illuminating argument between Dean and the reader.

Warnings: Swearing, smut, angst, ~*idiots in love*~, fluff

           In a couple ways it seemed like a lesson; you really shouldn’t have been fooling around in a parking lot no matter how late at night it was. Especially not a bar’s parking lot, potentially more likely to be busy at this hour, shadows be damned.

           But it wasn’t all your fault, not by a long shot. Dean knew exactly what he was doing, getting a Manhattan rather than his standard straight bourbon just for the cherry, rolling it around with his tongue and licking his fingers of the juice while you waited for the guys you were playing pool against to shoot.

           If Sam had been there you might’ve been able to keep it together for politeness’s sake, but you didn’t give a shit about these people and you weren’t doing research for a case, just blowing off steam post-job before heading out of town in the morning.

           Two could play at Dean’s game, though, you arching your back deep into the table to make a shot and practically purring “your turn” when he was up, hovering close enough to see the goosebumps spread over his neck when he smirked and obeyed. He finished the game lightning fast with a string of laser-focused shots and you silently downed the rest of his drink as the guys ponied up, tossing thick folds of cash onto the table and shaking Dean’s hand. You didn’t even feel guilty for hustling them, partly for their ignoring you but mostly for the distraction of Dean’s hands reracking the balls and grabbing your coat, sliding a palm to your lower back with his pinky just barely under your waistband. It was all you could do to wait until you get to the back of the parking lot to shove him up against the Impala and bite his bottom lip almost too hard before slipping your tongue into his mouth.

           You felt the smile and heard the groan at the same time, both pouring into your mouth as you ripped at Dean’s jacket, trying to yank his flannel off his shoulders with it. You abandoned the project to paw at Dean’s tee once you’d gotten the outer layers bunched down around his elbows, kissing him hungry and dark like he was yours to take.

           One of Dean’s bitten off groans trailed off into a barely-there whimper. For all his posturing he loved this, when he could give up being predator and let go for a few minutes to be your prey. He didn’t start fumbling for the door handle until you flicked open his belt, his other hand clutching at a handful of hair at the back of your neck and kissing down your jugular fast and hard. Imagining the way Sam was going to roll his eyes at the hickeys only added adrenaline while Dean finally got the backseat door open, sliding you in and unfurling on top of you. Still working on his jeans, you dragged him tight between your legs.

           “You are—so—mean,” you grinned between kisses. “Teasing me like—that.”

           Dean’s eyebrows kicked up on his forehead, playing dumb like you knew he would. “Me? Never.” His act dropped the moment you finally got his fly open, wrapping your hand around his cock through his boxers and punching all the air out of his lungs. His head rolled back on his neck almost violently, impossibly long eyelashes grazing his cheekbones and lips parted around a breathy “fuck.”

           His switch flipped, Dean scrambled to strip you as fast as possible. You tried to help him in large part to avoid tearing your clothes, ending up crushed into the leather of the bench seat somehow with one leg fully out of your jeans and underwear, the other knee tangled up in the fabric. He’d shoved up your shirt and bra and it would’ve been uncomfortable and tight if any of your senses had been turned to it instead of Dean wetting his middle finger to slip-slide along your clit, murmuring something about “I love it when you do that,” into the side of your neck as he swirled circles into you. After a few moments you were writhing in the seat and Dean pulled that finger back up, sucking you off of it before pushing it up inside you, then another.

           “Fuck me, Jesus Christ Dean,” you moaned against his tongue, yanking him forward until he guided himself into you. The stunted warm-up helped but that first push was always a shock, and whatever sound you made was loud enough that Dean covered your mouth with his hand, grinning conspiratorially down over fingers still steeped in you as he thumped you into the car door.

           “Quiet—someone’s going to hear you.”

           You bit his hand and Dean yelped with a chuckle, pulling it back before you roped around his neck and kissed him lasciviously. “Don’t tell me what to fucking do,” you smirked.

           He stabilized himself against the Impala’s door to pound into you harder, you wrapping your legs around his waist and whisper-moaning filthy nothings into his ear, biting his neck until suddenly you felt that finely honed awareness pique in the back of your mind, flaring hot enough to burn and you froze, thighs clamped tight around Dean.

           “Baby, I—”

           “Don’t fucking move—did you hear that?” you hissed.

           Dean tried to pull back and tensed hard, shuddering into you as you tried to lift your head to see as surreptitiously as possible before the delayed processing hit you. When you looked up at Dean he didn’t meet your eyes, wincing over one shoulder with his arms still planted.

           “Tell me you didn’t,” you whispered.

           He was silent for a half-second, still didn’t meet your eyes. “I tried t—you fucking death-gripped me with your legs, what was I supp—”

           “Oh my god, get off of me,” you yelped, trying your best to sit up and snatch at anything to clean yourself up before realizing it was useless. “FUCK! Fuck, Dean, fuck, what’re we going to—I can’t be—”

           He leaned back into the seat to get back into his jeans and fasten his belt. “One thing at a time, okay? They’ve got like pills and stuff right? We don’t even know if it’ll take.”

           You rolled your eyes angrily at him as you jammed your leg back into your jeans. “Our fucking luck it’s already triplets.” You ran a hand through your hair and took a deep, hard breath. “Okay, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

           “No, I get it.” He slumped into the seat next to you. A long beat passed, you and Dean both sitting stupid, half-dressed in jeans and untied boots, hair all over the place. He cleared his throat. “Wanna head out?” His voice was small and rough; you knew he was sorry and maybe a little embarrassed. If you were more highly evolved you might’ve been able to console him more in that moment, but your heart was bounding through your chest about what was going to happen next—if. You managed to squeeze his hand in solidarity if nothing else before grabbing your stuff and moving to the front seat.

           Minutes of silent road passed before Dean reached over and covered your knee with his hand. You capped it with one of yours and saw his lips twitch up at the corner in response.

           He glanced over at you tentatively. “Maybe it uh, wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, you know?”

           Your incredulity spun you around in your seat so you were fully squared to him. “What?”

           It was dark in the car but you thought maybe Dean’s cheeks started to look pink. “I don’t know, teaching a little squirt how to play catch or whatever, might be cute.”

           “You cannot be serious.”

           His eyes flicked back over to you and his lips pursed out, trying to look non-plussed. “Whatever. Just trying to make you feel better.”

           “No, you’re not. Because that exact possibility is scaring the shit out of me right now and two minutes ago you were trying to convince me we were going to pill this away. So it’s—is that something you want? Having a kid someday?”

           Dean took his hand back under the guise of using two hands to turn the steering wheel.  “No.”

           You waited, willed your own heartbeat to slow down. As you knew he would, Dean kept talking, keeping his eyes on the road more to avoid the vulnerability of looking in your eyes rather than out of necessity on the long, straight stretch of road. “I don’t know. It really seems that bad to you? Having something that’s really, like, ours? Just you and me?”

           “We’re not talking about a something, Dean, we’re talking about a fucking kid.”

           “Jesus, fine, forget it. Sorry I asked.”

           His knuckles went white on the steering wheel and underlined that Dean Was Done Talking. What an absolute waste of a fun little night out, leaving Sam to have a couple hours alone. Now instead of getting back looser to a well-rested Sam, you were going to barrel into this crappy motel terrified with a pissed off Dean, dropping it all at the younger Winchester’s feet to deal with (again).

           It took you until the motel parking lot to muster up the courage to touch Dean’s wrist. “Can we talk for a second?” Dean pretended to be annoyed but you could tell it was an act shielding a spot of tenderness. He flopped his hands in his lap and looked over at you expectantly. “Maybe it’s dumb to even talk about this; like you said, it might be nothing. But I just—I mean if—do you really want that? What would that even look like? Not even with me or whatever obviously but leaving hunting, leaving Sam—”

           “Leaving Sam? Who said anything about leaving Sam?”

           “You volunteering him as nanny?”

           Dean sort of half-rolled his eyes and shifted to face you. “You know as well as I do that Sam doesn’t want to be doing this, not forever. I’m not saying we should be fucking trying, obviously, I’m just—I’m going to stick around no matter what happens. I wouldn’t ditch you with my mistake.”

           You scoffed. “How noble.”

           “Not like that. But I’m not a complete moron, I know we’ve played with fire a couple times and I know what I’m doing.”

           “I guess I just figured that was heat of the moment stuff.”

           A flash of something passed over his face, gone almost too fast for you to decipher. Offense? Sadness? “Yeah, part of it. But you—you’ve never even thought about it?”

           “Thought about how I’d get a couple hundred dollars and find a clinic, yeah. I—we can’t be hunters with a baby. And I won’t be stashed in some safe house somewhere, see you and Sam for a day or two every couple months, be the loner single mom who can’t tell anyone anything about her life.”

           “Single mom? I’m not a fucking deadbeat. I just said I wouldn’t make you deal alone.”

           You shot him an exasperated look and took a deliberate breath to keep from rising to the bait. “So what, now you want to get married? Dean, I’m not even really your damn girlfriend.”

           He reached for the handle fast enough that you had to scramble across the seat after him, Dean pausing in the open door. “Look, if it’s not what you want, that’s fucking fine. But don’t patronize me. Not my fucking girlfriend? Fuck you.”

           You flew across the Impala and out of the passenger door, following Dean as he stormed across the asphalt. “Fuck me? How are you mad at me?”

           He spun on his heel in the parking lot. “I tell you I’m willing to leave all of this—all of everything I really know, fucked up as that is—for you, would make you my whole future and you, you—your response is that you’re not even my girlfriend? Yeah, fuck you.”

           “Dean, that’s not what I—” but he had already started storming back to the room. “DEAN!” you yelled, standing stock still in the middle of the lot. He paused with his back to you for what felt like a long second before turning back around. “I don’t want to bring this back to Sam. I’m sorry, okay? I’m just—I’m scared shitless about something that might not even happen and then you spring the idea of some shotgun wedding on me—”

           He rolled his eyes without even a hair of humor, the muscles in his jaw tensing hard enough to catch the cold overhead light. “See, how can you—” he started, before taking a deep, deliberate breath and starting over in a tone that was forced calm. “That’s everything I ha—that’s all I can give you, is loving you and fucking being there for you. So if it’s that fucking cheap or skanky to you then I’m sorry for wasting your fucking time.” When you didn’t respond his spine straightened a few degrees. “What? Say something. Tell me how stupid I am for suggesting that being tied together might not ruin your fucking life.”

           You felt that your mouth had fallen open but didn’t care. “You love me?”

           Dean’s face contorted like he was looking at a mirage of something bizarre, curious and disbelieving and frustrated. “I lo—of course I love you, what the fuck?”

           “Y—you’ve never said that to me.”

           “What? Yes I have.” His voice softened a shade, the certainty his anger had afforded him beginning to slip away like sand at high tide, but his eyebrows stayed indignant.

           You’d never been more certain of anything in your life, that Dean had never said that, because it was something you wanted constantly. Craved, even. Were kept awake at night by; the desire to have your feelings for Dean reciprocated too intense even to dream about. So you justified and bargained with yourself: if fooling around and this kind of casual commitment—girl who would cover him and Sam in a firefight and didn’t hound him for a label—was what he wanted, it was what you would give. Anything for more time with him or the chance to kiss those lips, to see the way he looked first thing in the morning, to get annoyed at his bullshit idiosyncrasies.            

           “No, you haven’t.” So many more words tried to burst forward from you that you had to bite your lip to be sure your mouth stayed closed.

           Dean held your eyes, willing you to say something until he lost his patience. “Who says that stupid shit all the time anyway? You know I love you; I’d do fucking anything for you.” His voice had started to rise again but the heat behind it was some sort of hungry desperation, not hurt rage. “I’m—you don’t think I love you?”

           You started to feel completely exposed by the industrial light, seared alive by green eyes. Shifting your weight from foot to foot didn’t help, and you fought angrily against the lump forming in your throat.

           He looked over his shoulder and the barked “FUCK!” startled you despite yourself. “Kid, I—FUCK, that’s what this is? I loved you since that first fucking hunt in Cleveland! You really think I’m just…? This isn’t some Beaver Cleaver ‘I put you in a family way’ bullshit, I—I don’t know, I just, with you it feels like for the first time maybe it’s not insane to think that I could—that we could—whatever, man, I’m not fucking talking about this.” A hand shot up to rub the back of his neck, a nervous tic you recognized immediately.

           You took two big steps toward him. “Dean, I just—I didn’t know. That’s—I mean I’m not going to say I’ve been thinking about it; but it—it’s more because I didn’t even think it was on the table, you know? I thought we were, I don’t know, really close friends that sleep together.”

           Dean’s eyebrows flew up his forehead and he blew an almost-laugh out of his nose. “I don’t even know what to say to that. Never heard of any friends that live together and fuck raw.” His tongue slid along his molars and he sucked his teeth looking down at the ground, flicker of a despondent, self-deprecating smile twitching his lips. “Uh, noted, I guess. Sorry I misunderstoo—” and his eyes on the blacktop prevented him from seeing you cross the few strides between you, catching him off guard when you kissed him hard enough to bruise, hard enough to feel everything you wanted to say, wanted to scream (at him, from the rooftops, ohmygodhelovesme) take a backseat for a moment. He grunted at the impact, stunned for a half-beat before surging forward into you, wrapping into your hair and pawing at your hips with desperate effort to get closer. Feeling the grin against your mouth, you wished you weren’t standing in the absolute middle of the parking lot, frenzy to have something to push each other against building to a fever pitch inside you when Dean tugged your hair back to look at your face.

           He looked downright pornographic; swollen, flushed pout and impossible lashes framing bedroom eyes Marilyn or Sophia would’ve envied. A washing of cockiness only amplified the effect, those pillowy lips pulling into a lazy smirk. “So is this a really-close-friends kiss or what? Trying to figure out how much tongue I’m supposed to slip you.”

           You giggled good-naturedly, letting the weight of your head press into his palm. “You are such an asshole.”

           “Yeah, you fuckin’ love it.” He sucked on that sweet pulse spot under your ear deeply, some accessory movement with his tongue enough to make you see stars and miss that it was you letting out that ungraceful whine-moan. When Dean spoke the air passing over your spit-slick neck exploded in goosebumps. “And I love you.”

           Dean kissed you in that searching, delicious, eat-you-alive way he sometimes did after a particularly victorious hunt when he either had all the time in the world or didn’t give a fuck about making it; soothing-probing with a little edge of danger that hypnotized you. It pulled at the sweater of your being and tugged, steady and cloying until you were something loose and ephemerous in Dean’s hands, something equally likely to float away or explode right there in that parking lot, clearing a hundred miles in every direction and leaving behind only the imprint of your craving for him. It’s a miracle your brain was able to function at all. In the best circumstances this flayed you open and coming on the heels of having the most beautiful gift you could imagine dropped at your feet—Dean loves you, he loves you and always has—it felt like it could stop your heart and you wouldn’t care.

           “I need about twenty minutes in a cold shower or I promise I’ll knock you up right the fuck here,” Dean growled, low with sin directly into your ear.

           You laughed breathily. “I thought you said that might be a good thing.”

           His chuckle was rough as he pressed his lips to the crown of your head. He rested there for a moment before murmuring into your hair. “You really thought we were just messing around?”

           “Dean, come on, I—don’t make me say it.”

           “Say what?”

           You swallowed shakily, tried to get a handle on your thoughts through the endorphins. “You—I—I’ve had it bad for you, thought if I really like, acknowledged it that it might fuck up what I did get to have of you or that some commitment would freak you out or whatever so I just—I don’t know, tried to be cool about it. Obviously we’ve always been kind of ‘don’t ask don’t tell’ when we were apart—”

           Dean cut off your rambling. “Uh, has there been something you’ve been ‘don’t tell’-ing? I wasn’t ‘don’t ask don’t tell’-ing.”

           “You haven’t?” you asked, surprised enough to be knocked off your nebulous trail of thought.

           “No, I mean—no. You would’ve been fine with that?” The disbelief was so clear on his face it was practically casting a glow around him.

           “Not fine with it—of course not—the thought of it kept me up nights, but I didn’t you to think I was some jealous freak.”

           A smile spread over his face slowly, butter on hot toast. “So you would’ve been jealous?”

           “I was jealous, I thought that’s what was happening.”

           Dean’s head lolled back on his neck a few degrees, smirk cementing itself in place. “That’s kinda hot.”

           It took the tension out of the moment and you chuckled under your breath, glancing down at your feet. “Yeah, you would say that right now, psycho.” It was breathy and shaky but Dean let you have it, throwing his elbow around your neck affectionately and tucking you into his side. With a kiss to the crown of your head, he started you both walking to the room lazily. At the door, you stilled him as he reached for the knob.

           “Would you really want to keep it? Like, no bullshit, if that’s the situation, that I’m actually—you know, you wouldn’t want me to…?”

           He licked his lips and bit the bottom one. They parted for a moment before he began to speak as his gaze flicked between your eyes. “Babe,” he finally breathed, and there was a note of croak there. “I’m in this for the long haul. If that’s where we’re going then we’ll deal with it. If you don’t—if you’re not there, I get it, but for me, I—yeah. If it’s going to be anyone for me, it’s you.”

           “Even now?”

           “I could think of worse things. Worse things have happened to me this week, probably.”

           There were so many follow up questions running through your mind, so many rock-solid certainties that Dean wouldn’t really be able to quit hunting, that even figuring out how to go to an OB-gyn on fake IDs was likely to be more complicated than either of you realized, but his lack of hesitation was so sweet, so earnest, and you were still riding that he loves me high. And you might’ve gotten lucky; it might be nothing, no parking lot baby to contend with, just a tense reminder to be more careful next time. It was easier than you might’ve thought to give yourself permission to relish it for the night, consequences be damned.  

-

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[xenia-cenia]

Xiao x Fem!Reader - Fall

A/N-I’m back and finally writing the scene I’ve planned for him for weeks, shoutout to riko on youtube for making genshin playlists which are carrying my motivation

You guys: please xenia make the characters have happier backstories

Me: haha traumatic childhoods go brrrr

Trigger/Content Warnings: implied suicidal thoughts, spider mention, kidnapping, trauma, death of minor characters 

Word Count: 1,669

Request: No

Summary: flying love confession but more dramatic this time

Stars fell from the sky and landed in his palm. His eyes glimmered in the infinite darkness. How long has he been in this void, the only light being the falling stars? The only sound being death thralls and screams for help?

Xiao was tired.

He wanted to be better, but he was tired.

Stars fell from the sky and struck through his ribs. They ripped his heart in two and pierced his lungs. Xiao was tired.

Xiao was tired.

He wanted to shut his eyes and see all of his friends again, to apologize to the lives he stole and hold himself tightly. He wanted to save himself. He wanted to be better.

Xiao wanted to sleep.

Stars fall from the sky and land in his hand. For the first time in centuries, he holds them to his eye and gazes into their lives. It was to satisfy his curiosity. A quick peek into them, then he’ll never look again. He promised himself this a million times.

Stars fall from the sky and show him something beautiful. Lights, cheers, and smiles. Xiao was tired. Xiao wanted to be better. Xiao wanted to be in the stars. He wanted to hold the stars and keep them safe.

Stars fall from his hands and shatter against the ground.

Xiao was tired.

“XIAO!” A panicked voice drew Xiao from his thoughts. How long has he been standing at this balcony? The sun had long since set. He gave himself half a second to think it over before grabbing his polearm and heading to the scared person.

He burst through the door, heavy breaths filling his chest as he surveyed the room. “(Y/N)?” Xiao called into the seemingly empty room.

“X-Xiao!” Your muffled voice came from under a blanket. You flipped the sheets down and looked at him with the biggest puppy eyes he’d ever seen, “There’s a... a spider.”

His shoulders relaxed and he sighed, “Where?” With a shaky finger, you pointed on the ground by Xiao's foot. Without a second of hesitation, he stomped on it and turned to leave, “Mortals fear the most common of things...”

“Wait!” You called. “Xiao!”

“What is it now?”

“I’m kinda freaked out...” You twiddled your thumbs over the blanket, “Can I sit with you on the balcony?”

Xiao grunted in response, stepping out of the way and holding the door open for you with an expectant yet frustrated look on his face. “I don’t want to talk.”

“That’s fine.” You nervously smiled and followed him onto the balcony. He walked to the edge and leaned on the railing, his eyes slightly widening as he gazed at the stars.

You followed loosely behind, always being sure to keep distance, and looked at the pools of water below Wangshu Inn. Twirls of water lapping against the shores, flickering flames fading into the sand, a serene peacefulness as you gazed into a world you’d never know.

Cool winds grazed your face, you shut your eyes and took a deep breath.

“Stop.”

“What?” You opened your eyes when you heard Xiao's stern voice, his eyes were half-closed with a glint of anger, it wasn’t until you felt the railing biting into your ribs that you knew what was happening.

“If you keep leaning like that, you’ll fall. And you can’t rely on me to catch you.”

You straightened your posture and sighed, “I’m sorry, I-”

He grunted and turned back to the stars. With a slight tilt of your head, you could almost imagine how many stars the adepti has seen through his life. Hundreds? Thousands? Did they shine brilliantly in his memory, or were they dimmed like todays were?

“Do you think the stars listen?” You asked without thinking.

He left his hand on the railing and turned to you, confusion lacing his expression, “What are you talking about?”

You paid his silent judgment no mind and continued, “The stars. Do you think they hear us? When we wish and cry and pray, do they listen?”

“The stars don’t listen, adepti do.”

A sad smile flickered on your lips as you reached your fingers towards the stars, “You’ve always been so hard to talk to, Xiao.”

“Don’t talk like you know me.”

“Sorry, sorry. I just want to blabber, honestly. Do you mind listening?”

He grunted softly, “Mortals and their...” he sighed, “Fine.”

You gripped the railing and took a deep breath, “When I was a kid, I was always terrified of the adepti.” You laughed uncomfortably as Xiao stiffened, “I know it’s not... well, it’s not what you really want to hear, is it? I wouldn’t want to hear that. But, I remember I was, ahhh, 12? 13? I was young. I was very young when it happened.”

Xiao turned away from you, his fingers digging into his arms as he bit his lip.

“I was taken hostage. I don’t remember most of it. But, I... I remember when they took me.” Your voice quivered, “They killed my parents in front of me. It was my fault, y’know. My parents were already unconscious and if I came willingly, they would have survived. I have no family left, and part of me is thankful. I don’t think I could look any of them in the eyes and explain what happened that night. How their baby girl killed them.”

“Did you turn the blade on them?”

“Xiao, I-”

“Did you turn the blade on them? If not, it wasn’t your fault. You said yourself, you were a child. Would you blame a child for the failings of adults?”

“...no.”

“Then why are you blaming yourself?”

You sighed, “Xiao, you’re a... you’re a really nice guy.”

He flinched, “You should sleep. Mortals have weaker bodies.”

“O... okay. Goodnight, Xiao.” You called after him as he walked away. After he left your eyesight, you looked back towards the water, sighed, and went to bed.

You spent hours tossing and turning in your bed. In frustration, you leaped out of bed and walked down Wangshu Inn, stopping only at the shoreline so you could dip your toes in the water and relax.

With the splashing waves and your pounding heart, you couldn’t hear the footsteps crunch on the sand behind you. You hadn’t had the time to process what was happening until you felt yourself lose consciousness.

Dripping water.

Flickering candles.

Harsh wind.

You opened your bleary eyes and pulled yourself up. Where were you? What happened? The room you woke up in was small, with one bed, a door, and a window. With shaky steps, you walked to the door and pulled.

A sharp blast of electricity ran through your palms, you recoiled in pain and took a step backward as tears began to blot your vision. With an angry growl, you glared at the door and stumbled over to the window.

You felt your eyes widen as you looked down. Miles of bricks and dirt leading to ground you couldn’t see.

The door behind you opened, you spun and saw a woman with white hair and piercing blue eyes. She looked you up and down, her eyes scanning you in a way that gave you chills, and smiled sweetly.

“Welcome, dear.”

“Wh...what?”

“Do you know how hard you are to track down? Years and you seem to escape our grasp each time. It’s quite tiring, dear, I was just about ready to give up.”

“Years?” You echoed in a breathy voice.

“Years.” She confirmed. “Truly, I don’t know why we keep going after you. But the Princess gets what she wants. Ah, how she’s wanted you to join us for years.”

“What Princess?”

“Oh.” Her eyes flared, “The Princess of the Abyss.”

“I-I have no idea...”

“What I’m talking about? They never do.” She stalked towards you, “Even now, I can sense the power inside of you.”

You pressed yourself against the window and felt your heart rate increase.

“I wonder what lies below your skin. What oozes from your veins.” She hummed, her voice low as she spoke, “I’d love to see.”

“I...” Your throat was dry as you attempted to reply. She stepped towards you, her arms on either side of your head, a polite smile on her lips. “I don’t...”

“It’s quite beautiful outside, isn’t it?” She pointed behind you and gazed at the night sky. “I’ve always thought the night was a bit boring, however, tonight seems to shine.” She leaned down and whispered into your ear, “I wonder if your fear is what makes them so brilliant?”

“Th... them?”

She laughed suddenly and loudly as she pulled away, “Oh, the stars of course!”

“The stars...” your voice fell quiet.

The woman crossed the room and smiled at you, “Well, darling, you should rest. You have a very busy day tomorrow.” She grabbed the door and grinned as electricity pulsed through her skin, a bounce in her step as she opened the door and left you alone.

You turned towards the window and took a deep breath. You pulled yourself onto the ledge and stood up. Slowly and shakily, you turned to face the window, clasped your hands in front of your chest, and let yourself fall.

“Xiao,” you whispered as you fell. “I hope you were lying.”

Stars fall from the sky and grab his attention. He breaks into a sprint and is long gone before anyone can recognize what happened.

Xiao was tired.

Xiao wanted to be faster, but he was tired.

Stars fall from the sky and cry.

Stars fall from the sky and talk to him on his lonely nights.

Stars fall from the sky and smile.

Stars fall from the sky and trust him.

Stars fall from the sky and call him good.

Xiao was tired.

Xiao wanted to save the stars. Xiao wanted to be better than he ever was.

Stars fall from the sky and Xiao hears himself scream.

Stars fall from the sky and he prays that he’s fast enough.

Stars fall from the sky and he takes heavy breaths.

Stars fall from the sky and land in his arms.

Xiao was fast enough.

“You idiot.” He growled as he landed, his hands curling around you, “What happened?!”

You laughed nervously and threw your arms around him in a tight hug. “You caught me.”

“It’s my duty.” He hadn’t realized he was hugging you back until his hands connected with the soft clothes you were wearing. “I’ll...” he stopped himself. Was he really about to say that? No. 

You pulled away from the hug and swiped your thumb under his eyes, “Please, don’t cry.” You spoke in a trembling voice.

“What? I’m not-” he shifted your weight to one arm and felt his eyes. “Oh.”

As Xiao gazes into your smile, his heart rate settles and he couldn’t deny the sense of calm. “I’ll always catch you if you fall.”

Stars landed in his arms and blush.

Stars landed in his arms and say ‘I love you.’

Xiao was awake.

Xiao was fast enough.

Xiao was good enough.

Xiao was enough.

Xiao smiled softly, “Mortals... always so dramatic.” He leaned forward and kissed your forehead, “I could get used to it.”

[ragingbookdragon]

Do You Believe In Life After Love? PT. 1

Arkham Knight!Jason Todd x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 2.4 Warnings: Angst, Mentions of Violence and Death

Author's Note: I have edited this story so it's nicer. Love me for this, please because I fought the cringe for y'all. Enjoy! -Thorne

Gotham looked bleak in the wake of the militia’s arrival. Even the thugs that were rioting in the street seemed to avoid the armored tanks and patrols as they passed, and GCPD had withdrawn most of their officers to stay at the precinct. He’d never claim he couldn’t do it on his own. He had to keep going. He had to save Gotham. He had to—

“You know, it wouldn’t kill you to ask for help once in a while.” He didn’t have to look over his shoulder to know who was speaking. She walked up beside him, leaning on the ledge he was perched on.

He didn’t look at her when he spoke, his eyes still trained on the city before him. “You should still be resting. Your ribs aren’t fully healed yet.”

She chuckled and turned, looking out at the spotlights shining. “They’re healed enough.” She side-eyed him. “Besides, this is becoming a lot more than you can handle.”

He shook his head. “It’s fine. I can handle thi—” He looked down when he felt a hand curl around his wrist, then he looked back up, seeing the solemn stare in her gaze.

“Dad. You almost died at the ACE plant,” she interjected with a shake of her head. “We’ve got this ‘Arkham Knight’ teaming up with Scarecrow, and you’ve got Tim locked in the theater synthesizing a cure.” She squeezed his wrist lightly.

“Ican handle the smaller things, while you handle the militia and Scarecrow.”

He stared at his daughter for a moment, wanting to argue, but he knew it was pointless. Finally, he nodded, pulling away and pushing a few buttons on his wrist screen. “I need someone to help Dick with Penguin, and I need to handle the Man-Bat flying around.”

She nodded as she glanced at her screen, taking in the information he’d sent. “Do you know where it came from?”

“The DNA matches that of Doctor Kirk Langstrom,” he said. “He owns a lab on Bleake Island. Here’s the coordinates.”

Humming, she slid a wave-marker into the cowl’s visor to give her direction before stepping up on the ledge. “I’ll go to the lab, then help out Dick.” He stared at her as she turned to face him, her feet nearing the edge. “Be careful, dad…I don’t want to lose you.” She didn’t give him time to respond, falling backwards over the ledge.

A few seconds later, she was gliding through the sky; a faint smile came to his lips as he watched her, then he turned, heading in the direction of the other island.

***

When she finally found the lab, she was alarmed to see what had happened. Her eyes focused on the screen, replaying the last moments of the experiment, then she put a finger to her ear. “Dad? Can you hear me?”

A few moments later, his voice came over the line. “What happened at the lab?”

She grimaced as she looked at the body of Francine Langstrom. “Apparently Langstrom was trying to find a cure to his deafness by mixing in vampire bat DNA with his. Something went horribly wrong, and he mutated into the giant bat thingy flying around Gotham.” She paused, her voice mournful. “His wife’s dead.”

There was a slight pause from her father then he murmured, “Can you get to a computer to synthesize a cure?”

She glanced around, trying to find a working computer amongst the shattered screens. When she found one, she moved to it, typing away at it.

After a few moments, she pulled the cure out and put it into the injector she carried. “Alright. I’ve got the cure. Do you know where he is?”

“He’s on Bleake now. Find him in the skies.”

She nodded, moving to the door. “Will do.”

***

When she arrived back in the city, she climbed up the clocktower and waited. Once she saw him darting across the sky in a hulking mass of gray flesh and black talons, she acted, kicking off the ledge to glide across the sky until she was above him; she dove, tackling him to the ground and injecting him, but he fought her, viciously slicing at her with his claws until she rolled away. He screeched at her and flew off.

She grunted as she clambered to her feet, dusting off the dirt they’d rolled in and a voice came over the comm. “Did you find him?”

A huff escaped her, and she explained, “I did…but he wrestled with me and took off the second I injected him.” She looked down at the injector, still holding the remaining cure. “We’re gonna have to go another round.”

“Watch the skies then. In the meantime, go find Dick. He’s somewhere on Miagani.”

She took a moment to catch her breath before pulling out her grapple and aiming it towards the roof of an adjacent building. “Alright. Will do.”

The crinkle of her father’s communicator faded out and she pulled the trigger, letting her body go weightless as she shot up towards the ledge. Holstering the grapple gun, she climbed over the ledge and paused, glancing down at her screen as she stood on the roof. A few moments had passed, and she looked at the city, seeing the chaos that had enveloped it within the few hours that had gone by. Riots littered the boulevards and the militia had begun putting mines in the roads as they started barricading the avenues and main streets. Something akin to hopelessness rose in her chest, but she shoved it down, reminding herself that with her, Dick, Tim, and her dad, they could save Gotham. It was just going to take some more time.

“Are you thinking about how Batman let the city go to hell?”

She couldn’t fight the gasp that escaped her as she spun around, taking in the image of the Arkham Knight before her. His stance was nonthreatening, in fact it was almost curious, but she stood on her guard anyway, her voice and eyes cold.

“There’s only two people to blame for this city going to hell. Scarecrow…” She pointed at him, her voice frosty. “And you.” He gave her no reaction, other than taking a step towards her, heavy metaled boot making a thump against the concrete roof.

Reaching down, she pulled the Ka-Bar from her thigh and warned, “I’d be careful how close you come, pal. I’m one person you don’t wanna tango with.”

He stopped and stared at her. “Look around you, Batgirl. This is what Gotham City truly is. Chaotic and beyond saving.”

She tipped her head back, her tone becoming challenging. “Is that what you’ve been conditioned to believe? Or did Scarecrow just feed you something to change your mind.”

That seemed to irritate him because he snapped harshly, “You have no idea what I’ve been conditioned to believe.”

“I know you’ve got a petty grudge against Batman, and you believe that inciting chaos amongst people is the best way to deal with it.”

His anger seemed to cool as his voice turned to ice, and she almost shivered at how the temperature seemed to chill around them a few degrees. “My grudge with Batman is more than petty.” He pointed at her, the holographs on his mask shifting with every word. “He deserves to die.”

She flipped the knife into the air and caught it, raising it defensively as she reached out with the other out and beckoned him. “You want Batman?” she challenged. “Then you come through me.”

The Arkham Knight didn’t move until she jerked forward, stabbing out with the knife. He dodged her easily enough, sliding beside her and she twisted, following him with a well-rounded kick aimed for his torso. Instead of evading, he grabbed her foot and yanked her. Hard. Her breath caught in her throat as she was hauled forward and cursing inwardly, she brought the knife down, hoping to catch him as she fell. His gauntleted hand shot out and caught hers, and when she reached out with the other, he caught it too. Not wasting any time, he kicked her feet out from beneath her and dropped them to the ground, putting all his weight onto her hips to stop her from moving as he slammed her hands beside her head against the rooftop.

Her eyes widened in shock at how quickly everything had happened. No one had ever been able to take her down that fast, and the reality that she might meet her end caught up with her. She began to squirm, trying to rise up enough to catch him with a shoulder but with her wrists in his grip it wasn’t likely, and with all his weight on her legs, she couldn’t kick out or try to flip him off.

“Stop moving,” he suddenly commanded, but it didn’t sound as harsh as his earlier words.

She glared at him and spat, “You wanna kill me, go ahead. But he’s still gonna take you down.”

There was a pause, then he shifted her hands until he held them both in one hand, and he reached towards her face. She reacted like anyone would subdued by an enemy, emitting a warning in her throat as she tried to avoid the oncoming touch. When his hand came into contact with her cheek, she flinched at the chill of the titanium, but his touch was…kind and gentle.

“I’m not going to kill you, (Y/N),” he promised softly. “The last thing I’d ever want to do is hurt you.”

She stilled at the mention of her name, shock etching across her features. His fingers brushed her cheek once more, this time a loving caress, his thumb brushing over her lips.

“How…how do you know my name?” (Y/N) questioned and his hand halted, then he reached up and pressed a button below his jaw.

She watched the mask rise and when his face came into view, she felt her heart stop and she blinked, breathing, “…Jason?”

At the mention of his name and the recognition, he let go of her hands and reached down, removing the gloves from his hands. He reached back down to cup her cheeks, thumbs stroking over her cheekbones then to her eyebrows, like he was trying to remember how her skin felt underneath his calloused hands.

She could see the long-withheld emotions fighting inside him as choked, “God, I’ve wanted to see you for so long.” His hands felt warm against her face, and she reached up to touch him, but stopped as she saw the “J” burned onto his face. He must’ve realized she was staring at it, because he pulled one of his hands away and covered it, muttering, “The Joker…he did it.”

Whatever reaction he was expecting, anger, fury, disgust, it wasn’t the one she gave him, as she let out a sob and jerked forward, wrapping her arms around his neck. His entire body went rigid, then slowly, his arms wound around her waist, pulling her to him until there was no space between them, and even then, he tried to pull her closer, squeezing with all his strength. She began to shake in his arms, and he quietly shushed her.

After a few moments, she pulled back and took off her cowl, staring at him with red-rimmed eyes; she swallowed thickly before murmuring, “…We thought you were dead, Jason.”

His expression turned dark as he muttered, “Joker kept me locked in the asylum all that time.”

(Y/N) had no idea what to say. What could she? She figured she could apologize for not looking in the asylum. Or that she failed him. Instead, she said nothing and took his face in her hands, pressing her forehead to his. He shut his eyes and a shuddering breath left him as he gently grasped her forearms, trying to ground himself. Some time had passed before he pulled away and helped her to her feet. (Y/N) stared into the eyes of her lover and readied herself for what she was about to say.

She took a deep breath and bent over, picking up the knife to put it back in its sheath. “I…I can’t even begin to imagine what happened to you, Jason,” she said as she gazed at him. “And I’m sorry it did…I’m sorry I didn’t try harder to find you.”

Grasping the cowl, she pulled it back on then clenched her jaw and said, “You can go this time…but if I see you again…I will stop you.”

His eyes widened in shock for a split second, then they narrowed, and he tipped his head up, questioning, “So, this is how it’s going to be?”

She nodded despite the grief welling in her chest. “This is how it has to be.” (Y/N) explained as she turned away from him. “You’re trying to kill my dad and destroy Gotham…I can’t let you do that.”

“You don’t care that he left me to die?”

She spun back around, her voice wrought with disbelief and resentment of the accusation. “That’s not what happened, and you know it!” she condemned. “You turned you comm and tracker off then went off on your own! We searched everywhere for you! None of us let you die!” She reached out and curled her fingers in the straps at his side. “We saw you die Jason! I watched my father fall into the deepest pit of depression I’ve ever witnessed!”

She let him go, her hands falling limply to her sides. “Don’t you dare say that he didn’t care that you died…it haunts him.” (Y/N)’s eyes met his and she lamented, “It haunts me.” He said nothing, and she shook her head, turning back around. “I don’t know what you expected from me. To help you destroy Gotham? To kill my father and everything he stands for?”

She paused, then admitted, “I love you, Jason. More than anything…but you’re dead wrong if you think I’d be on your side with this.”

The sound of mechanized armor echoed in her ears and his sarcastic laugh turned robotic as he ridiculed, “Guess there is life after love, huh?”

(Y/N) gave him no response, and a moment later, she was standing alone on the rooftop. A feeling of overwhelming numbness seeping out from her heart to her limbs as her lungs began to tighten.

“Yes…I guess there is.”

[shaydeoffical]

Let’s Slip Away: Diluc x Fem Reader: Childhood Best Friend Au

Summary: You and Diluc slip away from the annual Dawn Winery Ball and confess. Reader then deals with some anxiety about the relationship and Diluc soothes them.  

Tags:

Lots of fluff, Creepus is a wonderful person, Diluc is so smooth, dancing under the moonlight, long fit.  

Diluc x Reader

Lets Slip Away

The annual Dawn Winery Masquerade Ball, the biggest ball this side of Mondstat, or it used to be. Thankfully, Diluc had successfully scaled the ball down in size a little more with each passing year. Still, it didn't make much of a difference with the ballroom still being packed tight. No matter how the guest list shrunk, people found a way to take up the same amount of space as before. There's nothing I loved more than a dance, but it was the people I couldn't stand. Everyone liked to pretend they were an evil aristocrat once their identity was concealed. A fancy dress, a decorative mask, and a new hairstyle, and everyone felt invincible. It was the same thing every year; they'd order the staff around, drink till they lost control, and leave the manor a mess. It was deplorable.

After watching a woman toss a glass on one of the maids, I lost my cool. I may or may not have tossed my grape juice on the women in retribution. The maid couldn't do it, so I had to use my position as "Master" Diluc's best friend to get away with it. What I didn't expect was for the lady's husband to toss not just the wine but the whole glass at my face. While the glass didn't bust when the base hit my head, it did leave a notable bruise, and the wine soaked through my hair, mask, and dress.

Elzer stepped in immediately to settle the issue, and instead of sticking around to get a lecture, I slipped into the garden. Hiding between several grapevines. I listened to the music pour from the house above and pouted. If I had played my cards right tonight, I would have been dancing in an empty corner with Turner or maybe even Diluc if he was free. He always saved the last dance for me. When the party started to clear a little, we'd stay in my favorite corner and have a quick dance while he whispered about he'll find a way to have the event canceled next year. But no, I was being eaten by mosquitos fighting off a headache.

Holding my mask between my hands, the once white fabric had stained dark red. Even my cream dress was littered with splotches that wrecked of dandelion wine. Sucking in my lower lip, I held back a sudden wave of sadness. It settled into my bones and swept through my limbs in a jitter. Why was I so sad? I avenged the maid and did the right thing… but my chest ached.   Curling around myself, I tucked my head between my lap. There was a time and place for crying, and a party wasn't one. Yet, there I was, sobbing into the fancy gown Diluc had hand made for me. Of course, he wouldn't be mad at me for what happened, but the guilt was eating me alive. I had ruined the evening for myself and made things harder on my friend. "There you are. I've been looking all over-. Hey, Elzer told me what happened, but he didn't mention a welt. How badly are you hurt?" Diluc pushed through the vines faster and hopped over the last row. He knelt beside me and carefully lifted my chin so he could see my face. "I'm just being a baby." I leaned back, the moonlight catching my skin. He ran his thumb over the knot on my forehead, and he clenched his teeth. "Damn bastard." He looked back at the mansion. "He might be wearing a mask, but there's only one person in Mondstat with monogram shoe buckles." "What?" I laughed; he was so serious, but the idea of a monogram shoe buckle had me drying up my tears. "Who pays for that kind of thing?" "Mr. Barker." Diluc wiped under my eyes. "Are you hurt anywhere besides your head?" "Besides the guilt of running the dress you got me and making the party harder for you to manage, I'm fine." I let it out. There was no use in pretending it wasn't bothering me. I had learned a lot about Diluc in our years of being together. While he was a very perceptive man when it came to solving crimes and putting things together, he didn't have the same skill for guessing how I felt. He's known something was wrong before, but he'd just find ways to blame himself if I didn't tell him. "I'll have you another dress made, and those Barkers aren't your fault. Ms. Barker started it, and I ended it. There's always a little drama at these events." He twirled my hair around his finger. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to stop it entirely." "Don't go blaming yourself now." I scooted so close; I was almost in his lap. "Let's just focus on the music or the sky. I know you'll have to go back in soon, so let's just relax for a moment." "Hmm, I can hear it from here. It's nice." A soft number started to play, and people passing by the window cast shadows into the courtyard. He leaned his head against mine. Minutes passed by, and the song changed, both of us just settling our nerves. "So, I guess we won't have the last dance together this year." I hummed, the thought burning at the back of my mind. "I can't go back in there like this." I forced myself to laugh, trying to get it off my chest without sounding too sad. "We don't have to go back in. Elzer can handle the end of the night speech for me, like every year." Diluc stood, reaching his hand out to me. "Milady, may I have this dance?" "Diluc…of course, you may." I pushed my insecurities down and gripped his rough hand. Being wealthy, Diluc had been trained in many different types of formal ballroom dances. When he was in the zone, there was no one but Kaeya who could match his prowess and aura. But I wasn't blessed with the same background. I was just the daughter of the maid, and while my mother was paid well, there wasn't enough money to pay for a dance instructor. However, Diluc taught me everything he knew. We use to spend hours after his class, practicing and gliding around the living room. After some time, I even got to join the classes as Diluc and Kaeya's partner. Creepus convinced my mother it was just good practice for the boys, but looking back, he just wanted me to get that experience as well. "You okay?" Diluc gently gripped my waist as I spun back into his arms. "Yes, I was just thinking about when you taught me how to dance." I closed the gap between us and started moving with the song. Diluc took charge after a few more movements, and I gave up trying to lead. It was always a fun game for us to try to take charge, but I normally gave in fairly fast. Every now and then, he'd let me lead, but I often stepped on his toes when I did.   The ground wasn't level as a dance floor, so it was easier to just follow Diluc. Since he took the first step, he was able to find the best footholds. When we did hit a small hump, we'd steady each other and share a small smile. It wasn't a seamless performance like when we were on solid ground, but it was fun. It also gave us a reason to cling tighter to each other. His broad chest was always so warm; there was nothing more pleasant than laying my head there and closing my eyes as we swayed under the moon. "That was always so much fun." Diluc spun me out, then back into his arms. "Father use to watch us practice, he never told me directly, but Elzer said it was one of his favorite memories." Diluc pressed his lips into a line, eyes turning back to the manor. "He always loved this event, but I can't help but hate it." "I'm not a fan of the crowds or the entitled guests. But I do enjoy dancing with you." I laid my head on his shoulder, bringing him back to the present. "It seems we only dance when this event rolls around. And I can't help but wish for more moments like this. So, while I understand your distaste, I do think Creepus had the right idea. This is a chance for all of us to come together do something we all loved…it just is hard to enjoy when other people are so entitled." "I feel the same way. Dancing with you, it's always my favorite part of the ball." We swayed back and forth in a tight embrace, the music fading out and our footwork growing sloppy. "There's been so much to do recently. I'm afraid I've neglected you." "Mother told me that as friends get older, drifting apart is normal… I'm just glad you're still here with me. No matter how short that time is." He hugged me tighter, inhaling a sharp breath. "Maybe friends do, but my feelings for you are much stronger than just friends." I gasped before I could stop myself. Crickets chirped in the distance, and the lighting bugs emerged just as the party started to close. This moment was very much real…but did he really just confess? "You want to be with me?" I slowly looked up, grabbing the sides of his suit. "As more than friends?" "I do." He pulled back a little, glancing at the ground. "How do you feel? Could you ever love me as more than a friend? I know it's selfish to ask that of you, given the dangers that follow my line of duty. But I can't deny myself any longer." "My heart is going to jump out of my chest, Luc." Grasping his hand, I pressed it to my wrist. He smiled, rubbing his thumb over my pulse. "I want to be yours, and you mine. To be honest, I've had feelings for you for a while now. I just thought you didn't return them." Heat climbed up my face, and I looked away to hide it. While his confession was so smooth, mine was energetic and messy. Why couldn't I keep it calm? "That settles it then." He stepped closer, our eyes locking and fingers lacing. "We'll be together from here on out." A warm breeze went by, picking up the bottom of my ruined skirt. "Next time there's a dance, you won't have to leave my side, nor I yours. There will be no flying wine glasses or uncouth guests. We can dance the night away without worry or interruption." "I don't know if a party could ever go that smoothly." I pushed his hair back and cupped his face. "Unless we barred over half the guest list." "If you don't think I'd do that, then you underestimate how far I'll go to make you happy." His checks tined red, barely illuminated by the moon. "Oh, I don't doubt you, Master Diluc. But I'm not hard to please, we could dance in the living room like we use to, and I'd be the happiest person alive." I tugged him closer, wrapping my arms around his hips, and swaying to an imaginary beat. "It's not often you add my title before my name." He hummed, letting me lead us to the song in my head. "Master Diluc, whatever do you mean?" I batted my eyelashes and snickered. "I didn't realize I added it. Maybe it's where I've spent most of the night talking about you, and not to you that I've forgotten how to be relaxed. There was many a guest who wanted to pry about your love life." "Well, you have a definitive answer now, Lady Amber." He kissed the top of my head, stopping for a moment. His body radiated a wave of heat, and he nodded to himself. "It's starting to get cold. We should head inside before you catch a cold. I'm sure everyone's left by now." "I don't want this moment to end." I clung to his shirt, the warmth he emitted making my eyelids grow heavy. Whenever he allowed me to use him as a personal heater, I took the chance. But this was the first time I didn't worry about it being the last.   "We have many more moments like this ahead of us." He supported me as we walked towards the mansion, looping his arm around my waist. "Let's go clean up, and turn in for the night. Tomorrow we can have breakfast and go for a ride along the river. How does that sound?" "It sounds so nice." Once we were back in the house, Elzer met us in the doorway. "Where have you been, Master Diluc?" He rubbed the bridge of his nose and glanced at me. "And you, Ms. Amber, what were you thinking tossing your drink? You completely ruined the night. I could hardly contain the guests" Diluc wrapped his arm around my shoulder, and Elzer's tone sifted from miffed to muted. "Elzer, the issue was with the guests, not Amber." He steered me towards the stairs, nudging me along. "Go on to bed. I'll be up there in a moment. I have some business to finish up." Diluc walked towards his office, motioning for Elzer to follow him. Elzer shot me a perplexed look and tried to mouth out, 'be more careful' before hurrying after Diluc. I whisper back, "okay," before taking the stairs two at a time before stopping. I wasn't going to get in trouble, so I might as well show I'm not ashamed. "Goodnight Elzer," I called after the older man, with as "pleasant" of a tone as I could muster. Parties almost always stressed him more than Diluc, but since Elzer was an employee, he couldn't run and hide like Luc. Truth be known, if Diluc hadn't been there, I would have gotten a long lecture on the importance of keeping good relations with potential business partners. But that's only because Elzer couldn't let his frustrations out on anyone else. I was always there to listen and receive his distain when things went wrong. It wasn't my favorite pastime, but it did help him feel better. It was surprising he was so stressed, he actually chastised me in front of Diluc. It must have been a tough night even after I left. I usually was lectured in private, but he really was ready to let me have it.   Once in the guest room, I disrobed. The heavy gown took several minutes to untie and loosen the laces, but once it was done, my lungs could fully expand. My ribs ached, so I rubbed circles on my sides till the initial throb dulled. The night had gone better than I ever planned, and now it was over. Yet, there was a worse throb in my chest than the pain of a corset. Diluc and I were finally together. We removed the ever-lingering question and just confessed. Why did it hurt inside? Was it that the party was hard on everyone else and I was so happy? Or was it something else? Tilling the blue pitcher on the nightstand, water rushed into the ornate basin below. Dipping a rag into the cool water, I began to wash the wine from my face. It had been such a stressful night. Perhaps the empty feeling inside was fear of the unknown. Or fear that Diluc would wake up and change his mind. That he'd send me away for good once he realized he could never be with someone of such low status. Someone who didn't couldn't even keep up public appearance at a ball. Maybe, it would just take me slipping up once when I was wearing a mask? Then he'd send me away from the manor. I finished cleaning up, then tossed the water out the window. Fixing the pitcher and basin back in place, I reached below the nightstand and pulled out my nightgown. Slipping on the flowy gown, I turned down my sheets and got comfortable. This guest room had been mine for as long as I could remember. While I still lived in the cottage by the river with my mother, I spent more nights at the mansion than at home. Diluc and I would rush through his paperwork every night, and I'd help get his gear ready to go protect Mondstat. I was his sidekick in many ways. Spending so much time there at night, it just made sense for me to sleep here too. We were a great team. Plus, the close proximity made things easier and less suspicious… But that wasn't the whole truth. It was more so that my mother had met someone new, and he had moved into our shared home. He was a nice man, a retired Knight of Favonius, but I just couldn't relax around him. He was stern about me not going out after dark, so staying over at the mansion became more and more frequent. Which was better for mom and Mr.Godfrey's partnership. But while I spent more nights away, mom started to believe there was something between Diluc and me, so she was happy to see me leave home. She was going to be overjoyed to hear the news that we confessed. Though, I'm sure she'll say kicking me out was the reason we finally admitted our feelings, which was not the whole truth. Still, I did miss my own bed sometimes. Pressing my back to the headboard, I curled my knees up and rested my head between them. Sucking in a deep breath, small tears slipped past again. There was too much happening. I couldn't think about one thing for too long. So much good just happened. Why? Why was I thinking about the bad? A familiar rasp at the door rang through the room. "Come in." Wiping my eyes, I sat up and pulled the covers up to my neck. "You're crying again." He walked into the candlelight. I could tell he had cleaned up before coming to see me. He was wearing one of his loose puffy shirts and some cotton pants; his hair had been smoothed and pulled into a low ponytail, water dripping from the ends. It didn't matter what he wore. He always looked unbelievably handsome. "Was it Elzer? He knows it's not your fault. He was just worried about our trade deal." "There's just so much to think about. I can't let myself be happy." I rubbed my eyes again. "What if you realize I'm not good enough for you? Or what if my mother's partner treats you poorly because you quit the Knights? Then that couple, what if they stop working with you and it hurts the business because of me? No one is ever going to see me as anything more than a gold digger." My brain let loose, new concerns and problems being added to my mix. "I'm so negative right now, and I know you probably just want to be happy that we feel the same way…but- I'm so sorry. "He pulled back the covers and crawled in with me. Wrapping me in his arms, the blanket went over our heads, and Diluc settled down. "There you go, having to comfort me like a child." I rested my hand on his shoulder. "You sure you could learn to love a mess like me?" "I already love you." He rubbed patterns on my back, pressing a kiss to the lump on my forehead. "You've been like this since we were children, plagued with worries beyond your control. I know that after you let it out, you always feel better. And that the minute you go silent, that's when I really need to do some digging." He paused drawing on my back and instead moved to play with my hair. "We'll figure it all out as we go, all the what's and if's. We'll take them one at a time, starting with the one I have control over." "Woah." He flipped me over, hovering inches from my face. He pinned me between his legs, the v neck of his shirt hanging open so I could see the red hairs on his chest. "You could be from the richest family in Mondstat or poorest, and I'd still want to be with you." He kissed me, pressing down just until our bodies touched. "I'd go as far as to say, if you were a member of the Fatui, I'd still be smitten. I would certainly find a way to break your ties with them, but I couldn't stop loving you. So, you are more than enough for me, and if anyone makes you feel differently, then I will handle it." "That's a bold statement coming from you." I ran my fingers through his ponytail as it hung over his shoulder. "I can't argue with that logic, but I promise I'm not a member of the Fatui." I wrapped my arms around his waist, encouraging him to squish me with his full weight. "I'm going to crush you." He fought against me, but I only nuzzled his neck, blowing raspberries. "Amber, hey." "I know. But I'd also like to point out how improper it is for you to be in my room at this hour. So, I'd like to be crushed as repayment… please." I let go of one side of his hip and wiped my eyes. "You are right. It is improper." He lowered himself a little more but didn't fully lay on me. "A true gentlemen would never stay this late with a proper young lady. However, there is something else I want that's a little scandalous." "What could that be?" I gasped, my lungs not fully expanding as his weight sunk down on my chest. He noticed as he sat up to his previous position. "A kiss?" He moved his elbow up and cupped my face. His eyes glimmered with the flame that was lighting up the room. His touch was gentle but so firm I couldn't imagine being in another person's embrace. At that moment, there were only two people in the world, and I was madly in love with one of them.   "That sounds quite proper to me. You should always kiss your lover goodnight." I stuttered a little, unable to keep up the playful banter as I looked at his lips. The smile that spread on his face made the butterflies in my stomach flutter. Archons, I was smitten.   His thumb brushed my lower lip before he brought his mouth down for a chaste kiss. Testing the waters, he hovered millimeters above me, and I stole his lips in a deeper kiss. Having a lack of experience in the field, I matched the pattern he set. Just like dancing, I tried to take the lead and failed miserably. So I did was I was best at, adding the fun flourishes. I curled my fingers into his hair and snaked my hand up his shirt and across his chest. He matched my movements, caressing my face and tilting my head up to deepen the kiss. Every star in the sky dulled in comparison to the explosion of light that spread over my body. He shifted back, catching his breath. he smoothed my hair and peppered, kissing around my face before setting back. "Thank you." He laced our fingers together, pulling my hand to his mouth and kissing my knuckles.     "Will you stay tonight?" I took our intertwined hands and kissed his knuckles in return. "I don't want you to leave just yet." "As you wish." He got behind me, adjusting the covers we had tossed around earlier. "Now, let's get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow." I laid my head on my pillow and scooted back until we were slotted against each other. His hand wrapped around my shoulders in a reassuring squeeze. "I love you." "I love you more." It took a while for all the blood pumping through my body to relax again, but once it did, I fell into a deep and peaceful sleep. Dreams of dancing through the clouds with Diluc filled my head, and I had the best rest of my entire life. Next to the man I dearly loved.   

The End

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[powdermelonkeg]

Missing Links: A New Hyrule

This story has a prequel called Secrets in the Breeze! Go check it out!

My Missing Links

Wind took a deep breath, savoring the scent of the breeze as blew by. It had been awhile since he'd smelled salt in the air.

It was good to be back near the ocean.

One by one, the other heroes came through the portal, which shut behind them with a blue flash. Hyrule looked at Wind curiously. "Do...you recognize this place?"

"Nope!" Wind spun around with a bright smile. "But we’re near the sea! That’s always a good sign!”

“I beg to differ,” Legend muttered, taking note of his surroundings.

It wasn’t much. They stood atop a cliff that overlooked the sea-bordering countryside, with a sparse collection of villages tucked into the nooks of the nation. But what caught the pink-haired hero’s attention most was the network of golden roads that stretched across the land, leading towards a grand tower far inland.

In the shadow of the massive building stood a castle; one the young man immediately recognized, which threw the whole tower into proportion.

It was...big.

“So, here’s the plan.”

The redheaded man slapped a map against a tree, stabbing it through with his hairpin to keep it in place. He snapped his fingers, and the circuits of his prosthetic hand lit up in timeshift blue. “We came in here,” he said, drawing a glowing X over a place in the north of the Forest Realm. “The loser that stole my control slate ran off, and we got lost chasing him. So now we’re down here.” He circled Whittleton Village.

Fox watched the hero explain with wide eyes, fixated on his glowing fingertips.

“The guy could be anywhere,” he continued. “HOWEVER, if he knows how to calibrate it right, he probably has a map updated on the slate. And if he knows what the slate does, which he has to in order to pull a stunt like he did twice in a row, then he’d head for Hyrule Castle.” Taps drew an arrow towards the castle and tower in the distance. “We’ve already lost a day just getting out of Lost Woods. He’s probably way ahead of us if we travel on foot. But if we use one of the minecart guardians people drive around here...” He traced his finger along the minecart tracks that stretched across the land. “We can probably beat him there, as long as we catch one within the next couple hours.”

He spun to face his companion, clicking the drawing rune off. “Any questions?

Fox’s hand shot in the air. “Mr. Link? How does your arm work?”

Taps gave him a flat look. “Timeshift-powered output core.” He gave his prosthetic a solid pat. “Sheikah tech. Not what we were talking about. Any relevant questions?”

“...Well...” Fox rubbed the back of his head. “The...guardian things...they take passengers, right?” He looked at the hero with big eyes. “So, don’t they charge rupees?”

Taps paused. He hadn’t considered that. “...We can stow away.”

“Absolutely not.” The Hytopian put his hands on his hips sternly. “These people have lives to live outside of us. It’s wrong to steal labor from them.”

“They’re not GONNA have lives to live if this timeline gets screwed with by my slate!”

“Then we should get money fast, shouldn’t we?”

Taps’ eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms. “I didn’t exactly bring my wallet with me when I got yanked through time and space. You plan on selling your extra clothes for it?”

Fox gasped in horror, hugging his bulky luggage. “Never!”

“Well then. Not that big a problem, is it?”

Fox bit his lip. “...Give me one hour,” he finally said. “If I can’t earn us enough rupees for a trip by then, then we can talk about stowing away.”

Taps rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He held up a metal finger. “You’ve got one hour.”

Legend walked along the strange track, examining the golden triangles beneath his feet as he followed the rails. The power in them tugged at his attention, no matter how hard he tried to look away.

What were they?

“Hey.” An elbow dug into his shoulder. “Hyrule to Link, are you there?”

Legend side-eyed the offender crossly. “No.”

“Well then,” Warriors replied, smirking. “I guess that means I get your share of lunch.”

“You touch my apple pie and you find out exactly what my medallions do.”

“Ouch. Touchy.” He followed Legend’s line of sight down to the ground. “Must be an interesting road.”

Legend nodded, looking back at the tracks. “They’re...powerful,” he said, gesturing to them. “They radiate magic, and they feel...Hylian. Like they’re alive.”

Twilight shuddered. “I certainly hope they’re not,” he said, giving Epona a pat. “The last thing I want to worry about is living roads.”

WOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

The Chain jumped in unison at the loud sound, attention forcefully torn from the Spirit Tracks at their feet.

Off in the distance, blurred by a shimmer of heat, a steam-powered machine charged down the tracks at breakneck speed. With a frown, Twilight whipped out his Hawkeye mask to get a better look.

It was HUGE; it had to be at least as tall as three horses standing on top of each other. As it rounded the bend and headed towards them, he got a good look at its segments—a house, a tray, and a cannon?

Twilight squinted, adjusting the mask’s scope. “What in Farore’s name...”

“What is it?” Time asked, raising an eyebrow.

“...Some kind of mechanical caravan.” Twilight concluded after a moment of thought, lowering the mask. “And it’s not stopping. We should move.”

WOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! 

“NOW.”

Quickly, the group got off the tracks, giving them a WIDE distance.

As the steam-powered beast approached, it let out a shrill, screeching noise, causing the heroes to clamp their hands over their ears in pain until it finally rolled to a stop with a pressurized hiss.

Time slowly lowered his hands, shaking off an involuntary shiver at the redead-esque noise. “Everyone alright?”

Hyrule groaned, rubbing his ears sorely. “I think I finally feel bad for DIgdogger...”

“We’re fine,” Four answered. “I’m going to have a headache for the next week and a half, though...”

“Tell me about it...what even WAS that?” Wind asked, scrunching up his eyes as he popped the pressure in his ears.

“‘Hoy!”

The seafarer suddenly snapped to attention at the familiar greeting.

“’Hoy!”

Link leaned out of the engine cab and waved to the band of...soldiers.

They had to be soldiers, right? They had swords and armor. Maybe there was a ceremony or something coming up.

One of the group, a young-looking boy in blue, waved back to him. “‘Hoy, stranger!”

“Everything alright?” Link called. “You look kind of...lost.”

The group looked between each other. “We kind of are,” another one said, a heavily-scarred one with a long ponytail. “Can you tell us where we are?”

“Just west of Whittleton. Where are you trying to go?”

“Hyrule Castle town,” the most heavily armored one replied. “Is it far from here?”

Link looked the group over critically. “...Not really. It’s a 20 minute ride by train. Can I ask who you guys are?”

“An orchestra!” The kid that had initially greeted him exclaimed.

“...An orchestra.”

“Yep!” He pulled out his baton. “See, I’m a conductor, and he’s got a harp, and he’s got an ocarina...”

“What are you playing, then?” Link said, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh-”

“Song of the Hero,” the friendly-looking one in the white cape supplied. “It’s a classic.”

“...Right.” Link held back a sigh, feeling like this was going to be trouble. He could just leave them...

...But this was Bulblin territory. He’d feel bad.

He could just tell the guard captain to be on the lookout once he got to Hyrule Castle. That’d keep them in line, right?

“...Do you guys want a lift?”

The train ride was such a change from walking everywhere. Granted, it had been difficult to convince Epona to climb into the passenger car with them, and Legend was sharing a VERY uncomfortable stare with a fluffle of rabbits gathered at his feet. But, for the vast majority of the heroes, it was a chance to rest their legs and watch the scenery fly by.

And it was incredible.

The only comparable thing Wind had seen in his travels was speeding around on Linebeck’s steamboat, and even that required him to be focused on not running into barrels and sandbars.

This, though? It was smooth. The train ran in a straight line, zooming by acres and acres of land without so much as a bump in the wrong direction, with endless ocean through one side of the car and towering mountains through the other. Thinking fast, he pulled out his pictobox and snapped a few shots as he went along.

When the train made its first stop, the screeching sound was notably more bearable through the barriers of the cabin walls. It still made Hyrule wince, but it was a far cry from the veritable scream they’d had to endure before.

As it finally came to a full stop, the engineer that’d picked them up peered into the cabin. “Nobody get up yet, we’re not here. I’m just picking up some more passengers.”

Time raised an eyebrow. “You do this kind of thing often?”

The stranger gave him a deadpan look. “Nope. Never in my life.” Without another word of explanation, he shut the door.

Time stared after him, taken aback.

Had he just....been sassed?

A moment later, the back door of the cabin opened, and two new passengers entered.

“I told you I could pay fare!”

“Yeah, yeah. Still think we could have saved money.”

They sat in the back seat, bickering quietly and, to Legend’s relief, attracting the fluffle away from him. As the train resumed its travel down the road, he found himself listening in to their conversation.

“-plan once we get there?”

“We start looking. Duh.”

“That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?”

“Look, if someone uses it, we’ll know. It’s not exactly an easy thing to- ...hide.”

Curious at what had made the newcomer trail off, Legend looked back at them over his shoulder.

The redhead—the one who had ended the conversation—was staring at Wild in shock.

The pink-haired one, on the other hand, Legend recognized instantly. His head spun; the Chain had only just gotten the means to time travel themselves, how had the Hytopian guy with the friendship tokens-?!

Feeling Legend’s gaze on him, Fox looked up, unnerved, then froze in shock as he came to the same conclusion Legend did.

I know you. You shouldn’t BE here.

Suddenly, the train heaved, throwing everyone out of their seats. The once-smooth ride came to an abrupt halt as the train derailed, skidding across the raw ground with a terrifying SCREECH before grinding to a halt and tilting precariously. Twilight and Wild both scrambled to grab Epona and brace her as the car finally tipped, landing on its side with a crash.

Silence hung in the air for one brief, panic-laced second.

Then, in an instant, the redheaded stranger shoved his companion out the back door and vaulted over the cabin seats, barreling into Wild and leaping for the front door. As Wild was abruptly yanked out of his daze, he spotted the Sheikah Slate in the thief’s hand before the redhead made his escape.

Fox stared at Taps as he ran outside. “What are you doing?!”

“Shut up, I’m focusing!” Taps said, frantically clicking through the slate. “Where is it, this layout is atrocious-”

“Did you just steal the-”

“He had my control slate!”

“They had SWORDS!”

“So do we!” Taps stopped on a screen, and sighed in relief. “Finally!” With a blue flash, he summoned his Divine Beast, wasting no time in clambering on board. “Come on, get on!”

“But my clothes-”

“HEY!”

The two time travelers looked over as Wild emerged from the train car to shame mankind, eyes blazing with fury as he raced towards them.

Fox squeaked in alarm, quickly leaping onto the Divine Beast and clinging to Taps. “Drive, DRIVE!”

Wild did his best to give chase as the duo sped off, but his mortal Hylian legs couldn’t keep up with the ingenuity of Sheikah technology. Before his very eyes, two complete strangers fled into the distance with his Divine Beast.

Link picked himself up off the ground, clutching his ribs in pain as he raced back towards his toppled train.

He had so many people on board, he had a horse back there. If any of them were hurt—

Without a moment’s thought for himself, he threw the cabin door open. “Is everyone okay?!”

Everyone jolted, reaching for their weapons in panic, when suddenly, there was a yelp of pain from the back seat.

Sky clutched his stung hand as he dropped the Master Sword, staring at the engineer in shock.

“You’re...one of us.”

[toricrypticice]

The Golden Scarred

CHAPTER TWO (Lingering Desolation)

Three days later

Hunter felt hot and sticky. He had woken up feeling more out of it than usual, with a loud ringing in his ears and a sour taste in his mouth. He had attempted to change his bandages but even the slightest touch caused immense pain, almost identical to the night he-..

betrayed Belos.

The panic about the night was an easy excuse to leave the bandages untouched, with the fact that he really didn’t have enough bandages left anyway to wrap himself properly. The last few days hadn’t gone as planned. His body only seemed to hurt more as the days went on, making it hard to fall asleep and impossible to stay asleep. Either way he was completely drained.

Hunter sniffs shivering as he pulls his cloak closer, sweat dripping down under the mask as he walks. He was looking for food again. He had tried to make the sandwich last, he really did but leaving food out in the wild was bound to attract animals. Fighting squirrels for a sad, soggy crust of a sandwich really wasn’t worth it. Hunter had also attempted to go into town to find food but he found it crawling with scouts. Scouts that worked for Belos. Scouts who were posting his wanted scroll everywhere they could. Scouts that would turn him in before he even had a chance to redeem himself. Just the panic of getting caught and having to face Belos after everything he’d done.. Hunter decided it was best to just check the woods and hope for the best. Sure he wouldn’t find any sandwiches again but there at least had to be Slazberries or something right?

He had been walking for a good hour and much to his dismay he hadn’t found anything and another boiling rainstorm was approaching fast. At least that's what his- Er The Palisman told him. Hunter leans against the staff panting softly, his vision blurring and shifting around him. He was severely exhausted. Rascal tweets softly tilting his head causing the male to chuckle softly waving his hand.

“No no I got this.” The Palisman seemed unimpressed before it twitters again, flying up to help look. Hunter suddenly felt more grounded and aware as his eyes widened, his head snapping up. “D-Don't leave!” his voice was slightly desperate as he felt an immense wave of panic in losing his only friend. Hunter bites his tongue shamefully at the sudden outburst. He knew he shouldn’t get attached.

What would Belos think?

Rascal flutters back landing on his shoulder tweeting softly.

And yet Hunter let’s out a breath, relaxing his shoulders. The small bird nuzzles against the males cheek. Maybe he could talk to Belos and convince him otherwise about Palisman? I mean they really weren’t so bad right? Rascal was Hunter's.. Friend after all.

Maybe-

Hunter coughs harshly softly into his hand gritting his teeth.

“I think I hear a trespasser! ooooh! which means more friends for me, oh hoot!” He hears someone hoot happily. Hunter's eyes widened as he gasps slamming his back against a tree to hide feeling his head spin.

Oh Titan.

No one could see him like this!

So uncomposed.

A traitor.

There was no possible way for him to fight like this.

He peers out, narrowing his eyes, his vision slightly distorted and blurry before focusing. He didn't see any guards, odd. He lets out a strangled yell as something suddenly wraps around his leg, pulling him upward causing him to gasp in pain as he falls to the ground easily. Hooty smiles hovering above the male. Hunter grips his side in pain curling in on himself. It was the creature from a few days ago he took note.

“Hiya golden guard!” Hooty had heard so much about the prodigy from Lilith. He was supposedly a spoiled brat and nothing more. Belos’ right hand man. And yet?..

Luz had mentioned she had seen the boy out here in the woods.

Hooty tilts his head confused as he sees the blood stained young male.

Hunter grips his staff growling in pain and now anger, He quickly focuses his energy and zaps a few feet away standing.

“AH!” He shouts loudly as his side suddenly pulses badly from the small exertion. He clenches his teeth, gasping as he almost falls over, his vision blurring badly as he pants tiredly leaning heavily on his staff. Just that small spell alone was enough to exhaust him. So much for not showing his weakness to his foe.

He needed to get out of here, there was no way that he would win this fight. HIs head felt fuzzy and it was getting harder to focus. All he wanted was to sleep.

Hunter glances behind himself as the owl creature starts to move forward.

“Hey Luz will never believe-!” Before the demon could finish Hunter broke into a run away from the area. Lightning cracks overhead and the male gasps looking up to the sky before boiling rain starts to slowly drizzle down.

“NoNoNoNo” Hunter whimpers helplessly as he pants, closing his eyes tightly, his lungs burning. Why did everything have to be against him? Why did he have to end up here? Why did he have to ruin everything? He breaks into a harder run as he hears the creature call for him. No, he needed to get away. Get back to the cave. No one else could see him like this, what would Belos think?!

Just Get back to the cave.

Get back to-

*BAM!*

He slammed into something hard, knocking him back he stumbled before tripping over himself dizzily and finally falling over, wincing as his whole body flares with pain. His head swam slightly making him nauseous. He growls in pain and anger. What had he hit?

“Ow! what the heck?” A whined voice followed by a gasp “Golden Guard”

Hunter blinks back tears as he looks up, seeing none other than Luz the human standing there with a magic shield above her head protecting her from the boiling rain. The human had been walking the woods everyday since she saw the male. She didn’t understand. Why was he here in BonesBurrow to begin with? And why was he hiding in the woods? Had they been watching her? She needed to know.

Hunter's eyes widened.

No.

Anyone but her.

She’s the reason he was in this mess to begin with.

Another wild “witch” using forbidden magic.

He quickly stands almost falling over having to use his staff for support, his vision wavering as his head spins.

“S-Stay back Human!” He slams his staff down in some sort of intimidation although he was struggling to hold his composure. Luz stares in confusion and shock.

There stood the Golden Guard.

Bruised.

Bloody.

Shaking as he held his staff in a tight grip, almost scared.

The rain drips down causing him to hiss lightly. Hunter didn’t have time for this. He grits his teeth before coughing into his hand.

“Are- are you alright? -..What are you doing out here in the woods?” Luz asks softly, standing firm, narrowing her eyes at the male. Hunter takes another step back leaning heavily on his staff, her words seeming to echo. Hunter growls holding a hand to his head. Staying awake seemed to be getting harder and harder as his vision blurs again.

No he mustn't show weakness.

His breathing came out a bit ragged. “Look, let's get out of the rain.” To this Hunter's head snaps up in surprise, the motion making his vision swim. “I can help you” she extends a hand smiling, to which Hunter lets out a loud agitated scoff. He couldn’t trust her. He snaps angrily.

“I don't need your help!” The yell was followed by a loud intake of air as he staggered dropping his staff to which Rascal immediately flitters up tweeting worried. He tries to grab the tree next to him only to fall to the ground with a loud thump, his head slamming on the roots beneath him as his vision darkens. “Mm” he pants, feeling exhaustion start to take over.

He was so tired,

so cold.

His body felt so,

so heavy.

The noises around him seemed to fade.

Would it matter if he just rested for a bit?

He was useless after all.

No longer needed…

No one would notice..

Maybe he could finally-

“EDA!!!!” Hunter's head spun as the shout startled him. He peels his eyes open slightly, hmm had he moved, or rather was he moving? When had he fallen asleep? His vision blurred but he noticed the owl house coming into view feeling sleep start to take over again. No he couldn’t, not around the enemy. He needed to stay awake but no matter how hard he was struggling it wasn’t working. He pushes against the human slightly in a feeble attempt to get away.

Rascal flittered around the Human that held Hunter squawking worried. The Owl Lady runs in from the kitchen. Hunters eyes become too heavy for him and he slowly falls asleep much to his own dismay.

“What happened, did Hooty get into my apple blood again?-” Eda’s eyes widened as she sees Luz holding one of the Coven guards. “Why do you have that?!” Eda yells in distaste. Luz carefully lays the male on the couch, Rascal landing on his shoulder. Hunter groans slightly in his sleep. Luz carefully removed the mask, eyes widening before she quickly looks away gagging. She hadn’t been prepared for that. The young males left eye was almost fully swollen shut, blood stained his face slightly. There were a few scratches and burns on his face. A slash on his nose and a busted lip. But the worst was a giant gash under his eye, the area oozed slightly and was badly bruised.

Owl lady winces at the sight of the young male. “Yikes. King, get the first aid kit!.” There was no answer. Eda sighs heavily running out of the room to find what she needed.

….

When Hunter started to wake up he heard voices all around him, talking in a hushed tone. “Looks...Bad infection…..magic...but..” Only able to get bits and pieces of the conversation. He slowly peels his eyes open letting out an involuntary whine as his eye throbs from the action. He felt sick to his stomach as he shivered, his vision blurring.

“Oh good you're awake.” Luz hums. Hunter sits up almost instantly upon hearing the voice, letting out a loud growl of pain. He holds his side as it flares distressfully. “Hey be careful” she lays a hand on his shoulder to which Hunter flinches back slightly before glaring her down.

“I'm fine! Why am I here?” Hunter demanded angrily, his eye throbbing at the stress as he swats her hand away annoyed. His head still swam slightly thumping with every word. He remembered trying to run away, he didn't remember agreeing to come to the Owl House.

“Hey I’m just trying to help you” Luz snaps back slightly, frowning as she rubs her hand before pouting at the young males stubbornness. She had so many questions and by the looks of it none of them were going to be answered.

“Last time I checked I didn't ask for your help!” He retorts, breathing a bit heavily as he stands, a few beats of sweat dripping down his face. He felt dizzy and still rather tired but there was no way he could stay here. Luz frowns angry now, she says something under her breath in Spanish about stubbornness as she clenches her fists slightly before she lets out a sigh trying again.

“Look Hunter please you aren't well” Luz tries her tone trying to stay sweet but Hunter can sense her slight agitation with him. He had always been good at reading other people. Working for Belos over the years will do that to you. He always had to make sure to know exactly what to say and what not to say in front of the male. He wasn’t welcome there. He wasn’t welcome here either. It seemed he wasn’t really welcome anywhere.

“I’m doing just fine.” Hunter grumbles as he starts to open the door, clenching his teeth, feeling his legs wobble as he holds his side. Luz huffs loudly, the other witch couldn’t take care of himself clearly by the looks of it.

“Let us help you!” She grabs his wrist quickly to keep him from leaving but what Luz doesn’t expect is for the soft pitiful whimper to leave the male as he flinches back badly. The male to sharply turn around and back against the door in an attempt to get away from the female. The once great Golden Guards shoulders to suddenly start to shake as it slowly became impossible for him to catch his breath. Luz’ eyes widen and she let’s go quickly, her eyebrows furrow worried. “..Hunter?” She whispers softly not wanting to scare him worse. Hunter moves back quickly looking like a deer in the headlights, his back slamming against the door harshly as he shuts his eyes tightly. His body was shaking slightly as he pants a bit heavily.

Hunter could hear his heart racing and he felt like he couldn't breath. His hand moved to his chest as his heart pounded and he pants.

No no he couldn’t panic!!

not here!

not now!

And especially NOT in front of the human!!!

God did he have to be so!

so..

Weak!

Hunter chokes as he tries to breathe, tears starting to blur his vision, his hand gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly.

WEAK…

So useless!!

So—

“Oh how you disappoint me Hunter... “

Belos' voice echoed in his being. Hunter gasps loudly, wheezing as his eyes widen in a panic upon hearing the males voice.A few tears finally escaping his barrier and dripping down his cheeks. Luz watched as the Golden Guard lost all of his composure, seemingly trying to catch his breath as he shook. He looked terrified as he lets out a pained whimper. Luz couldn’t help but stare for a moment, stunned. Hunter looked… like a frail child. Nothing like how she had ever seen him. She sighs, slowly reaching out to which Hunter immediately recoils, putting his hands up shakily blocking his face, desperately pleading in terror as he sees his Uncle advance towards him.

“No No p-please I'm sorry Uncle! i-I can do better please i-!”

Luz gasps a bit softly in surprise. She’d never seen the male in such a state, she hesitates before putting her hand gently on his shoulder. Hunter inhaled sharply, eyes wide as he freezes looking up at the concerned human slowly starting to realize where he was and what just happened. He catches his breath steadily. The gentle physical touch being enough to bring him down from his panic.

“R-Right…” he breathes out looking down, embarrassed and angry at himself “a-another episode” his voice wavers as he blushes laughing nervously. Only having had a panic attack like this once before.. And let’s just say Belos was not happy and it did not help the situation he had been in.

Rascal tweets moving to the young males shoulder. Hunter gasps in surprise, before slowly smiling sadly at the small bird, carefully petting the Palisman. “s-sorry it won’t happen again” He sighs, keeping his eyes down as he apologies to the Human. This only made Luz more worried. “Just let me leave, it’s best for everyone” He felt so stupid having cried in front of Luz.

How Pathetic..

Hunter wipes his face as sweat slides down into his facial cut causing him to wince. He couldn’t help but wonder why the owl house was so hot anyway. He wanted to get back to the cool cave again.

“Hunter what happened to you?” Luz asks suddenly, to which Hunter's eyes widen slightly glancing up before looking quickly back at Rascal.

. “I-“ Hunter starts before going quiet biting his lip as he rubs his arm uncomfortably. He was embarrassed about everything but the human was bound to find out anyway, right? He sighs defeated.

“I messed up..

Ruined everything that I had- I just ..” he pauses looking angry “ I screwed up!” he snaps as he takes the wanted poster from his pocket practically throwing the crumbled piece of paper at the human feeling dizzy, he grabs the door for support. Rascal flies up tweeting anxiously. Hunter sighs heavily “I tampered with forbidden sources. I lied. I spoke out of turn. I failed the Emperor and when you fail. Well. you outlive your usefulness, although he does want me alive which means maybe i still have a chance to redeem myself” he couldn't help but laugh painfully as he shrugs “But anyway just do what I assume you will. Turn me in and -“ Hunter stops as Luz stomps her foot

“Belos in such a monster!”. Hunter flinches at Luz’ sudden anger in slight shock looking almost worried before he shakes his head at himself.

“Wait-What? No- no I failed, it's my c-consequence he’s just doing his job. Belos is a great emperor. If I hadn’t tampered with wild magic none of this would have-” Hunter was cut off by a loud scoff from the doorway

“Kid that dictator is no hero” Eda frowns sadly rolling her eyes. Hunter looks over wanting to argue but he doesn’t, this was Eda the owl lady after all. And anyway Belos was just a merciless man that's all… right?.

Yeah.

This was normal.

Hunter screwed up and needed to be punished. All normal parent and kid things.

And yet his mind wandered back to the night.

When Belos attacked him.

When he had tried to..

Hunter's hand moves to his abdomen to where he was struck as he looks a bit distant.

“N-no but he-..he cares” Hunter's voice was angry and didn't sound all too convincing. He steps back stumbling feeling a bit hot, “uncle just, just-” his uncle's icy stare flashed in his mind. Hunter shudders slightly looking down before he nods, sighing. “Right.. right ”

he was nothing to his uncle now..

He would have to redeem himself all over again to be in his uncles favor,

“It’ll be okay” Luz’ voice was soft as she started to guide him back to the couch, noticing him stumble slightly trying not to use her for support. “You have a place here for now” she offers

“I don’t want a place here” Hunter mumbles in annoyance to which Luz pouts.

Hunter sighs, leaning back on the couch with a frown looking away. His body felt a bit numb and sore all at the same time. He was tired, so tired. He notices Eda point to the kitchen causing Luz to sigh standing.

“I’ll get you some food while Eda takes a look at your wounds” Luz smiles, humming as she claps her hands.

“Wait what?” Hunter nervously glances at the Owl Lady gulping.

[let-me-write-shit]

Hey! Idk if u r taking requests hint if you are, can u do one where harry+y/n+bby paxton are out and about but all the sudden get swarmed by paps and then one of the cameras accidentally hit the baby and the clip goes viral and celebs and ex-1D members and stans all start coming to the defense and share stories about how awful the paps are? U don’t have to haha

A/N: Thank you so much, @gwen-and-harry, for this request! I’m sorry it took so long! Hope this is alright!

Word Count: 5,227

Requests are OPEN! If you have a request for a blurb, oneshot, imagine, whatever, Send me a message HERE!!!

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CLICK HERE TO READ OTHER COMPLETED STORIES

Friendly reminder to please like and/or reblog. It helps more than you think :)

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Paparazzi

The outpour of love and well-wishes after the announcement of the birth of their firstborn son was touching and comforting. Harry and Y/N were lucky to be surrounded by so many wonderful people. Still, the eagerness of the public to get the first glimpse of the newborn and the new parents began to grow. No one had seen the couple out since before their son was born and Paxton was nearly three months old, now. People were becoming desperate.

There were more and more fans outside of their house as the days passed. Y/N and Harry had people running errands for them and luckily had the help of friends and family, as well, who would stick around for a few days at a time to give them little breaks and were more than happy to get some time with the happy baby. But as the sun stayed out longer and the temperature began to rise, the new family felt the yearning for a nice summer holiday.

They’d planned it for weeks, excited to take pictures and videos of Paxton’s first time at the beach. Harry had found a perfect house with a private beach off the coast of Italy and even decided to bring along security. And even though he didn’t do it often, he thought the circumstances warranted renting a private plane to take them to the beautiful country.

Harry and Y/N were very cautious in showing any images of their baby. No one, aside from close friends and family, even knew of his name. Having been the victims of stalking, they didn’t want their son to be subjected to that and tried everything in their power to protect their child. There were brief moments when it was typical for it to be vacant outside their home, so they planned their escape down to the minute; bags loaded in the car from the night before, and two security guards standing by to rush them to the car.

Paxton was already buckled into his infant car seat and kicking along, happily, as Y/N cooed at him, dangling toys and pinching his chubby legs while Harry peered out of the window, waiting until the coast was clear. She noticed her husband straighten up more just before the security guard said, “Let’s go.”

Harry hoisted the brown leather diaper bag further up his shoulders and tossed a muslin blanket over the top of the car seat to cover Paxton, just in case anyone happened to see them. He took hold of the car seat and carried his baby out to the car as swiftly as he could while Y/N followed closely behind him. It took two minutes for everyone to get settled in and pull out of the driveway before they felt like they could breathe a sigh of relief.

Y/N and Harry shared a look of burden. The lengths they had to take just to keep a bit of privacy and normalcy was insane. And still, they weren’t out of the woods yet. Although they were flying privately, they still needed to drive to the main airport where their plane would depart from a strip off to the side. Everything seemed to be alright, so far. Usually, Harry could tell if it were going to be crazy if there were cars of fans chasing them, and that was not the case, so he let his guard down.

But, as they approached the backup in the car queue through the airport terminals, they slowly came to realize that this wasn’t going to be as easy as they anticipated. They were at a standstill for over ten minutes, unmoving, with cars honking loudly around them. It seemed that there was roadwork on a few of the lanes ahead that caused a jam. Quickly, they had to make a decision that they didn’t miss check-in with their pilot.

After much deliberation, they decided that the only solution would be that Harry, Y/N, and their baby would have to walk down the strip accompanied by one of the security guards while the other security guard continued with the car and would eventually meet them at the plane with all of their luggage. Y/N couldn’t stay stuck in traffic, her claustrophobia was already starting to make her panic. The fresh air would do them all some good, and besides, there weren’t an overwhelming amount of people walking along outside. Most people were in a rush to get in. They thought they’d be able to handle it.

Poor Paxton was fast asleep, but it was a pretty far distance to be lugging a heavy car seat while trying to walk as quickly and discreetly as possible down the sidewalk to reach the end where their terminal would be. At least by carrying him, if someone did recognize them, they’d be able to shield their son better.

Gently, Harry unfastened the buckles from Paxton’s car seat and slipped him out, passing him over to Y/N without waking him. It was warm out, but Y/N made sure to wrap Paxton loosely in the thin muslin cloth and cover his face enough so that he could breathe well against her chest, but his face couldn’t be seen. The couple made sure to wear their sunglasses and Harry took hold of the leather diaper bag before the security guard jumped out and opened the door for them.

Quickly, they started making their way down the sidewalk, heads down to not call attention to themselves, and following their security guard’s strides who was barely a step ahead of them. Horns blared and echoed around them, stuffy fumes from car engines congested the area. For a moment, Harry thought they might actually get through unrecognized. But that quickly came to prove wrong.

It always started as just a feeling of being watched before turning into a slightly louder buzzing as people, wondering if it was really him, began to mutter. This then turned into a few shouts and calls. He ignored the first few calls until he realized that too many people started to notice. He turned, smiled, and waved at them as he continued. This usually satisfied fans enough to not follow him. But then he saw it. The cluster of cameras. Paparazzi.

They looked shocked to see him, at first. He guessed they were likely here for someone else at first and he was just a bonus. Just his luck. The security guard tightened his gap and Y/N felt a hand on the middle of her back as Harry protectively pushed her along so they could keep moving faster. Still, they were already halfway there and it wasn’t more than they were used to.

However, more people became increasingly aware that not only was Harry Styles there, but also his wife and newborn baby. Harry always had a good relationship with the paparazzi, but the incitement to get the first look at their son was causing them to swarm the new parents.

“Harry, how does it feel to be a dad?”

“What’s your son’s name?”

“Where are you headed?”

“Harry, does he look just like you?”

“Can we see?”

The questions were never-ending and almost too hard to hear as everyone talked at once. Surrounded by not only paparazzi but also curious fans, it became harder to move. Their security guard did his best to keep everyone at bay and to keep moving forward, but it soon became too crowded to move. Y/N held her baby closer to her chest as he began to wriggle and squirm from all the noise, sharing a brief look of concern with Harry who tried his best to remain calm and friendly while also trying to make way for his family out of the ring of paps that surrounded them who became more aggressive with their questions, closing in on them.

Cameras started bumping together, voices became louder, and the paparazzi began to shove each other, fighting to get closer to the celeb. Some fans began to notice how reckless they were becoming and started to yell at paparazzi along with the security guard who was still trying to push through to make room for them, only inching their way forward now.

“Back up, they have a baby!” a few girls screams were muffled behind the shouts of the paps.

Paxton was wiggling more now and started to whimper as Y/N and her husband were being yelled at in all directions. Y/N could feel paps nudging her back, getting too close for comfort. When the security guard noticed, he’d yell at them, but there wasn’t much he could do. He was only one person against dozens of others. Her claustrophobia was in full swing and her heart began racing, breath becoming more of a pant. She felt a tug on her shirt followed by a deep voice beckoning, “Come on, let us get a look at the happy family.” They had gotten bolder in touching her purposefully.

Y/N spun around, “Please don’t touch me,” she yelped.

Lights started to flash in her face and she felt a hand tug at the muslin cloth that was protecting her son. Instinctively she swatted at the hand and pulled her son in tighter, shouting, “Don’t touch him!”

Harry turned, protectively shielding his wife and son, urging her in front of him, fans still yelling as another pap shoved his camera in between them so hard that he managed to whack the top of Paxton’s head with his flash attachment, causing the baby to flail and burst into wails, sobbing into Y/N’s chest at an ear-piercing level.

Before Y/N of the security guard could even react, Harry leaped at the pap, shoving him backward, and began screaming at him so ferociously that it created a momentary standstill. No one had ever seen Harry so angry before.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, eh?! That’s my baby, you fuckin’ dickhead!” Harry’s accent became thick with rage, shoving the startled man’s chest which made him back away.

“I didn’t do anything! I didn’t do anything!” the pap could be heard saying, shrinking away.

A few other paparazzi were taking the side of the pap and snapping pictures and videos of the incident while most yelled along with Harry as well as fans. Harry kept at him, screaming even louder and angrier, “You smashed my sons head with your fuckin’ piece of shit camera,” he yanked the camera out of the pap’s hands and chucked it to the ground, a few pieces breaking off and sliding every which way, continuing to shove the pap back while the security guard tried his hardest to contain the situation and get people to back off.

“Harry! Please!” Y/N cried, her heart pounding in panic and on the verge of tears.

Harry was seething, glaring at the pap who had backed away, nervously, before the awareness that Harry was surrounded by people, most with their phones out, started to sink in. The crowd had given them some more space now, and he looked back to see the concern on his wife’s face as she bounced and patted the back of their crying son in her arms in an attempt to console him.

With one last scowl at the offender, Harry hissed, “Don’t come near my family again.”

He picked up the brown leather diaper bag off of the ground; he must have dropped it during his fit. Hiking it back up his shoulders, he wrapped an arm around Y/N’s waist as the security guard led them away from the crowd, fans calling their support after them and continuing to yell at the paparazzi.

The rest of the walk was silent, still too rattled by the situation to find the words to say. By the time they reached and boarded the plane, Paxton had fallen back asleep and it didn’t take long for their other security guard to reach them.Should have just stayed in the car, Y/N thought, getting settled in a seat with her son, She loosened the muslin blanket around his face, but not too much to disturb his sleep. Harry stayed towards the front of the plane, barely out of earshot, to talk to the security after their belongings were loaded.

A few minutes in, Harry could be heard raising his voice at them, angry about how the situation was handled. Y/N winced, trying not to listen in as she kept her attention down at her son who was suckling on the inside of his cheeks as he slept. It was almost time to feed him, but Harry still had the diaper bag. She felt bad for the security, there wasn’t much they could do, and she knew Harry was only yelling because he was upset that his son was in danger. It wasn’t like Harry to take things out on other people, but he had become increasingly protective since becoming a dad.

Moments later, Harry and the two security guards made their way back, and although Harry still looked tense, Y/N could tell that they had talked things out and was willing to bet that Harry apologized to them, too. It still didn’t make her husband any less angry. He plopped in the seat beside his wife with an exaggerated sigh and leaned over to get a good look at his sin, gently pushing the muslin cloth away as he ran his hand over the baby’s soft, fuzzy head. A splotch of raised red skin could be seen forming from where the camera had hit him.

Y/N snapped her attention to her husband and saw the distress stretch across his face and with an overwhelmed frown he said, “I better take a picture of this. Just in case,” and he pulled his phone out from his pocket.

She knew what he meant. Just in case that pap wanted to press charges for destruction of property or assault. If he did decide to press charges, there’s no way he would win. There’s more than enough photographic and video evidence of the assault on their baby. But over the years they had learned that they could never be too careful.

He shoved his phone back in his pocket, and the pilot and flight attendant introduced themselves, checked ID, and went over safety procedures before the plane started down the runway. Harry stared down at his son the entire time, not letting go of his tiny hand that was wrapped around his middle finger. Y/N knew how worried he was feeling, and with an understanding smile, she carefully passed him their baby.

She grinned as Harry shushed him back to sleep when he began stirring, stroking his cheeks in total adoration of the little boy he held in his arms. His heart ached as he caressed the red splotch at the crown of the baby’s head, angry that grown adults would act in such a way, especially in the presence of a child.

“Do you think we should get a doctor to look at him?” he asked as their plane ascended.

Y/N nodded her head, “I think he’s fine but better safe than sorry. We’ll take care of it tomorrow. I think we all need to relax when we get there. It’s been a long morning.”

It wasn’t a long flight to Italy, but it wasn’t calming, either. Y/N fed Paxton while Harry fretted about the flurry of texts and missed calls he was bound to have by his managers, PR, and legal team, certain that videos and pictures will have been released by then. And just like he predicted, they landed to nearly thirty missed messages of all sorts, including links to articles titled, ‘Harry Styles Attacks Paparazzi Outside of London Airport’. They couldn’t bring themselves to open or read any of it, but Harry did spend a majority of their nearly thirty-minute car journey on a conference call with his team talking about the situation and discussing ways with which they could handle it.

Harry cut in after a while, saying, “Alright, listen. I’ve got to go. I’m supposed to be on holiday with my family. Can someone please make an appointment with a doctor out here to look at my son tomorrow and text me the details? We’ll talk about this another time.”

Harry wasn’t assertive a lot, but when he was, it always turned Y/N on. She kissed his cheek with a grin as he hung up the phone and squeezed his hand. His mom and sister were one of the many who had texted them after seeing the news and they made a quick FaceTime call to them, venting about the encounter and reassuring them that Paxton was fine, showing them the sweet baby’s face when they finally pulled up to the vacation rental and ended the call.

It was just after noon when they arrived at the house, and instead of unpacking, everyone left their luggage by the front door and took the food they had picked up from a drive-thru on the patio by the pool where they overlooked a beautiful, private beach lined with white sand and water the most beautiful shade of blue. Harry bounced a cooing baby on his lap while they ate. The couple silenced their phones, trying their hardest to avoid the onslaught of calls and messages they were bound to receive.

After lunch, everyone finally put their things away, got changed into their bathing suits, and headed to the pool for their first swim of the year. For just a few hours the coupe was able to forget about the inevitable problem they were facing and enjoyed their time together as a family.

Paxton seemed to enjoy the water once he warmed up to it, screeching joyfully and splashing at the surface while mummy and daddy took turns holding him and pushing him in the inflatable raft they brought. They laughed at the baby boy’s reaction to getting water droplets on his face and all the noises that escaped his tiny lips.

They stayed in the pool until nightfall when they wrapped themselves in towels and sat around the fire pit to keep warm while one of the security guards left to pick up dinner for everyone. Normally, Harry would feel bad for having someone else get him food, but given the circumstances, he felt it was for the best.

He looked over at his wife, her eyes red and irritated from the chlorine, and the high points of her face sunkissed from the warm, Italian sun. Her hair was slicked back, though that didn’t stop Paxton from getting a hold of a chunk of her hair and tugging as she fed him. Harry’s smile started to face into a frown when he noticed the red splotch on the crown of his son’s head was not tinged a blue-ish purple. It had started to bruise.

Y/N noticed her husband’s silence, and with an understanding and reassuring squeeze to his hand, she softly said, “He’s okay, Bub. Just a little sore when you touch it, but still a happy boy.”

“I know,” he nodded, “Still pisses me off that it even happened, though. I should go see if anyone was able to make an appointment for him, yet.”

He ambled off inside to find his phone that he left on the nightstand, ignoring all of his notifications and going right to his assistant’s texts to see the information of the doctor that was kind enough to agree to come to them tomorrow morning and take a look at Paxton. He did a quick background search on the doctor, pleased to find that she had come highly trained and recommended, and he sighed a breath of relief.

He then decided to take a look at some of these notifications, a little worried about the backlash he might have received. But, he was surprised to see the response of support and even shocked by some of the names that had reached out to him or spoke up about the fight.

The first people he noticed were his mom and sister who both made and shared an Instagram text post that read, ‘There is a lot that you have to deal with and compromise on when you have a fanbase or a following, and one of those things is privacy. It’s something so many of us take for granted, and so far, Harry and his lovely wife have taken it in stride, rarely complaining. They’re aware, just like the rest of us, that being a ‘celebrity’ and the lack of privacy in his line of work is an unfortunate given. However, when the safety and privacy of a newborn child are at risk, this type of behavior can become extremely dangerous. There is a time and place for paparazzi, and hurting a child to get a few snapshots is deplorable. Change needs to happen’. In the caption of the photo, there was a petition link that called for adjustments on laws when it came to paparazzi and children.

A lump formed in Harry’s throat as he read, reliving the moment his son had gotten hurt a mere few hours ago. There was so much running through his head. He felt like an idiot for losing his temper, he should have known not to lash out like that, especially when there were so many cameras out. He was pissed that the paparazzi put him in a situation where he felt like lashing out was his only option. He was upset that he couldn’t enjoy their first vacation as a family with their new baby because he was too worried that people might spot him. He was scared for the future of his son, worried that he’d have to look over his shoulder every step of the way to make sure his son could have even just a shot at living a semi-normal life. And he was grateful for the support of his family and for them speaking out and trying to invoke change.

As he scrolled through his notifications more, he saw that Lizzo had also posted a video to Instagram and tagged him in it. He played the video and chuckled, feeling comforted, when her face popped on the screen, shouting, “If y'all don’t leave my baby daddy, Harry, and my sister-wife, Y/N, alone! They had a baby with them! Like this child is basically straight out the womb, and y’all sick motherfuckers are out here grabbin’ on ‘em just to try and take a picture?! A picture?!” she looked disgusted as she shook her head, “These paparazzi are getting bolder every day. This shit needs to stop. I need each and every one of you to click the link on my bio. Things need to change. Yesterday.”

He went to her page and saw the same link that Gemma and his mom had posted to their story. And that wasn’t all. As he continued to go through his notifications, he saw that he had been tagged onto one of Niall’s tweets a ton. He opened the link to see what Niall had written.

‘Absolutely disgusted to see what happened to my friend @Harry_Styles, his lovely wife @Y/N, and their little lad today. Truly criminal that these paparazzi can do things like this with little to no repercussion. I’m so sorry the two of ya had to go through that. Absolutely fuming for ya.’

With a tight-lipped grin, Harry nodded and made a mental note to text Niall later and thank him. For now, he pocketed his phone and rejoined his wife outside who had just finished feeding Paxton and putting him in a portable rocker beside her to nap, her feet propped up by the edge of the fire, wiggling her toes in the warmth. He kissed her forehead before taking his seat on the other side of her, informing her of the response, so far, of the day’s events.

Throughout the week, more and more people had started to speak up. The doctor had come around to take a once-over of Baby Styles, deeming him healthy, just bruised, and leaving them to enjoy their vacation, utterly astonished by the number of people who had spoken out to condemn the paparazzi and share their experience.

Louis had called him shortly after the doctor had left while they were on the beach. Paxton was screeching on his tummy, holding his head up and beating his chubby fists into the sand. Harry watched his wife smiling and clacking at her baby, completely smitten by the two of them, as he and Louis caught up. The last time they talked was when Louis congratulated them on the birth of his son. This time, Louis called to make sure they were doing alright. Harry was still trending online and, being a father himself, he knew how upsetting it was when your kid was brought up in the media. Especially when they had to deal with the repercussions of the paparazzi.

“Man, it just blows my mind the shit these low-lives can get away with. Please tell me you’re gonna press charges, mate,” Louis seared.

Harry groaned, “I don’t think I can, mate. I broke his camera and shoved him. We’re pretty much even.”

“Even?” Louis repeated, “Mate, he hurt a baby. He’s done much worse than you did!”

“Not according to the law, man. Not really. Besides, he’s fine. Just a bruise, thank God. Was more worried about, Y/N, if I’m honest,” he whispered, trying not to let his wife hear, “You should have seen her. Thought she was going to have a panic attack because of her claustrophobia.”

Louis tutted and sighed, “Poor lass. She's alright now, though, yeah?”

“We’re on the beach, so she couldn’t be happier,” Harry laughed, watching as Paxton gazed in awe at the little sandcastle Y/N had just made.

They had received texts from friends, like Mitch and Sarah, who made sure that they and the baby were alright as well as posted a link to the petition. Big-name celebrities with kids, like Chrissy Teigen and John Legend, as well as Hilary Duff and Matthew Koma, had also come forward in light of the issue to share their experiences of being paparazzi’d with kids. He’d never had the pleasure of meeting them, but was sure to send them messages of thanks.

Ariana Grande had tweeted ‘Sending my love to the Styles Family. It’s scary when you can’t walk down the street with a newborn without being harassed. Please sign the petition to finally start holding those who cross the line accountable.’

Liam Payne texted Harry and mentioned it in one of his Instagram Live videos when asked by fans saying, “Yeah, I spoke to him. Apparently, the guy had bruised the poor baby’s head, but he’s doing alright. They’re a bit shaken by the whole thing, I don’t blame them. It’s-It’s just sad, you know? For all the years I’ve known Harry, he’s the last one to get rattled to the point of fighting someone I’ve met Y/N a few times and well and she was always kind and easy-going. But when you’re worried about the safety of your wife and child, I don’t think anyone could say they’d just sit back and take it. You’ve got to draw the line somewhere.”

James Corden dedicated a segment in his show talking about the dangers of paparazzi and his own experiences with being harassed, including the time he was out with his son, and Harry joined them.

“To see, very early on in his career, the amount of people that followed his every step- I mean, he was only with us for a couple of hours and it got so crazy that after thirty minutes I had to have Harry walk a bit ahead of us so that the paparazzi wouldn’t swarm my son. By the end of the day, we were exhausted. I can’t even imagine having to deal with that daily. I know how I felt about it at the time and my son was older. We were a bit more comfortable as parents. But these two have their first, brand new baby. The idea of leaving your house for the first time as new parents and being hounded by volatile people who have no care for anyone but themselves is terrifying. My heart goes out to him and his family,” he finished.

Dozens more came out of the gate to condemn careless paparazzi, but probably the most surprising of them all was Gigi Hadid.

It was no secret that Harry and the model had a strained relationship that dated back to the drama surrounding Zayn’s departure from One Direction. The two never really cared to get to know one another and there was always some unsaid animosity in between them for whatever reason. He never had anything against her. Still, it was there. So, when she spoke out in defense of Harry’s actions, it was in headlines everywhere.

Gigi was very vocal about it on all of her social media platforms, writing rants on Twitter, text posts on Instagram, and even making videos saying, “You know, it’s just disgusting how celebrities can be stalked and harassed every single day by people like these paparazzi and the response is always ‘well, that’s what you signed up for’. It never made sense to me. Like, why is it considered normal? Why does it have to ‘come with the territory?’ These celebrities didn’t sign up to have their lives picked through with a fine-tooth comb. Especially not their spouses or children. They don’t deserve to be harassed or stalked just because of who they fell in love with or made a family with. A lot of people forget that celebrities are just humans.

We’re normal people with abnormal jobs. My job is to model. Harry’s job is to sing. We shouldn’t be in fear to step out of our house that day, afraid of being stalked or our children being hit in the heads with fucking cameras. I’m no stranger to how dangerous and scary paps can be, and since becoming a mom myself, I’m even more cautious. We hardly leave our house. We have so much security it’s unreal. We shouldn’t have to live like this.

Having fans come up to us in the streets and saying hi or taking pictures with us is one thing, but to have these paps shoving their camera in a child’s face, blocking our way out, and endangering them is something else entirely. Paparazzi need to be held to a higher standard and they need to be held accountable. I really feel for them.”

By the end of their vacation, there was so much positive support from fans and other celebs that Harry and Y/N was feeling overwhelmed with love. They both reached out, personally and privately, to as many people as they could to thank them for speaking out and signing the petition. Their team decided that a simple response, in true Harry fashion, would be best. On Instagram, he posted a picture of Paxton’s sandy feet and captioned it,

‘All Is Well. Thank you. With Love, H.’

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

Taglist:

@odetostep @mylittleangel9403 @thurhomish @fallingfordolans @gwen-and-harry

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 6,377 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria Warnings: Language, violence, gore, death, sexuality, nudity, typical TWD A/N: I didn't do nearly as many read-throughs with this one so there are probably typos. And this part was getting HELLA long, so I ended up cutting it in a different place buuuuut that means you'll probably get the next chapter a little sooner! A/N: This is part of a series! Find the previous parts on the Masterlist! Summary: The communities strike at The Saviors.

Your name: submit What is this?

“Everybody knows what they’re supposed to do?” Rick glanced around one final time at all of you gathered together. The air was tense and silent. He nodded. “Alright. Then let’s get this done.”

The crowd broke up a little chaotically as everyone headed to their positions. You watched with some apprehension, wondering just who was leaving now and wouldn’t return… Your reverie was broken by Aaron who ran up and grabbed you into a tight hug. Eric appeared shortly after.

“You be safe,” Aaron said, squeezing you tight. You wrapped your arms around him and returned it, shutting your eyes and hugging him back extra tight.

“You too. Both of you.”

Eric grabbed you next and seemed to give you an extra-long squeeze. “Go be your badass self, okay?” he said as he finally broke apart from you. “And we’ll see you back at home.” You nodded and gave his shoulder one last affectionate pat.

“Take care of each other,” you said, drinking in the sight of the two of them, your brow furrowed with worry.

They nodded earnestly and you exchanged a few more words of parting before they headed to their assigned cars. You watched them climb in, your stomach turning with anxiety.

You felt gentle fingers on your lower back and knew immediately that it was Daryl. You spun to face him and your worried expression was reflected on his face. “This is it,” he drawled.

“Yep,” you agreed with a nod.

Daryl chewed on his bottom lip. “Wish we didn’t have to be apart for it,” he said quietly.

“I know. Me too. But we both have to play our roles, right? We’ve got jobs to do.”

He nodded before glancing around briefly and grabbing your hand. “C’mere,” he said, tugging you a little way away from the crowd to a more secluded spot. When he spun around again to look at you, you could truly see in his blue eyes how uneasy he was. He clasped your face and drank in the sight of you, trying to draw strength from the way you were looking up at him. He pulled you in against him with the other hand, light on your lower back. He gave you a pointed look. “I’ll see ya after,” he said vehemently.

You nodded again, gulping at the tightness in your throat. “After.”

Daryl leaned down and heatedly pressed his lips to yours, setting you ablaze. His tongue flicked across your lower lip and you parted yours to allow entrance for him, kissing him back feverishly, your arms looped around his neck as you arched into him. When Daryl’s lips finally softened, he didn’t pull away completely. You both were out of breath and off-balance from that kiss and he pressed his forehead to yours, his eyes shut, just breathing you in for a moment longer, feeling you solid beneath his hands.

His blue eyes finally opened and met yours again and now he felt braver, stronger.

“Daryl,” you said, not meaning for it to come out in a whisper but it did. “I love you.” Your eyes flickered between his.

He couldn’t help how his lips curved into a small smile when you said that, every time. He clasped your face again in both hands, looking deeply into your eyes, memorizing the flecks of color. “I love ya, too.” He’d gotten better at hearing it and at saying it. He pressed one more urgent kiss to your lips and then laced his fingers with yours. The two of you headed back out to depart for battle.

Rosita strode over and held her hand out to you for a fist bump. “Ready, chica?” she asked.

You nodded and gave her a small smile as you bumped her fist with yours. You had your game face on now. Any trace of worry or fear in your expression was gone. “Let’s do it.”

“Hey—ya watch out for each other, alright?” Daryl said to both of you.

“We’ve got this,” Rosita said. “Don’t worry.”

Daryl nodded and gave you one last look before heading to his bike.

You caught Rosita’s eyes. “Alright. Let’s go.”

Soon you were behind the wheel in the vehicle with Rosita riding shotgun and all the supplies loaded in back.

“Alright, let’s run through it again,” you said, clutching the steering wheel much harder than necessary.

Rosita laughed a little dryly. “We’ve been through it a hundred times!”

“I know, but—it calms me down,” you muttered, glancing over at her.

She gave you a knowing look and nodded. “I know. Okay. We set the charges—all ten—main highway and the side roads that would lead to Alexandria. Then, we get the hell out of Dodge before any potential Saviors come our way and hopefully get blown to pieces... You drop me to rendezvous with Carol and you head for clean-up duty and assistance at the outpost. After, everyone meets back at Hilltop.”

You let out a forced exhale. “Okay. Okay. We’ve got this.”

You pulled over as you arrived at the first spot you were going to wire up and both of you hopped out to grab the devices you’d built. They’d trigger if something heavy enough, like a vehicle, tripped the pressure hose you laid across the road. By the time you had them assembled and armed you were already dripping with sweat. Rosita looked about the same as you climbed back into the SUV.

You wiped a hand across your brow and glanced over at her. “One down,” you said.

“Nine to go,” she said, clicking her seatbelt and let out a nervous breath. She glanced back at the supplies stacked in the back. “Can’t believe we’re finally doing this. About damn time,” she said. “That bastard and all his assholes deserve to pay for everything they’ve done.”

You felt her eyes on your face and glanced over.

“I just want you to know that you’re one of us. Family. Totally and completely,” she said.

Despite the situation, you couldn’t help but smile at her. “Thanks. Feel like we won the lottery with Aaron finding all of you,” you replied.

“Especially, Daryl, right?” she said knowingly, laughing at your expression.

You could feel your cheeks burning with a blush. “Shut up,” you said, rolling your eyes at her and turned them back to the road.

“You’re really good for him though, you know. In all seriousness.” Rosita watched as you just chewed on your bottom lip a bit nervously. “I’ve never seen him so happy. And that’s even with us all being right in the middle of this goddamn shitstorm.”

“Well… I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy either,” you said, feeling your cheeks redden again. You cleared your throat and laughed a little bashfully. “Alright, enough distracting me. I’m trying to keep my game face on. We’re almost at the next point,” you said, slowing the vehicle. You and Rosita repeated your set-up at all the assigned locations. At the last one she extended a fist to you again and you happily bumped it.

“See you back home,” she said. “Be careful.”

“I will.” You waved and were turning away to move your gun onto the center console when you felt a tap on your shoulder and turned to see Carol behind you. “Everything alright?” you asked her. Rosita was waiting by Carol’s vehicle.

Carol grabbed you into a hug and you let out a small surprised noise. “Oh—th—thanks,” you said, managing to hug her back.

She gave you a fond look when she pulled back. “Come back in one piece, alright? If something happens to you—Daryl—”

“Hey. You, too,” you said seriously. “But nothing is happening to any of us, Right?”

Carol simply nodded, still looking apprehensive, and rushed back to Rosita and her vehicle to take off to their next position. You forced out an exhale as they sped off and climbed back into the SUV. Alone.

You were feeling extra anxious now. It was agonizing without any way to keep contact with everyone and you kept having flashes of almost overwhelming worry. Enough time had passed that everyone would be in the thick of things and if things were going to go sideways, they almost certainly had by now… But the revving and hum of the engine was somehow comforting as you sped toward your next location. Your plan was to a help at the spot where Aaron and Eric would be with a big group, clearing out an outpost. You had some other homemade IEDs in the back in case they were needed, but mostly you just wanted to be another gun and set of eyes.

You pushed the gas pedal down to the floor as you cruised down the highway. You were making good time when you suddenly felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. You squinted up ahead and could see some obstacle in the road. You pressed your foot to the brake to slow a little, and eventually you could finally make out that it was an unfamiliar vehicle almost completely blocking both lanes. you noticed there were a few people standing on the side of the road with weapons. Saviors.

“Shit,” you swore under your breath. Your mind was racing as you tried to figure out what to do. You thought you could scrape through on the edge of the lane if you were going fast enough to make yourself a hard target to shoot at or stop. But if they shot out your tire or something… “Fuck it,” you said out loud, and you moved your foot back to the gas pedal and depressed it to the floor again. The SUV leaped over the concrete, the engine roaring to life. “Come on. Come on…”

You were almost to the group of Saviors when you registered some object flying through the air, hurled by one of the men on the side of the road. You watched it as if in slow motion and by the time you realized what it likely was it was too late. All you could do was brace yourself as the grenade exploded just in front of the hood of your vehicle. The shockwave from the fireball was strong enough to blow and roll your vehicle back and on its side into the ditch in the middle of the highway. You vaguely registered the sound of screaming metal tearing against concrete, deafening cracks and crunches, and shattering glass as the SUV rolled over and over before the vehicle came to rest in the grassy ditch on the driver’s side.

Move. You have to move. Move. You couldn’t hear anything but a high-pitched ringing in your ears and your vision was splotchy and blurred with dark and red spots as you tried to keep your eyes open. Your vision seemed to go in and out, blurred and then sharpening, and then blurring again. Somehow you managed to get your bearings and struggled until you could undo your seatbelt. You registered that the windshield was completely busted and you maneuvered until you could kick it out. There was so much adrenaline coursing through you that you didn’t feel any pain, even though you were vaguely aware of a decent amount of blood on your body and hands. You saw your rifle laying down by the pedals and felt for your pistol with the other hand, making sure it was still in its holster on your leg. It was.

You vaguely heard shouting coming from the direction you assumed The Saviors were in. And it was then that you suddenly remembered the IEDs in the back of the vehicle. “Oh, fuck. Fuck!” You scrambled to climb out through the kicked-out windshield. “Shit, shit, shit!” The devices hadn’t been completely assembled or armed, but a violent car crash like the one you had just experienced definitely was enough to fuck them up and make them unstable. You let out a groan as you climbed to your feet, keeping bent over low and trying to shelter behind the turned over vehicle even as you struggled to put as much distance as possible between yourself and it. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!”

The crack of a gun was shortly followed by a bullet whizzing past you and you threw yourself flat to the ground and rolled over on your back so you could look back in the direction of your attackers. The tall grass in the ditch concealed you fairly well, but it also prevented you from being able to see how close they were. You were panting from exertion and the growing trickle of pain that was coming back to you now that the initial wave of adrenaline was waning made it hard to think straight. You sat up and barely peered over the tall grass, the stock of your rifle pressed into your shoulder, ready to be raised completely.

The Saviors were moving cautiously toward the vehicle, all doing their signature whistling which still sent chills through you. One was out ahead and moving in your direction. Where a moment before you had been rushing away and hoping that the explosives in the back of the SUV would remain stable, now you started wishing for the opposite. “Come on, you piece of shit. Blow the fuck up,” you muttered under your breath. You raised the rifle to your shoulder and took aim at the leader moving toward you as best you could without revealing yourself. It was still hard to see from your low vantage point on the ground, but you weren’t about to stand up and draw fire from all of them at once if you could help it.

You didn’t think they knew who you were yet, because they had shot at you seemingly to kill. Negan’s ominous words rang in your mind again, about wanting you alive.

“Why don’t you come on out?” the leader yelled, sweeping his gaze side to side as he slowly moved away from the SUV. “You’re all alone out here and you’ve got no way to get anywhere! You’re probably hurt! If you surrender now we’ll treat you reeeeeal nice. Promise!”

You heard faint laughter from the other men hanging back by the vehicle, apparently still trying to pry a door or something open to more closely inspect what was inside.

“Run, run, little rabbit! Come on!” The leader shouted again.

You were just about to shout something back, getting ready to squeeze off a rifle round, when there was another tremendous explosion and you felt the shockwave run right through you, throwing you back flat to the ground as the hot air and concussive blast rushed past. Smoke drifted over you as you stared up at the blue sky and you could hear the raining of some debris falling back to the ground.

You knelt in the tall grass and cautiously looked over at the blackened skeletal remains of your vehicle, flames still licking out from the interior. The bodies of the Saviors that had been closest to the explosion were still and maimed on the ground. You paced cautiously closer, looking for the leader, and you finally found him on the ground, flat on his stomach, apparently still disoriented from the blast, but largely unhurt.

He tried to get up as he suddenly registered your presence but you pushed the muzzle of your rifle into his back. “Where are the fucking keys to your truck?” you demanded. “Hands up! Where I can see them!”

He complied.

“Keys!” you demanded again.

“My back pocket!” he said.

“Don’t fucking move,” you growled again. You bent down and patted his pants pockets, feeling something in the left one and reaching in to pull out the keys. Just then the Savior made a quick move and pushed himself up off the ground onto his hands and knees. The movement knocked you slightly back as he bumped into your rifle. He was spinning around and reaching for a pistol at his hip when you instinctively shouldered your gun and fired. The round struck him squarely in the chest and he fell back to the ground, landing hard and lying still after a brief moment. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath. You bent down again and grabbed the keys you had dropped.

You stood over the dead Savior’s body and unsheathed your knife, cringing as you plunged it into his temple so he wouldn’t turn. You went to do the same to the others killed in the explosion. As you moved, you started to register that your entire body felt bruised but you stopped yourself from really looking for injuries yet. Not here. Time to go.

You rushed over to the Savior’s truck and peered in the bed, looking underneath a heavy tarp. There were boxes and boxes of ammo and a couple crates of automatic weapons. Obviously, these guys were moving merchandise to a new place when shit started to hit the fan. They’d probably just been told to watch the main road when you came along. You breathed a sigh of relief and tried to get your heart rate and breathing to return to normal. “Okay… I’m okay…”

Climbing hastily into the driver’s seat, you inserted the key and the truck rumbled to life. You turned and headed in the direction of the outpost, again pressing your foot almost to the floor.

By the time you arrived, you could tell that things were apparently over. There was no active shooting and you could see your people moving around methodically, dealing with the casualties so you weren’t adding any more walking dead to the world. You immediately shut off the engine and forced the truck into park even before it had really stopped moving. You rushed out into the maze of barricades, searching desperately for anyone you recognized. You felt people’s eyes on you as you passed them and had a sense from their expressions that you looked pretty rough. “Aaron!” you yelled. “Aaron! Eric!”

You couldn’t explain it but you felt suddenly frantic and your stomach rolled with nausea. “AARON!? ERIC?” You rushed through the debris and searched urgently. You rounded barricade after barricade but weren’t finding them and the hard pit that formed in your stomach just got heavier and heavier, until finally you rounded one last truck and saw them. You stalled and the air was ripped from your lungs.

Aaron was on the groun and hunched over Eric who was leaning up against a tree. With even a brief glance it was easy to tell that Eric was already gone. He was dead. Gone. Just like that. “No. No… No, no, no. No!” Your feet propelled you forward but you fell to your knees still a short distance away, your legs suddenly giving out. You crawled the last few feet to Aaron’s side. You didn’t want to look at Eric’s vacant expression and the paleness of the skin on his face but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from it for a long time. You could feel hot tears streaming down your face and the saltiness stung. You gathered yourself enough to glance over at Aaron who was just hunched over and sobbing in agony, clutching to Eric’s hand like it was a lifeline, like maybe if he just didn’t let go then this wasn’t real. You gently pressed a hand to his back and he startled a little at the contact, apparently realizing you were there now for the first time. He straightened up slightly and the questioning look and disbelief on his face were the same you were feeling. “Aaron,” you managed to croak out. “Aaron, I’m—I’m sorry.” You could barely get the words out. You shook your head, whirling from the ramifications of Eric’s silent and still form lying there heavily. “I’m so sorry,” you whispered again, now completely breaking down like he was. Tears streamed faster down your face and you felt your throat constrict with emotion. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. “Aaron—”

Aaron’s crying began again as he looked at you and you grabbed him and pulled his head to your shoulder. The two of you were clinging onto each other and you did your best to pull yourself back together as he went to pieces. There was nothing you could tell him… You couldn’t tell him it would be okay. You didn’t know that. What could you possibly say? The love of his life was laying dead beside you.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl arrived back at Hilltop and hurriedly parked his bike. The community was in chaos with the wounded being rushed for care, people searching for their friends and loved ones, and many just standing around in a daze. Daryl spotted Rosita and Carol and stalked hurriedly over to them. He accepted a relieved hug from Carol before turning to look at Rosita. “How’d it go? Any problems?” he drawled.

Rosita shook her head. “No. No problems. We got everything set up like clockwork. Only—”

Daryl’s stomach twisted. “Only what?”

Carol stepped forward again. “Y/N isn’t back yet and we were expecting her by now. And we haven’t seen Aaron or Eric either.”

Daryl felt his heart drop into his stomach. “Well, is anybody from that outpost back yet? Maybe we need to send another group up there.”

“Some of them are back already,” Rosita said. “But nobody seems to know—”

“I’m goin’,” Daryl growled, immediately turning on his heel and heading straight back for his bike.

“I’ll come with you,” Carol said, starting after him.

“No! Ya stay here and help! And if ya see Rick tell him where I went!” he roared over his shoulder.

Daryl pushed his limits on his bike, racing to follow the path you would have driven after Rosita split off from you. He spotted a column of dark smoke rising up into the air ahead and felt like a knife had twisted in his heart again. He urged his himself on even as terror about what he could find made it hard to breathe.

All he saw when he first arrived was what was left of a vehicle he knew to be yours on its side, smoldering in the ditch. Daryl gulped and tried to stop bile from rising into his throat. He climbed off his bike and grabbed his gun, cautiously and fearfully moving toward the vehicle. He stopped a short distance away, his heart pounding, and had to pace a few times, reeling, steeling himself, before he had the courage to move closer. He felt shaky as he approached the bashed-out windshield and peered inside.

He heaved a momentary sigh of relief when he saw no body inside. You weren’t in there.

But where were you?

Daryl began to look around and found some trails in the tall grass. He followed them and discovered the bodies of four men. Each of them had a stab wound in their temple, obviously to prevent them from turning.

Okay. This looked like your handiwork. The archer breathed another sigh of relief. However, he knew you’d likely been in your vehicle when it had crashed and he had no way of knowing where you were and whether or not you were badly injured. There was also still the possibility that more Saviors had arrived and grabbed you. He headed back to his bike and climbed on, deciding to drive the rest of the way to the outpost you were supposed to be heading to, keeping his eyes open for any sign of you.

He rode in strenuous anxiety the rest of the way, searching the road ahead and each side as he went, but seeing nothing that pointed to your whereabouts. When he finally made it to the outpost and parked his bike, he was relieved to see that the battle was over and clearly the Saviors had lost. There were still a few of Alexandria and Hilltop’s people milling around and Daryl started his search for you, his stomach twisting every time he came upon a body, worried he would look down and see that it was you.

He finally rounded one of the armored trucks and froze. His heart sank back into his stomach. You and Aaron were on the ground. You had your arm around Aaron and Daryl could tell he was sobbing against you by the hitched, uneven breaths he was gasping in and the way his shoulders were shaking. The reason why was perfectly clear. Eric’s pale and still form was leaned up against the tree and there was a shockingly large stain of deep crimson on his stomach.

Daryl forced himself to move closer to the scene and lightly touched your other shoulder. You straightened up and looked up at him, your expression one of pure agony and your wide eyes filled with tears.

You were battered, bloody, and bruised, and Daryl was pretty sure there was glass in some of the flecked wounds on your face. Your arms were cut and bleeding, but Daryl knew you weren’t feeling any of those injuries right now.

There was nothing to say, so Daryl just stood there silently looking at you for a long moment, feeling a sharp ache between his lungs that seemed to grow the longer he stood there.

You sniffled and cleared your throat, turning back to Aaron and clasping his face in both hands, making him look at you. His eyes were red and puffy and there was a constant flow of tears down his cheeks. “Go with Daryl,” you murmured to him. “Aaron. Listen to me. Go with Daryl, okay?”

Aaron’s eyes frantically moved back to Eric’s body and his expression was desperate.

“Come on,” you said, climbing gingerly to your feet and pulling Aaron up with you, even while he refused to tear his eyes away from Eric. “Go with Daryl,” you said again. You nudged him away and he finally complied, stepping back. Aaron wandered away toward the nearest vehicle in a daze.

You stared down at Eric’s body, feeling suddenly numb, and Daryl watched as you unsnapped the loop of the sheath that covered the hilt of your knife.

Daryl stepped forward again. “Y/N. Ya ain’t gotta—I can—I can take care of it,” he said gently.

“No. I need to.” You turned and looked at Daryl again and renewed tears flowing down your cheeks. “I need to. I—I want to. I can do it.”

Daryl nodded, his chest aching, and he slowly retreated to stand with Aaron.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Later that night, once you had finally returned to Hilltop with Aaron and Daryl, you insisted on digging a grave and burying Eric yourself. A small group of Alexandrians who had known him gathered to pay their respects, but they finally all drifted away. Maggie was able to convince Aaron to come away to be looked over by the doctor. The archer found you alone, sitting in a cloudy daze on the ground, staring at the newly erected grave marker. Daryl anxiously chewed on his bottom lip and knelt down beside you, gently putting a hand on your back.

His touch seemed to bring another swell of emotion in you and you gasped in a shaky breath and tried not to fall to pieces again.

Daryl’s blue eyes whirred over you and studied all the injuries you’d sustained that day, but none was hurting you more deeply than the loss of one the people you cared the most dearly about. You were exhausted and defeated and Daryl knew it was going to be his job to get you back on your feet. And he was going to do it.

He wrapped his arm around you and spoke gently. “C’mon. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You simply stared straight ahead at the grave, still seemingly lost in the veil of your grief.

“Y/N. Hey. Look at me,” Daryl urged you. “Look at me.”

You finally turned your eyes back to him and they seemed dark compared to the light he was used to seeing in them. Daryl gently clasped your face and you closed your eyes at the contact, falling against him the next moment like you had nothing more to give. Daryl wrapped you against him tightly and smoothed his hands lightly over your back. “I know. M’sorry. M’so sorry.” He left a kiss in your hair and held you for a long time. Finally, you pulled back and looked up at him, your eyes still glistening a little. “C’mon. Let me patch ya up.”

You finally nodded and Daryl helped you to your feet. He kept an arm looped around you, his hand resting lightly on your lower back, and you followed him back to the familiar trailer you had shared before. Daryl sat you down on the couch and went to his pack and dug out the first aid kit. He returned and sank down on the edge of the coffee table in front of you, his lips pulled in between his teeth.

He grabbed the pair of tweezers and gently turned your face so he could see where some glass was still embedded in your forehead and cheekbone, apparently from your head hitting the side window and shattered debris when the vehicle finally came to rest. He plucked a several pieces out and you barely flinched. He found a few more bits of glass in your shoulder and arm as well as the palms of your hands. You sat frozen as he tended to you, a faraway look in your eyes. Daryl grabbed a few alcohol swabs and opened them, dabbing at the cuts and scrapes on your cheekbone and forehead. He gently clasped your chin and examined the other side of your face. Your expression was vague and disconnected and it was worrying Daryl immensely.

He shifted his attention back to your arms, cleaning off the dried blood and wounds the best he could, some of which began bleeding freely again. There were angry red marks on your wrists from the chemicals in the air bag.

“Hey,” he said, moving your hair away from your face. “Ya wanna take a shower? Should look the rest of ya over too,” he said gently.

For the first time since he’d sat you down you looked right at him and seemed to really see him. Your expression was still desperate, but you nodded.

Daryl nudged his nose up, returning it. “Alright. C’mon,” he said, standing up and helping you to your feet. You winced a little as you moved again. Your whole body felt like it was bruised and stiffening. Daryl left you standing in the doorway of the little bathroom as he ran the water and tested the temperature. “Alright,” he said, stepping out. “I’ll be right out here if ya need me.” He started to slip past you but your hand floated to his chest and landed lightly there, freezing him instantly.

He easily read the request in your eyes. You didn’t want to be alone. You needed him.

His arms circled around you again and he nodded. “Alright. S’okay.” You collapsed against him again. You shut your eyes and focused on the steady sound of his heart beating. “I’ve got ya,” he said softly. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere.” He pressed a kiss to your hair.

You allowed Daryl to gently move you into the bathroom. He shut the door softly behind you and his hands landed lightly on your hips. He studied the bruising and cuts on your face in the brighter light and this time felt a hot swell of rage. Thank God you were alright. It was too damn close… “Let’s take a look at ya, alright?” he said gently. He hesitated before grasping the hem of your dirty and bloodstained shirt and pulled it up over your head. You couldn’t stop the sharp intake of air between your teeth as you struggled to raise your left arm. As you were free from the fabric, Daryl saw the dark bruising from the seatbelt that started at your shoulder and cut across your chest.

He clasped your face again lightly before sweeping your hair back. “How’s yer neck? Sore?”

You nodded. “A little.”

The first words you’d spoken since you’d told him you would take care of Eric… Daryl was quite sure it was more than a little.

You undid the holster with your pistol still in it that was strapped to your thigh and you pulled your knife in its sheath away from your jeans. Daryl’s eyes took in the bumps and bruises on your bare skin, the cuts and abrasions on your arms, as you undid the clasp of your bra and let it fall carelessly to the floor.

Your fingers found the buttons of his shirt and Daryl helped you slip it off him. The range of movement in your shoulder was limited by the swollen and stiff muscles around the joint and you winced a little with every movement. Your eyes hungrily drank in the sight of his broad chest and shoulders and you pressed your hands to him immediately, like you wanted to be certain he was real in front of you, grounding, safe. Daryl’s arms gently wrapped you against him, skin to skin. When you broke apart again, you leaned back against the counter and Daryl unbuttoned and unzipped your jeans. He helped you slip out of them, still feeling a little nervous as all of you was bared to him, but your hands found his button and fly and soon he was all skin too, and he stepped into the shower beneath the warmth of cascading water and beckoned you in with a simple tilt of his head.

You were drawn to him and the comfort and safety he gave you like a magnetic. You shut your eyes and let the stream of hot water wash over you. It stung all your wounds but you didn’t care. The sharp sensation was better than the numbness you’d been feeling since— Daryl gently smoothed his hands over your wet skin, his fingers light over every little bruise and cut. He washed the remaining dirt and blood away and you gave into the sensation of being cared for, pushing away the emptiness and nausea that was overwhelming you. Daryl swept your wet hair to one side and kissed your shoulder and your neck so lightly and tenderly it raised goosebumps on your skin despite the warm cloak of the water. He traced his fingers down your spine, letting them wander over the graceful curve of your back before he looped his arm around you from behind, holding you securely against him. You leaned your head back against his chest and tried to convince your muscles to release the tense grip they had on your skeleton.

Daryl thought he felt you soften beneath his hands finally, and the next moment you turned, the water running in rivulets over your collarbone and down your chest, and you looked up at him. He loved the way the water droplets clung to your eyelashes.

“Thank God you’re alright,” you said softly, tears in your eyes again. Your smoothed your hands over his strong chest, your fingers tracing the scars on his skin. “Thank God,” you said again, looping your arms around him and leaning your head on his chest.

“Thank God you are. When I first saw your SUV, I—” Daryl’s hands smoothed over the curves and angles of you again. “S’alright,” he drawled quietly. “We’re alright.”

The pattering of the shower reminded you of the calming sound of rain and you did your best to fill yourself up with this strong man, replacing the empty hole that seemed to have taken hold in your chest since your eyes first landed on Eric’s pale face and Aaron’s anguish.

A short time later, your towel still wrapped around you, Daryl finished patching you up with a gauze pad here and a bandage there. His eyes kept catching on the deep bruise from your seatbelt that cut across your chest. When he was satisfied you were taken care of, you grabbed the kit before he could put it away and tended to some abrasions and wounds he had sustained himself. You lightly rested a hand against his cheek, leaning into him.

“You’ll tell me how today went?” you asked.

Daryl nudged his nose up in a couple nods. “Mhm. Tomorrow. Ya need rest.”

“So do you,” you said, running a wavy strand of his brown hair through your fingers. Your eyes flickered between his for a moment and then shut as you leaned in and met his lips with yours.

Daryl pulled you more tightly into him and tangled his fingers in your hair, kissing you back softly but with a neediness you felt straight to your core. You ran your thumb along the edge of his strong jaw and kissed him with a warmth Daryl felt spread to his chest instantly and bloom outwards.

“C’mon,” he said gently, tilting his head toward the bed. “I ain’t lettin’ ya go all night,” he said earnestly, smoothing your hair away from your face again.

There was a tinge of sadness in your eyes again. “Promise?”

“I promise.”