#edited it over the next few months

[cockatrice-writers-guild]

Would You Still Love Me If I Was A Wyrm?

dragon au. yes

warnings: grief, suicidal thoughts, blood, brief mention of injury, death mention, swearing, this fic is Long

taglist: @autism-alley , @awkwardgtace​ , @tripodcat-gt​

I bring the hammer down on the red piece of metal again and again, each strike lighting the room as a flash of sparks rain down from the weapon in front of me.

My name is Emelia Markov, Mia for short, and I’m a blacksmith. I’ve made all sorts of things at this forge, anything that my customers can think of; furniture, gates, tools, armor, even toys when needed.

Tonight it’s a sword, one that wasn’t requested by any client but one that I’ve been working on all the same.

Because I’m going to use it to slay a beast.

A beast that killed my friend.

Jax. A performer. A good one too. He’d move crowds of people with his voice, leave them desperate for more. I remember going to his shows when I could and seeing him sing, pace the stage like a caged tiger while bathed in the spotlight, the way the moon played off his clothes, it was incredible. And together we were happy.

Then one day he got an offer he couldn’t refuse. All he had to do was go on a little tour across a few nearby countries to help spread his name, reach more people. They promised it would only take about a month, two at the most and so he hesitantly agreed. He hugged me for a long time before he finally had to go. I remember that too. His arms around me while the captain shouted at him from the vessel. He was laughing and I was too.

…I tighten my grip and slightly readjust the hammer before bringing it down again.

But finally he got on that boat and I went back to the forge and a few days later, word started floating in that a boat was wrecked on some island somewhere out in the ocean. His boat. They sent a rescue team to search for survivors but not one of the members returned. Rumours rose and fell as public interest waned overtime until eventually the chatter died all together, leaving me with nothing but a handful of half baked stories of bloodthirsty monsters and the emotionless condolences of the marketing company.

But he’s been missing for over a year now and after so much time spent waiting and hoping for some kind of sign, that by some miracle he’d be okay, I finally realized it was time to take matters into my own hands.

I need to face the truth.

Jax is dead.

And whatever killed him will pay for what it did to him.

-

The island out there had grown quite a reputation in the time since Jax’s disappearance. Even hardened sailors tend to give it a wide berth when they set off. Bad luck, they say. And despite it all, I’m headed there now, nothing but a small rowboat, a sword and the general direction of the island pointed to me by a hesitant farer’s hand. Rowboat because she didn’t want her sturdier ships to be destroyed. Hesitant because my destination has a body count.

I can just see it in the distance now. What looks like a massive piece of land from what I can tell, the bump of what might be a mountain in the far distance as I fight against the tide. Waves lap against the sides of the boat and gulls lazily soar overhead as my muscles strain to drive the boat forward.

And it’s all so…peaceful. The sounds, the smells, the infamous island slowly drawing closer thanks to my efforts. I can make out greenery now, a beach ending in a dense forest, the aforementioned mountain stretching to the clouds. It’s all so beautiful.

Which I find more infuriating by the second.

I can still feel a blade resting at my feet, the weight pressing into me as the boat sways a constant reminder. This island, not the endless sea, the island, beautiful and serene as it is, somehow killed my friend. Killed a bunch of people from what I’ve heard. Anyone foolish enough to go near it was never seen or heard from again.

I need to be ready.

Truth be told, I’m not even sure what I’ll need to be ready for. Even now, as the tide starts pulling me in, strong enough to know there’s no point fighting it, I realize I have no idea what I’m actually doing. The sword was just precautionary, just something to do while I waited for news that never came. Just something to latch on to. Was it the island that killed people or was it something that lived on it? Was there some monster out there or was it just a random tragedy? As I try one last time to paddle away just to see if I can and the force of the currents driving the boat towards the pristine beach breaks the paddle in half with a swift crack, I realize I’m about to find out.

-

Once the boat reaches the beach, I take a few moments to look around but there isn’t much to go off of in terms of landmarks or really any kind of indicator of where I should start looking. No sign of the wrecks besides a few pieces of rotting wood littering the beach either. So after looking the huge stretch of sand a few times over to make sure I’m not missing anything, I turn to the forest, pick a direction and just start walking.

The sword weighs heavily by my side, bumping into my thigh with every step and occasionally getting caught in low hanging branches. To be honest, I’ve never welded a sword before. I’m a blacksmith, not a fighter. It’s almost ironic. I’d forged hundreds of blades but never once thought of welding one myself. If somehow something on the island did kill Jax then I wasn’t sure I would be able to hold my own against it. Still, I have to try.

Well, that or die trying anyway.

But I’ve been walking for some time now and there hasn’t been that much of anything. It’s frustrating but I can feel the tension start to leave my shoulders as minutes turn to what feels like hours.

The sun peaks and eventually the shadows start to grow long and still I keep walking. Trees start to blur into a green mass as exhaustion starts to take a hold of me and I’m not really sure which direction I came from.

Had I come to the wrong island? Cursed tides and that old lady and everything pointed to this being the place and yet…

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

The sun is starting to set and I’m still walking through a jungle, nothing but the occasional animal to startle me out of my thoughts. My legs are aching and the sword thumps painfully against me with every step. It’s going to leave a bruise at this point. Maybe it already has.

I’m starting to think of giving up, of why I even bothered coming here at all. Jax is dead. And nothing I do will ever change that.

Nothing.

My steps waver for a moment as I reach up and swipe at the tears forming in my eyes before letting out a shaky breath.

…

…what the hell am I even doing?

It’s almost night. I wasted a whole day just hiking through the woods with a sword strapped to my side like I was some kind of hero. Like if I killed a fucking dragon or something, everything would go back to the way it was before. As if…as if somehow any of this would ever…

God, I want to scream.

I miss him. I miss him so so much and I know it’s pointless but I need this. Some kind of control. Some kind of closure. I needed to come to the island that took my friend and do…something. Anything. Whatever it would take to change something. To feel something. Please why can’t I just-

SNAP

My head shoots up and I try to blink through my tears as I look around.

And I just manage to catch something darting through the bushes nearby.

Something big.

I’m up in an instant, sword awkwardly pulling me down before I start to chase after whatever it was.

This is pointless. I know that. For all I know, I just startled a moose or something. Based on what I’ve seen of this place so far, it’s more than likely that this island merely traps people with its weird currents and then starves them to death and yet

My heart races

I’m running, I feel like I’m soaring. My heart pounds and hurts and hopes and I trip over stray roots and push through branches that scratch my face and tear at my clothes and I’m running and I’m running and

I bust through a final patch of greenery and find myself staring down a massive black hole

I take a step back for a moment, my head spinning as I try to process exactly what I’m looking at.

…and it’s an opening.

The setting sun does little to light the absolute darkness in front of me but it’s a cave. A massive cave that seems to stretch on and on in every direction. And just beyond that lies the peak of the mountain.

A cave almost the size of a mountain.

That looks unreal.

That looks like a man eater.

I grip my sword a little tighter and after drawing a long long breath to steady myself,

I go in.

-

The orange light of the setting sun bathes the inner walls of the cave in a soft orange as I move forward slowly, quiet steps echoing in the massive space. The far wall of the cave is still shrouded in a heavy darkness so thick not even the sun can make a dent in it. A deeper hole from what I can tell, with this huge space only being the first chamber of what has to be an equally massive structure. It looks like I’ll have to spend the night here and then start exploring the deeper depths of the cave in the morning.

A glance around the first chamber reveals nothing else worth noting but all the same, I’m starting to feel like something is…off. The more I look around, the more my long slumbering survival instincts start to warn me. Warn me of what? I’m not sure. But soon I’m on edge, sword held out in front of me as I move through the empty space. It’s warm in here and I feel like it shouldn’t be. It’s dead quiet besides my steps but even then I feel my muscles start to tense up as if readying for something.

I keep moving for now, the grip on my blade getting tighter and tighter with each step. I can’t see anything out of the ordinary yet but still I hesitate. Something is changing. I take a shaky breath and listen carefully to the wind. The sound of the lazy breeze outside is…different. Persistent.

Rhythmic.

The breeze now lightly dances across my skin in time with it even though I swear the air was dead still when I first stepped in here. I keep walking and the change becomes more noticeable. The temperature around me rises, the wind gets stronger and the cave is no longer quiet. I’m trying to figure out what this could mean when the soft light of the sinking sun shifts against the back wall of the cave and I find I can no longer move, my legs rooted to the ground. My heart all but stops beating.

The back wall, what I thought was a gaping hole when I first came in shines in the light as it shifts slightly, the sun playing off of it as small tremors travel through the floor below me. I’m frozen as I stare at the thing, realizing with a rising sense of horror that what I thought was pitch black is actually a dark blue.

Something that moves in time with the rhythmic noise traveling through the cave.

It’s not a hole.

It’s alive.

The entire back wall of the cave is breathing.

And for a moment I find that I can’t move as I take the thing in. Whatever it is, it’s huge, a massive sleeping beast, its shimmering blue body stretching on and on and on in every conceivable direction and in that moment I suddenly realize that maybe the sword isn’t the best idea. The creature’s breaths blow over and over and over me like a gale and my vision starts to swim. I can’t even tell what I’m looking at here. It’s gigantic. And in comparison I’m…

I’m���

I take a step back.

Then another.

I want to run, to breathe, to fight, to do anything but I feel like if I take my eyes off of whatever this thing is for even a second, I’m dead.

There is a beast on this island. A beast that may very well have killed my friend. And now I don’t know what to do. I’m not a fighter. I’m not anything but…Jax. This thing killed-

Crack.

My eyes snap downwards and I see what takes a moment too long to register as a crushed branch beneath my heels.

And then everything ends.

Rrrrrr?

A noise echoes through the cave. So loud I swear I can feel it in my bones and I can’t, I can’t breathe. I can’t move. I can’t fight. I can’t I can’t I-

stumble once the ground starts to shake something awful.

As the massive wall of flesh in front of me starts to shift.

As something starts to separate from the mass and rises higher and higher and higher until it just brushes against the impossibly high ceiling.

As it opens its eyes and suddenly I realize I’m looking at a face.

I’m shaking now. Shaking as the thing cocks its weirdly bird-like head to the side as it takes me in.

As it sizes me up.

My vision swims as it makes another noise at me. So loud it rings in my ears and now the rest of the mass starts to rise and I think it’s getting up and its head starts to come down to see me better and it’s getting closer and I can’t stop shaking and I need to do something and the beast takes a step forward and I can’t fucking move and the resulting tremors knock me over and its head stops in front of me, eye so huge it takes up all of my vision, iris expanding like a black hole so it can see me better and I can see my reflection in its gaze and it makes a few more ear shattering caws and one of its talons draws nearer and nearer and it blinks and the rapid motion causes my head to spin and the ground shakes and shakes and shakes and

I feel something brush against my arm.

And just like that, everything stops.

My hand, raised, is slowly being coated in the blood that now trickles down the length of my blade.

My blade that is now in the air.

My blade that now lays embedded in the wall of what I can only assume is one of the creature’s fingers.

The massive eye blinks again and it’s audible in the quiet.

A few seconds passes in dead silence before it finally emits a new noise, long and low before slowly it withdraws its hand, blade still buried almost up to the hilt in it.

It watches me quietly.

Another monstrous caw, quieter.

And finally, after what feels like years of tense silence, the creature moves its head forward again before it opens what looks like a beak and moves behind me. Mind clouded by fear, I’m only vaguely aware of the odd sensation of my boots leaving the earth below. Of going limp in the open air. Of wind whipping at my face as the deep blue of the sea shines thousands of feet below. As we land with a jolt and after a moment I can feel the ground beneath me again. I stumble but for some reason I don’t fall.

I look up through a haze and see the beast watching me again, the last of the setting sun making it shine like a gemstone.

A moment passes in silence.

And then it’s gone.

-

I’m not a fighter.

I’m not a fighter but by God am I trying to be.

I’m back on the island, trying my best to avoid the beast as it lunges at me again. It’s not the ridiculously huge bird thing from before but all the same, I should probably avoid getting caught in its claws.

This time it’s some kind of lion, its wings flared and what looks like a scorpion tail lashing wildly as it skids to a stop and quickly rights itself, head low to the ground as it growls. The word ‘manticore’ sticks out to me as I stare at the thing and I hold up the shitty sword I threw together in two days, adrenaline and the ache from smithing making my hands shake and my breaths shallow as the thing narrows its eyes again, its pupils huge as it tracks my movement.

Once that bird thing dropped me off on the mainland, I knew I had to come back. I had too many questions. Why hadn’t the bird killed me? I woke it up and stabbed it in the hand and it just stared at me and carried me back to the mainland for my troubles. Did it always act like that or was I just lucky? And if it did, then what happened to Jax? What happened to the rescue team? If it didn’t kill Jax and all those other people then what did?

But now I’ve found myself another monster.

This thing fights back.

This thing is a man eater.

The manticore stays where it is for now, choosing to growl low in its throat as it watches me shakily take a step forward. I’d tried to attack this thing from behind when I first saw it but the blade was off balance and I missed, leading to…this. The blade tilts slightly as I take another slow step forward. Its tail lashes more and more as I approach. Another hiss from the beast as it crouches lower, readying itself. I feel my muscles coil in anticipation as I try to prepare for whatever it’s going to throw at me.

Its muscles tense, tail lashing wildly now.

Its eyes narrow as a small growl passes from between its snarling lips.

And then it launches itself at me and the sight alone makes me freeze up. Before I know it I’m on the ground, the wind partially knocked out of me as the beast rests one of its massive paws on my chest, pinning me down. It leans down and growls at me though its bared teeth.

I close my eyes, waiting for the pain but instead the beast just roars again, this time noticeably more distant. And once I finally bring myself to open my eyes, I see that the manticore isn’t even looking at me anymore, its gaze now fixed on the sky as it lets out another roar.

I almost start to wonder what it’s doing when a tremor shakes through the earth.

And then the sky is eclipsed by something massive.

I can feel my blood turn to fucking ice as I watch the sun dance across rows and rows of deep blue scales. The giant bird thing steps into view, its head and neck rising impossibly high over the treeline. It turns to watch me for a moment and I feel myself start to tremble under its gaze. But then it just turns to the manticore, releasing a few earth shaking caws and after a bit of back and forth between the two, caws and roars exchanged like they’re having a conversation, the manticore steps off of me and I immediately scramble away on my arms and legs before getting to my feet and holding my sword out defensively.

They both watch me in silence as my blade shakily points at each of them in kind but after a few seconds, they turn away to continue calling to each other and I get the distinct feeling that they’re trying to decide what to do with me.

I try looking for a way out of this while they’re distracted but with the bird and manticore so close by, I’m not sure what I can actually even do here. This is cemented by the fact that the moment I try to take a step away, both the manticore and the bird turn to me again, watching me as if making sure I’m not going to move any further before they go back to talking.

And it’s agonizing just standing here, the manticore not too far away and the shadow of the bird enough to cast the area in shadow. Each and every caw on the bird’s end shakes through my bones and soon I find myself trembling from the stress but finally, with a few short snorts the manticore turns and disappears into the dense treeline once more, leaving me alone with the bird.

I can feel the sword slip from my sweat coated fingers as the bird glances at me before a softer noise sounds, something like a chirp and I tense in response, almost feeling like it’s speaking to me directly now. I stay where I am, hands stupidly raised, grasping at nothing as something low and long comes from the massive thing’s throat and my breath hitches as I feel it shake the ground below me. It seems to be waiting for me to do something but I have no idea what it wants, my voice lost so I can’t even ask it.

There’s silence as we stare at each other before the bird utters a few more chirps, watching me for a moment longer before finally it ducks its head into the trees. I can feel myself freeze as I watch it approach but it just grabs my sword, slowly dragging it out of view before picking me up by the back of my shirt like it did before.

The ground disappears below me and I watch as the dense forest shrinks further and further until it looks more like large patches of grass on the ground. The scenery below passes in a blur as the bird’s massive talons take careful steps through the comparatively tiny forest and as I watch in horror, flinching every time one of its talons narrowly misses stepping on what must be a huge acre of trees, an equally terrifying realization soon hits me like a truck. If the massive, sprawling forest looks like that to this thing then…what do I look like?

The bird is on the beach in a few steps, its claws absolutely dwarfing the row boats I’d left stranded there and my heart dies a little at the sight. It easily steps into the raging currents before wind blasts all around me as its wings carry it into the sky.

The flight is brief and terrible and all the while I’m scared the thing will accidentally drop me but soon I can see the mainland come into view, the buildings at this perspective horrible before the bird lands on a secluded patch of land nearby and sets me down in the soft grass below. I keep my eyes fixed on the ground as it offers me an ear shattering chirp and I can feel its eyes on me for a long moment before, with a final tremor that knocks me off my feet and a few quiet squawks, the bird moves to leave.

And that’s when something snaps.

Despite the fear, my head swimming with what I just saw, I clench my teeth and force my eyes to look up at it. Because it was looking first. Because it felt important. And my heart just about stops beating when the bird pauses, turning its head slightly to meet my gaze. We stare at each other for a while, a low rumbling noise from the bird’s throat travelling across the landscape as it takes me in before it finally ducks its head down again, moving to gently nudge me in the stomach with its beak before pulling away. And something about the gesture, the way the bird is looking at me…

The bird turns to leave again after a moment and for a second I finally find my voice. “…wait!”

The bird starts, long neck bending to look at me over its shoulder and I find the weight of its gaze alone makes my voice die before I can say anything else. After a few moments of staring, the bird chirps a few times before it turns and launches itself into the sky once more, disappearing into the clouds in seconds.

-

Too many times now.

The next few weeks go by in a relative blur as trips to the island start to become more regular. There’s almost a routine to it now. Wake up. Go to the island. Find some creature. Try to attack it and instead start a fight. The bird thing shows up, my weapon of the day gets confiscated and I’m sent back to the mainland with a few monstrous caws for my effort. These last few days, I hadn’t even bothered to bring any proper weapons, choosing to grab whatever I could find collecting rust around the workshop before hopping on a boat and rowing over. Today it's a decorative trident I found rotting behind a pile of scrap metal. I can’t help but wonder how big the birds’ collection of tiny unusable weapons is getting.

And I know I’m in way over my head here, yesterday confusing a large snake thing by trying to fist fight it before being escorted home. I’m a blacksmith for God’s sake. But even then, I’m still alive. I think the beasts even know who I am now, choosing to roar or bark or make any noise they can whenever they see me so it attracts the attention of the bird and it carries me away again.

Once, I can chalk up to coincidence. I’ll even take two. Maybe they didn’t feel like killing that day or weren’t feeling particularly territorial or didn’t see me as a threat but now? This was getting ridiculous. It meant something. I’m not sure what yet but it did.

And the way the bird thing sometimes got once I was back on the mainland. Terrifying, yes but…just staring at me for long moments before it finally left, almost like it didn’t want to leave. And the way it nudged me that day, the way it looks at me, it seemed almost…I don’t know. Something about its eyes….

I put that thought in the back of my mind for now.

The boat fairer was being particularly difficult today, wanting to know what I was actually doing with all the boats she was renting to me since it couldn’t be that I’d come back from that wretched island so many times now. I just bit my tongue and paid the extra in ‘collateral’ as she put it before I was finally allowed on my way. The money wasn’t too much of an issue as it stood. I’d been saving up for a while now and the boats were dirt cheap. Though if this keeps happening, I’m going to have to try convincing the bird to carry the boats with me on my return trips.

The trip to the island is faster now that I know where I’m going. I jump off the boat once it hits the sand and walk up to the forest, picking another random direction before going in.

I’m only an hour in when I run into something this time. What looks like some kind of house sized dog with long horns sprouting out of its head and spikes running down its back sits quietly in a small clearing, looking like it’s just enjoying the sun. The manticore was doing something similar when I’d first encountered it and even then, it only started getting defensive after I’d taken the first swing. …I think I want to try something different this time. I watch the dog for a moment longer, look down at the rusty ornament in my hand, look back up at the horned dog’s teeth and then just walk into the clearing.

The dog’s ears prick up the moment I step inside and it raises its head to look at me, eyes unreadable. But besides regarding me in silence, it doesn’t do anything. Just like the bird thing. Just like the manticore probably would have. Just like all the other things here. I keep my pathetic weapon sheathed and take a step closer, watching as the dog’s head follows me silently.

There are a few teeth poking out of its mouth that look bigger than my head and my heartrate is steadily speeding up but I force myself to try and remain calm. I take another step closer and the beast only makes a small grunt of acknowledgement at the gesture, staring at me for a few moments longer before moving to lie down again, though careful to keep its eyes on me. It lets out a small huff as it rests its head on the ground and stares at me with what I can only imagine is disinterest as the sun beams down on it through the trees, its eyelids starting to droop in the relative peace.

I purse my lips. The dog isn’t a killer either.

I step out of the clearing and continue on, nerves still on edge from the experience. I just…I don’t understand. That’s yet another terrifying looking creatures down and none of them seem to have a taste for human flesh. Just how many are there on this island?

I find a gryphon lounging in a tree a bit later. I purse my lips as its sharp eyes meet mine, its ears on alert as it stares down at me.

“…have you ever killed anyone?”

The gryphon looks offended.

This is going nowhere. I’ve seen a few creature now but none of them attacked me on sight. Even the manticore, when it came across me again, let me off with a grunt. Why is everything on this island so damn non-hostile? Hell, why are there even mythical creatures here in the first place?

I come across a goddamn unicorn later in the day. And after watching it struggle to reach an apple hanging from a tree, I climb up there and get the apple down for it. A unicorn.

I feel like all this grief might be starting to get to me.

Still, eventually I find myself sitting on a piece of rotting wood overlooking the ocean, watching the turbulent waves tear apart a branch I threw in just seconds earlier. The sun starts to disappear below the ocean in the distance as the ache from walking starts to leave my legs.

And it’s almost…nice.

And then right on cue, the giant bird thing steps onto the beach, two of its huge talons landing on either end of the mass of land. My pulse shoots up at the resulting tremors but I stay where I am, squeezing my hands into fists to stop myself from shaking before I speak.

“Already time to go, huh?”

Nothing happens for a long moment before the ground starts to shake something awful. I don’t know what the bird is doing but I just brace myself and try to focus on the sunset. Its massive talons step into the surf before its legs seem to fold and with one final tremor that sends me skyward for a moment, the quakes die down and I swear I can just make out something hanging just outside my peripheral. There’s this heat radiating from behind and I force myself not to turn around, instead finally bringing myself to look up and see the underside of the bird’s head hanging high above me, looking out into the ocean as if it’s…watching the sunset too.

I feel my brows raise but don’t comment, turning back to the horizon and watching the sun sink beneath the waves with the giant bird thing. My heart is pounding horribly but at the same time…

…it’s kinda peaceful

Though it doesn’t last. Once the sun disappears and the sky turns a deep blue, the bird caws before it starts ducking down to pick me up. But before its beak can reach me, something occurs to me.

“Wait, wait.”

Surprisingly, the bird freezes, turning its head to the side to look at me again.

Wordlessly, I point to the literal pile of marooned rowboats on the shore.

-

I got my collateral money back.

-

…

Bad day today.

Waking up to a cold bed still somehow surprised me with the lack of another person. The boat fairer could see it on my face and didn’t even try to argue when I finally dragged myself to the docks to untie one of the boats and head on my way. I skipped breakfast, didn’t feel like eating right now. Less people were walking around town with the storm coming. The sky was grey as I sailed across the ocean, the waters more unwelcome than usual. And when I got to the island, even it seemed more lifeless. I…guess the creatures were all hiding from the storm too. I searched and searched half-heartedly for a few hours, didn’t even bring a weapon this time because what’s the point? I felt tired, more so than usual.

So now I’m here, sitting on an uprooted log I saw the big dog thing rip out of the ground a few days ago. I curl up as the winds start to pick up, biting back a small whimper as my throat starts to tighten.

Bad day.

Jax is gone. My best friend. My brain feels numb, draining me as rain starts to filter through the leaves overhead, as tears slowly start to slide down my cheeks. I move to hug my arms as the wind gets louder. What’s the point of all this? What’s the point of anything? Why did Jax have to die? Why couldn’t it have been me? How do I make the pain stop? How? Why can’t I…why can’t I…

A shiver runs through me as the wind picks up, slowly turning to a howl in the quiet.

A sob shakes my body as the rain gets heavier, the sound of water spilling through the leaves filling the air.

And now my head lifts in confusion as I finally realize something.

All around me, I can hear the rain falling, the sound of a torrent beating down on the greenery below.

But…I’m still dry.

Confused, I look up and have to bite back a yelp at the sight.

The sky, or rather what I thought was the sky shimmers slightly in the darkening light. Scales. The body of the massive bird thing standing over me, eclipsing the sky even as it maneuvers its long neck under its body to see me better. It offers me an earth shattering caw once one of its eyes finally meets mine and at the moment I’m too drained to even be properly scared.

“…hey,” I can barely manage to whisper but the bird cocks its head at me all the same. “You…” I take a moment to swipe at the tears on my face before I continue. “You caught me at a bad time but I guess you’re here to take me back? Time’s up already?”

The bird doesn’t respond to this at first. I don’t even know if it can understand me but a few moments later, it lowers its head to the tree line and I close my eyes, trying to brace myself for the still unfamiliar feeling of being lifted off the ground but

Something bumps lightly into my stomach instead.

I open my eyes, looking down to see the tip of its beak pressed to my middle.

It’s impossible to catch the thing’s eye from here but still I try my best. “What…what are you doing?”

The beak pushes against me again, this time followed by a small chirp.

I can feel my brows start to crease, trying to understand. The beast nudges me again and this time I turn around and take a few steps forward before stopping. I wait. And then I feel the same beak nudge my back.

Hmm.

I keep walking, completely dry as the storm rages all around us. The bird stays over me, the only indicator that it’s even there the occasional tremor it causes when it takes a step forward and soon I find myself staring at the entrance of the hollowed out mountain that is the bird’s cave once more. I turn to it, confused. “This is your home. I…don’t you want me to leave?”

The bird just stares at me for a second before leaning down and nudging me again.

I step into the cave and turn around to see the bird watching me. “Okay so…what now?”

The bird squawks at me a few more times before turning and setting off, towering ridiculously high over the trees as it looks around. I watch it for a few seconds before taking a seat. At least I’m dry now.

I take the time to try and clear my head but the bird returns in mere minutes, stepping up to the mouth of the cave and ducking down to nudge me again.

“Alright, alright, I’m going.”

About halfway through the cave, the bird stops pushing me, moving its head slightly to the left and dropping what looks like a huge pile of broken branches and logs on the ground next to me. I’m about to ask about it when the creature picks me up and drops me a good distance away. It looks me over for a moment before turning to the tree pile, ducking down so its head presses to the ground and opening its mouth. I’m thinking the bird is going to eat the sticks or something but soon the cave starts to shine with a slowly rising glow. There’s a hiss in the air and as the temperature noticeably starts to rise and I realize the source of light is coming from the giant bird’s mouth of all places, I don’t even have enough time to close my eyes before a huge jet of fire shoots from the bird’s mouth and engulfs the entire tower of branches in an instant.

And now I’m left staring at the giant column of flames it leaves behind, the light of the fire dancing erratically against the cave walls.

A dragon.

This thing is a fucking dragon.

I don’t know if I should run or if the movement will attract the things attention but too soon the dragon, the fucking dragon’s eyes are locked on me again. I flinch and feel my muscles start to tense but besides a small chirp and a few squawks, the dragon doesn’t do anything. It cocks its head at me and takes a step forward but I instinctively find myself taking a few steps back, holding up my arms slightly as if that could shield me from whatever this thing’s about to do. But after a few seconds of nothing but the sound of the roaring inferno nearby and the rain pouring outside, the dragon simply ducks its head slightly, uttering a low noise in the back of its throat before it simply moves to the back of the cave and curls up tightly, burying its head under its wings so I can’t see its face anymore.

And then…nothing.

I thought the dragon brought me here to cook me over the open flame but…

The storm rages on outside. I can see the wind ripping through the trees, leaves and other debris flying past in the howling winds

But I’m here. In a cave. With a fire.

A roof over my head.

Walls to shield me from the wind.

Warmth.

Am I a fucking idiot?

I turn to look at the dragon curled up in the back. It shielded me from the rain. Brought me to its home to stay warm and dry. And I…

“…hey.”

The dragon flinches and I winch in response. It raises a wing and peaks out slightly.

“I…” The words die in my throat as I realize I have no idea what to say. …but maybe there’s something I can do.

I start walking toward it.

The dragon unfolds more, revealing the green undersides of its wings for a moment while it moves its head. Then it just watches me in silence as I approach, head tilting and irises dilating as I draw closer. Once I finally reach it, it cocks its head slightly but otherwise remains still.

My voice dies for a second seeing it up this close but still I force it out. “I…can I see your hand?”

It blinks at me for a few seconds before complying, shifting to pull one of its legs out from under it before setting it down in front of me with an audible thud. My heart rate spikes for a moment but I suck a few breaths in and out before I continue on. Once I reach the dragon’s talons, I walk around until I find what I’m searching for, the gash still on one of the dragon’s fingers. The one I made with my own hands. The wound is still pink but already closed, probably due to the dragon’s size.

Still, I pull off my scarf, using the end of it to clean the debris out of the gash and once that’s done, I run a hand down the skin near the cut before forcing myself to look up into the dragon’s eyes.

“I’m…sorry about this.”

The dragon blinks at that, cawing before ducking down to rest its head on the floor near me. I stare at it for a long moment before I find myself turning to approach its head, moving until I’m finally close enough to place a shaky hand on the skin just under the dragon’s eye.

And then a low rumbling noise shakes through me.

I jump back and the noise slowly tapers off, the dragon opening its eye again to look at me.

…there’s something about that eye. I can’t see the rest of it right now but there’s almost…something familiar. …like…a small crease and a slight head tilt. …it’s confused. Confused about why I stopped touching it? I could have sworn it was growling at me. But…it had its eye closed, almost like it was…content.

Experimentally, I step forward and place a hand on the warm scales in front of me. Almost immediately, the rumbling noise starts up again. I take the hand off. The rumbling stops. I look up at its eye again. Confusion.

“I…,” I place a hand on its face and the rumbling starts up once more, this time accompanied by me stumbling backwards as it shifts to lean more of its weight against me. I find it hard to find the words as I marvel up at the thing. “I…I’m sorry, are you purring?”

And then the dragon raises its head slightly before lowering it to the ground.

Like a nod.

Like it’s fucking nodding at my question.

I take a step back and look it in the eye again, heart starting to race. “You can understand me?”

The dragon raises its head off the ground before nodding again.

“…say no.”

The dragon shakes its head.

It can understand me.

I take a step forward and slowly the dragon sets its head down once more, moving until its head bumps into me again. I rest a hand on it and it continues purring. “I…you know, you seem…kinda fond of me for something that’s been trying to kick me off the island for weeks now.”

The dragon offers something like a grunt of what must be acknowledgment before it goes back to purring.

“Is there…a reason for that?”

A pause.

Then the dragon squawks a few times before tilting its head to look at me almost…expectedly.

“…ah, right. Sorry about that. Maybe we should just stick to yes or no questions for now.”

A small nod.

Outside the storm rages.

“Uh…thanks for getting me out of the rain, by the way.”

Another short grunt.

“I guess we’ll be here for a while so…wait, are you going to carry me back after the storm?”

A nod.

“Asshole.”

The dragon leans in enough to make me fall over, moving to lightly rest its massive head on top of me, effectively pinning me to the floor. It then continues purring like nothing happened.

“HEY!”

The dragon only gives a short caw in response and I get the sense that the thing is jokingly mimicking my exclamation.

I frown.

“FINE, FINE I GET IT! YOU’RE NOT AN ASSHOLE.”

And just like that it relents, raising its stupid head off of me and using its beak to pull me to my feet. There’s something almost like…amusement glimmering in its eyes now as it stares down at me and soon I find a small smile worming its way onto my lips.

“…you’re worse.”

The dragon’s eyes widen at that, giving another squawk before it leans in to push the tip of its beak into me again and I laugh, reaching up to grab onto as much of it as I can.

And after a long moment, it makes a few quiet caws and chirps and I feel my smile start to fade. I just…I wish I could understand what it was trying to say.

Instead, I pull away and move to approach one of its eyes again. There’s something complex there now. It caws again, quietly, low and long and I move until both my hands rest on the skin under its eye. It leans in slightly.

“I’m sorry I…still can’t understand you but…”

But what?

It’s not like there’s anything I can do to start understanding what it was trying to tell me. This dragon cares about me. It was saying something, probably something important but I…

jump back when I suddenly find myself drenched.

I look around wildly for the source, some kind of leak in the ceiling but the sound of water splashing against the cave floor grabs my attention and I look to the source of the noise.

The dragon. It’s crying.

Tears large enough to fill a pool slowly stream down the dragon’s face as it watches me in silence.

“God, I’m so sorry.”

The dragon offers a high pitched whine in response and I purse my lips.

“…here, it’s not much but,” hesitantly, I hold my arms out to the dragon and after a moment it all but crashes into them.

We’re both like this for a while, the dragon leaning into me and whining, me doing my best to hold it while it does. It seems to calm down a little overtime, its breaths get longer and its whimpers slowly dying down into nothing. And then the sound of the rain, the dragon’s breaths and the fire fill the silence as we both stay there.

Eventually it lets out a yawn, pulling away from me and using its beak to bump into me again before it picks me up and sets me down on the vast surface of its arm. And once I sit down on the warm surface, the dragon rests its head next to me, leaning into me before it closes its eyes.

“You’re going to sleep now?”

A pause.

And then a slight nod.

“Goodnight then."

The dragon lets out a small squawk.

The fire crackles and the light dances along the walls of the cave almost hypnotically, the storm still raging on outside.

“…I’m guessing you’re still taking me back to the mainland tomorrow?”

A nod.

“Asshole,” I mutter, leaning into it as I try to get more comfortable.

The dragon snorts.

-

My arms strain against the oars as I can see the shape of the island starting to come into view again. And as the island starts becoming clearer as I start to get closer, I can feel the current start to pull me in and I put the paddle down with a small sigh, taking the small moment of peace to look out into the endless sea and collect my thoughts.

Every single time I come here, I’m proven over and over just how…non threatening the island is. The goddamn mythical creatures on the island refuse to attack me even when provoked. The manticore just pinned me down before calling for the dragon and other creatures followed a similar pattern, choosing to evade or incapacitate me until the dragon arrived. And now that I’ve stopped attacking them, they don’t even do that. Hell, the most terrifying thing on the island, the dragon itself, seems to actively like me. There’s literally not a dangerous thing on this island. But then what happened to Jax? What happened to the people on the boat with him and the rescue party? Even if every single other person attacked the beasts in such a way that…I don’t know, maybe they felt overwhelmed and had to kill them to survive, Jax would never. He wouldn’t hurt a fly and I doubt he could have provoked anything on the island enough to kill him. There has to be a killer somewhere on that island. There has to. Nothing else makes sense.

I take a deep breath of the salty sea air as I turn my head to look back at the island growing in the distance but the breath catches in my throat at the sight I’m met with instead.

The dragon.

Lying across the entire stretch of the beach, it’s head raising to watch me as I approach.

…shit.

“Uh…hi?” I call out to it and the dragon caws in return, its tail swaying slightly in the ocean.

And then it just sits there

waiting

as the tides already start to pull me inevitably towards it.

…dick

“…can’t we talk about this?”

The dragon shakes its head.

I throw up a middle finger at the beast which only causes the thing to caw at me a few times before I just sit back with a huff.

It cocks its head slightly and, narrowing my eyes at it, I sigh and wait for the current to take me into its clutches. And while I wait, I take the time to finally get a proper look at the thing, anything to take my mind off the situation but it’s almost…strange. Now that I think about it, I can see all of it for once thanks to the distance. Iridescent dark blue scales catch the sunlight as it shifts in the sand. The undertones of green under its wings along with what seem to be eye spots. Two long, almost golden looking horns rest on its massive head. It has a long neck and four bird like talons tucked under its body, a long tail trailing into the sea near it. I can make out the black tip of its stark white beak and the grey of its eyes.

It’s beautiful.

Still, I can also make out the huge mountain a distance behind it, not much taller than the dragon even when it’s sitting down. I can see white dots that must be seagulls, absolutely minuscule compared to the thing. Talons longer than any palm tree on the beach. The wall of blue that stretches on and on forever when I finally bump into it.

And then any tension I feel vanishes when it starts purring again. This goes on for a few seconds before it finally moves its head into my field of vision. The noise continues as it leans close and bumps the tip of its beak against me before moving to grab the back of my shirt as always. I can’t help but sigh as I feel my feet leaving the small vessel. Terrifying or not, this is starting to get ridiculous.

The world shakes as the dragon stands up and spreads its wings, scooping the boat up before taking a few steps into the raging ocean and pulling us both into the sky. The sea soars past us as we move and I can’t help but marvel at the sight, no matter how many times I’ve seen it now. The wind whipping past me as my body sways in the open air, the white blur of seagulls that pass us, the sound of the ocean far below, all of it makes me feel…alive. More alive than I’ve been since Jax’s disappearance though the reminder still makes my throat start to tighten with tears. No matter what this dragon does, I can’t forget why I keep coming back. Closure. Revenge. Just…anything to make it more bearable. To feel like I did something for him.

I cough as the tears start to choke me up and the dragon utters a short low note in the back of its throat in response and if I didn’t know any better, I would say that it just asked me a question.

…ah, what the hell

I take a moment to clear my throat before I speak. “I’m okay.”

A sound comes from overhead this time, a loud muffled squawk, muffled I assume because it can’t open its beak at the moment. Still, a small smile makes its way onto my face as the mainland comes closer and closer to greet us.

The rest of the flight goes by in silence and soon the dragon touches down on the vast plain it always flies me to, ducking down to gently place me on the ground before straightening up and turning to leave like it always does. I watch as it plants its talons on the edge of the cliff and spreads its wings. It turns to glance at me like it always does before looking away again. It starts to crouch, preparing to launch itself back the way it came, just like always and-

“Wait.”

And the mountain sized dragon freezes.

I freeze too, the words leaving my mouth just as much a surprise to me that they are to it and I watch as the dragon slowly turns around, moving to stand over me once more. It lets out a small coo before cocking its head to the side.

My neck straining to even look it in the eyes like this, it takes a second for me to find my voice. “I…look, I’m not on the island anymore. Maybe we could…I don’t know, talk?”

The beast stares at me in silence for a moment before the ground starts to shake once more. I watch as the dragon moves to sit down in front of me, tucking its legs under it before turning its head to look at me expectantly.

I…don’t actually know what to do now.

The dragon cocks its head again, making a small noise as it waits.

As it waits

My mind starts to race as I think of what to say. What would a dragon even talk about? What would it…wait…oh God I just thought of something.

“Hey…”

The dragon makes a short grunt that tapers off at the end in return and for some reason I get the sense that I’m distinctively being made fun of. But that leads me to my next point.

It.

This dragon could understand me. It was clearly an intelligent creature but all the same…I didn’t really know how to go about asking this type of question. For all I know, maybe it liked being called it but…uh.

…how do I do this? Jax would have killed me if I didn’t ask eventually right? I look up at the towering dragon as the words try the form in my head. What are...would you prefer if…how should I…

The dragon eventually ducks down again, shifting its body and accidently knocking me over again as it gets more comfortable. It squawks at me and moves to pull me to my feet before resting its head on the ground next to me, a black slit pupil slowly expanding as it takes me in.

I watch it in silence for a moment, carefully considering my words before I continue. “So this might be a weird question and I’m sorry if it seems kinda sudden but I wanted to know…”

The giant sparkling blue dragon bird blinks at me and all at once I find the words die in my throat. “…wait do…do you even know what pronouns are?”

-

He/him

The dragon’s pronouns are he/him.

And for the record, though it’s kinda hard to read the face of a giant bird dragon, I think the question made him happy.

Though he still wouldn’t carry me back to the island when it was time for him to return so fuck him.

-

The dragon is already waiting for me on the beach the next day too, this time not even bothering to wait for the boat to reach the beach before he gets up and steps into the ocean. I watch as he makes his way over, the ocean getting deeper and deeper as he walks until the turbulent currents lap against his legs. The waves he creates with his movement pushes me back but all the same I soon find him standing over me, his body blocking out the sun. He ducks his head down so one of his eyes hangs slightly over the boat and the cursed tides pulling me forward make me bump into his face. I reach up with an annoyed huff and run a hand over his skin a few times before pulling away, leaning back so I can look into his eye.

“…are you just gonna keep doing this now? Not even gonna let me onto the island anymore?”

The dragon nods and I frown at him.

“What’s even your deal, man? Are you territorial? No filthy humans allowed on your island or something?”

The dragon shakes his head.

“Then?”

The dragon caws at me a few times and I sigh. This whole language barrier thing is starting to become a pain in the ass.

The dragon stares at me for a while longer before his head slowly sinks into the water, disappearing completely for a moment before startling me as it reappears on the other side of the boat. I just watch in silence as he does whatever the hell he’s doing and soon I get my answer. His body sinks into the surf, presumably as he lowers himself onto the seabed. His head and neck continue moving away from the boat before stopping a distance away, turning his neck around to look at me again before, with an explosion of noise and movement, the dragon starts to stand up once more, the way he positioned himself taking me and the boat with him into the air.

But finally he stops and I try to reorient myself, looking around at the huge mass of shimmering blue that stretches on and on like a fucked up version of the ocean. I look up at the dragon’s head before following the long length of his neck until it connects with the massive surface I find myself on.

…I’m on his back now.

The folds of his wings tower over me on either side and soon he bends his neck to bring his head close to me again, the tip of his beak moving to rest in my lap for a moment before he pulls away and turns his head so he can see me.

I can tell he’s waiting for some kind of reaction so I try to find the right words.

“…why?”

The bird’s head dips slightly and though he can’t really emote, I can see his eyes widen slightly in what has to be disbelief.

The answer’s apparently obvious so…

“…do you want to…walk me back to the mainland?”

He nods at that.

“…seems like kind of a waste honestly. Like, it’s just going to take longer and…”

I trail off as I think about it.

It’ll take longer for him to get back this way. He doesn’t seem to walk very fast since his size takes care of that problem. There’s something else about it too. I’m on his back instead of dangling from his beak. It’s weirdly…safe. …personal.

…close.

…and maybe that’s what he wants.

To spend more time with me. To hang out more. To carry me on his back to my destination.

I watch him for a long moment before slowly getting out of the boat and taking a seat on the warm scales below me. The dragon’s eye almost seems to soften at the gesture.

“I’ll just sit here then. You do what you have to do.”

The dragon just nods slightly at my words, staring at me for a second longer before his neck moves to face forward again and he eventually starts moving.

And despite the slower pace, the trip back to the mainland is still fairly quick, the time passing peacefully all the same. I try to enjoy it while I can, the warmth radiating off his massive scales and the way he shifts around me as he moves, the sound of the waves parting around him and the drumming of his heart beneath me. He turns to check on me every once in a while and I give him a small nod every time, the gesture rewarding me with a small purr before he continues. Too soon however, the cliff he usually lands on is in sight and I feel my heart start to sink a little.

The dragon stops once he reaches the cliffs and turns to me with a series of coos. I just nod back and he ducks down to pick me up, setting me down on the edge of the cliff before doing the same with my boat. That done, the dragon watches me for a long moment before he finally leans down and rests his head next to me. He blinks at me a few times and I just take a seat, sighing as I take him in.

“…what’s the matter with you, man? Kicking me out all the time and then acting like this. I just…don’t know what you want from me.”

The dragon answers this question fairly quickly, moving his head forward until it bumps into me.

“Typical.” I reach up and start stroking him in silence for a while as he purrs.

“…I’ll have you know I do have a reason for going back there everyday. …well, besides visiting you now, you big softie.” I can’t resist leaning forward and rubbing my check against him for a moment and he leans into the gesture. “…point is I’m just going to keep coming back until I find what I’m looking for. And if you’re going to keep blocking my way to the beach then I’ll just find another way to get on that island. …I’m sorry but I need to do this.”

The dragon is surprisingly quiet at that, the eye hanging above me staring at me in silence for a long moment before he finally cocks his head just slightly in question.

“I’m…looking for someone. And I’m not going to stop searching until I find him. Or at least…at least whatever’s left of him.”

The dragon watches me quietly and the rhythmic motion of my hands on warm scales helps me to keep going even as I feel my throat start to tighten with tears.

“I…ever since I found out there were actually mythical creatures on this island I thought…I don’t know what I thought to be honest. His disappearance…messed me up a lot, to say the least. I guess the rumours finally got to me and I thought…maybe something got him when he crashed on that island. Maybe I could kill it to avenge him. Or maybe he’s…maybe he’s still out there somewhere, you know?” I feel my voice shrink to a whisper as I say that last part. “I’m just hoping for…something, I guess. Any kind of sign that maybe…maybe…” the words trail off with a small sigh. “God, I just…I just miss him, you know? And I just wi- HEY!”

My words get cut off when the dragon suddenly moves again, leaning more of his weight than usual against me as he starts making a high pitched whining noise. “What’s gotten into you? …are you okay?”

The dragon continues whining for a few moments before finally giving a small shake of his head.

I frown, moving a hand to stroke the dragon’s head as he tries his best to accidentally bowl me over.

“Me neither.”

The words are barely a whisper but I feel a small nudge of acknowledgement just the same.

-

The dragon isn’t on the beach blocking my way this time so I guess that’s his way of saying I’m welcome. Though I don’t see him around either, even taking the time to check his cave and finding it completely empty besides the pile of weapons collecting rust in a corner.

And as I walk around the island, heart sinking slightly as the dragon continues to be a no show, I can’t help but start to lose myself in thought as the lush greenery blends together all around me.

It’s all so strange. The island is full of terrifying monsters but not a single one acts like a killer. What exactly am I missing here? The island has plenty of fruits and vegetables, animals to hunt, even a few lakes of drinking water so Jax and the others couldn’t possibly have died from lack of nutrition, even if they were trapped. …maybe there’s a chance that they’re still on the island. But if that were true then why hadn’t the dragon taken them back to the mainland too? And even if he had taken them and Jax just…I don’t know, finally decided he had enough of me and just pretended to be dead to get away then that still doesn’t explain why two whole boats of people just so happened to have the same idea. It just doesn’t make any sense.

So while all the other questions still bang around in the back of my mind, I make my way forward, any creatures I do come across just sharing a glance of acknowledgement before going back to doing what they were doing before. I’ve really only seen the forest so far but does it really span the whole island? Just how big is this place? I’ve been coming here for weeks now and still haven’t reached the end. And if the island really is this big and the creatures aren’t as hostile as they should be then…maybe he’s still alive around here somewhere.

As the sun reaches its peak and sweat causes my clothes to cling to me, I move to tiredly shove a stubborn branch out of the way with my shoulder and end up face first in what feels like grass when the branch gives way to nothing. I pick myself up with a huff and…

wow.

A huge field of grass, looking like it goes on for a while. My legs hurt but the sudden breeze that flows through the plain brings a small comfort. I take a deep breath of the salt tinged air and continue on until I reach a point I’m happy with and finally allow myself to lie down. The grass is soft and I take a moment to close my eyes and just enjoy the silence. I can faintly hear the sea again so this must be the other side of the island. The beach, the mountain, dense forest and then open plain. So either Jax is camped somewhere around here, climbed up a tree somewhere or fucking died like a year ago.

…God, why even bother. I know which one it is.

I move to sit up with a small sigh, wiping a few stray tears before opening my eyes again and looking around. It’s still just as empty as before but now…

Now I can see something in the far distance.

A mountain. A mountain that distinctively hadn’t been there before.

Well, at least that answers one question.

I take it in for a moment longer before leaning forward and cupping my hands over my mouth. “HEY!”

The mountain unsurprisingly doesn’t respond to this so I try a different approach.

“MOUNTAINS AREN’T FUCKING BLUE, ASSHOLE! GET OVER HERE!”

Said mountain remains still for a few seconds before finally untucking his head from beneath his wings and turning sideways to look at me. He caws and the sound carries effortlessly over the plain. Then he just stares until I beckon him again and he slowly stands up before making his way towards me. He reaches me in a few steps and stares down at me expectedly.

“…were you hiding from me?”

The dragon looks away.

I purse my lips.

“…was it because of what I said yesterday?”

A small nod.

I just sigh. “…well, I wasn’t lying or anything. I’ll need to keep coming back until I find my friend. …I’m really sorry but I have to keep trying. …but…even when I do…maybe I can keep coming back to visit you?”

The dragon stares off into the distance for a long moment before finally nodding again.

“…thanks. …do you want to join me?”

The dragon cocks his head.

“…as much as I want to find my friend, I…well…you’ve been kind to me…kicking me off the island non withstanding but…well, I think I just want to check on you today. You seem sadder than usual.”

The dragon turns back to look at me then, watching me carefully for a second longer before he sits down, tucking his legs underneath his body and laying his head down next to me.

I lean back slightly, enjoying the silence and the warmth for a second before I finally speak again.

“…you okay?”

The dragon gives a small chirp that I take as a yes.

“…that’s good.”

I scoot backwards until my back presses into the dragon’s neck and he leans into the gesture.

We stay there for a while and in the spare time I let my mind wander to Jax for a while before I stop, instead turning to the wall of blue I’m leaning against.

“…are you sure you’re okay?”

The bird just caws and with a sigh, I eventually get up, taking a few steps back so I can look him in one of his eyes. The dragon just turns his gaze to look down at me in question.

“…look, I know we have conflicting goals but we’ve known each other for almost a month now and during that time, you’ve been like…ridiculously kind to me, all things considered. And yesterday I upset you and you hid from me. I just…I want to sort this out, you know? I’ve mentioned my friend twice now and both times you became genuinely upset by it. I just want to know…”

The slight tilt of his head and the way he looks away stops me.

“…if mentioning him upsets you that much then…I’ll give it a rest for today. How’s that sound?”

The dragon looks at me again, eyes slightly wide in shock.

“Of course, I care about him but…I care about you too, you know? We could always sort this out some other time.”

And the dragon nods.

-

We didn’t talk about it in the end.

Every time I tried to bring it up, the dragon would get so visibly upset that I would eventually just give up and drop it again. One time he got so upset that he ran away. Another time he became a sobbing mess.

Something about all this just didn’t add up.

And it all pointed to the dragon.

The dragon who could understand me. The dragon who followed me around while the other creatures tended to do their own thing. The dragon who seemed very fond of me but wanted me to stay off the island even though there didn’t seem to be any threats there besides the occasional storm. The dragon who carried me back home every night but didn’t seem to extend the courtesy to the others who crashed here. The dragon who became extremely upset anytime I tried to mention humans being on this island. Who didn’t answer my questions even though he had to know something. Who towered over everything and must have seen what happened that day. I’ve climbed onto his head a few times to get a better lay of the land and there’s no way he didn’t see either of the boats or the dozen or so humans exploring the woods and travelling across the plains. He can see everything.

So what about all this made him so upset?

A possibility wormed its way into my head then. An ugly one but one I couldn’t really afford to write off. Not yet.

The dragon currently lies nearby, basking in the sun as I tried to recall the shape of the forest from what I saw from his point of view. I’m trying to make a map and he’s trying to take a nap. And it’s almost endearing seeing him like this, his eyes closed in contentment as he fans out his wings to absorb as much of the sunlight as he can.

And then I jump a little when he shifts slightly, turning to look at me for a long moment before he goes back to trying to sleep. I can just barely hold his gaze.

There’s a knife strapped to my belt today, hidden under my shirt so the dragon can’t see it. And soon, it will have its use.

I jump when a caw echoes over the plains, turning to see the dragon watching me again. I now find his gaze almost unnerving but still I hold it with a thin smile. The beast caws again, cocking his head slightly at me. A question.

…did he notice the blade?

A sudden breeze sweeps over the hills and causes me to shiver. And that’s when I realize I’m drenched in sweat. The dragon calls to me again, its eyes skewed with what I swear might be…concern. I find for once I can’t answer the question, the words stolen from me by the fear of what I’m about to do and the breeze again. I shiver harder and the beast gets up.

I’m scared now. But the dragon only moves to lie down next to me, shielding me from the wind and trying to warm me with his body heat.

….his neck now mere meters from my belt.

I swallow. He’s sweet. He’s been so nice to me and yet I…

I…

“…hey.”

The beast caws back and my heart pangs. But if my hunch is right then

…this thing killed Jax.

Nothing makes sense anymore but this dragon makes even less so. Nothing about him adds up. Why does he carry me back to the mainland everyday? Why me but not all the others that have been here? Why does he get so upset when I mention them? Why does he care about me so much? It had to mean something. It had to. What if he did kill them? In a fit of rage or hunger or territorial aggression. Or maybe just on accident, his huge size accidentally leading to the death of dozens. What if he felt bad about it and wanted to make amends by not making the same mistake twice? What if he saw me, the only human he’s seen in over a year, as nothing more than a second chance. What if, what if, what if

I get up slowly and step forward, moving to unsheathe the knife from my belt as I do.

The dragon caws again, probably still waiting for my question but I ignore him for now.

If this thing killed Jax then he will die. And then maybe I’ll die too.

The dragon tries to call out again but this time, when I try to take another step towards the thing’s throat, he does something different.

The shimmering blue wall in front of me shifts

And his eyes land on me mid-step.

And now he goes silent.

And I don’t know what to say. There’s too many emotions at once now, the rage, the sorrow, the grief, everything all at once, everything screaming inside me as I look at what I’m doing. I’m hurting a murderer. I’m hurting an innocent creature.

I’m hurting a friend.

I expect the dragon to do something, anything at all but he doesn’t. The blade shakes in my hand but still the dragon doesn’t move. He could flee, kill me, but instead he just waits. For retribution, out of fear.

To see what I’m going to do.

And I…don’t know what to do.

And so, as the seconds stretch on and still I remain frozen, the dragon finally decides to make a move. But not the one I was expecting.

The dragon, the huge, terrifying, friendly bird dragon simply lies back down without a word, leaning in until his neck is pressed to the blade.

And all at once I move, jolting my hand back and all but throwing the knife away before turning back to the massive wall of flesh in front of me. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?”

The dragon doesn’t respond to the question, only letting out a surprised squawk when I all but hurl myself at him, throwing my arms over the wall of his neck as tears start to pool in my eyes. “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH…oh my God, are you hurt? I-I can’t…I…WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?”

I can feel sobs wracking through my body as I press my face into him. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I-”

I can feel the dragon pushing against me slightly now and I only hug him tighter. “Why are you doing this? Why are you doing any of this? I just…I don’t understand. I…I…”

The dragon starts purring quietly and it only causes me to cry harder. “Why do you care so much about me? Don’t you value your own life? Why don’t you fight back? I…why…why are you…”

Something occurs to me then. Retribution. Maybe what he wanted was retribution?

“I…,” I take some time to try calming down before I continue. “…hey.”

The dragon gives a quiet chirp between purrs.

“You…you’ve been here for some time right?”

I can feel him nod now.

“So much about you just…doesn’t make sense to me and I know…I know this topic upsets you for whatever reason but for now, I…could I ask you something?”

A pause.

Then a small nod.

“Did…did you kill my friend?”

The dragon shakes his head.

“Has anyone here killed my friend?”

Again, the dragon shakes his head.

I swallow before I ask the last one.

“Is he still alive?”

And now he gives a slight nod.

And I take his word.

I stay with my arms spread over as much of his neck as I can while he keeps purring, eventually moving so he can lean his head against me like he always does, chirping and whining and squawking until I finally calm down. And then we just stay like that for a long time. At sunset, he finally moves again, picking me up by the back of my shirt as always, pulling me off the ground and turning to go back to the beach. But once he crosses the forest, he keeps going forward instead, ducking through the opening to his cave and carrying me to the back before he finally sits down. He moves to tuck his legs beneath him before setting me down on his back and pushing his face into me once more.

“You’re not going to make me leave tonight?”

The dragon shakes his head.

I move to lean my weight against him. “…are you sure? …after everything I just-”

The dragon nudges me slightly, cawing a few times before settling down against me again.

“I just…don’t understand you at all. If it’s not out of guilt then…why? Why are you being so nice to me?”

The dragon just caws a few more times and I sigh. There is a reason he’s doing this, one not tied to guilt and he’s even told me a few times. But I can’t understand what he’s saying. There has to be a way around this somehow. This dragon can understand me. He, along with everything on the island, they’re all weirdly…human. There has to be something I can do.

But for now, I’m drained and, for once, actually tired. I lean into him and close my eyes. “We’ll figure this out somehow.”

The dragon caws.

“I…thank you for trusting me but please take better care of yourself, alright?”

The bird doesn’t respond to this besides leaning more of his weight into me but the words almost make me smile. I used to say them to Jax all the time before he...disappeared, I guess.

This dragon…reminds me a lot of him, as weird as that sounds. If I didn’t know any better, I’d almost say…

…ah, that’s just the grief talking.

…

-

I stare down at the crude map I'd drawn as my head bobs down once more, followed by another round of rumbling purrs.

"You having fun back there?"

This inquiry is met with a quiet squawk before a heavier weight rubs against my scalp, the purring quickly picking up once more.

Recently, the dragon has taken a liking to eating or grooming or playing with my hair. I'm not really sure to be honest but it's not hurting anyone and he seems to enjoy so I just let him.

He’s been…happier lately. Ever since I’d almost fucking killed him. It’s hard to tell but there were always the subtle signs along with the…not so subtle ones. His purring for one. And I can hear the sound of his tail dragging across the grass in the distance.

He’s been hanging around me far more often too, waiting for me at the beach now and following me wherever I went. It was…nice having him around. Comfortable.

Familiar.

I purse my lips, scratching out the rough shape of the valley we’re in, the bird’s purring making it damn near impossible to draw a straight line but still I persist. It’s not the only thing causing my head to rattle though.

This beast has grey eyes. The same physique, the same reactions, the same everything as Jax but…

I stare at my map for a long, long moment before I finally speak.

“Hey.”

The dragon grunts in acknowledgement.

“…can I ask you a…kinda weird question?”

A small nod.

“Are you…”

And the question dies in my throat but all the same the dragon waits.

The dragon told me Jax was still alive. The dragon was trying to tell me a lot of things.

“I…I never asked you for your name.” I was avoiding the question now. “I’m Emelia but you can call me Mia if you want.”

And the dragon nods, a small squawk ringing out like he’s trying to say my name.

After a moment of silence, I think of something, hesitantly flipping my map over and writing my name on the back of it before moving to stand up. The dragon gets the message and moves his beak off my head, turning to me in question. I hold out the paper to him and point at the name.

“Mia,” I say again and the dragon nods slightly.

There’s the island…it traps people with strong currents and it’s filled with strange monsters. Strange passive monsters. There’s Jax, who wouldn’t hurt a fly, who’s apparently still alive, but who the dragon never carried back to the mainland. There’s the dragon, who seems to care about me a lot despite only knowing me a little more than a month. The dragon who carries me back to the mainland every night regardless of that fondness. The dragon who knows where Jax is, who seems to get hurt whenever I mention him.

“…do you have a name?”

The dragon nods, his eyes shining now and my heart pangs. He stares at me for a moment too long before he moves to pick me up, standing up and stepping through the forest before arriving at the beach. I almost think he’s sick of the questions but then he raises a talon and starts dragging a claw through the sand. It takes me a second to realize what he’s doing but I can feel my heart slowly start to pick up with anticipation.

He's writing.

And the letters are messy but

J

I watch in silence.

A

I try to smother my hope but my heart pounds.

X.

Jax.

Jax.

The name now carved into the beach as I watch the dragon slowly withdraws his talon.

Waiting for my reaction.

Jax.

It’s hard to see the name through tears now but still I stare at it.

“…like…like my Jax?”

The dragon who looks like Jax, who acts like Jax, who is Jax, ducks his head slightly like he always does when he’s embarrassed and I feel a sob shake through me.

“I…you…could you put me down?”

The drago- Jax does after a moment, turning his head to look at me once my feet touch the ground again.

I open and close my mouth a few times, trying to think of what to say as tears pour down my face and the literal dragon who is my long lost friend watches me. But then,

“…Jax.”

Jax squawks back and for once I think I know what he’s trying to say.

I hold out my arms to him and he leans his fucking giant bird beak into them, starting to whimper and lean into me as I cry. But once we both start to calm down and are just taking each other in in the relative silence, I find I can’t resist saying what I need to.

“…show business really changed you, huh.”

Jax pushes me over.

-

I wake with a start and immediately I can tell something’s off.

Jax is next me, sound asleep and leaning his head against me as huge gusts of wind shoot out of his nostrils. I look around the room, trying to find anything different when movement just behind me makes me jump. I’m on my feet in an instant and looking around wildly but besides me and Jax, there doesn’t seem to be anyone else-

THERE

I spin around and there’s nothing.

I can feel the tension rise in my shoulders as I look around wildly and

Movement out of the corner of my eye

I spin around and this time something brushes against my legs and making me jump before the feeling disappears.

I’m starting to get annoyed now and this time there’s this weird movement coming from my lower back. Without spinning again, I slowly reach around until my hands land on something furry and I pull back with a yelp.

The sound echoes faintly through the cave and slowly Jax starts to stir.

He looks around for a moment before his eyes land on me.

And then they widen.

Before I can even ask, Jax grabs me by the back of my shirt, pulling me into the air before he starts walking forward. He stops just outside his cave, his talons inches from the treeline before he lets out a caw from between his closed beak.

A caw that…sounds a lot like a voice.

Jax’s voice.

“Hey! Is anyone awake right now? I need help!” The words are muffled like he’s speaking through clenched teeth.

Because he fucking is.

“Would you quiet down, son? It’s way too early for this.”

Another voice now, this one sounding like a grumpy old man. I watch as miles below us, the manticore emerges from between the trees, clearly disgruntled as he stops at Jax’s feet to glare up at him. His eyes fix on me for a few seconds before he lets out a tired sigh. “Not you again.”

Jax just nods slightly, the actions leaving me swaying before he realizes and ducks to set me down in the dirt. “Mia has a tail! She’s already changing and I don’t know what to do! I-Is there any way to fix this? Will it disappear if I take her back to the mainland? Will it stop? Is it reversable? Can I-”

“Calm down, son. She’s likely just as scared as you are and panicking isn’t going to solve anything. I…look, have you even asked her how she’s feeling right now?”

“But…Mia can’t understand me.”

“Does that look like the face of someone who doesn’t understand?”

Jax stops at that, slowly looking down to meet my gaze again. He ducks his head down to get a better look at me. “Mia?”

I’m still too shocked to speak, all the new information still banging around in my head as I stare at him. I can understand Jax. I attacked an old man unprovoked. I have a fucking tail. I-

“Mia?” I feel Jax’s beak nudge me and instinctively lay a hand on the smooth surface. Jax cocks his head slightly before something occurs to him. “…blink twice if you can understand me.”

I blink twice and the man hums.

Jax’s dragon form designed and drawn by @saltycharacters

Mia’s final form drawn by @crazkawsay

original design by noahdopt on Deviantart

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Outbreak Pt 3 (LU in Healthcare)

(Content warning, this is a plague fic, it will likely hit close to home, and there’s dark humor and character death in this part)

It started off as a whisper, but the whisper became a chatter, a groan, constant and disturbing and growing ever closer.

Cases were on the rise in the city, though the surrounding area seemed unaffected still, for now. City officials were growing concerned, and restrictions were starting to be enacted. People were asked to stay home, if possible. As for the hospital and squads…

Hyrule squinted at his email. "Wait. Didn't... didn't they say we could use alcohol wipes to clean the equipment?"

"Yeah," Mo called from the kitchenette in the station.

"Now it says we can only use bleach wipes."

Mo groaned. "Isn't that like the third policy change this week?"

"I'm still trying to figure out if we're doing a specific isolation truck or not anymore," Aurora mumbled. "Like we just had one truck dedicated to the high risk iso cases, and now we're getting so many calls for it that it's a moot point anyway."

"I think the last email said put plastic over everything for Arfy patients and then wipe everything down that you use," Mo replied.

"Wait, which email?"

Hyrule sighed. This was getting ridiculous. And he was getting just a little nervous. “When in doubt, just bleach everything, I guess.”

Aurora huffed. “Did you see the email about the respirators?”

“Which email?” Mo threw his hands in the air, exasperated. “I’ve got twenty new emails!”

“I suppose that means you’ll actually have to read them now,” Aurora noted with a snort.

“Do you all think it’ll get worse before it gets better?” Dawn asked, wringing her hands worriedly. “The OMD made it sound like that would be the case.”

“Our medical director knows more than I do,” Hyrule shrugged. “If he says it’s going to get worse—”

“No, he didn’t just say that, he said ‘it’s not a matter of if the wave hits us, but when,’” Aurora quoted, standing. “He scared the hell out of Dawn.”

“They’re pretty foreboding words,” Hyrule commented darkly, looking away. It was the main reason he was getting nervous. But he was also steeling himself. If they were in for a fight, he would face it head on.

“Okay, but what does any of this have to do with the email about the respirators?” Mo asked as he scrolled frantically through his email.

“Oh, we’re supposed to wear N95s now,” Aurora answered with a wave of her hand.

Hyrule blinked. “Wait. Aren’t—aren’t we supposed to get fit tested for those?”

“Oh, yeah,” Aurora nodded, rolling her eyes. “Here’s your official fit test: pick a mask that fits.”

“We’re all going to die, aren’t we?” Dawn questioned worriedly, hugging herself.

“Nobody’s died from Arfy yet, I don’t think,” Mo noted. “At least not here.”

“People have died,” Aurora corrected.

“Well, maybe we’ll die, then,” Mo amended.

Hyrule laughed while Aurora swatted his partner. Well… at least they’d die fighting. But he really hoped it wouldn’t get to that point.

While the rescue squads struggled to keep up with policies and slapped shoddy safety regulations into place, the hospital clamped down even further. Visitor policies had officially been revoked as of today, and it made all the providers somewhat uneasy.

In some aspects, it was helpful. In others, it made things that much harder.

Arfy patients were medical patients. Which meant the medical floor and ICU was quickly filling up while other parts of the hospital either maintained their quota or decreased as people stayed home. More and more, Four found himself floating to his friend’s ICU, and he felt fairly out of his depths about it. The one good thing was that he got to spend time with Dot. But as cases rose, so did the stress, the worry, and the heartache.

The ICU felt less like a unit where critically ill people got better and more like a place to go to die.

Four and Dot had the same patient assignment for four days in a row. It was the same assignment because nothing had changed with the patients. Intubated, sedated, paralyzed, some proned. The amount of sedation required to keep their patients under was far more than Four was used to, and it was insane how little it would take for their oxygen saturation to drop. Any semblance of activity in the body increased oxygen demand, and the instant oxygen demand increased, no amount of intervention from the ventilator seemed to help. ECMO was a word Four had hardly heard in his trauma ICU, but he heard it on a near daily basis now, being considered at rounds, being initiated with someone else’s patient.

Four was exhausted. His face was breaking out from wearing a respirator for twelve hours at a time. His feet and knees and hips hurt from standing in isolation rooms for three to four hours at a time trying to cluster all his care. And now, with the visitor restriction enacted…

Visitors were hit or miss, particularly in Four’s world. Trauma precipitated drama, and while family could be infinitely helpful and supportive, he’d also seen things go awry, had to deescalate fights or call security. In some aspects, he was thankful there were no visitors while all of this was happening; he was tired of having to explain that yes, you have to wear this gown and gloves and mask, no you can’t kiss your loved one while they’re intubated and sedated with a contagious disease… but still. He couldn’t imagine how hard it was on the family - the patients were sedated to the point that they shouldn’t be aware of anything, but the family had to agonize over the matter at home.

He didn’t like it. He understand the logic. But he didn’t like it.

And so here he sat, holding a patient’s hand while they withdrew care. Here he sat, being the only witness to someone’s last breaths while their family mourned from afar.

Four watched the heart rate steadily drop. He watched the oxygen saturation plummet. He muted the red alarms as the monitor screamed that his patient was dying, that something should be done, like an accusation and call to arms when Four knew this particular fight was over.

He wasn’t a particularly religious person, but he said a prayer for the patient and the family either way. He found himself praying a lot these days, honestly.

While the visitor policy took its toll inside the frame of work, the restrictions both inside and outside the hospital were causing further stress on everyone. Warriors had basically banned Wind from seeing him, opting to stay with Time and Malon instead, leaving the kid in the apartment. He brought food deliveries to the door, asked if Wind needed anything, but he always did so when Wind wasn’t awake - the teenager had swore up and down that if anybody got Arfy he’d take care of them, and Warriors was terrified of that promise as it was basically a threat. Time agreed that Wind didn’t need to get involved, much to the teenager’s chagrin, and Wind found himself already struggling from the loneliness and the frustration of trying to study for classes online when nobody knew what they were doing or how long this would last.

Meanwhile, Wild sat in his room, fingers aimlessly tracing over each other, the smell of bleach so fresh in his nose from scrubbing everything relentlessly for hours on end that he might as well have inhaled a bottle of it. His chest hurt. Not to mention that new disinfectant they were told to use made him cough a lot.

And he worried. Because… it had been a few days since he’d seen his father. Legend had given him updates through his sister (and made Wild swear not to tell anyone about her), and it had sounded like he was improving as expected. But now, he… the rest of the family…

It felt like a blessing and a curse. It was a guarantee that Wild couldn’t run into his mother or sister by accident, but it was also a situation that his mind screamed that he address.

He couldn’t just… he couldn’t just leave his father isolated and alone recovering in the hospital in the midst of an outbreak. He couldn’t.

But what if visiting him made things so much worse? What if it stressed his father’s recovering heart? What if it triggered more traumatic memories for Wild? He was terrified of getting anywhere near the man while he was awake, but his heart screamed that he go to him.

Wild refused to be a coward. And he refused to be heartless, despite how anxious this entire situation made him, despite how his mind screamed he keep away. So that night, when he got on to work, he took a delivery to the cardiovascular ICU and paused in front of a doorway, looking hopefully for a familiar nurse.

“Link? Wild?”

Jumping, Wild turned around to see the nurse in question, watching him scrutinously. She smiled (or at least, he assumed she did, based on how her eye crinkled above her mask) in recognition. “I thought it was you. You here to see your dad?”

Wild swallowed and nodded.

“Good, because the drama I’ve been trying to avoid has been driving me insane,” Legend’s sister said lightheartedly, but despite the casualness of her tone, the words sank into Wild’s stomach like a stone.

“Drama?” He questioned quietly.

“Nothing like… bad, I suppose, but still,” the nurse explained. “I’d be in there taking care of him and overhear him talking to his wife and he’d mention that he swore he saw you. I’m not entirely sure she’s convinced. She seems hopeful, though. But I figured it was best not to bring it up myself since I, ah, don’t know what’s going on.”

Wild felt his blood freeze. His father remembered? And he’d told his mother?

Great. This was… this was just great.

“Go see him,” Legend’s sister prompted gently. “I can tell he loves you very much and just wants to know you’re ok.”

Wild’s eyes unexpectedly burned with tears in an instant, and he was grateful he was wearing a mask to hide his expression. He nodded, hesitantly making his way towards the room.

It all seemed so normal, seeing his father sitting in a recliner looking at his phone. Wild wasn’t even entirely sure he’d recovered memories of his father like that, but somehow it seemed familiar. Abel hadn’t noticed him yet, engrossed in whatever he was looking at, brow slightly furrowed. That expression drew memories, a familiar scrutiny that he would often give Wild himself or his sister, a quiet concern and sternness that made Wild want to stiffen up and simultaneously run to him.

Damn it all, he’d missed him.

Wild swallowed his fears and stepped forward, hoping that this wouldn’t be a disaster. He knocked on the door, initially so quietly that his father didn’t hear him over the chatter of the news on the television. He knocked again.

His father looked up. Stared a moment. Went a shade paler.

Wild hastily stepped forward. “W-wait, don’t get worked up—”

His father stood, seeming mostly steady on his feet, and tried to walk to him, heedless of the cords and oxygen tubing attached, and Wild hastily met him part of the way before he ripped everything out of the wall. Abel immediately pulled him to his chest in the tightest hug Wild had ever felt, and…

And Link sank into the embrace, crying.

[kirisclangen]

Zelda

She/her, 65 moons, cis molly

[invinciblerodent]

Oh yeah, the Veilguard trailer does look excellent, I sure love that deeply charming, yet unromanceable dwarf man voiced by Brian Bloom!

(something something weird that it happened three times)

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

wheezes i made. a game! a functioning playable game that i've had a lot of fun playtesting so far! sat down and made the core rules in one session yesterday, wrote up another few chunks for guiding/prompting the roleplay part this morning. and i have a bunch of variants drafting and those are definitely still in the works lmao, but the rules as they are are 100% playable and i am extremely proud of having gotten them down this fast.

there is definitely going to be further drafting etc, and i'm hoping to be able to format it with an actual graphical layout at some point. and also make like an actual proper intro post for it instead of just dropping it hot on my blog for whoever happens to be following me. in the meantime though here you go, if anyone decides to try it out have fun and i'd love to hear how that goes. enjoy!

[cws: horror, mentions of death, gore, and injury, possible themes of stalking. it's a game where you're being hunted down and have to prepare for what happens when you can't run anymore, so it has the potential to get real dark depending on how you play it lmao]

-

Core Rules

-

-

Guiding the Fiction

-

(this section is probably a lot less coherent and has more repetition going on than i'd like, definitely is going to need a redraft or two, but i think it gets the mechanics across in a usable way as-is. meant to get further into the last set of examples, but i had to catch myself before i got carried away and ended up just filling out a d100 table. that'd be fun to do at some point but not by dropping it in the middle of the rulebook lmao)

-

and that's the game so far! if anyone reads these and finds any specific bits to be confusing, please feel free to ask questions; i want to do my best to make sure my games fit together and are as clear as possible, with or without graphical gamebook format for visual aid, so fresh eyes are always welcome. in the meantime thank you for your time, and should you check it out may you have fun being chased by a Funny Little Guy

[yellowloid]

FINALLY managed to make some progress on my wip thank GOD and all the saints in heaven for this christmas miracle

[chornayadrakoshig]

Almost done! 🎉 I'll try to finish it tomorrow

[perky89]

In theory, in theory, just in theory, would it be possible to commission someone to make art of Professor Layton (normal design in top image) in this outfit (outfit I want Layton in in bottom image)?:

Not making an offer!

Cause like I realllly need to save as much money as possible because American college is a scam along with the rest of the education system, but I'm not going down that firey hell hole at 7:02 in the morning.

....No, I did not literally just spend 25 dollars to get a cake with "Joyful Female Parent Earth Rotation" written on it for my mom on mothers day, shut up.

But seriously, I don't want to do it now, but for future reference, could I do that and how would I go about doing that? I've heard of people doing it, but I'm very much new to Tumblr, so I don't really know how it works.

[lunarflare64]

I'm not looking forward to the next few months. My new Danno resolution is to make an edit of my banner for next April 3rd. As in, no procrastinating, tomorrow I start it, its gonna take forever

[attleboy]

he did not know

sorry about the pomni rt spam... is what i would say if i had more than 1 follower. i am not sorry clowngirl be upon ye

[the-family-fortune]

I heard that it (or at least just the art book) is supposed to come out before the end of June but idk if that’s true or not. Looking it up just shows that it’ll come out august 21st with no actual proof so I’d take that date with a grain of salt.

[labs]

Communities closed beta is here

Hello again! We’re back with an update on Communities, a big idea we had last year that we’ve been working on steadily since then. We’re abnormally jazzed to announce that we’re beginning a “closed beta” phase of this new feature, which means many of you will get to play with it soon!

We want to build this whole thing together, with as much input from all of you as possible. We’ve read and re-read the feedback from our previous post, and we’ve been surveying and interviewing people about this idea for a few months now. But it’s time to open this up even more for hands-on testing.

We’ve already begun reaching out to most of you who interacted with our previous post, as promised, with a survey asking whether you’d be interested in helping (check your email!). Over the next couple of weeks, we’ll be using the results of that survey to narrow down who we’d like to help test Communities in these initial batches.

The process is looking a bit like this:

If you received a Communities survey email to your registered Tumblr email address, fill it out! If you’re interested in helping us in this beta test period, that’s your way of potentially getting early access. If you did not receive an email with the Communities survey, don’t fret! Communities will be rolling out to more people as we expand our testing. 

We’ll go through the results and choose a diverse range of community ideas to gather a wide array of feedback.

Selected testers will receive a second survey with more detailed questions about their proposed community. Very practical stuff, like the name, title, and description, whether it should be public or private, the About page contents, its own community guidelines, and more.

We will create the new Tumblr community on your behalf using the information supplied. We’re building the tools that will let people create and edit communities themselves, so eventually you’ll be able to change them without needing our help. But for now, we’re creating and editing them for you, as needed.

After we’ve created the community, you’ll be made its first admin. Everything from here on out is up to you – Tumblr staff won’t be in your community (unless you invite us, of course). You’ll be able to invite anyone on Tumblr to your community. However, your community will have a population cap to start, limiting how many people can be in it and invited, as a way of keeping this beta test somewhat contained and manageable for us. We’ll be able to raise that population cap for communities that are growing and if we want to test further in that direction.

And throughout, we’ll be asking for feedback, both in some special communities for everyone in the closed beta, and via more surveys and the Support tickets we receive.

This closed beta version of Communities is far from finished, and that’s part of the reason we want to start opening it up to more of you for feedback. There are a lot of rough edges and known issues, but we think it’s far enough along that it’s usable enough for testing. We need feedback in order to feel like we’re building the right thing.

The very first public community is called “Communities Feedback” for this reason! We want everyone helping us test out communities to tell us about it, so people in this closed beta will be in there by default. We want to use that space to be more public and real-time about new pieces we’re building, bugs we’re fixing, things we know are broken, and answers to common questions. There is an additional, private community for community admins, to help shape how administrating and moderating these spaces will work. And if you don’t want to use those spaces, you can always use the “Feedback” category in our Support form.

Stay tuned for more, and keep an eye on that Communities Feedback space if you’d like to see how things are changing over time.

[writersrkive]

Don't shut up | Spencer Reid

summary: Spencer is used to people who constantly tell him to shut up, but somehow, he feels even more embarrassed and sad when he thinks you want him to stop talking after looking at the tired and confused expression you have when he's trying to help you. The thing is you hate when people do that to Spence and would spend years just listening to his voice.

genre: fluff

pairing: Early seasons!Spencer Reid x bau!reader

warnings: mentions of the team shutting Spencer down. Derek and JJ being a little mean to him when he's spreading information. Spencer being a cutie potato. Mention of a stomachache and its causes (mention of miscarriage as one of the causes, but nothing happens). Reader not being a native english speaker, but just a slight mention.

a/n: Dr. Spencer Reid is a genius.... I am not. I literally had to search for information and copy-paste here in some parts, so if there's misinformation, it's Google's fault, lmao. I wrote this yesterday when I was about to sleep, so I'm sorry if something is wrong with the writing (even though I already edited). English isn't my first language, please be kind <3.

Masterlist Spanish ver. On Wattpad (coming soon)

Spencer and you arrived early that morning. He hated being late for anything. He couldn't afford to be late if he wanted to stick as closely as possible to his assigned schedule, especially because he took public transport. On the other hand, you had no choice but to arrive early when you woke up at four in the morning thanks to a severe stomachache and couldn't go back to sleep.

That's how your conversation started. Your genius workmate was surprised to see you, first hour in the morning, when he walked in the office, even before Hotch arrived.

“Are you feeling better?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows. You couldn't deny that the expression was too cute for your own good.

“Yeah… I think so. It's not even the stomach ache that bothers me, it's the fact that even if I was sleepy, I couldn't fall asleep again. You know? That happens to me a lot. Once I open my eyes, I can't go back to sleep. I've also been feeling mildly unwell for a week, but even though the medication is controlling it, it doesn't stop."

At this point, he already set up his desk, leaving his briefcase on his own chair to walk over to you and sit at your desk, next to the chair you were sitting in, to listen to you attentively and answer.

“The brain works with different phases of sleep: light sleep, deep sleep, and REM sleep. The cycle usually restarts every eighty to one hundred minutes, and we typically have four to six cycles each night.”

Hotch came out of the elevator and walked upstairs after both of you waved at him, and he let out a soft “good morning”. Emily arrived a few seconds later. You greeted her too, as she took place on her desk, but that didn't stop your conversation.

“So, it's completely normal that we wake up in the middle of the night because of that process, but if it is frequent, for three months or more, it may be a symptom of insomnia.”

Your view went to the floor, and your head nodded in a semi-unconscious movement, because although you knew that your sleep cycle was ruined by work, you had not come to that conclusion, maybe that was it.

“Now, the stomachache…” He said, taking one pen from your pencil case to concentrate. He usually never took other people's belongings or shared his own stuff because of the germs, but somehow, after a few years of working together, he had come to have a good amount of closeness with you to borrow some stuff from you. Months ago, it hadn't gone unnoticed by Penelope that Spencer had a box full of pens reserved for you, in case you needed one, nor the fact that he denied JJ one of them once, when the blonde girl needed something to write with quickly.

“The causes can be the most common, such as gas, indigestion, a muscle injury, or stress. Although there are also more serious causes: gastrointestinal infections, inflammatory bowel disease, irritable bowel syndrome, ectopic pregnancy or miscarriage..."

“Wow, what are you trying to do? Scare her?” Derek's voice invaded the place and Emily smirked.

“What? No, I'm just saying the possibilities…” Spencer whispered, looking down, a little worried that he might actually scared the person he cared more, besides his mom.

“It's okay.” You answer loud enough so your friends and coworkers would hear. “Thanks, Spence. I already went to the doctor, so I have none of… those.” I gave him a little smile. “But about stress…” The sentence hung in the air, so Spencer looked up and continued speaking automatically.

“Stress can cause stomach pain because the autonomic nervous system of the gastrointestinal tract reacts to the same hormones and neurotransmitters as the brain. This is because the digestive system is connected to the nervous system, and the enteric nervous system, which is located in the digestive system, is able to send and receive impulses and assimilate emotions.” He started to talk faster.

Your focus on the genius boy and his explanation was sincere, but maybe it was the fact that you didn't rest well, plus the fact that he was speaking too fast and not vocalizing all the syllables, that for a moment your brain didn't process what he was saying.

It was weird. At some point you didn't even hear words, just sounds from his mouth. That didn't happen to you for a really long time because you already had experience with the native speakers, even if english wasn't your mother language. The exhausting feeling of not being able to sleep well was definitely to blame.

While your brain was coming to that conclusion, Spencer could only see your furrowed brow, tense jaw, tilted head, and dissociated look.

“You want me to shut up, right?” That whisper was enough for you to come back to reality. His cheeks were red and his eyes looked a little sad, not to mention the way his mouth formed a line like whenever he felt awkward.

“Yes, please!” Derek answered instead, leaning back in his seat and looking up with his arms outstretched as if he'd had to deal with seven unsubs in the five minutes he'd been there, listening from his place to the information Spencer was giving you.

“Little genius boy got excited… again.” JJ said, looking at some documents in front of her, opening her eyes wide in an expression of tiredness and disinterest.

The young profiler stood up from your desk thinking about returning to his chair, a little embarrassed, but you took his pinky with yours —that way you wouldn't make him feel uncomfortable in case he wasn't in the mood for physical touch, something he refused unless it was you. Again, another special treat—. “Wait. It wasn't like that.” Hazel eyes looked at you intently, still with a bit of doubt. “I'm sorry Spencer. Yes, you got excited, but that's not something bad.”

“It isn't?” He questioned.

“No, but you started to speak fast, and the fact that there are some words that I have a hard time processing in English and I couldn't quite catch what you were saying because I didn't sleep enough, well, that distracted me. Would you mind repeating it again, slower?” This time, you were the one with warm cheeks.

“Oh. Are you sure you don't want me to shut up?” The boy was actually intrigued and a little surprised.

“Why would I want that?” The fact that your teammates often shut Spencer up when he tried to share extra information, or information that he had been asked about, was something you had noticed from the moment you started working with the team. You thought that was rude. You understood that sometimes Spencer got excited, gave information that was perhaps better saved for another time since you were investigating a case, or people could be tired and want silence, but the team either silenced him or made fun of him most of the time. Plus, there weren't many other things you liked more than hearing his voice.

The sweet, soothing tone of his words helped you sleep on the jet after a long case, or made you want to hear more about whatever he was talking about. Feeling like he was sharing with you, a mere mortal, some of the vast knowledge he had was nice.

“I'm always happy to hear whatever you need to say, even if it's about something I don't understand. And, right now, you are helping me a lot, so, please, don't shut up.” The crimson color returned to the tall boy's face, this time not because he was uncomfortable. Your kind and somewhat complicit smile made his heart race, like almost every time he was with you. Spencer knew that no matter how tired he got, he would never shut up if you wanted him to keep talking.

[darnell-la]

Wolverine forcing you to squirt for the first time?? Pretty please?

note: if you’d like an older Wolverine, you can request again. we wrote this one too fast and made it the younger Wolverine. it’s still hot!

follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits, and memes of the people we write about!

———

“Can’t tell me you’ve never squirted before and expect me to move on with life,” Logan said after placing you on the bathroom counter he had dragged you to during a drinking game.

The party was loud and you could still hear people playing Truth or Shot. After one of the girls asked if a man had made you squirt, and you answered that you hadn’t even done such a thing, Logan knew he had to do something about it.

He had made an excuse, asking if you could come fill up his cup with him. Of course, you came with him. He was a good friend, but you didn’t know he’d throw his cup away and drag you to the nearest bathroom.

“L-Logan -- Calm down,” Y/n gasped as his teeth sunk into her neck. “Ah uh,” he crowled, needing to give her what she deserved. “Can smell you, baby -- Can’t just leave you like this,” the man’s hands ripped at her panties after he pulled her dress up.

The young girl let out a low and shaky moan as his finger pushed inside of her. His eyes glued right on her face, watching her fall apart on his fingers in an instant.

“C’mon, baby, give it to me,” he growled, as he turned and twisted his finger in and out of her. “Too much,” she said whined as her hands fell on his shoulder. “Fuck, there’s no way,”

Logan couldn’t believe it, It seemed like she was a virgin. There’s no way one finger would make her get like this.

“Don’t lie to me, baby — Just tell me another man’s made you cum,” Logan wanted to know, but he knew the answer already. His eyes still locked onto hers, as her eyes drifted away every few seconds. She felt high, but she hadn’t smoked or drank tonight.

“N-No one has, Logan,” y/n took a while to admit, but thankfully for him, she got it out. The young girl's mind was going crazy. Logan hadn't ever shown a lick of affection towards her, yet now he was worried about whether a man had touched her?

She was confused, but he wasn’t. The thought of another man making her squirt first was unacceptable to him. He couldn’t let that happen.

Logan let his ego get the best of him, but so what? He was going to make her squirt tonight, tomorrow, the day after, and then the days after that. He was going to be the first and then last.

“I know you can take another,” the man said as he pulled out, instantly pushing two in next. “Logan!” The girl moaned at the burning feeling of her walls stretching. She was wet, but she still had to get used to the new and unfamiliar feeling.

“Fuck, yes, baby,” Logan couldn’t get over her. She looked so damn pretty. He wished he had done this months ago. He’ll gain those days back. He’ll spend every day licking at her cunt until she drowns him.

“P-P-Please,” y/n stuttered hard, trying to close her legs, but the man used his free hand to push them back open. He gripped her tightly. She wasn't going to stop him. He needed this.

“Keep your fuckin’ legs open, or I’ll fuck this cunt dumb,” the man threatened, wanting nothing to get in the way of feeling her drench his fingers. She has already coated them with slightly white and clear liquid. She never knew a man would like how much she leaked.

“Logan,” the girl gripped his shoulders tighter with a sob, feeling the knot in her stomach getting harder to control. She was embarrassed, but he wanted all over her whether she wanted to give it to him or not.

“Be a good girl — Make a mess, and I’ll clean that shit right up,” the man told no lie as his two fingers curled. Within seconds, y/n’s mouth parted as her head leaned back. Her eyes crossed as she felt her legs go stiff and her toes curled.

“Augh,” she let out a choked cry as she released on the man’s fingers. “Oh, that’s it, baby — That’s it!” The man finger fucked her cunt a bit harder to get every last drop out of her.

“P-Please,” the girl pushed at his wrists, needing a break, but he wouldn't stop. She gave up after a while and decided to pull the man into a tight hug as she struggled to breathe.

Y/n was still leaking down his hand. She couldn’t stop. He had made the girl go on for almost an hour until she passed out on his chest. breathing lightly from the exhaustion.

Logan couldn’t help but chuckle, knowing he had the girl dumb and cute, all for him. She was his. She marked him, and later when he sweet talks her into taking him as hers, he'll mark her.

[fredgeorgegredfeorge]

Green-Eyed Monster | F.W.

For the first time ever, Fred Weasley finds himself jealous over the only person in the world he needn’t worry a bit about.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x f!reader

Word count: 8k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, oral + fingering (f!receiving, (lots of) dirty talk, name calling, praise/degradation, dom/sub dynamic, some nipple play, touch of a breeding kink, possessiveness/jealousy, some toxic themes, established relationship, swearing, drinking, arguing, angst, fluff, sorry if miss any!

first hp fic in a very long time! what better to post than this mess (jealous, possessive, sexy mess). basically pwp—let me know what you think! (Barely edited at all lmao my apologies)

You sat quietly at George’s desk, eyes focused on a piece of parchment as you both tried to break down the recipe George had scribbled down. There was a hiccup, a hitch in the plan of brewing a batch of Euphoria Elixir for the joke shop, and it was pushing back your plans to place them on the shelves this week. After a few hours of quiet deliberation on his lonesome, George decided to seek your help in hopes of speeding up the process.

So, the two of you put your heads together and re-read the ingredient list a million times, wondering how the hell it turned out murky green instead of sunshine-y yellow. The cauldron sat smoldering across the room, a rain cloud above it as the bubbly mixture spilled over the sides. Upon first glance, you had stated the absolute obvious.

“Isn’t that supposed to be a rainbow?” You raised an eyebrow, looking at your brother-in-law as he collapsed in his chair.

“Yes, you git.” George rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. You shot him a sharp look, warning him to be nice if he wanted your help. You knew George didn’t mean any of the insults—he was simply frustrated and maybe even a little embarrassed that he could not figure it out by himself. “Sorry, Y/N.” He conceded, realizing he came on a bit too strong.

“S’alright.” You assured him, stepping towards the desk where he sat. “Where’s the ingredient list? We’ll start there.” You offered, knowing you would help no matter how poor of a mood he was in. You loved George almost as much as you loved Fred, if you had to compare. Even if it was in a different way, you had a hard time refusing him when he used the same charm tactics as his twin brother.

After spending so many years in a relationship with Fred, it would be obscure for you not to have a bond with the closest person to him. Over the years, he’d surpassed a friend and had grown into your own brother. You were certain that no matter where life took you and Fred, George would always hold a special place in your heart. When the two opened their shop in Diagon Alley, you volunteered most of your free time to help them in any way you could, and whether it was tweaking new products or doing some of the dirty work, you never really minded.

That evening in specific, Fred was off on some ‘official business’, which really just meant meeting with a potential product buyer at The Leaky Cauldron. Last month, George took the burden of doing so, and they decided it was only fair for him to do it this time. Unfortunately for you, as much as you loved supporting them, it did interfere with your evening plans with him. So, sulking and trying your best to swallow it down, you distracted yourself with stocking shelves downstairs to prepare for another busy day ahead.

You were actually near grateful when George emerged from the office, calling out to you in desperation. It gave you a break from the monotonous back and forth, and someone to talk to. If it could not be Fred, you decided George was the next best.

“So, what’d’ya think it could be?” George asked, peeking over the cauldron that was still spitting back at him. He dodged out of the way, trying his best not to get any of the splashback on his new jumper.

“Well, from what you’ve told me, seems like you put all the right stuff in.” You deducted, pursing your lips slightly as you read over the list for what seemed like the millionth time. “Sad as it sounds, I doubt we can save it now, even if we figure out what happened.” You said, recalling your potions knowledge that Snape had relayed over the years.

“Right, but I’d like to know what’s wrong before I try again.” He explained, taking a moment to look over your sad expression. His eyebrows furrowed, his head cocking to the side as he tried to figure out where it was coming from. “What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Your eyes flickered upwards to meet his, your cheeks tinged red from the heat of the room. Your lips dipped into a frown as you shrugged your shoulders, brushing him off so you did not need to explain yourself. “I know you better than that. Come on, now.” He urged, placing his palms flat against the desk as he leaned towards you, a challenging look in his eye.

You narrowed your brows, keeping a stony expression as you met his gaze. “What’s it to you, Weasley?” You shot back, unsure of where your defensive nature was coming from. Perhaps you weren’t willing to discuss your relationship problems with your boyfriend’s twin brother, or maybe it was because you felt foolish for being upset at all.

“Reckon we’re past that, hmm? Your problems are our problems, and all.” He responded, also unsure of why you were being so reserved with your thoughts. Usually, you were an open book, especially with the two of them.

“My problems aren’t your problems, Georgie.” You shook your head, shutting down the ridiculous notion. “Let’s get back to the real problem, yeah?”

“No, I don’t think so.” George disagreed, his concern now over something completely different. “Is it about Fred?” At that, the tips of your ears began to burn and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “Ah, I see.” A devious smile crossed his lips.

“It’s not a big deal.” You covered your tracks, tapping the ink-less quill against the worn parchment.

“I have a hard time believing you, considering you just lied to me.”

“Lied is a strong word,” you rolled your eyes, quickly realizing that there would be no escaping the conversation. “I didn’t lie about anything.”

“What’s he done?”

“Nothing!” You exclaimed, a dry laugh leaving your lips. “It’s just… I’m just being dramatic.” And it’s true, you were being dramatic. Well, maybe not fully, but that’s what you were trying to convince yourself of. “I just miss him, I suppose. I know you both have been busy, but I think maybe I underestimated how busy you would actually be.” You continued, knowing it was wrong to confide in his twin brother about your relationship issues. Still, it felt good to get it off your chest, to voice the concern and have someone shoot you down, just so you knew you were being irrational. “This is the third night in a row we’ve canceled our plans. I’ll get over it. It’s no big deal.”

“That’s a big deal.” He hummed, sympathizing with you to make you feel better. “Bloody inconsiderate, if you ask me.” But you weren’t asking him, and somehow his justification of your feelings only made you feel worse. “What? Not allowed to speak my mind?”

“No—“ you let out a defeated sigh, slumping down in your seat. “I know that, but I was hoping you would tell me I’ve gone mad, instead.”

“Blimey, Y/N, you’re allowed to be upset. We're busy, yeah, but you’re still his girlfriend.” George said, jumping slightly when the rain cloud above the cauldron let out a crack of thunder. “If you’d rather, we can forget the elixir and grab dinner instead. I’m not Fred, but I’m pretty damn close.” He gave you a cheeky smile, earning an honest laugh from you.

“S’alright, Georgie. Thank you, though.” You appreciated his kindness, but you were sure it would only make your predicament even worse, considering Fred’s recently acquired short-fuse when it came to you and George spending so much time together. It was odd for him to be so protective, so jealous of the one person in the world he needn’t worry about, but it seemed as though the new trait was permanent. Perhaps it came from the fact he was also missing you due to your busy schedules, and how it sometimes seemed you and George were most often left at the shop alone.

“You know, I have noticed that lately.” George continued, leaning against the desk as he reminisced over the last few weeks. “Always seems to be us stuck here together.”

“Mhm.” You mumbled, slowly realizing that you weren’t as insane as you previously thought if he was noticing all of the same things. “Let’s just figure this out so I can get home.”

So you did. A grueling hour spent recounting George’s every step in brewing the elixir left the two of you puzzled and even more frustrated. By that point in the night, you were hunched over the long list of his steps you had jotted down so you could (hopefully) discover what he missed.

“I dunno, Georgie.” You sighed. “Seems like you did everything—“ you cut yourself off, leaning closer to the page on the desk as you caught something you hadn’t seen before.

“What?” He asked, his head snapping towards you. “What is it?”

“You said when you let it simmer, it was turquoise.” You said, looking up at him.

“Yeah, so?” He replied, confused why it was such a big deal.

“It’s meant to be blue.” You explained, a grin on your face as you relayed the information to him.

“Turquoise… blue… same thing, innit?” He asked, standing and walking over to you.

“Maybe to you.” You giggled, pointing to the piece of paper where he missed the step. “After you add the shrivelfig, you have to stir it until it changes color.” He walked up behind you, placing one hand on your arm as he leaned over your opposite shoulder. He smelled of butterbeer, likely due to the one he’d been nursing the entire time you sat together. You immediately noticed the warmth of his body, how similar it felt to how Fred touched you, but how drastically different it was all the same.

“Blimey, you’re right!” He exclaimed, his voice still soft so he was not yelling in your ear. “What would I do without you?” He gave your arm a gentle squeeze, leaning closer and pressing the side of his face to yours in a makeshift hug. His hand dropped to your back, lingering there as the conversation continued.

“It’s nothing, really.” You smiled, closing your eyes to enjoy the warmth for a moment. “So now you know. You can do it again, but make sure to stir it until it’s blue. By tomorrow, we’ll have it bottled and on the shelves just like we planned.”

“Our number one girl, saving the day yet again.” He sighed in relief. “I better get to it—“

Before his thought could finish, the door to the office swung open, cutting him short. Your eyes turned upwards, landing on a slightly drunken version of the boyfriend who’d abandoned your evening plans. The gloss of his eyes and the goofy smile on his lips led you to believe so, and the redness on the apples of his cheeks only solidified it. Only his cheeky grin didn’t last too long when he processed the scene in front of him, how close the two of you were, how heavy George’s hand seemed on your back and how rosy your own cheeks were.

Quickly, his jaw tightened, his gaze narrowing as he tried to decipher the whole situation. His nostrils flared ever so slightly, and his arms raised to cross over his chest. Immediately, you knew what you’d be in for; a long, tiresome argument that changed absolutely nothing. Instead of fighting the silent accusations, defending yourself for no real reason at all, you watched him with the same intensity while you awaited a snide comment.

“So what’s all this, then?” Fred asked, his face clearly conveying all of his emotions.

“Helping Georgie make the elixir while you were off getting sloshed at The Leaky Cauldron.” You muttered, noticing George straighten himself up in hopes of avoiding any further damage.

“I was not getting sloshed, I was doing business.” He corrected, defensive over the fact. “S’pose you were hoping I’d take a little longer, yeah? Give you some more time to cozy up with my brother?”

“Blimey, Fred. If you took any longer, I’d imagine you’d have to move in with the lad.” George took your side on the matter. “At least she wouldn’t have to worry about you missing dinner again.” At that, Fred’s eyes cut to you, immediately understanding where the underlying tension was coming from.

“Is that right?” Fred’s voice was no louder than a whisper, all of the pieces clicking together in an instant. “I don’t suppose the two of you had dinner? Let him fill in for me while I was gone?”

“No, we did not.” You snipped, standing as you gathered the ingredients for George’s second attempt at the brew.

“Yeah, right. What else did he fill in for, sweetheart? Anything you think I should know?” At that, your eyes widened and your face turned red. Your entire body felt like it was engulfed in flames, appalled that he would even think such a thing.

“Piss off, Fred.” You muttered, stepping out from behind the desk as tears stung your eyes. George shot you a sympathetic look as you pushed past his brother and out into the stairwell. You trodded down to the main level, swiping fallen tears away from your cheeks as you rushed out the front entrance of the building.

The cool air of the night was nice, especially after spending so long cramped up in the tiny office space, but it was not as freeing as you might have hoped once you heard footsteps following behind you. Without acknowledging him, you pulled your keys from your pocket, hoping that maybe he forgot his own set and you wouldn’t have to deal with his drunken arguments tonight if you got inside before him.

Of course, you knew that was childish and cruel, because despite being upset with him, loving him was the only thing you knew how to do. You unlocked the front door, holding it open with your boot-clad foot as he stumbled his way behind you. As soon as he passed through the doorway, you continued on your journey to ignore him and tossed your keys on the counter.

“Hey,” Fred reached out, his warm hand landing on your arm, stopping you from running any further from him.

“What?” You snapped, immediately regretting the harshness of your tone. He recoiled at the sound, shocked that you spoke to him in such a way. Usually the two of you saw eye to eye on everything, and in your long standing relationship arguing had never been your thing. Until you left school, you were certain the two of you had never been angry at each other, ever.

“What the bloody hell was that about? I leave for a few hours, and the two of you get on like that? Does that happen every time I step out?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes again, wondering why this became such a problem in the few short months you’d been graduated.

“Merlin, Fred. You’re acting like you caught us in a broom closet.” You tried again to make your way to the bedroom, unwilling to argue a point he knew was blasphemous anyhow. “We were working, not fucking.”

“Yeah, but I bet you would’ve let him, right?” He grabbed your hand, spinning you back around to face him. He pulled you into him, his athletic build never leaving him even after he stopped playing quidditch. “Bitching and moaning cause I couldn’t be home to take you to dinner… if you were so upset, why didn’t you come to me, princess? Tell me what was wrong?” You could smell fire whiskey on his breath, feeling his chest heaving with anger against your own. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal run through you. The slight sneer on his face, the fire in his eyes, and the protective hold he had on you was sending your head spinning with thoughts much less pertinent to the topic at hand.

“Maybe I would have if you spared me the time of day.” You argued, finding yourself short of breath as you realized just how much he towered over you. “But, as it seems, you’ve been too damn busy to spare me a second glance.”

“Christ, when did you get so needy?” His rebuttal came easy, like he’d been waiting to have this fight for weeks. “Weren’t satisfied at home, so you thought my brother could do it for you?”

“Are you daft?” You hissed, feeling his fingers tighten on your hips. You hated that the feeling made you forget about your troubles, urging you to push the argument to the side and settle it in a better, more pleasurable way. “If that’s what I wanted, you think I’d be up here arguing with you?”

“That depends, sweetheart. Were you planning on getting caught?” He raised an eyebrow, the thud of his heart against his chest letting you know just how worked up he was. There was no way he truly believed you would do that to him, especially after all you had been through together. You wondered if maybe the lack of time spent with each other was getting to him, souring his thoughts because he missed you just as much as you missed him. “We may be identical, Princess, but he could never give you what I can.”

You hated to admit it, but for some strange reason, jealousy looked really good on him.

“What, a headache and a poor mood?” You decided to play his game if he wasn’t willing to listen to reason. If he wanted to fight, you could do it too. “I’m sure he could manage. In fact, he could probably do a hell of a lot more.” That seemed to strike a nerve in him, pushing him over the edge in an instant and changing the entire mood hanging heavy in the room. He no longer wanted to talk, but rather prove a point.

He took a step backwards, never easing his hold as he pushed you towards the kitchen table. He didn’t stop until your ass hit the edge, a mischievous look in his eye replacing the earlier annoyance. He had you locked in place, no intent to back down as he stared down at you over the bridge of his nose. Then, a small smirk turned the corner of his lips, leading you to believe he was also thinking of a much more simple way to solve your problems.

“Maybe you just need a reminder of who you belong to, yeah?” He asked, his voice quieter than it was before. You felt your mouth run dry, your eyes never leaving his as a dull ache between your legs began to pester you.

That would make you feel better, but he had pissed you off enough that you wanted to refuse him the satisfaction.

“Maybe we should get Georgie up here. According to you, he’d be the one to set me straight.” There was a slight venom in your tone letting him know you wouldn’t be letting anything go so easily. A low chuckle shook his shoulders, his eyes gleaming with a sinister look you weren’t sure you’d ever seen from him before that night. He shook his head ever so slightly, playing into you as he reached one arm behind you.

Your heart raced as you awaited a response, wondering if maybe you pushed him too far and crossed a boundary you could not double back on. You didn’t have to wonder long, because without a second thought, he cleared all of the items littering the table with one swift move of his arm. Papers scattered everywhere, floating through the air and landing all over the floor. Broken products and half finished merchandise for the shop tumbled off the edge, falling less than gracefully onto the tile below. Without ever breaking eye contact, he raised an eyebrow, daring you to say it again.

“You think he can fuck you better than I can?” He asked, giving you the opportunity to change your mind.

“Right now? Yeah.” You spat, wondering if he’d ever drop the act and get on with his day. “Seems like all you want to do is get on my nerves.”

“Yeah?” He challenged, his face so close to yours you could feel his breath on your skin. The tip of his nose grazed your own, his normally warm and comforting irises engulfed by his lust-blown pupils. Or perhaps it was anger that gave him the new look—you weren’t quite sure. “You’d rather go home with him at night? Wake up next to him every morning? Is that really what you want, princess?” He taunted, knowing very well that your heart was his, even if he found himself caught up in a few moments of doubt.

Still neglecting to give him any gratification, you nodded your head despite the sickening feeling that washed over you at the thought. As if he called your bluff before you ever said it aloud, he laughed at the certainty in your action, which only seemed to anger you further.

“If that’s the case, seems like I’ve got my work cut out for me tonight.” He responded, brushing the comment off as if it were nothing. If there was one thing Fred couldn’t ever turn down, it was a challenge, and since coming upstairs with you, it was only further proven to him that’s all this was. “Maybe I’ve gotten too comfortable, sweetheart. After so long, you think you’d know that you’re mine, huh?” Before he continued his tyrant, he used his hands on your hips to lift you onto the table with ease. The ache between your legs had grown stronger, more intense and impossible to ignore. You could feel the wetness soaking through your panties, and the thought of his strong arms lifting you so carelessly only made you spiral further. “Maybe I expect too much of you.” He theorized, recognizing the gleam in your eyes because he’d seen it a thousand times before.

He let his hands trail under the hem of your jumper, settling on the button of your jeans as he undid it with ease. You never let your eyes trail from his face, realizing that no matter how upset you were, it could never take away from how much you loved him. He was beautiful, his fiery red hair and the freckles splattered across his cheeks and nose creating a perfect picture. The softness of his complexion and the gentleness hidden deep in his expression assured you that whatever the two of you were doing was nothing more than an act. He knew you were his just as well as you did, but he knew the only way to settle the (admittedly, misguided) fear was to hear you say it aloud.

You helped him pull the fabric from your legs, wrapping your arms around his neck as you lifted your hips from the table. He discarded the clothing on the floor, paying no mind to it as he returned his hands to your bare legs. His eyes searched your face, carefully looking for any sign of discomfort. Instead, he was met with a pleading expression that only seemed to fuel his too large ego even further.

“No matter,” he disregarded his earlier rant, his eyes growing heavy as his hand fell between your legs. His fingertips grazed the thin fabric separating him from your core, a shiver running down his spine as he noticed the arousal that had soaked straight through. “I don’t mind having to show you. Least I’ll get to have my fun too, yeah?” He applied slight pressure to your aching clit, watching to see your reaction. Your eyebrows knitted together, your lips parting slightly as your hips moved forward into his hand, your body betraying your mind and begging him for something more.

At that, a grin encased his face, happy to see that he hadn’t lost his touch, even if your lives were vastly different and ever-changing by the day. He knew exactly how to make you feel good, and he took pride in it.

“See, Princess? She’ll always tell me the truth.” He taunted, his voice quiet as his eyes trailed down to his hand. You swallowed hard, knowing he had you in a stalemate. “Tell me again, who do you think knows how to make you feel good? Who does it best?” He was on a power trip, unwilling to slow down until he heard you admit it. Still, you stood your ground, pressing your lips tightly together so not a single sound could pass through. His grin faded, slowly sinking into a scowl as your disobedience remained clear.

He removed his finger from you, tracing the hem of your panties as he hooked his finger through the side of the fabric resting on your hip. He awaited an answer, giving you the opportunity to change your mind. When you kept your stoicism, he gave one, hard tug on the lacy fabric until it snapped in two. He used his other hand to do it to the opposite side, giving himself easy access to you without hearing a complaint on your end.

“So you don’t care who’s between your legs?” He continued, unrelenting as you stared him down. “Doesn’t matter who, as long as there’s a cock in you? As long as someone’s taking care of your pretty pussy?” Your cheeks flushed, your chest burning as the filthy words washed over you. “Doesn’t matter, sweetheart. When I’m done with you, I’ll be the only person you can think of. Surely then you won’t be able to forget who you belong to.”

His hand connected with your bare cunt, his fingers trailing through your arousal and settling over your clit as he began to trace slow circles into the sensitive area. Your legs trembled at the contact, finally feeling some relief from the nagging sensation that had been taking over.

“Fuck. Fred.” You whispered, giving yourself away immediately. He let out a low hum, pleased with the sound and knowing he was the reason for it. He had you where he wanted you, and now he just had to keep up the pace. You could feel his hardening length against your leg, distracting you completely from the pent up anger and frustration.

“That’s it.” He encouraged, his middle finger sinking inside of you as he let his thumb take over on your clit. “That’s my girl.” He made sure to accentuate the claim, never once letting you forget it. “All you needed was a little help remembering.” Slowly, he pumped his finger into you, keeping time with his thumb as he began to work you towards a climax. “You want to say it for me? Tell me what I already know?” Instead of responding, you let out a whine, your hips bucking forward into his hand. Although it wasn’t what he was looking for, it was just enough for him to keep going.

He curled his fingers as he pumped them into you, begging for a reaction as your hand wrapped around his bicep for support. You felt the tense of his muscles as he worked at you, only pushing you closer to insanity. You were his, undoubtedly and wholeheartedly, and you would be crazy to ever want anyone else.

“Stubborn little thing tonight.” He remarked, his eyes focused on the point in which his hand met with you, never breaking his stare as he watched his fingers disappear into you. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Need more, Freddie.” You replied, your eyes squeezed shut as you felt the pleasure pulsing under your skin. It had been a long time since you felt him this way, and your impatience was quite clear.

“My little whore needs more?” He teased, applying a little more pressure with his thumb. A gasp fell from your lips, sending your upper half leaning forward until your forehead rested against his. “Asking a lot from someone you aren’t being very good for.” He chastised you for your behavior despite being the one that caused the problem in the first place.

“M’sorry, my love. S-so sorry.” You rushed out, his fingers brushing against the sweet spot inside you only he knew how to find.

“That’s not what I want to hear sweetheart, and you know it.” His tone was firm, unrelenting as he continued his torment. You let out a groan of frustration, wishing he’d quicken the pace and give you what you wanted, even though you refused to give in to him.

He leaned forward, closing the gap between your mouths as he grew tired of waiting for the words he wanted to hear. He tasted like the whiskey that had been fuelling his poor mood, sweet and bitter all at once as his tongue grazed your bottom lip. You hated how easy it was for him to turn you into a mess, hated how easy it was for him to make you forget you were angry at all. You pulled him closer to you, holding his arm tightly so he would not pull away. You were stubborn, but despite that, you were showing him everything he wanted to see through your actions alone.

You broke from the kiss as a particularly intense wave of euphoria pulled your stomach. Your forehead continued to rest on his, holding you upright as he continued to give you just enough to keep you satisfied.

“Say it, princess.” His voice was low, raspy and laced with desire as he watched you turn into a mess below him. “Tell me you’re all mine. Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.” Instead, you connected your mouths again, letting a desperate moan out at the same time. He drank in the sound, his cock throbbing as his hips jutted forward into nothing. He was almost more desperate than you were, which only allowed for you to take him less seriously.

“G-gonna have to try harder than that.” You found a peculiar pleasure in leaving him on edge, giving him a taste of his own medicine as he continued to torture both of you at once. “Show me why I should say it, Freddie. Seems like you’re all t-talk.” You stuttered, tripping over your words as you tried to keep your composure.

He withdrew his hand from you, making you cry out in frustration from the loss of pleasure. Your eyes met his, desperation written all over your face as you protested his actions. Silently, he sunk to his knees between your legs, pulling you to the edge of the table by your hips. He didn’t spare a single glance at your face before his tongue connected with your core, the warm wetness of his tongue even more pleasurable than the rough pad of his thumb.

You laid back on the table, your hands sinking downwards and tangling in the soft locks of hair. Although you were denying him of the statement he wanted to hear, you could not deny that your last argument was wholly untrue. Fred was determined to prove a point, and he was doing it well.

You weren’t far off from an orgasm, his tongue making quick work at pushing you to the edge. The sounds falling from your lips were telling of your current state, and as delirium began to set in, your defenses began to break down.

He suctioned his lips around your clit, adding his fingers to the mix and returning to his earlier pace to torture you further. Every nerve in your body was ablaze with desire, need seeping from every pore as you realized just how badly you needed the release. Sick of the game, you finally broke in fear he would leave you hanging yet again.

“Oh, god.” You gasped, your legs resting over his shoulders in attempt to stop the constant trembling of the lips. “I’m yours, Fred, fuck!” You exclaimed, a sheen layer of sweat forming over your forehead as the knot in your belly began to tighten. “Only you can make me feel this good. Nobody else.” You whined, your fingers tightening on the locks of hair as you began to tug at the strands. You could feel him smiling against you, happy to finally hear you admit the truth.

Pleased with your confessions, he curled his fingers against your g-spot one last time, generously giving you the very thing you’d been pleading for. In a mess, your entire body tensed as the pleasure took hold. The orgasm washed over you, leaving your heart racing against your chest and your head swirling with filthy thoughts for the boy between your legs. A hum of approval let you know he was more than happy with your performance, and he kept his pace until he felt you relax against the table below you.

Once he knew he’d gotten the most out of you, he rose to his feet, towering over you as you laid below him. In the dim moonlight, you could see your orgasm glistening on his chin, only furthering his cockiness as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip so he did not waste a drop of it.

“Always taste so sweet, princess.” He whispered, using one hand to free himself from his pants and his boxers. “And it’s all for me.” He continued, slipping his shirt from his head. He used it to wipe his face clean before tossing it on the floor to join the growing pile of clothes. With shaky hands, you lifted your upper half from the table and pulled your own jumper over your head. “Isn’t that right?” He stepped toward, settling between your legs as his hands ghosted over your bare thighs.

You let out a whimper, his grip landing on your already sore hips as his eyes raked over your entire frame. Your gaze flickered to his cock, hard and aching for relief as he continued to tease you. His fingers tickled your stomach as he trailed his touch upwards, his palm landing flat against your breast as he gave it a gentle squeeze. He let the pad of his thumb brush over your hardened nipple, sending another wave of pleasure through you.

“Answer me, sweetheart.” He wasn’t playing anymore; he wanted to hear the words, and he was done with your obstinacy. He pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger,

“Yes,” you huffed, already forgetting the pleasure from your first climax as a whole new wave of need began to take over. “I’m yours, Fred. All yours.” You reiterated your earlier statement, now willing to do whatever he wanted of you to prove the point.

“Tell me how bad you want it.” He shot you a twisted little smile, almost as if he was getting off just from the thought of you begging for him.

“I need it, baby. Need to feel you, please.” You whined, reaching for his arms and pulling him closer. “Want you so bad, Fred. Been waiting all night for it.” You felt the tip of his cock connect with your cunt, his expression faltering as soon as he felt the wetness.

“God, you make it so hard to be upset with you.” He hissed the words through his teeth, using his hand to guide himself through your folds as he sucked in a sharp breath. He settled himself just over your already sensitive clit, pushing his hips forward ever so slightly to apply pressure to the spot. “Sound so pretty when you’re begging to be fucked.”

Slowly, he let his tip run back through your arousal, settling the head just at your entrance. He pushed himself forward, but just barely. You whimpered as you braced yourself for the feeling, only to be let down when he stopped himself from going any further.

“Fred,” you warned, catching his eye so he could see your desperate face. You hoped that if he did, he would stop being such a tease. “Please fuck me.”

“What was that?” He smirked, turning his head slightly so his ear was closer to you. “Didn’t quite catch it.”

“Fred, stop—“ you cut yourself off, letting out a huff of annoyance. You knew chastising him for his actions would only make him less likely to give in, even if it was incredibly hard to hold it back. “I need you to fuck me.” You repeated, clearer and louder in hopes of swaying his decision. “Can’t wait any longer, baby. Please.”

At that, he pushed forward the rest of the way, sending your entire body raising with goosebumps. The stretch as he filled you was exactly what you craved, and as he reached the hilt, his tip brushed against your g-spot so delicately that it almost made you come undone right then and there. Your eyelids grew heavy with satisfaction, focusing on how full you felt with him inside of you, knowing that he for certain would always be the one for you.

“That good enough for you, Princess? This is what you wanted?” He asked, letting himself rest inside you for a moment. He felt your walls flutter around him, pulling him even further and making it harder for him to resist you.

“Mhm,” you hummed, giving him a tired nod of agreement. You could feel him throbbing inside of, desperate for a release just like you had been moments before, but he was still trying to prove his point.

“Nobody else gets to have you like this, sweetheart. You’re mine.” He whispered, now sober from the alcohol but intoxicated by an even stronger, deadlier force; you. “He couldn’t fuck you like this, and you know it.” As he spoke, he withdrew his hips and slammed them forward into you again. The action stole the breath from your lungs, twisting your stomach with pleasure as your nails scratched over his skin.

He began at a pace, slower than normal but the force behind his movements making your head spin. You moaned quietly, lost within the feeling of being so close to him. He never failed to take your breath away, never failed to amaze you with his every move. You were so in love with him it sometimes felt like there was no room within your heart for anyone or anything else.

“Tell me, Y/N.” He ordered, his stare never wavering as he fucked into you. As much as he wanted to succumb to the sensation of you wrapped around him, he found it hard to push the thoughts of your earlier arguments out of his head. “You think he’d fuck you like this? You think he could make you feel this good?”

“No, Freddie.” You gasped, feeling the strength of his thrusts increase, sending the legs of the table wobbling. His fingers tightened on your hips, likely leaving behind angry red marks that would fade into reminders of him for days to come.

“That’s it, Princess.” He panted, his chest heaving as he tried to resist the pull of pleasure. “Don’t you think, not even for a second, that anyone can give you half of what I can.” You both knew this to be fact; nobody in the entire world could ever compare to him. “And why do you think that is?”

“‘C-cause I’m yours,” you managed to stutter out the response, watching him as the statement washed over. He brought his hand to your thigh, your legs wrapped tightly around you as he pulled you back on him with every thrust. His head fell back on his shoulders, the dim light of the room casting a beautiful hue over his already breathtaking features.

“That’s right,” he grunted, slamming his hips forward again. There was a thin layer of sweat sheen on his chest, the toned muscles of his abdomen flexing every time he moved. The exposed columns of his neck made your mouth water, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed back his own groans of pleasure. “Was that why you were mouthing off? You just needed someone to take care of you? Just needed me to fuck you?”

“God, yes.” You moaned, feeling the pressure in your belly begin to reach a peak.

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? All over my cock?” He smiled, looking down at you so he could appreciate the view. “Come on now, making a fucking mess of it.”

“Fuck,” you whimpered, his words hitting you hard and causing the tightening knot in your belly to tense even further.

“That’s my pretty girl. Just like that.” He continued to encourage you, studying your expression as pleasure began to twist it.

It didn’t take much more for you to descend into another orgasm, your entire body quivering as you cried out for him, singing his name like a hymn and he was the god in which you prayed to. Your throat was raw, raspy from the constant string of moans passing your lips. You were tired, almost too fucked out to continue on, but he was having none of it. He didn’t slow his pace as you came down from the high, instead speeding up and ensuring that he pulled your entire body down on him as he fucked into you.

“Freddie, please.” You breathed, feeling the threat of overstimulation begin to creep in. He would have had sympathy had he known you couldn’t take it, but he was confident in your ability to keep up with him.

“What’s wrong, Princess? Wanted it so bad and now you can’t handle it?” He asked, his eyes glazed over with lust as he felt himself approaching his own orgasm. You frowned at his words, now on a quest to prove your own point as you tried to ignore the stinging beginning to set in.

“I can t-take it.” You huffed, a shiver running down your spine as he reached upwards and palmed your breast. He gave the supple flesh a gentle squeeze, his eyes closing in bliss as he let himself slip out of the persona he had created.

“Being so good for me—just a bit longer now.” He whispered, his voice far away as his eyes settled over your face once more. “Bloody hell, Y/N.” he groaned, his forehead creasing as his eyebrows furrowed together. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

He slipped his hand between your legs, his thumb landing atop your clit. He traced slow circles, knowing you were a bit further behind him and unwilling to climax without giving you at least one more. He could see how tired you were, but it did not deter him from his commitment to pleasing you.

“I love you, Fred.” You whispered, softened entirely by the sweet look in his eyes. All of his previous anger fled, leaving him just as the boy you’d fallen so hopelessly for.

“I love you, sweetheart.” He hummed, his hips stuttering and his stature faltering. “Give me one more, yeah? I know you can do it.” And he was right, your entire body was ablaze with another orgasm much more powerful than the last two.

“Together?” You gasped, reaching up and settling your palm on his cheek.

“Yeah? You want to cum with me?” He encouraged your train of thought. “Want me to fill that pretty cunt? Really show you who you belong to?”

“Fuck yes, please.” You cried, your fingertips tangling in the locks of hair hanging over his ears. Your walls clenched around him, drawing him in and effortlessly finishing what you had started.

You felt his hips stall, a low growl leaving his lips as he pulled you down on him one last time. He managed to whisper your name as he spilled his release into you, the feeling of him filling you completely sending you spiraling on your own accord. You let out a defeated sigh, the tail end of it turning into a whine as your body went rigid. Your nails scratched at the skin of his arm, your hand on him the only thing keeping you tied to earth instead of floating up and through the clouds.

The both of you rode the high together, euphoria infiltrating every nerve in both of your bodies as he leaned down towards you. Ever so gently, he laid his head on your chest, which was still heaving as you tried to catch up from the lack of oxygen. He placed a plethora of small kisses against the warm skin, his eyes fluttering closed as he appreciated the comfort that came with your company.

Silence hung heavy between you for a few moments, neither of you sure where to go from there. You were still strung out on bliss, barely remembering what got the two of you in the position until he spoke again.

“M’sorry, sweetheart.” His voice barely broke through the room, so timid and shy that you almost missed it completely. “I know you’d never do that. Just got in my head, I s’pose.”

“I… I get it.” You sighed, twisting a lock of his hair. “If I walked in on that, after us being so.. you know. I’d likely feel it too.” You confessed. “I was upset that we had to cancel dinner. I am upset, but not at you.” You tried your best to explain yourself despite exhaustion eating away at your mind. “I’m just upset because I miss you. You’re so busy now, and I’m happy for you, really, but I miss you too.”

“You think I was bloody happy about it?” Fred chuckled, the tip of his fingers tracing shapes into your skin. ��I’d much rather be here, with you.” At that, you relaxed completely, understanding that you had gotten too far into your own head. “It’s my favorite place to be. Always has been.”

“Mine too, Fred.” You hummed, smiling softly at the thought.

“I reckon I was a bit jealous, ‘specially at the thought of you and George spending so much time with each other. Would rather it be me, you know, sitting at the shop and laughing with you all night… taking you out for dinner… loving you.” Another gentle kiss was placed to your chest, just before he looked up to meet your eyes. The soft, warm, familiar sight made you feel at ease. He was back to being your Fred, the one you missed all along.

“Darling, you have nothing to be jealous about.” You promised, smiling as he placed a quick peck on your lips. “Though, if it means we get to have brilliant sex like that, by all means do what you have to do.” You explained. “Bloody brilliant, at that.” Without any further words, the two of you descended into a fit of laughter and the clouds that previously hung above your head seemingly cleared in an instant, easily proving to him there was really never a need to worry at all.

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 39: Life

Summary: Something begins to throb in your chest as you lay there. Something thrums deep within you, something you haven’t felt in weeks.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 8,194 words

Warnings: Angst, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, angst, PTSD, nightmares, POV changes, depression and anxiety, illness, language, slightly graphic imagery, very slight violence, rumination, lots of feels, and yes finally some comfort

A/N: Yes, it has finally arrived. The time has come. We are now in the comfort. This very much is a good place to end things for the next month. If you haven't seen my post then I'll say it here, I will be putting the fic on a brief hiatus for the month of October. I have Kyletober planned and trying to do CRCB at the same time will be too much. So this will be the last chapter for a couple weeks while I focus on other things and just give my brain a little break from CRCB. It's been eight months of just pumping out long chapters every week, or almost every week, so I need a little break to focus on other things. I'll still be writing and posting things here (and Ao3 of course) but there won't be another CRCB chapter posted until November.

But anyway, I hope you enjoy this one and the comfort starting and I'm super excited for what's coming next month (can't believe it's almost October)

11/30/24: **This chapter has been edited and rewritten from its original version**

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“I need you to be brave.” Christine says, staring up at him. 

His heart thumps in his chest. How bad is it that not only did she summon him down here, but she’s asking him to be brave. He knows you’re sick, that you’ve fallen ill after your moment of anger earlier. She had informed them over dinner as she made some broth that you came down with a fever. 

They had all been worried, sharing glances at the news. John looked like a dog that had been scolded. It was his fault, after all. 

If anything happens to you, it is his fault. 

Johnny swallows the lump in his throat, nodding slowly as he stares down at Christine. “I can be brave.” 

Christine stares up at him for a long moment before nodding. She pushes the door open, leading him inside your room. The scent in the air is thick, tainted by the bitter scent of anxiety still lingering in the air, and the sour scent of illness. He misses the fresh scent of strawberries, he has missed it over the last few weeks. Your scent had taken on a bitter edge ever since the cameras were revealed to them. It’s only gotten stronger recently after the events that transpired. 

All of their scents have been off lately. 

It’s dark in the room aside from the bedside lamp. It casts a soft glow around the room, elongating the shadows in the corners. They loom threateningly, and his fingers twitch to turn on the overhead light. 

You don’t like the overhead light. It’s too bright. 

You always prefer softer light. Is it an omega thing, or is it just a you thing? He’s not quite sure. 

How little they really understand you. 

The lamp illuminates a pile of blankets on the bed, stacked one on top of each other to create a lump of soft fabric. You’re underneath that pile, he knows it. You’ve always liked blankets, always carried one with you in the barracks, eternally cold in the harsh world they existed in on base. This many blankets though? It was excessive even for you. 

He approaches the bed slowly, scared at what he might find. Images of you laying in a puddle of blood, cold and stiff fills his mind. Images of a skeletal figure reduced to nothing but skin stretched over bones has his heart racing. What will he find on the other side of that pile obscuring you from his vision? 

He swallows down his fear, reminding himself that he’s a soldier. He’s seen dead bodies before, he’s killed before. So why is he so scared now? 

This isn’t war. It’s you. 

He steps up to the side of the bed, looking down on you. You’re shivering, trembling under the blankets. Sweat beads on your forehead, skin dewy and clammy in your fever. You look more alive than the skeletal figure he had pictured in his mind, but you don’t look well. 

You look near death. 

“I’m worried about her.” Christine says, closing the door behind her. “She needs someone from her pack close. You’re making the most effort right now, and if anyone might get through to her, it’s you. She needs...someone.” Christine sighs. “Someone who can offer what I can’t.”  

“She needs a member of her pack.” Johnny says, easily putting together what Christine was saying. 

He knows what she’s asking. He’s scared. He’s not sure how you’ll react. The last people you want to see right now is your pack, including him. How will you react to having him so close? 

“Exactly.” Christine says, stepping up right next to him.

Her fingers wrap around his wrist, and he lets her guide his hand to your cheek. It’s hot and clammy against his palm, a fire blazing under your skin. You let out a shuddering breath, the air fanning weakly against his wrist. Your head turns just slightly, pressing into his hand. It’s a good sign, despite the delirium you have to be stuck in. What are you imagining is happening right now? What is your brain telling you? 

“Touch her, talk to her.” Christine says, releasing his wrist. He keeps his hand there, pressed against your cheek. “We need to try and get her back before this gets worse.” 

Before they lose you. 

She won’t say it out loud. 

She doesn’t need to. 

Johnny nods, turning his head to look at Christine over his shoulder. She looks exhausted, and not just because of the late hour. She’s done so much over the past few weeks watching you and caring for you. Maybe it is time one of them tries to step up and help her. You can’t avoid them forever, no matter how much you might feel like trying. 

He has to try. For you. 

“I know what tae do.” He says, his eyes flickering to the books stacked on your dresser, the ones Simon and John picked up. 

Christine squeezes his arm. “I’m just across the living room if you need me.” 

“I’ll try not to.” He says. 

She stares up at him for a long moment before nodding. She understands. He doesn’t have to say much else. She leaves the door cracked and he doesn’t mind, moving away from you to look through the books on the dresser. A handful of them are new, or at least ones he’s never seen you read before. A couple are ones he knows are in your collection at the barracks. He picks one of those, some fantasy novel he’s seen you read more than once. 

He looks between the bed and the chairs. He could pull one over and sit by your side. 

No, Christine said it was better to touch you. 

Instead he climbs onto the bed, sitting close enough he can feel the heat from your body. He cracks open the book, flipping through to the first page. He clears his throat, staring down at you for a moment before he begins to read. 

Rain batters the roof, coming down hard outside. The wind is blowing, whooshing past the house, rattling the shutters. The storm blew in from the sea, dumping rain by dinner and then the wind picked up by the time they were all getting ready to settle in for the night. 

It feels fitting, a storm blowing in at a time when a storm is brewing within their pack.

The storm he blew into their pack. 

He lays there in bed, listening to it rage outside. It’s quiet in the house, Simon and Johnny already settled in, and so are you downstairs. Kyle is beside him, but not asleep. He’s laying awake again as they have done since their arrival. He can feel the heat of Kyle’s body against his arm as he lays on his back, Kyle on his side facing away from him. 

“You just had to do it, didn’t you?” Kyle asks quietly, breaking the silence. “Can’t even go a week without trying to apologize knowing full well she won’t forgive you.” 

John stays silent, having expected some kind of reprimanding for his actions. He really was selfish for what he did. Kyle is right. You won’t forgive him, no matter how many times or ways he tries to say sorry. 

“You’re just making it worse.” Kyle huffs out. “You’re the last person that should try apologizing right now.”

“You’re right.” He finally says. “It was selfish of me to do that. I just wanted her to know-” 

“She knows.” Kyle snaps, cutting him off. “She’s not stupid and oblivious. She knows we’re all feeling guilty, she knows how sorry we all are. She won’t let us apologize until she’s ready. Shows just how little you actually understand her, trying to do that.” Kyle pushes himself up to sit. “She doesn’t want words. She’s had words spewed at her, her whole life telling her what to do, how to feel, how to act. She wants actions. She wants us to prove to her that we do care, that we are sorry, that we’re making an effort to make things up to her. She wants us to prove that we’re putting her first by putting her first.” 

John knows he’s right. Words won’t solve a situation like this. None of them know where to start, though. How do you try and make things up to someone when you’re not even sure that person wants you to try? 

“She’s sick now, because of what you did.” Kyle continues. “If anything happens to her...” He trails off, shaking his head. 

“I’ll let you take the first shot.” John says. “I know. I’ve been a miserable excuse of an alpha. It’s easy when you have the confines of the military to hold everything in place. When those expectations dictate your life and how to run a pack. It’s easy, when you can exist as a pack with those set routines and structures. The facade that makes everything seem like it's working.” He shakes his head. “We never would have worked outside of those confines.” 

Kyle’s head turns slightly towards him, but his gaze is still on the far wall. “No, we wouldn’t have. None of us would have chosen this in the first place.” 

“Probably not.” John agrees. “Then we got an omega added, an outsider that showed us just how weak we really were.” 

“We were crumbling long before that.” Kyle says. “We weren’t ready for an omega, we shouldn’t have ever had an omega.” 

“I should never have been head alpha.” John says. “Being an alpha is different from being a captain. It shouldn’t have been me.” 

Kyle snorts. “He would have never agreed.” 

“That delay might have saved us.” 

“Or it would have made things worse.” Kyle says. “Shepherd wanted us to bond with her right away so his control over us would strengthen if he had to use that power. If those bonds weren’t put into place when they were, they might have tried to force it.” 

“That would have only destabilized things further.” John says. Kyle isn’t wrong. Who knows what lengths they would have gone to, to ensure what they wanted would happen. “They were watching us from the start. They knew exactly how to play all of us.” 

“Simon was right all along in his suspicions.” Kyle says, laying back down on the bed. Their shoulders are touching. It feels nice, having him close again. They’ve been close for the last few days, forced together by their sleeping arrangements, but it feels different now. 

“He’ll be a better alpha than I ever could be.” John says quietly, almost speaking to himself. 

“I think she will come to forgive you eventually.” Kyle says, turning his head to look at John. “You just have to give her time. A lot of time. You have to figure out how to prove yourself worthy of that forgiveness.” 

“I want to take her to the beach.” John says. “Once she’s recovered.” 

“If she recovers.” Kyle had pieced together the worry in Christine’s voice combined with her words. They all had. 

“She will.” John says, sliding his hand across the sheets. “She’s a tough little thing. She’s not going to give up just like that.” 

“I hope you’re right.” Kyle says. He doesn’t pull away as John’s fingers brush his hand. 

“I may not have the best track record with being right currently, but I’m confident in her and her strength.” John turns his head to look at Kyle in the darkness. The storm is calming outside, the wind dying down and the rain lightening. “She’s stronger than all of us combined.” 

The corners of Kyle’s lips twitch. “You are right about that.” 

It smells good. 

There’s a rich scent in the air as you begin to wake. It smells like Christmas, like spices and citrus. Warm gingerbread and cider. Freshly squeezed orange juice on Christmas morning just like every year. It had been your favorite, though you never understood the lengths your mother went to, the early morning and the hours spent in the kitchen on Christmas slaving away to make everything perfect. Everyone got something they wanted, something they loved. You never appreciated that effort until now. 

Oranges. Spices. Warmth. 

You know that scent. 

It’s hot in the room, sweat soaking your skin as you lay on your right side. Heat surrounds you like a cocoon, just like the scent. Warm and soft and too much. You try to wiggle out from under the blankets but you can’t move, so instead you shuffle them off. Some of them hit the floor with soft plops, the others just barely hanging on the side of the bed, trapped under your body. You’re still stuck, still hot as you lay there, a comforting weight around you. The scent floods your nose, fills your body with a pleasant feeling as you lay there, breathing through your nose. Oranges, spices, warmth. 

Someone is baking a pie.

It smells good. You want to bury yourself in it, press yourself into that scent until it’s the only thing you can smell. It brings you a comfort you didn’t realize you were missing. Something fills your chest, a weight beginning to press down inside of you.

Your hair sticks to your face as you lay there, tempted to get up and see who is baking and why. There’s weight pressing down on you from the outside as well. You can’t move. You’re stuck. 

The weight around you moves. 

No, it’s not pie. 

It’s Johnny. 

That’s why you know the scent. That’s why it feels so familiar, so comforting. It’s Johnny. Johnny is pressed up against your back, his arm tossed over your waist. That’s why it’s so hot, his body putting off warmth like a heater. 

You should be angry at the breach of your clearly placed barriers. You should be upset that he would come in here and just climb in bed like this. You should be pissed that one of them would try something like this after your outburst yesterday. 

You shouldn’t be crying. 

Not out of relief. 

Oh how you missed this. 

Something begins to throb in your chest as you lay there, crying quietly in Johnny’s arms. Something begins to thrum deep within you, something you haven’t felt in weeks. Life? Hope? Happiness? 

You should be upset. 

You can’t be. 

Johnny grunts quietly behind you, his arm leaving your waist as he stretches. He’s awake now, or maybe he hadn’t been at all and had been waiting for some sign of life, some movement from you, something to try and give him a hint at what you must be feeling. He doesn’t say anything, laying still as you sniffle in the silence. No one else is up yet, despite the blue light of dawn coming in through the gap in the curtain. 

“Johnny?” You whisper, even the quiet sound hurting your sore throat. You’re thirsty, desperately so, but that’s a problem for later. 

“It’s me, kitten.” He says hesitantly, the pet name making a sob tear from your throat. 

“Johnny,” You cry, the tears falling in a cascade. You can’t stop them. You’ve lost complete control as you lay there sobbing. “Hold me.” 

He doesn’t say anything else, his arms wrapping around you and tugging you close against his chest. He locks you in his embrace, holding you tightly against his chest as you cry. It feels good. Life and energy flows through you again for the first time in weeks. That empty space in your chest begins to fill slowly, warmth blossoming in your body despite the sweat soaking you both. Johnny offers no complaints as he presses his face into your hair. 

How you missed this. 

How you need this. 

You seem more relaxed at dinner. Despite your angry outburst the day before, and your sudden illness, you look significantly less miserable than you did your first attempt at joining them for dinner. The yelling did a number on your throat, but even now it’s nothing compared to that first day. You’re having soup again, and this time there’s a side of mash and peas next to the bowl. 

You even walked to the table without the crutch. 

Simon sits beside you again, all of them taking their respective seats at the table. They’ve assigned themselves these seats, even when you don’t join them for a meal. You’re at the head of the table as you were the first time, Simon and Chrstine on either side of you. Kyle and Johnny are seated next to them, and John is across the table from you. You’ve been avoiding looking at him. You haven’t even so much as glanced up at him. 

Simon is watching you carefully out of the corner of his eye, trying not to make it obvious. If you’ve noticed, you haven’t shown any disapproval. He’s ready in case he has to act fast again, but you are far more steady than you were that first time. There’s no tremble to your hand as you bring the spoon up to your mouth. 

The others look happier than before too. Johnny has stopped crying. Not even a sniffle from him ever since this morning when he emerged from your room. None of them had said anything about it, though they have an inkling of what had happened, judging by Christine’s lack of reaction to it. Kyle looks happier too, sitting straighter like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. It probably has, with the lightening of the mood. Whatever happened with Johnny this morning, it’s made a huge change already.  

John has never been much of a religious man, but god bless Johnny for whatever magic he worked this morning. 

You don’t even look feverish as you sit there, spooning soup into your mouth. A lingering low-grade fever, Christine had informed them earlier that afternoon, but significantly less concerning than things had been yesterday.  

He’s glad to hear it. He’s always glad to hear Christine’s updates on how you’re doing, how well you’re healing, at least physically. The body heals easily. Mentally...there’s still a long way to go. Healing physically will help mentally, but with all the trauma, years and years of trauma, it’s going to take a long time to heal from that. 

The clink of your spoon in your bowl draws him from his thoughts and he glances up at you. 

“Getting full?” Christine asks as you take a sip of your water, wincing slightly as you swallow it. 

“Can I have some tea?” You ask. 

“Sure,” Christine says, going to push her chair back, but John is already standing.

“I’ll make some.” He says, not offering any room for argument as he turns his back on the table to head for the kettle. 

You’ve been drinking more tea lately, likely to soothe your throat. He never thought he’d see the day, given your determination to stand with Johnny on the side of coffee. It’s a bit late for coffee, but he does know it wouldn’t keep you awake in the slightest. You love your sleep, as most omegas do, and nothing will get in the way of it. Not even some late evening caffeine. 

He sets mugs out on a tray, deciding to make tea for everyone. At least that way it’ll make it seem less targeted at you. He’s not doing it to try and impress you or win your affections back. He just wants to help take the load off of Christine’s shoulders. She’s done so much for you, for all of them, already. 

He steeps the tea before bringing the mugs to the table along with some milk and sugar. He knows at least Simon and Kyle will drink some, and he will as well. He brings the kettle over, filling the mugs with tea. All of them sit there watching him, waiting tensely for what will happen next. Will you take the mug of tea he offers? Or will you refuse. Even if you threw it in his face, it wouldn’t make him mad. It would be horribly painful, yes, but he would deserve it. 

Perhaps him doing this was a mistake. 

He stares at the sugar and milk as he grabs one of the mugs. Do you like sugar or milk in your tea? He’s not sure. He doesn’t even know how you take your tea. He knows you like creamer in your coffee. But how do you take your tea? 

What a sad excuse of a human being he is. 

You don’t look at him as he sets the mug next to your water glass. You’re still eating your soup, your hand trembling just slightly now. Your scent is tainted still, a whiff of it filling his nose. Displeasure, a hint of burning anger. 

This was a mistake. 

He sets the milk and sugar next to you first, letting you finish making your tea. He won’t push that boundary and risk making it wrong. It would only add fuel to the fire, make it more obvious that he knows and cares so little for you. He doesn’t even know how you take your tea. 

He takes his seat again as the others help themselves to the tea, even Johnny taking a mug. Whether he’s doing it because he wants to make the moment feel less awkward, or because he genuinely wants some, John will never know. 

He made a mistake in doing that. 

Still, despite the awkwardness, it felt good to do that. 

Maybe that’s how they get closer to you. 

The little things, things that take some of the pressure off Christine. She has to be getting tired, going nonstop all day. Anything they can do to help, they should. Things seemed to go well with Johnny, so maybe the others can have some success in their attempts to gain your favor once more. 

John will have to stay away for now. Distance is what you need from him. 

That’s alright. He has other things he can do. 

He tries to hide the small grin on his face as you pick up the mug, taking a sip of the tea. 

They’re fighting. 

You stand at the back door watching them throw punches. They’re solid punches, nothing held back, no pulling them. They’re all breathing heavily, two of them watching the other two fight. 

Simon’s fist meets Kyle’s shoulder, Kyle’s fist going for Simon’s head but he’s too fast, ducking before he drives his shoulder into Kyle’s stomach. Kyle hits the grass, disappearing from your view. 

John steps forward, pulling Simon back and speaking to him, but you can’t hear from this distance. 

“Still out there?” Dr. Keller asks, stepping up beside you. 

“Yep.” You say, watching as Johnny takes Kyle’s place against Simon. 

“John did say it would be good for them.” Dr. Keller says, wincing as Johnny’s fist hits Simon’s ribs. 

“They’re gonna start a real fight.” You say, watching as Simon starts to get more aggressive. You can tell because you’ve been in that position before. You’ve seen when that switch starts to flip, when the alpha starts to take over. He was never this aggressive with you, but perhaps even his alpha could be rational given your obvious size and strength difference. 

And the fact you’re an omega. 

“Well, that’s their problem.” Dr. Keller says. “As long as they keep it out there.” 

“They might make you patch them up afterwards.” You say. 

She lets out a snort. “There’s ice packs in the freezer and a first aid kit in the bathroom.” 

You try to hide your smile as you watch John get in between Johnny and Simon, speaking to Simon again. Maybe it will be good for them to get some of that pent up energy out. They’re all used to being so active and always having something to do. Being stuck inside has to be driving them stir-crazy. Simon has been going on runs in the morning, and you know John has been going on walks every so often. 

You’re starting to feel a bit stir-crazy yourself. It’s taking you back to the days shut up in the barracks, unable to go anywhere or do anything, having to entertain yourself for hours while they were gone. At least there you had space and room to move around, even when you were being trailed, one of them constantly following you around. They might not be hovering quite as obviously here, but it still feels suffocating, like you can’t truly have a moment to yourself. 

“I want to go for a walk.” You say, shifting on your feet. The likelihood of you going very far is slim, at least right now. 

How far you’ve fallen from your running days. 

“I suppose you could go for a little walk.” Dr. Keller gives you a sideways glance. “Might be good to help get your strength back. I doubt they’d let us go without one of them, though.” 

“Probably not.” You agree, knowing they won’t even let you sit out on the porch without one of them watching. If you left the house without even telling one of them, all hell would break loose and you’d be condemned to your room once more. 

The thought makes you wince. 

You almost wish you could go out there and throw some punches at one of them. That might make you feel a bit better. Hell, line them all up and you’ll take turns beating the crap out of all of them. Maybe that might heal some of the anger and pain still stuck inside of you. 

That’s an idea for a different day, though. 

It’s oddly warm out today, or at least that’s what Ashley said. Soon the weather will turn, though, and the cold rain will come. Lots of rain. 

Your eyes flick between Ashley and Dr. Keller. The three of you are seated in a circle around a table outside, steaming mugs of tea in front of you. Neither of them are staring at you, instead focused on each other as Ashley speaks. 

Dr. Keller has a crush. 

It’s not hard to tell. Her eyes are focused on Ashley, a smile tugging at her lips. Her gaze only flicks to you when you shift and move in your seat before she’s staring at Ashley again. You can’t blame her. You can hardly bring yourself to look away from Ashely too. 

It makes you almost miss Kyle. 

They have the same soft brown eyes and the same bright smile. They’re both perfect, like they were chiseled out of marble and brought to life. They even laugh the same, a genuine chuckle coming right from the chest. 

It makes you want to laugh, even if you have no clue what was being said. 

How has Kyle been handling this? You’ve hardly paid him any mind. His connection to John puts him too close to the source of your anger and rage and pain. Johnny cries, Simon is a brick wall, John reeks of guilt and misery. Kyle...you don’t know. He’s been a blank spot, a hazy figure in the distance. 

It almost makes you feel bad. You’ve completely cut him off, isolated him. Has he cried? Has he been sulking? How miserable does he feel about everything? Does he feel guilty or miserable at all? He has to. They all do. 

Good. You think. They deserve it. 

“You do get stuck in your head, huh?” 

Your gaze snaps up, looking between Dr. Keller and Ashley. They’re both staring at you quietly, a small smile on Ashley’s face. You did get lost in your thoughts again, stuck in your ruminations as you usually do. Lately it hasn’t been a problem, as you’re alone or with Dr. Keller often. You’re supposed to be thinking and processing. It just happens at the worst times. 

Simon would hate it still. 

“Something specific on your mind?” Dr. Keller asks. 

You probably shouldn’t say anything. How would you explain how your mind went from Dr. Keller crushing on Ashley to hoping the guys feel guilty? You’re not even sure you should reveal that you know about Dr. Keller’s crush, especially if she hasn’t said anything yet. You don’t think she has. They’re not...close in the way a couple would be, a distance still between them. Does Ashley feel the same way? It’s hard to tell since you don’t know her quite as well yet. 

Maybe that can be your goal, besides healing. Something to focus on, something to distract from the constant emotions and pain. Get Ashley and Dr. Keller together. 

They’d be perfect for each other. 

“Not really.” You finally say, looking down at the book in your lap. You’re about halfway through it. It’s fine. Nothing to write home about. 

“What do you think of the book?” Ashley asks, sensing your end to that discussion. She doesn’t push. You like that about her. 

“It’s alright.” You shrug. “Kinda slow.” 

“They are spending a lot of time on character development.” Dr. Keller says. 

“We should keep a tally of how many times the phrase “his dark eyes” gets mentioned.” Ashley says, making you laugh. 

“It’s good to hear you laugh.” Dr. Keller says, smiling at you. 

“It...feels good to laugh again.” You say. “It’s nice to have something to laugh about.” 

“Well then I’m going to make that my mission.” Ashley says, taking a sip of her tea. “Get you to laugh as much as possible.” 

You don’t think you’ll mind that one bit.

“There’s something we need to talk about.” 

You don’t turn to look as Dr. Keller sinks into the seat next to you. It’s raining again, the rain pattering against the window as you sit in front of it. They won’t let you go out in the rain. 

“Something that is rather important.” She continues. “Something you should know.” She clears her throat, not waiting for a response. She knows she won’t get one. “When you told John that he left you there to be tortured...is that what Graves told you? Did he tell you they left you behind?” 

Her words have something sinking in your stomach. Your insides are squirming, your intestines tying themselves in knots. You haven’t even thought about that. You’ve been so caught up in the emotions, swept up in the anger and devastation. The memories of what happened are still blurry, still stuck in the recesses while your body heals. 

That pit in your stomach continues to drop as she stares at you, waiting for an answer. 

You don’t want to answer. 

“Hey,” She says softly, leaning to try and stay in your line of sight as your eyes begin to drop to the side. “We need to talk about this.” There’s a serious look on her face as your eyes slowly lift to stare at her again. “Do you believe they chose to leave you behind with Graves?” 

Tears prick behind your eyes as you stare at her. Of course you do. Why wouldn’t they? They’ve left you behind so many times, what’s another? They don’t care that you were being tortured. They never cared that them leaving you before was like torture. Why would they waste the chance to go after Shepherd before he found a place to hide? 

The job comes first.

“Yes.” You breathe, a tear sliding down your cheek. You want to say it, let all the thoughts rushing through your mind pour right out of your mouth but the tears choke you, keep you silent. 

The serious mask on Dr. Keller’s face melts away to a sympathetic look. It doesn’t surprise you. It’s the look she often wears when she looks at you. 

“Oh, honey.” She says, reaching out, but you withdraw yourself further away. “They didn’t leave you behind. They were doing everything they could to try and find where you were. John about blazed a path across the US to find you.” 

You don’t want to believe it. It sounds too good to be true. Her words stir the bitter pot in your stomach, the anger at them and at yourself. You let yourself believe that they would care about you, but they led you to believe they cared. They left you so easily and you never said anything to them to try and keep them with you. They left you behind when they knew it was dangerous, and you believed Phil when he told you they had abandoned you. 

Why would Phil tell you the truth? He wanted to torture you, wanted to take out his anger on you. It wasn’t your decision, nothing was your decision, but in the end the mark on your shoulder sealed your fate. You’d never belong to him. The more he could tear you and your pack down the better. The more hopeless you felt, the more you hated the members of your pack, the more satisfaction he would get. 

He wanted to drive the wedge between your pack, and you fell for it. 

Tears glide down your cheeks as you turn to face the window. They mirror the droplets of rain sliding down the glass. Your fingers curl against the fabric of the chair, your breaths starting to come in gasps as reality begins to settle in. 

“You’re okay.” Dr. Keller says, kneeling next to the chair. “I was there with them, I saw just how desperate they were. They wouldn’t leave you like that. Trust me.” 

Can you trust her? Can you trust any of them? Part of you would like to. The part of you that wants things to go back to the way they were, when things felt fine, when you still believed your pack loved you. Back when you could be delusional and believe something good could come of this entire situation. 

Now you’re stuck with a pack that never wanted you. Now you’re stuck with the trauma of the last few weeks, trauma you should have never faced in the first place. Not if your pack truly cared about you. It was always a risk, but you always believed they would take care of you, they would keep you safe. 

Now look at you. 

A sob tears from your lips as you sit there, the thoughts quickly growing to be too much. Dr. Keller reaches for you but you pull away, pushing yourself up to stand. You move towards the bed, grabbing one of the plush pillows. You bring it to your face, letting out a long, muffled scream.

The scream dies in your throat as you jolt awake in bed. The book that had been in your hands when you fell asleep drops to the floor with a quiet thud as you jerk up into a seated position. You’re breathing heavily, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you try and calm your racing heart. It’s beating hard like it might beat right out of your chest. You’re shaking, your hands clutching at the baggy shirt you’re wearing like you’re trying to cling to some hope that it was all a dream, that you’re awake now and this is real life. 

Sweat beads on your forehead as you sit there, shaking in the darkness. You need someone. The shadows are closing in around you, your nightlight unable to keep them completely away. You need someone to fight them back. You need someone to reassure you that it was all just a dream, someone that can wipe the tears streaming down your cheeks and whisper softly to you that it’s all okay. That it’s all over. 

You need Kyle. 

Where is Kyle? How do you get to him without waking the others? You could go upstairs but what if they think you’re an intruder? You don’t even know which room Kyle is in. You wish you had a phone. You wish you could call him. You wish you could just telepathically reach out and tell him you need him and only him. 

You’ll wake them all anyway trying to find him. 

You suck a breath in, your hands still shaking as they cling to your shirt. You have to do it. It’s the only way to get them all down here, to get Kyle down here. 

You take a couple deep breaths before you scream. 

Within seconds the house is alive, footsteps racing across the living room towards your room as others thud from above. 

The overhead light stings your eyes, forcing them closed. It’s too bright, intrusive even with your eyes pinched closed. You can still see it behind your eyelids, harsh and too artificial. Just a price you have to pay to get what you need. 

Dr. Keller’s hands are soft as they peel your hands off your shirt, your fingers trembling with nothing to hold on to. They open and close, seeking out something to grip, something to give you an anchor to reality. You’re still panicking, your breaths shaky as you shit there, trembling in fear. 

“You’re alright,” She tries to soothe you, brushing your sweaty hair back. “It was just a dream.” 

You wish it was. 

“Kyle.” The name comes out as barely a whisper, stuttering out of your trembling lips. 

“What was that, sweetie?” Dr. Keller asks, leaning in closer. 

“Kyle.” You whisper louder now, the name shaky in the tense silence of the room. 

“Kyle,” Dr. Keller repeats, standing up straight. 

Quiet, hesitant footsteps approach the bed. Your eyes are still pinched closed against the harsh overhead light. You can’t bring yourself to be brave enough to open them, to face that harsh light. It might reveal the truth, that it was all just a dream, that this is still just a dream. 

It might not be Kyle approaching the bed at all.

You can’t know. You don’t want to know. You’re afraid to open your eyes. 

There’s a click as the lamp is turned on. You still can’t bring yourself to open your eyes. It’s supposed to be comforting, the soft light, but it could be used against you, giving you a false sense of hope and security. 

You flinch as the overhead light is turned on, still too afraid to open your eyes. Your hands have closed around the blanket pooled at your waist, gripping it so tightly your fingers are aching. It’s real. You’re touching it, you can feel the texture of it in your hands. It’s real. 

It’s real. 

Your breaths are shaky as you breathe in and out, trying to catch a scent. Any scent. Something to tell you that you’re really awake, that it really is Kyle standing next to the bed. 

“I’m here.” A soft voice says, something hovering in the air next to you. 

Kyle. 

You know that voice. You’d know it anywhere. 

You finally crack your eyes open, tears brimming as you turn your head to look up. Kyle is standing there awkwardly next to the bed, his hand raised as if he was reaching out to comfort you, but thought better of it. You’re glad he did. You might have spiraled into another panic if he’d touched you before you knew it was him. 

You stare at his hand for a moment before you peel one of your hands away from the blanket. Your hand is shaky as you lift it, reaching out towards his own trembling fingers. 

His fingers are warm and rough, just as you remember as they close around yours. You’re still shaking, a cold sweat forming on your skin as fear trickles down your spine. 

What if this is a dream? What if this isn’t real?

“I’m here.” He says, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles. 

You want to believe him. You really do. 

You pull his hand closer, pressing your cheek against it. His skin is warm against your cheek, and like Johnny, he makes no complaints about your sweat smearing on his skin. You’ve been that close to them before, sweat mixing together, slicking skin. How far things have fallen since then. 

Your tears drip onto his skin as you hold him there, just breathing him in for a moment. He smells like the sea, but with that soft, light scent underneath. You missed that scent, more than you realize you did. 

You let out a quiet sound as you rub your cheek against his hand, almost like you’re trying to embed his scent under your skin. 

He doesn’t say anything as you lean against his hand, tears still streaming down your face. The lamp is pushing some of the darkness away, but it’s not enough. It’s never enough. You can still feel the eyes from the dark corners of the room, the shadowy figures just out of view threatening to reach out and tear you away. 

A shudder runs down your spine, your fingers squeezing around Kyle’s in what has to be a painful grip. 

“I’m here.” He says again, pulling you from the dark thoughts plaguing your mind. He’d know if someone was here. He’d know if anything threatening was nearby. 

It’s his job. 

The job. 

The thing that’s kept you so separated from them, kept you at a distance. The thing that put your life in danger, that exposed them all as liars. The thing that’s left you an empty shell.

Maybe having him down here was a mistake. 

But the shadows...

You tug on his hand, pulling him closer to the bed. He sinks down on the edge carefully, still a bit hesitant. You don’t blame him. It’s not like you’ve been the most welcoming of them. For good reason. 

You need him right now. That need for safety and security far outweighs the conflicting emotions battling in your brain right now. 

“Stay.” You say, the word tumbling out from your trembling lips. 

“You’re sure?” He asks, his thumb still stroking your knuckles. You’re not sure if he even knows he’s doing it. 

You nod, tugging him closer as you scoot over in bed. He lets you guide him, laying on top of the covers.

You try not to think about it too much. 

It’s nice having him close. The shadows don’t seem quite as dark, the threats in them silent now that he’s here. He’ll keep you safe. He’ll protect you from the silent threats. That’s why you want him. That’s his role to play in all of this. They all have roles, they all have their places in the pack. They all have a part to play, not just for you but for each other. 

They’ve been struggling. 

They’re struggling because you’re struggling. 

The silence is loud as you lay there listening to the hum of electricity. You’re not quite sure what to say, how to break the silence. What is there to say that you haven’t already conveyed by your silence? What is there to say beyond what you’ve conveyed in your anger? They all heard your outburst, they all know the source of your anger and what they did to cause it. 

What’s left to say when you have nothing tying you together anymore except a claim and a half-broken bond? What is there to say when saying the wrong thing might fray that bond even more than it already has been? 

“I’m sorry.” Kyle says, finally breaking the tense silence. 

Of course he’d start with that. 

You let out a huff, turning on your side to face away from him. “I know you all are. You don’t have to keep saying it.” 

He lets out a sigh. He knows it. He’s not apologizing to you, for you. “Nothing can change what we did and we know that. We just...want you to know that we’ll do whatever it takes to help you and support you. We don’t want to push that boundary too far, but we’re all here if you need us.” 

You let out a hum. You already know that too. That’s why Johnny came so willingly, that’s why he stayed. That’s why they all tiptoe around you and stare at you like you’re a wild animal that may strike at any moment. 

Part of you wishes they wouldn’t. 

Part of you wants to go back to the way things were. Part of you wants to pretend that everything is normal again, that you love them and they love you just as much. You want to go back to that comfortable, seamless flow of one around the other, the way they all moved in sync, aware of each other without even needing to look. You want to insert yourself into that flow again and let them guide you along with them. You want to trust them blindly again and know they’d catch you if you fall. 

They proved they won’t though. They proved you can’t trust them to catch you. You’re on your own again, forced to catch yourself, forced to save yourself. You have to make that rope to catch yourself with. 

Yet, a deeper part of you yearns for that connection. Your omega screams for it, for your alpha, for your pack. You want them back with you, you want the bonds to heal and to be stronger than they were before. You want them to do as they said and prove to you that they’ve changed, that they're putting you first. 

The omega should be first. The omega should be the center. The omega should be the sun they gravitate towards, revolve around.

That’s what the book said. That book that’s sitting on your desk in the barracks. That book you read over and over, convincing yourself that it was true and they were a good pack like that book said. 

They’re not. 

We all make mistakes. 

They’ve never had an omega before. How are they supposed to know how to have an omega in their pack if they’ve never had one before? None of them came from big packs. John is the only one who’s ever even dated an omega before. They’re just as new at this as you are. 

You probably know more than them. 

You spent years learning how to be an omega in a pack. You read the books and wrote the essays and did the research. You read that book. 

Simon read that book too. 

Yet he did nothing. 

“Why did you want me?” Kyle asks softly, pulling you from your ruminations. 

You turn your head to look at him, staring into those soft brown eyes. Brown eyes you’ve missed. Tears trail down your cheeks as you stare at him, wetting the paths of the ones that had slowed to a stop in your rumination. 

Why did you want him and not Johnny? 

Johnny was the one that came for you, that comforted you, that got you through your fever. Johnny was the one you asked to hold you, to give you that support you’ve been so desperately clawing for. 

So why did you ask for Kyle?

You turn onto your back again so you’re laying side by side, your shoulder brushing his. He’s warm, and you just want to nuzzle into him and never let him go again. 

Another tear slides down your face as you stare at him, at that concerned look on his face. “I need you to tell me it’s going to be okay.” 

That concern morphs into understanding as he shifts slightly, reaching out for you. You let him, you let his thumb brush the tear sliding down your cheek away. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just staring at you as you lay there in the warm light of the lamp. The shadows don’t seem so close now, so threatening with him here. The things that lay in the darkness waiting for you to sleep so they can seep into your mind and stir up the horrible memories lying there in wait are at bay for now, fought off just simply by his existence in this room. 

His thumb continues to brush your cheek, your skin tingling along the path it follows. “It’s going to be okay.” He says softly, quietly. 

You’re not sure if he’s convincing you of that or himself, or perhaps both. You don’t know what he’s feeling, what he’s been feeling. You’ve been ignoring him, pushing him away out of fear that if you looked too closely, you’d break down. That bond will never break between the two of you, held tight with steel simply because of that claim your alpha and his alpha has on the both of you. No matter how much you hate John, that bond can’t be broken. It can’t be cut. It can’t go away. It can’t be denied. Not completely. 

A small smile tugs at Kyle’s lips, a reassuring smile. His words are stronger this time, spoken with more conviction and surety, like he’s speaking it into existence, manifesting it for the future when things perhaps can be different. 

When things are better. 

“It’s going to be okay.” He says, cupping your cheek, staring right into your eyes as he speaks. “We’re going to be okay.” 

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