#ill be lost down the rabbit hole for hours

[sophiethewitch1]

gang what the hell does damian wayne smell like this is important

[bettyfrommars]

Squirrel (a Gutterballs story)

Eddie Munson x betty!Reader

A jump from modern day to the early 1990's when we meet a young, aspiring rockstar Eddie Munson at the heart of the Seattle grunge scene. I had the huge honor of being included in the Tattoo Cover-up Valentine's Day Special episode of Gutterballs by @dr-aculaaa and I'm still emotional about it, to be honest. This wee contribution is dedicated to Drac, as well as all of the Gutterballs friends I'm proud to know because of this fandom (coming for you, Daria.)

word count: 1.4k

18+, smoking weed, the term 'bitches' used affectionally, mention of heartbreak, allusions to mental illness, a supposed one-night stand that became more, mention of addiction, that one friend who can find anyone online, hurt/comfort. Reader (Betty) has a good friend named Shelby, which is actually my cat in real life.

------

You picked at the label of your beer, waiting impatiently for your friend to pull up something on her laptop.

It was the recent episode of Gutterballs that had spurred your Sherlock Holmes friend into action. You said something in passing about how it’d be impossible to find the rest of Eddie Munson’s lost loves that were mentioned on the infamous podcast, and then she’d lost sleep wanting to prove you wrong.  

“So. Here’s Abi and Chelsea,” Shelby motioned for you to come and look over her shoulder. She clicked on search tabs one at a time, including one for Ashley, causing a melancholy smile to quiver at the side of your mouth.  “Pretty,” you nodded. “Eddie always knew how to pick ‘em.”

“This one looks dangerous,” she pointed to Jo, adjusting her glasses. “They all seem totally cool, actually.” 

You scanned the various results from her internet sleuthing.  “Which one is that?”

“Oh, that’s Meg,” Shelby clicked on a social media profile, and then pulled up a video of a chef with purple hair preparing something on the morning show.

“Fuckin, Meg,” you said under your breath in your best Eddie voice.  

“Doesn’t she own that restaurant in Chicago we couldn’t afford to go to?” Shelby pinched her joint from the ashtray and took a drag, enlarging photos from their menu, concentrating.  “I wonder if they accept Groupon.”

You stealthily followed Abby on social media from your private account and planned to buy some of her watercolor paintings.  Funny enough, you already knew Emily. The two of you had been part of a mutual friend group for years, and so when Eddie mentioned them being a bitch you had to snort a laugh because…yeah.    

“Nice work, Columbo,” you patted Shelby’s shoulder.  “You found all of them in under 24 hours. I shall make you a commemorative plaque out of dry macaroni.”

Checking her phone, your sleuth friend mumbled to herself as she went down a rabbit hole of social media comments.

“Not all,” she slipped her bottom lip through her teeth a few times.  “Took me a while to find Rose, they go by a different name on social media.  The drawings they do are badass, and they like that same actor you do, the one with the Minecraft head.”

“So, I’m the only one out of all of them who didn’t do anything with my life? Nice.”

“Hey,” she said in mock scorn.  “I bet none of these bitches can say they’ve had absolutely every career that’s ever existed. It takes a special kind of ingenuity to change jobs every 6 months. Plus, you wrote and published a whole-ass novel.”

“It only sold 37 copies,” you muttered. “Ten of which were to you and mom.”

You held your breath after that, watching the screen, waiting for the one name you hadn’t been able to connect a face to yet, but instead, Shelby slumped on the barstool with a defeated sigh.  “Daria might be the one that got away.  Haven’t found even a crumb for who or where they might be.”

“Damn,” you said softly.   …where are you, Strigoi? 

“How does Eddie even pull partners this hot?” Shelby asked, turning to dig for her Visine.  “Wasn’t he the one who bragged about being able to burp the alphabet?”

Laughter bubbled in your throat at the memory; the type of laugh that immediately made tears burst from your eyes. You wiped your face in a way that was more of a slap and turned to stare at the gloom settling into the pines outside the window. 

“He has a way about him I suppose.”

“I think you should call him,” she blurted, offering you a hit off the purple kush, but you waved her off. “If only to figure out the Daria mystery.”

“Oh yeah? Just call him? Just like that? Oh, hey Eddie I know it’s been almost three decades, but what’s new?”

“I mean, sounds legit to me.”

Remember those rainy days, Squirrel? Remember…

You tossed and turned early the next morning, reaching for your phone to scroll and help push away intrusive thoughts.  How many things you’d fucked up, how many friends you’d lost to time and death and sloppy choices.

Maybe not all was lost…

Seattle, early 1990’s

“My lady is here with us tonight,” Eddie rumbled into the mic, gesturing to you from where he stood on that rickety old stage in front of a rowdy crowd at The Crocodile Cafe. Alice in Chains had played there, as well as Mother Love Bone and Mudhoney, back before they were household names. “This next one's for her.”

From your seat at the bar, you locked eyes with him, beaming with pride, but also shaking your head. “I hate you,” mouthing the words made his dimpled grin grow wider.

“Betty Spaghetti…. My beautiful Aquarius twin.”

The ink on your matching Aquarius glyph tattoos were still covered in Aquaphor that night.  You’d spent the past two weeks trying to figure out how this chatty Indiana boy had managed to become a permanent fixture in your life. 

“I don’t want anything serious,” you’d said into his mouth while your hands were all over each other in the dive bar bathroom the first time you met. Bonding over booze, blow, and the shared trauma of losing a parent, you recognized that emptiness mirrored in each other and wanted to fill it.  

“Cool, neither do I,” he mumbled, shoving his jeans down his hips.  

But he’d been lying through his teeth, and he confessed that to you a month later down on the wharf, handing over a little squirrel made of shells from the pocket of his leather jacket. He’d been sneaky and bought it at Ye Olde Curiosity Shop, a place the two of you liked to go to visit the mummified remains of a dude named Sylvester. 

There was no major foundation for giving him the nickname Squirrel, one day it just happened.  He was on the couch in his boxers, stoned out of his gourd, shoveling pretzels into his mouth at such a manic rate that his cheeks looked like they were about to burst.  

“So, you knew I was the one back then? In a dark bar after 8 shots?” 

He looped his arm with yours as you walked. “Uh-huh, still do,” he leaned in closer. “Still do.”

At that moment, during those days, you worried that you wouldn’t be able to breathe without him. You were both so young, too young to fully comprehend the impact of that time in your life in later years, or what a trauma bond even was.

But then the day came that you’d come to realize would always arrive for you eventually, and that was the time to move on: to other experiences, other people. 

You didn’t know at the time that it could be done any other way, and so you made a real mess of things. 

He made several attempts to get in touch with you, including the time years later when he found out from your mom that you were in rehab.  He wrote to you, but you never wrote back, never returned his calls.  

He wasn’t trying to stir up the old flames or get back together; by then, that ship had sailed, and the Eddie Munson you knew never stayed single for long.  But he did want you to know that you weren’t alone, that you would always have a friend in him. That he’d meant it when he said he’d always care about you.

Returning to the current reality, you chewed at your thumbnail, staring at the phone number Shelby had written down for you on a yellow legal pad.  How she’d managed to get a hold of Eddie Munson’s private cell number, you’d never know.  

You were about to end the call after the second ring, flustered, thinking it would be better to send a text, when just then—- he answered. 

Eddie recognized the area code, but never thought in a million years that it would be…

“H-hey Squirrel, it’s me.”

Dead silence made your heart flop.  Maybe you should say it’s a wrong number, maybe this was a mistake.  What if he considered you a lost love, but he no longer wanted anything to do with you? He did cover up the tattoo, after all.  

“Well, well, if it isn’t my Betty Fuckin’ Spaghetti,” you could hear the joy in his voice, could hear his wide smile cracking into seasoned laugh lines.  “I’ve missed the shit outta you.” 

[ghostoffuturespast]

hey ghostie i was gna get specific for the ask game but I wanna know *all* of it now, the acronyms, the full names, all of em! are they for cyberpunk or other fandoms? no matter how much there is to know, i wanna know! talking about an idea helps a lot, i speak from experience! thanks for the mention, ill get on the wip game soon, too! ❤️

WIP Game Here

Thank you for the ask! I appreciate it :) They are all Cyberpunk 2077 things lol. I’ve largely been a lurker in other fandoms until this one, and this is the first one that finally compelled me to make stuff and that I’ve had the bravery to share. Don’t have many snippets at the moment, all of what I have so far is already out there. Since you asked for all of them though, I shall dish and give you a bit of a peak behind the curtain on how all this got started…

(I’m sorry, this got very rambly.)

And def tag me when you do yours! I will come find you and your wips! 🧡

SIG - So It Goes

(The title is based off the radio song from the game that you can listen to on Morro Rock. Never officially released and credited to the fictional band Fingers and the Outlaws in the game. Officially sung by Ryan Kattner, the front singer of the band Man Man.)

SIG is my current V/River conspiracy theory long fic that I’m working on, and the project is coming up on its two year anniversary. It’s also my first fic. I’m hoping to wrap it up this spring so I can move on to other creative endeavors. There are a lot of art projects, fandom and non-fandom related, that I’ve held off on because of this and I miss those hobbies. I also feel like I’ve been missing out a lot in the writing corner of the fandom too because a lot of new writers have popped up on the scene since I started (back when there was still a monopoly on the tag, but that’s a different story) and everyone else seems to be having fun reading everyone else’s fics, except me… Reading’s complicated for me right now. Writing this had a lot of ups and downs, but overall I’ve loved telling this story, learned a lot, and I’m really proud of it!

I think most people get into fic writing for the ships, the romance, the smut, the processing of internalized trauma, a more satisfactory ending, weird niche interests… And don’t get me wrong there’s a lot of appeal with all that, and definitely those aspects in my own work. But this whole thing got started because of conspiracy theories. I fucking love mysteries and puzzles, so after playing the sun ending and then I spotting Mr. Blue Eyes on the balcony during the conclusion of Dream On, I just about lost my damn mind. I went down the rabbit hole, spent hours reading shards and messages in the game, combed reddit theory posts, and started picking up on all the hints and foreshadowing of something larger looming throughout the game.

I initially didn’t have any answers when I made the decision to start this fic (fuck, high probability I still don’t), it was largely me brainstorming and trying to figure out what kind of story I wanted to write. Seeing if I could even piece things together. But in the process of thinking all that through, I came up with this little theory. I thought it was pretty mind blowing at the time (still think it is) but it’s been my little secret since I got here and I’m very anxious to finally share it.

Most people probably would have just written a theory post and been done with it, but I decided to turn mine into a fan fic lol. Which may or not have been a mistake, we’ll see. This is either gonna be game changing or everyone is going to think it’s dumb and I’m gonna be wearing a dunce cap for the next fifty years.

River Ward. The other half of my reason for writing this fic. I actually wasn’t sure if I liked him at first, it took me a while to warm up to him. But the more I got to know him, the more I started to like him. The more he grew on me. He got hotter over time. Plus, I’ve got a fondness for detective characters and unusual coats, so I should’ve seen it coming.

River’s gotten a lot of flak from this fandom. People claim he’s boring. He’s a cop, so acab. Being unemployed and living in a trailer park with your sister, niece, and nephews isn’t a particularly redeeming quality. I don’t agree with most of those statements, but I do agree with the folks who do appreciate his character, that in terms of development, he absolutely got shafted in the game. This fic is also an attempt to rectify that.

For as underdeveloped as his story arc was, there’s a lot of nuance to his character that I think gets glossed over by the game and most people. We didn’t get much, but out of what we did get, it’s been interesting trying to piece a story together that’s in line with what we got. And I did mention earlier that I like puzzles.

I’ve noticed that a lot of folks tend to lean very hard into the cop aspect of his character, but as far as I’m concerned, River Ward doesn’t give a shit about the law. Conducting an off the record investigation, intimidating a confidential informant, illegally obtaining evidence, breaking into a restricted lab, committing arson for your ex so she can pass a medical exam, conducting another investigation after being suspended; those are not the actions of a man who holds the letter of the law above all else. Those are the actions of man who is determined to get to the bottom of things, and protect people, all while navigating a system that is anything but equitable or fair. They are the actions of a man who is willing to go above and beyond for the people he cares about, even to his own detriment. His own safety. For River Ward, it was never about the law, it’s about justice. And pursuing that sometimes involves breaking the rules.

River is also Pomo. Which is something that was only added in subsequent patches, heavily glossed over in the game, and is only disclosed if you choose to actually romance him. But he’s Indigenous. Native American. And yet he still made a conscious decision to join the NCPD. Given the historical participation by law enforcement and government institutions in North America, and around the world, in the cultural erasure and mass genocide of entire nations, tribes, and communities of people. And given the current state of issues regarding law and judicial enforcement on tribal lands, I think River's character is a rather poignant reflection. Of wanting to good, of wanting the world to be better, but being confined in systems that simply won't allow that. There's a billion other little details I could ramble on about, but his character had the capacity to walk a very fine line of complexities which the game never really did justice to.

Diversity and representation in media are important to me, and I want this fic to reflect that. Being bi-racial, I didn’t get very much of it growing up, so if I can provide representation, even in some small capacity, I think it’s better than nothing. And while I don’t know if I’m achieving that, well, shit if I’m not trying.

I wouldn’t say this story was really meant to be original, but rather to fill in the gaps on the story we got and for me to practice writing. Practice telling a story. CP2077 is a violent game set in a violent world. And I somehow managed to start writing a story that accidentally ended up being a love letter to aikido. (Much to my chagrin. It’s everywhere. In everything. I cannot escape it.) Aikido is a martial art that translates “to the way of peace” or “the path of harmony.” Yet again, another study in dichotomies. How can a martial art, an art form designed to inflict violence, be peaceful? Aikido is as much of a martial art as it is a philosophy. We train to practice and learn that philosophy.

One of the major themes I’m exploring in this fic series is the nature of violence. What it is, the forms it takes, how cyclical it is, that it is a relationship - violence requires your participation. So the question ends up being: how do you break cycles of violence when you live in a world where you are beholden to it? V and River are very much two characters that are caught up in cycles of violence. Will they find peace? I don’t know, but maybe they can find out together.

From The Top

(This one isn’t named after a song. I just decided to start from the beginning.)

From The Top is the VP project I started up last spring where I’ve been taking storyboard style photos of all the main missions. Plus whatever else I feel like. I take all of my photos on PS5 in vanilla photomode and randomly started snapping pictures just because. I did landscape photos, shared a few. Got a bit of nice feedback from people who cared to look and then started branching out. I eventually got to the point where I started a new playthrough for the sole purpose of snapping photos.

Taking VP is very different from writing for me. I don’t have to think about. I don’t agonize about making sure every tiny detail is just right, because for the most part I don’t have very much control It’s candid, intuitive, experimental, it’s straight up play. I simply wait for opportunities to present themselves and capture whatever I think looks or feels interesting to me. It’s easy for me to walk away from it if it doesn’t do well when I post. Unlike my writing, there’s no ego attached to it.

I’m getting to the tail end of this project, I still have a couple of the base game missions to get through, but I’d also like to do Phantom Liberty as well. Not sure what my VP career is going to look like after this, might go into soft retirement. But that’s okay.

NR - Night Running

(Named after Night Running by Cage the Elephant)

Is a sleeper wip that’s currently in the notes, brainstorming, and kitchen drawer phase. It’s part 2 of my Nothing Comes Before Night City series. So It Goes is part 1.

It takes a long time for me to mull over and ruminate on ideas, so this document is largely just a repository for notes and thoughts. Jamming the utensils in the drawer until I’m ready to organize them. I have a very broad idea of what I’d like to happen in this fic, key moments I’d like to hit, but there’s still a lot of refinement that needs to happen, and stories this involved require me outlining. I do already have a running set list of songs to draw from though.

Les Preludes

(Named after Les Preludes by Franz Liszt)

Another sleeper wip, also in the brainstorming phase. These are meant to be one-shots or short stories from the Nothing Comes Before Night City series. Moments I mentioned in the series, but can’t fit into the larger story. Character studies and background lore from V, River, Johnny, Jackie, a couple of OCs and whatever else I can think of.

I will probably start casually working on these after I finish SIG and while I’m outlining NR. I’d like the series to go in chronological order. Should be fun. And I think it’ll be good practice for being more concise. Unlike, this response...

If you stuck around for this TedTalk and made it all the way to the end, thank you! 👻

[cyberpunkonline]

Fear and Loathing at The Party of The Dead

The sun crept malevolently over the horizon as we embarked on our perilous journey into the heart of inebriated darkness. A few beers, we had told ourselves, a simple mission to tame the savage beast of sobriety. But as the evening wore on, we found ourselves careening wildly down the rabbit hole of booze-soaked madness, time becoming a twisted mockery of itself and the dangers lurking around every corner.

Amid the swirling miasma of psychedelic intoxication and the relentless pursuit of a bender that would shake the very foundations of the universe, we, two intrepid protagonists found outselves caught in the throes of an adventure that could only be described as something out of a fever dream.

It began, as these tales often do, with the seemingly innocent intent of indulging in "a few beers". But in the ever-unpredictable realm of bacchanalian excess, intentions are little more than a fragile tether to reality, and the vortex of debauchery will swallow all who dare to venture within its grasp. As the hours blurred into an indistinguishable haze, the cruel alchemy of alcohol and other substances conjured into existence a whirlwind of danger, intrigue, and hedonism that would forever be seared into the memories of those present – if they could remember anything at all. Which few would.

It was in the aftermath of this madhouse, a party that had spiraled far beyond the realm of rationality, where the mysteries of the universe were laid bare. Our intrepid heroes, fuelled by a cocktail of cheap beer, unknown pills, and various powders, found themselves locked in a cosmic tête-à-tête about the nature of the afterlife. It was at this moment that I revealed an uncanny and utterly impossible truth. Like a modern-day Faust, I divulged my ungodly connection to the enigmatic Fae and the power it had granted me: I had gained the ability to commune with the dead in the spectral realm of the Jade Kingdom.

My companion, ever the skeptic, guffawed at the ludicrous notion and swiftly issued a challenge: prove it. And so, with a grin that was equal parts mischief and madness, the summoning began. Like the tales of old, the veil between worlds was torn asunder as the spirits of the dearly departed were conjured into the throes of the party. Dead relatives, long-lost friends, and even a few ill-fated acquaintances joined the bacchanal, their spectral forms revealing secrets that only they and the friend could possibly know.

As the night wore on, the party transformed into a macabre and twisted soiree, a celebration of the living and the dead, a testament to the raw, unbridled power of the Fae. The hours stretched into eternity as the spirits danced and cavorted alongside their mortal counterparts, a never-ending carnival of the bizarre and the arcane.

It was only when exhaustion and the last vestiges of their stupor finally caught up with them that our heroes succumbed to the siren song of sleep, collapsing into a fitful slumber amidst the ghostly revelry. When they awoke the following morning, the spirits had vanished, leaving behind only a haunting silence and a lingering glow that spoke to the otherworldly events of the previous night.

In that hallowed afterglow, there could be no doubt: my friend had become a believer in the awesome and terrifying power of the Fae. As for me, I had once again delved into the unknown and emerged with a tale that would forever blur the lines between reality and myth, forever questioning the nature of existence and the boundaries of our world.

The world was now a stranger place, the darkness more profound, and the thirst for the unknown an insatiable beast gnawing at the edges of my mind.

[roblox-yaoi]

*record scratch* so you may be wondering how we got into this situation-

Let’s take it back to April 22nd of 2023… man things sure were great back then: with such events as the death of queen Elizabeth II, the Hindenburg disaster, 9/11, the invention of the wheel and popsicles in just 2 week time frame and even the Cambrian explosion! Well, erm, let’s just say that more than just the Permian extinction happened that day…

That day we stumbled upon a itty bitty games called “Forgotten Memories” on Roblox. A fnaf fan game that cultivated a community of dedicated players due to its unusually high quality and babygirlification potential of its characters. Shorty after beating the 5th night, my “friend” challenged me and themself to draw our mains in the so-called “baby girl” pose. Little did we know this would send us down a rabbit hole of mental illness that neither one of us would recover from.

Where did we go from here? Too. Far.

Hours, literal HOURS of drawing these Roblox characters. Do you know what I could’ve been doing with my life? What meaningful cause that could have been dedicated too? Probably preventing the Permian extinction or inventing the wheel!

Countless hours of Aggie.io left us shells of the people once were- and what didn’t help was the invention of gay people. Because it gets worse from here. Two words for you my friends: Roblox. Yaoi. This blog’s namesake. One joke about a character being a homophobic homosexual derailed into an epic love story for the ages. Rivalry, friendship, heartbreak, magic, repression, love. And after we drew our first fan art, we couldn’t stop… we had to go farther.

Joining the discord server of the game confirmed our worst fears: no one else here is as insane as us. We sought comfort in each other, when there was none from the outside world. Slowly, we lost strength and we began to fade into nothingness as the horrors of touching grass started to become all too real…

But 8 months later, finally- the maze update was released… even with no character content we rushed to the scene and reignited our passion for Roblox. We beat every level, on each difficulty.

Today, we own every badge and are waiting in hope for the Asylum update to release (we are going either way)…

Anyways, yeah this blog is where we’re going to post fanart for this stupid fnaf Roblox game we found bc anywhere else we’d be called slurs.

[fwl22]

A Storm and a Flood, pt. 3

Final part from 8 November, 2023

The rain poured down for another 4 hours without a break. The power remained off. Eventually the frantoio closed up and the clients drove back to their homes. My wife texted around 8:15 that her train was coming to Bologna. Around 8:25 she was sitting in the station at Bologna with the train being held up and the first news of flooding and landslides began to come in. Trenitalia announced the train would be at least 40 minutes late to Prato. I started to prepare something for my own dinner. In the kitchen, in the candlelight, I saw outside as the storm, unbelievably, intensified, as thunder and lightning announced that more rain was falling. At 9:00, Francesca was told that the line from Bologna to Prato was closed, and the passengers were put on trains to Florence. She would eventually arrive to Prato from Florence around 11:00. In the interim, the wall in the lower corner of the forested area past the Limonaia collapsed due to the intense rain and the fact that all the drainage coming off the slope above the wooded area ran directly down to that point. With no drainage holes the water pushed and the wall gave away in a six or eight foot section that fell down near the big pine trees about three meters below. At this point everyone’s phones and devices were running out of battery, and word of the flooding in and around Prato was circulating with videos and texts. Francesca arrived in Prato and began to walk, but the rain was still falling and the streets were flooded. I drove down from the Villa to the Castellina area below the Villa al Palco to meet her and bring her home. The Via di Canneto was inundated and had extra debris strewn about where the water had been draining down the hill, but there were no losses or collapsed areas. The condition was nothing I had not seen before, but the fact that the rain continued to fall was exceptional. We kept noting to ourselves that we were lucky to be living well up on the high side of the river.

Friday morning gave us a chance to observe the situation. There was still no power, but the rain had stopped. Under grey skies, large areas of Prato and Campi Bisenzio were flooded and relief crews were already working to remove debris. There were reports of 3 deaths. Videos showed scenes that we have become used to seeing in the aftermath of floods with cars floating down roadways being pushed by enormous quantities of muddy water. Only this time the roads and neighborhoods were familiar places. Figline and Villa Fiorita were hit by water overflowing from poorly maintained and ill sized channels and sewers. Monica’s bunny and the other rabbits I had seen at the kennel yesterday were drowned when the area was flooded. Addio Bambi.

At Canneto, the water had pushed large amounts of debris down the roads and trails and had gouged large crevices and gaps in the ground. We set to work to dig out the mud and clear the drains and drainage channels with shovels and backhoe. It was eye opening to see the amount of large stones, fist sized and larger that had rolled down or had been dislodged. In the afternoon I set out to gather branches and sticks that had fallen from the trees in the piazzale. The work continued on Saturday, and Francesca helped to make the breakfast for guests on Saturday and Sunday while the power remained off. Our gas range top was a lifesaver, allowing us continue to cook despite having no electricity. In another bit of good luck/planning, the nieces had purchased a relatively small generator to back up their business, and it was sufficient to run a roomful of freezers so that no one lost all their food. It also allowed us to set up a charging station for everyone to keep their phones and devices working.

Finally on the Monday after the frantoio rented a large generator in order to put things back to work. First they had to clean all of the rotting olives out of the machinery and then get the facility back in action. The generator was big enough to power the whole house, so we have light and power again. It is nice to have some hot water, but we will have to wait to turn the heating on. My other sister in law's parents home is built on top of the garage, and the garage was flooded. The Civil Protection services came to pump the water out, but those of you with experience with floods know that the damage was done.

Looking out from the loggia, the fields of olive trees by the river are flooded and Cosimo Rucellai's stone walls are protecting some of those trees again. The Bisenzio river is still flowing near flood level. Many low-lying pockets of suburbs between Prato and Pistoia have remained without power and water for days. What changes the experience of this event will bring are impossible to know. While the Civil Protection and police have responded admirably, the most reliable aid usually came from neighbors helping neighbors. The clearing of debris will go on for a long time. The news reports you may have seen or heard were not exaggerated in this case. We were very fortunate to come away relatively unscathed. Perhaps the next source of amusement will be to see how many years it takes for the collapsed wall to be repaired. 

[dragoneyes618]

Down the Rabbit Hole

Takes place in @panthera-tigris-venenata’s Ally of Neverland AU.

Alice was missing. 

 Again.

This did not necessarily mean anything, Alice’s mother and father and older sister all told themselves. Alice was a big girl now, fourteen years old. Probably she’d just gone for a walk in the woods and lost track of time, or gone to the library and forgot to leave a note, or some such. She would be back soon, and they would scold her in relief. This did not necessarily mean anything.

But she wasn’t in her bedroom, and wasn’t in the kitchen, and wasn’t anywhere in the house, and wasn’t on the grounds, and the two maids and Alice’s governess hadn’t seen her, the groundskeeper hadn’t seen her, nobody had seen her-

As much as they tried to deny it, this brought back memories of the last time Alice had been missing, seven years ago. She had been gone for three days, and had reappeared at sunrise on the fourth in the middle of the garden, near the fence, hysterical, screaming about rabbits and caterpillars and broken mirrors, her dark hair a tangled mess, her hem and sleeves stained with blood from the countless small glass shards that had cut her hands and feet.

They knew, now, what sort of realm had set its sights on their daughter. It was for this reason that the groundskeeper was under strict orders to fill in any hole dug by any animal that appeared on the grounds, whether rabbit or mole or hedgehog, and that the Liddel house was unique in all of London in that it possessed no mirrors, not even a pocket one for the master of the house to shave with.

The day after Alice had been found, every single animal on the Liddel estate had died.

Mice, squirrels, hedgehogs, even a few unlucky birds had all been found dead in the garden, on the walks, on the threshold of the house. Even Dinah the cat had not escaped; she lay at the entrance to Alice’s room, her scarlet blood staining the rug.

They had not died of illness. Every single animal had been neatly decapitated, its head lying beside it.

It had been seven years, yet Alice still flinched at the sight of her own reflection.

It had been seven years. Surely the Land of Wonder would not try to reclaim their daughter?

Alice had been gone for approximately six hours by the time the door knocker pounded weakly against the locked door. They all jumped up, frantic; Alice’s mother opened the door and gasped in horror as her younger daughter came stumbling in.

The first thought that crossed their minds was that this had indeed been a repeat of seven years ago. Alice’s face was haggard, the cloth of her dress torn. She looked like she’d been in a waking nightmare, and her feet were bare, scraped and dirty. She clutched a big package wrapped in dirty cloths tightly to her chest.

They ushered her in, embraced her, sat her down. Alice’s sister went running to get her a soothing drink, Alice’s favorite; warmed milk - not tea. Never tea - with honey.

“What happened?” Her mother asked her. “Where have you been?”

“Was it-” Her father hesitated, leaning forward.

The package moved.

Everyone inhaled sharply.

Alice presented the package to them. Not a package after all, but an infant, a mere baby; a little girl of perhaps a year old, clad in filthy rags and wrapped in an equally filthy blanket, with wisps of blonde hair and eyes closed in uneasy slumber.

“No,” Alice said quietly. “Not Wonderland.”

.

“The Isle,” her father said quietly, after. “The Isle of the Lost. You’ve really been there.”

She nodded.

“And you took...” Her mother hesitated, gesturing toward the baby. Alice didn’t know her name.

“Her mother gave her to me.” They’d given the baby a bath - she’d screamed, but Alice had held her and sang to her and the baby had calmed down enough to fall asleep again as they were dressing her in an old dress of Alice’s that her mother had found in the back of a drawer, yellowed from thirteen years of disuse. Alice’s sister was currently hunting through the kitchen for appropriate food to feed the baby when she woke.

“The Isle...of villains?” Her father asked. “With a baby?”

“There’s lot of babies there,” Alice said. “Little kids, too. Younger than me.” She took a shaky breath. “It’s not just the villains there. All the babies - the children - it’s horrible there, they have no shoes, they’re all so skinny, there’s no food for them - her mother, she begged me to take her away from there-” She was crying now. Her mother drew her into a hug, and Alice let her.

“I promised, Mum,” she whispered. “I promised her mother I would take care of her. We can take care of her, can’t we?”

They could take care of her. They could take care of an innocent baby. But-

“The Isle,” her mother breathed. She met her husband’s eyes; they were each thinking the same thing.

Alice squinted up at them. “What about it?”

“She’s from the Isle. There were rules, set in place when the Isle was created....”

Alice’s father nodded. “No one may exit the Isle. To assist anyone in doing so may lead to being exiled to the Isle yourself.”

His words fell like pebbles into a silent well. No one moved.

“But she’s just a baby!” Alice’s eyes widened, still a child, so young, so sure that her parents could fix everything. “We wouldn’t get in trouble just for a baby, would we?”

“We would.” He hated to say it, but someone must. “You would be sent to the Isle, Alice. All of us as well, if we try to keep her.”

“But we can’t-” Alice’s eyes were like the sky, pale blue, just before a storm darkens them. “I promised! I promised her mother, I promised!” A mother who would rather be separated from her own child forever than see her grow up in her home.

“Perhaps an orphanage, or foster care?” Alice’s mother suggested. “She would still have a good life...” Better than the Isle, went unsaid.

Alice’s father shook his head. “We’d have to explain where we got her from. There would be questions. I suppose we could leave her on the doorstep of an orphanage or something...” He didn’t want to, none of them wanted to abandon a baby at a doorstep without so much as a note, with no guarantee of her being well cared for, but it was the only option.

“No,” Alice gasped. “We can’t. I can’t. I promised I would take care of her. I have to-” She was crying again now. “You don’t understand, you didn’t see, I promised!”

She jumped up and snatched up the baby.

“Alice!” her mother cried, reaching toward her, but she was already at the door.

[kpopisthereasonihavenolife]

Fury of Their Scales

m.yoongi / reader

genre: dragon!au, wyvern!yoongi, human/herbalist!reader,

warning(s)!!: isolation/alienation, mentions of war, injuries/blood/violence, dragon boy yoongles is stuck in a trap bc he’s dumb, y/n is so sO pure, protective dragon yoonyoon, villagers physically bully y/n a lot :(, unfair situations, y/n takes so much shit like a champ she deserves an award, dragon boy is a dragon for the first half of this (sorry, not sorry), don’t be scared there's actual humor and wholesome stuff too :D, slow burn (kinda)?  

w.count: 17.7k

Series | One-shot | Two-shot | Drabble | [Rated: T]

synopsis: a world of dragons, demons, devils, gods and ghouls- humans were of small number. you’ve lived on the outskirts of your human village in the woods ever since you could remember. living alone in a small cabin with nothing but woodland trees, ponds, lakes and animals was like a small paradise- with the occasional bump in the road. as someone who’s studied and experimented with nature to make all sorts of concoctions- your home was ideal. it didn’t matter that your village didn’t like it or that they rejected your life of medicine. what did matter, however, was the dragon stuck in a trap not too far from your home that you just discovered.

a/n: i literally haven’t sat down to write fanfiction in over a month bc my brain was fried and i got sucked balls deep into a fandom of an anime i dont even watch (yet). It took me three hours to edit this bc i pass tf out, pls be easy on me LOL

A shrill whine echoed through the woodland area. Bouncing off trees, echoing in caves, spooking off wildlife of rodents and critters that crept along the ground with far too many spindly legs.  Rustling in the wind, entangling with the leaves that blew and then erupting when a campfire crackled, settling in it’s burning pit of wood and stone.  

-x-x-x-

You shot awake in bed, the morning light peeking in through your bedroom window that was covered in a beginning to tear curtain.  You breathed out a heavy sigh as you flopped back down onto your mattress that squeaked at your movement.  You really should be getting a new bed sometime soon. This one was old and did nothing for your pressure points or back while you slept.  What was the point of a good night rest when you wake up feeling like you just wrestled a bear and lost? 

You looked at the small streaks of light that soaked into your wooden home as you closed your eyes, took a deep breath and opened them again before getting out of bed.  You threw your covers off, your nightdress coming down to your knees as you started to stretch.  Your arms reached above your head as you stifled a yawn. 

You could hear the birds outside and from the way the sun angled into the room through the drapes, you assumed it was still fairly early.  You hated that you could never seem to sleep until later into the morning, but you couldn’t help the fact that when you're up, you're up for the day unless you’re ill. 

Walking to your window, you drew open the curtains and immediately shut your eyes. Peeling them open slowly in a squint, the morning light was brilliant until you finally adjusted to the sudden light difference.  Letting the morning sun warm your room with sunspots, you started to change.  

Tossing away your nightdress, you changed into your everyday- not at all flattering- attire.  

A dress of a faded moss green skirt and a stretched, overly used leather corset around your waist that tucked around the white top half of your dress. Tying your hair back you slipped on some socks. 

Leaving your room, you immediately dashed to your fire place where a kettle of day old water hung from the single hook inside the top of the pit.  Striking a match, you ignited the wood that had not yet been completely burnt and noted to refill the kettle with fresh water later on- too lazy to do it right off the bat. 

You walked around your small, cabin home jumping place to place with small tasks or chores that took a mere few seconds to complete to start your day off waiting for your kettle to whistle with hot water.  When it finally did, you carefully took your kettle with a cloth wrapped around your hand and set it on your countertop. Grabbing a clay mug from your cupboard (that you made on your own to your pride), you dropped in a few leaves from a box of herbs you had and poured the steaming hot water over them.  

“Alright,” you assured yourself as you left your kettle to cool off again. After a handful of minutes, you took your mug and sat yourself at your small table that was made for two- but only occupied by yourself. You lifted open your window and let out a breathy sigh at the fresh air.  You placed a small plate of grain and food on the open window seal and soon enough, birds were flocking to it to grab something. 

“Good morning you guys,” you chuckled as you basked in the small moment of peace before the day ahead.  You weren’t sure how long you were sitting there in your spot of sunlight and birds with the occasional squirrel, but after the sun had shifted just enough to get you to notice, you deemed it long enough. 

Getting up, you set your mug into your sink and took the plate that was previously filled on the widow as you walked to your door.  Grabbing a white cloak to tie around your shoulders, a small gathering basket and placing a pair of worn down, brown boots on, you were leaving your home.  Grabbing the key that hung on a nail beside the door, you locked your cabin door behind you and placed the key around your neck. 

Taking a list from beneath the small cloth in your basket, you started reading aloud to none other than yourself.  You kept yourself company, that’s the only way you stayed somewhat entertained in your lonesome cabin. 

You lived on the outskirts of your village, having been born in this cabin and growing up in it even when your parents left you there as a child.  You found out quickly how to grow and live independently and by now it was just second nature.  Sure, you had your rough days of work and weather, but it was manageable.  At least you didn’t have neighbors that stressed you out- only the occasional bird, bat or squirrel that got stuck in your chimney that you had to chase out. 

“I need to find some goldenrod for sure,” you muttered.  “I’ll need to make sure not to grab yarrow in its place; although, I guess it wouldn’t be all that bad if I did.” Your knowledge and interest in medicine was also another reason why you never branched further into the village as a person.  All they did was ridicule you for not following the status quo. “I need honey too, but I’d have to go to the village for that unless some merchant runs into me while I’m out.” You sighed, “I doubt it. I’m never that lucky.” 

You started your way off, passing by the small well in your front yard and bypassing the small station of firewood you had yet to cut and move.  A pile of logs sat sliced into thirds under a tarp beside your front door. The hardest part of your life was building the muscle and stamina to cut your own firewood, not to mention swinging and actually hitting the wood with your axe instead of magnificently missing it and getting the blade stuck in the stump you used to chop on. 

As you walked away from your cabin, the trees becoming thicker as you followed the dirt trail further into the woods, you started looking around.  Scanning for any signs of any herb that you may want to snag along the search for the days main goal: goldenrod.  You started off the path and began walking between trees and away from small holes from rabbits and moles so you don’t jeopardize your ankles and fall. 

You were searching for a while as you were knelt into the grass, scanning leaves and flower petals to identify what was what when you thought you heard something.  From somewhere beyond the trees, past the wall of foliage, you though you heard a sort of... whining? Or maybe howl?  

A sense of deja-vu washed over you. Had you heard this whining somewhere before? Was it a wolf cub or maybe a bear? No, it sounded too rough to be either of those.  A cry echoed after a moment of silence and then the whines from before returned shortly after.  

A part of you wanted to forget about it and leave the area immediately.  Something about the way it seemed to bend and mold the air around you with it’s unfamiliar cry made your skin crawl.  However, the bigger part of your heart that knew that the cries you were hearing were cries for help made you think otherwise.  

Rising to your feet, you tucked your basket to your side closer in a pitiful sense of self-comfort as you made your way towards the cries. The trees became less dense and soon you were approaching a small opening.  You could hear the sounds of metal clanking together along with the loud cries and whines.  Perhaps an animal had gotten snagged in a trap?  If that were the case, you wondered if you should free it or not. 

Although you felt bad for the animals in the moment, you knew that they were someone else's food source or something important to help somehow; whether it be a pelt for warmth or their claws for weaponry. You had no right to free an animal that wasn’t your prey- so you decided that if it was an animal you’d leave no matter how much your heart ached.  

When you could see the clearing ahead, you slowed your footsteps and slowly crept up behind a tree to peer around it.  As you did so, your breath caught in your throat as you gasped and slapped a hand over your mouth to keep from choking and making a sound.  You spun around, nearly dropping your basket from your arm as you hid behind the tree you had peered around and pressed your back firmly to it’s trunk. 

Your breath shuttered, shook, halted and repeated.  You couldn’t remember how to breathe properly as you tried to be as quiet as possible.  Around that tree trunk and indeed caught in a metal trap was no animal. 

It was a dragon. 

You racked your brain trying to be reasonable.  Perhaps it was just a trick of the mind? A hallucination? Maybe the leaves you boiled earlier that morning were hallucinogenic and you were simply too careless about what you were brewing in your morning daze? 

You peered one more time around the tree trunk to verify and your entire body ceased up again at the same dragon from the first time you saw it.  You didn’t hide immediately this time.  You stayed hidden, tucked away but examined the situation the best you could; even if every orifice of your body was telling you to run. 

You weren’t too well versed on the dragon race, but this particular dragon you had read about before in a book once- but only briefly.  A wyvern you think it was called. 

The creature was large, as tall as the trees- one not quiet fully grown yet you imagined. Or maybe it was because the creature was folded in on itself, crouched to the ground as it tugged on it’s trapped legs- so it appeared smaller en masse. 

A large bear trap had sunk it’s sharp metal teeth into the scaled leg of the mighty creature.  With nowhere near enough space to try and fly away- trap attached or not- and no room to try and back away, shake it off or even break the chain that held the trap in place, the dragon was ultimately stuck in whining pain. 

It’s scales were that of ashen red; the color of a fine blush, but rough to the texture like brick. It’s arms were large and folded inwards, the talons of one digging into the earth to steady itself and the other crawling at the trap futility. It’s long tail was curled around it’s back and the length of it disappeared behind the tree line where you suspected it was barbed at the end.  It’s head was long, thin and had three horns- one on the end of its nose and two on either side of it’s head. 

Needless to say, it was a wonder to witness.  A dangerous wonder, but a wonder no less. 

Dragons were a very rare sight around human territory.  They hated the human race and for reasons that you couldn’t blame them for.  Years ago, you had read about a war- if you could call it that- that took place between human and dragon.  

The humans in their invincible high from all sorts of discoveries and conquering of other places had decided to set their sights on the dragons.  If they could tame the mighty beasts of the skies and elements and use them as war creatures- the people would reign over all. That’s what they had assumed. 

They had no idea just what they had signed themselves up for when they marched into Dragon Country. The doom that took place was instantaneous for the first brave and foolish group of marchers and it only got worse.

A group of nearly 400 men were slaughtered at the hands of just a few dragons who were the first to be approached as mere animals.  Burned alive, crushed, eaten, slashed into ribbons- the humans stood no chance in hell. 

Then, the dragon’s returned the favor.  If the humans wanted war, so be it.  The dragon race was smart, far smarter than the average genius human being.  With magic on their side along with their mighty strength and numbers, they took to the Humanlands and burned it to the ground. 

This pathetic war lasted no longer than a week and nearly one-third of the human population was blown away from the very beasts they had wanted to tame and use.  

The two had long since left each other alone, no one wanting to repeat the past.  Humans fear dragons due to the stories- that was unavoidable. However, dragons live long and hate even longer.  They can hold a grudge longer than that of a devil or demon.  

That is what shook you to your core as you gazed at this one single dragon caught in the woods of the Humanslands. Why was it so far from Dragon Country? Had it wandered here because of boredom? Perhaps it was banished by the king of dragons you had known about.  Or maybe this dragon was just foolish. You weren’t sure and you less sure if you’d stick around long to find out. 

The creature was a terror and the snarls and whines and cries that came from it were something that would surely haunt you in the middle of the night when you hear the wind howl. Regardless of that however, you felt pity for this dragon.  

As of the moment, it had hurt no one and you had heard no word of any dragon attacks.  It was just stuck, injured and helpless.  Before you could muster up the conscience to quietly leave, you stepped forwards just an inch and knocked a small rock from its place on a tree root.  

The dragon’s head whipped up, it’s sensitive nose finally catching a whiff of a different scent that wasn’t of Woodland descent now that it wasn’t as preoccupied with the stupid bear trap. 

It’s black coal eyes narrowed as it’s mouth opened to show its rows of white fangs that could easily devour you. A violent shiver ran through your entire body as your eyes connected with its own.  You were discovered and there was no going back down. 

Swallowing the lump in your throat felt like a massive stone was lodged inside. You took a few more shaky steps forward, showing your entire body to the beast.  It’s winged arms lifted in defensive as it’s head lowered; it’s chin becoming level with the ground and still growling.  You could see plumes of steam coming from its mouth due to it’s hot breath. 

It was clear this particular creature wanted nothing to do with you- a human- and you couldn’t blame it.  You didn’t want to be here either. This situation could end with you getting killed, but your morality and ability to sympathize with the weak or injured was larger than the risk of your safety. 

Lifting your arms to show you had nothing on you, you started to enter the small clearing.  

“Easy,” you hushed softly as the dragon snapped it’s jaw just one time in warning. You gulped again, daring to take another stupid and foolish step. “I want to help,” you said.  Earning another growl in response didn’t shock you. 

It took several minutes, a handful of snaps to stay away, constant growls and steam filled breaths for you to even get within arms reach of the trap.  You were sure that if you made one wrong move the creature would bite you in half- but you had to take a chance.  

You think the dragon knew this too.  You were the closest thing to an escape it would probably find that wasn’t going to go and tell other humans to capture or kill it. It would cooperate until it was free, you were sure of that- but after? You could only imagine. 

It’s winged arms were around you, shading you from the sunlight that the tree’s didn’t cover as your fingers brushed the cool metal of the trap. As you eyed it you wondered why someone would make such a large trap in the first place.  It seemed far too large and frankly a bit overkill for a just a bear trap.  

You look over your shoulder to see the head of the dragon that was the size of your body staring down at you just above your head. You swallowed for the nth time that morning in nervousness. 

“I’m going to try and release it,” you say. “It’s going to hurt.” 

You carefully pulled the sleeves of your dress up as you curled your fingers around the thick metal teeth.  The scales of the dragon were broken and destroyed as the trap dug into it’s reptilian-like skin. 

Blood had already begun to stain the metal. The trap’s teeth were warm- warmer than the rest of the trap due to the dragon's blood being so much hotter than an average animal or human.  It’s hot, like steamed bathwater, and it steamed the metal to warm your hands almost uncomfortably. 

You took a breath before you started to pull your arms away, fingers aching from pulling on the teeth to try and open the trap.  You had been thankful in the moment that you did indeed chop your own firewood because it built up some bit of muscle in the grand scheme of things.  The trap began to give and slowly creaked open bit by bit.  The dragon’s coal black eyes widened a fraction as it started to wriggle it’s leg. 

“Stop moving,” you hissed instinctively. If it thrashed too much, you could loose your grip and then it would just clamp down on it’s leg again. With a whining and grunting mixture of sounds, you soon pried it open enough to where you were almost certain the creature could free itself.  “Okay,” you huffed in endurance as you held it open, “move!” 

The dragon was quick to rip it’s leg out of the trap and send it, and you, off the ground.  The rapid motion tore you away from the trap, the metal scratching your fingers as you fell to your ass and then onto your back in the dirt as the trap snapped shut again away from you.  It fell to the Woodland floors empty and bloody as you hissed on your back. 

You pain and breathlessness were soon replaced by fear and anxiety when you felt the dragon you had just freed hover over you.  It’s taloned, long, winged arms were on other side of your body and it’s hind legs- one of them being the proffered injured one that still bled over it’s brick colored scales- were perched like it was ready to pounce.  

It’s nostrils were hovering above your chin as it’s eyes bore dangerously into your own.  

This was it.  You were going to die, you were almost certain of it now.  

The dragon huffed as it opened its mouth.  Small licks of fire fanned across it’s tongue in the dark cavern of it’s fang lined mouth and steam pushed from it’s nostrils like a chimney that hadn’t been opened to let out the smoke of the fire in it’s hearth.  

You were petrified, frozen in fear and weren’t even capable of breathing.  All of your senses were focused on the threat of death inches away from you and you knew that no one would know that you died.  No one would find it odd that you weren’t in the village like you were every few weeks or so. They wouldn't find it strange that your cabin was abandoned. And you were certain that they would not conduct a search for you- you didn’t matter to them in the long run. 

You were going to die and you were going to do so alone and your body would stay alone until the earth reclaimed it in it’s soil. 

The dragon only then opened its mouth further, roared into your face and then sprung off you.  It plunged into the tree line, knocking down and busting through the trees and tearing up the soil beneath its claws and talons as it escaped. Running from you and leaving you alive. 

“What,” you breathed as you soon let out a strong, almost painful, burst of air that had been held and contained in your chest.  Your heart beat strong like it would burst straight from your chest into the sky.  You weren’t sure how long you lay in the dirt just trying to regain control of your body that had been previously paralyzed. 

When you did manage to pick yourself up- albeit pathetically- you grabbed your discarded basket once again and rushed home.  

“No more outside,” you declared to yourself in the clearing of trees and the one bloody trap left behind. 

-x-x-x-

Despite the events of the day behind you, once your heart calmed itself and you were able to finally rationally think again instead of assuming you were at death’s door, your mind would flutter back to the dragon and it’s injury. 

As you carried in buckets of water from your well or logs of wood for your fireplace, you worried.  You felt silly worrying over such a mighty and strong being, but you couldn't stop that cloud from covering your mind. You wondered how it was doing or if it made its way out of the Woodlands- only briefly thinking about the damaged and torn or uprooted trees in its wake. 

You went to bed that night far earlier than usual. The blanket of black had not yet completely enveloped the sky of deep orange and red.  However, maybe the early bedtime hadn’t been a bad idea, considering you were awoken in the middle of the night anyway. 

It was a small noise in the distance.  A sound like the padding of paws of a dog running on wood or horse clops on cobblestone.  Small and forgettable, but almost irritating and grinding on the nerves of the listener.  

Crawling out of bed almost at zero energy levels from your previous encounters, you shook your head to try and shake the sleepiness away. Trudging to your door, you cracked it open to try and see if it was some foxes scraping in the glory of midnight or maybe some critter getting into trouble. Instead, when your door opened, the sounds of an eerily familiar growl filtered through the air. 

All tiredness from before flew away as you shut the door harshly and grabbed your cloak to throw over your nightdress. You rushed to your table to grab your glass covered lantern and lit it before blowing out the match and tossing it. Going back to your door you threw it open again and ran out of it.  You didn’t even bother locking it, the key still hanging on it’s key as it flopped against the wall from the air of the forcefully shut door.  

You ran through the woods, trying your best not to trip on any rocks or sticks. You let out an occasional wince from your bare feet scraping too hard on the dirt or catching on the rough end of a stone. You were going down hill when you saw in the shadows a series of trees uprooted or knocked in two with claw marks on the trunks.  

You tried skidding to a stop when the hill started to level out steadily, but there was a fat chance of that happening.  You threw open your arms and snagged a tree trunk to forcefully stop yourself from going further.  Your legs flew out in front of you far too dramatically for a spontaneous run in the woodlands at midnight as your lantern nearly flew out of your grasp.  

You huffed as you heard the same growls you had heard before echo around you.  You could hardly see, but you could tell the outline of the dragon in the darkness.  You looked around as your lantern had lost it’s flame.  

You dug in the pocket you had sewn into your nightdress and struck another match, lighting it again as the fire dimly lit up your face.  You were now fully aware you were seen- even though you knew it already to begin with.  

The dragon had previously been nipping and lapping at it’s wound with it’s split tongue before you had interrupted it’s silence.

“I knew it,” you whispered as you saw the same dragon from before.  You slowly approached it, somehow feeling a little more confident than earlier even though it still growled at you.  “Hey,” you soothe, “you know me. Just let me see,” you said as you walked around it’s curled body to it’s injured leg.  Lifting your lantern up to see better, you weren’t shocked to see the scales still wet with troves of blood.  Just how much blood did dragons have? 

If a human bled this much for this long, you were sure they’d be long dead by now. 

You carefully set your lantern aside and worked around your neck to remove your white cloak from your shoulders. “Hold still,” you instructed as you started to rather sloppily wrap the wound. You couldn’t let it just keep bleeding and it wasn’t like you had anything else to try and wrap it in- you’d just have to sew a new cloak or buy a new one in the village. 

You didn’t even take the time to be shocked that the dragon once again let you do as you pleased in aiding it’s unfortunate situation. In fact, it was silent.  There was no growling or snarling, just the sound of hissing when you brushed against the wound or wrapped your cloak around it too tight. 

When you finished, you almost pouted at the sight of your cloak already starting to dot with the dragon’s hot blood seeping through the fabric.  A loss, yes, but you felt like it was worth it from the relief you felt in your chest at the dragon’s ease of tension. 

“If you stay put,” you started, grabbing your lantern again and looking up at the dark eyes of the dragon you were becoming almost familiar with, “I can come back in the morning with something to help you.” The dragon showed no sign of obeying or denying you and you weren’t going to stick around and press the issue.  

At the end of the day, it could still very well tear you apart. 

You soon left the dragon’s side, the fire of your lantern lighting your way back home. You’d come back just as you said you would and if the dragon was still there, then you’d try and help further so that it can eventually go back home.  Even you knew that it had a home somewhere and you were sure that home was missed to some degree. 

When you returned to your cabin, you breathed a small sigh of relief when you saw that in your haste of not locking your door behind you- no nightcrawler had snuck in and wrecked your home or stole anything.  You walked inside, shutting and tightly locking up behind you as you set your lantern on your table.  

Wincing at your sore feet, you wrapped them in cloth and a paste of herbs you had in a jar to help soothe aches and pain before you tucked yourself back into bed. Hopefully, you could stay asleep until the sun rises this time. 

-x-x-x-

You were pleased to see that when you opened your eyes again, you could hear the birds and see the sunlight of what looked like late morning.  At least you managed to get some decent sleep- although you weren’t all too surprised looking back on the last 24 hours.  A lot had happened and to say it was taxing was an understatement. 

You were slow moving this morning; another thing you weren’t shocked about.  

Trudging around your cabin, you walked around in your nightdress gathering small jars of salves and ointments that could be useful to the dragon in the woods that may or may not still be there with your- no doubt- beyond salvaging cloak. 

When you finally got changed, you threw on a dress of a fairly unflattering shade of brown since you may be kneeling on the ground or thrown into the dirt again from the dragon. You wrapped up a new layer of paste for your still sore feet before pulling them into your boots. You grabbed your basket with your half-hazardly thrown together first aid treatments and left your cabin- actually locking the door this time. 

It was all a blur on what direction you rushed to last night in your sleepy, adrenaline pumped haze, but you were able to clearly see where your footsteps pressed into the soil. Following your own trail, you carefully descended the hill you flew down the night before and when it all leveled out, you smiled at seeing the dragon sleeping peacefully in the same spot you left it.  

“Good,” you breathed happily.  You were glad it stayed put- whether it was because you asked or not didn’t matter.  You would be able to help more now and nothing filled your chest with more glee than being of use to someone, or rather something in this way.  Healing was your passion after all. 

You slowly padded up to the sleeping dragon and decided against working on it while it slept.  It could spring to life and attack you out of instinct for all you knew. You sat a good distance from its body and in view of it’s line sight for when it woke up you wouldn’t be hidden. You sat on the ground, you're back against the trunk of a tree as you started digging around your basket for the folded and wrapped up herbs you had. 

You weren’t sure how long you sat in the tree shaded morning sun plucking, grinding and mixing different herbs together in a cloth draw pouched you had with you. Eventually you started to hear groans from the dragon ahead of you.  You figured that if the first thing the creature sees when waking up was you staring at it, then you’d push away any future idea of treating its leg. So, you kept yourself occupied with your herbs until it made a noise of awareness. 

A handful of minutes pass when you feel a warm wind push towards you. Instinctively, you look up to see the dragon’s dark eyes looking at you. You smile at the mighty beast, the polar opposite of yesterday’s fear stricken paralysis. 

You finished grinding a handful of mint smelling herbs between your palms to sprinkle into an oil you had with you as you swashed it around in it’s cork plugged jar.  It was odd, doing your everyday tasks with a dragon for an audience.  

When you finished, you stood up after placing the jar back under the cloth of your basket and brushed off your dress’s skirt.  You fumbled around to grab the small oval container of salve before you started to approach the dragon. 

It didn’t growl and it didn’t snarl.  It extended it’s winged arms as it’s head dropped to the ground and it’s leg that was wound with your cloak that was now a deep shade of red was pushed out further for you to inspect.  You didn’t want to let it get to your head that maybe, just maybe, this dragon was learning to trust you. 

You knew that dragon’s had to have good instincts, so maybe it just realized that you weren’t a threat. 

You carefully unwound your awfully tied cloak as you tossed it to the ground in a heap. You were glad to see that the hot blood that had been continuously seeping through brick red scales had finally stopped.  You twisted open the container and began to smear the salve over and between the thick scales to the broken skin beneath. 

You had expected them to be cooler to the touch like a lizard’s skin, but the scales and skin of the beast was warm like a freshly doused warm towel. 

The dragon let you work in peace as it watched you without disruptions or growls.  It didn’t even twitch if you touched a particularly pain-sensitive area. 

When you finished, you placed the cap back over the salve and looked up at the dragon to address it. “The bleeding looks to be done, but we should cover it with something.” You looked down at your soiled cloak. “We can’t reuse that, it’s already used and we can’t put dried blood back on a wound.” You started to walk away to your basket to place the salve back and maybe take your cloth in your basket to try and at least tuck it into it’s scales or something when something snagged your dress skirt. 

Yelping, you spun around and took a moment to process that the dragon had moved it’s winged talon to step on your dress to keep you from moving.  Looking up to its face, you saw it looked at you with a calm expression flitting through its eyes and it shook its head.  

“What?” You asked more to yourself than the dragon.  “You don’t want it to be wrapped?” The dragon only moved it’s head back to look at it’s leg before lifting it���s arm back up and freeing you.  You trotted back to the dragon’s leg and squinted at it like he was trying to tell you to. 

You gasped at seeing how the wound already looked way better than it had just twenty minutes ago.  You saw the damaged scales start to repair themselves as the skin below it’s scaled armor pulled itself back together and became covered again. You looked back to the dragon’s face, relief evident in your expression as you breathed out a sigh of happiness with a hand on your chest like a weight had been lifted off you. 

“Oh, thank goodness. I’m glad that the rumors of a dragon’s healing potential are true at least.” You went back to your basket, dropping the container of salve inside as you lifted it back into your arms. “I’m going to be on my way then,” you said. You felt a little bad for leaving so soon, but you had hardly gotten anything down yesterday because of your meeting with the beast, so you were already behind on your own personal tasks.  

You still needed to find some goldenrod and if you were honest, plucking some stuff to replace the amount of salve you used on the dragon’s leg wouldn’t be so bad either.  

As you left into the thick Woodland, you couldn’t help but feel like you were being watched.  You peered over your shoulder several times and from somewhere you could almost tell that the dragon was watching you from beyond the trees.  Dragons had eyesight far stronger than human eyes, so when you felt a stare on your back, you didn’t doubt it. 

It was obvious that it couldn’t travel through the Woodlands like you could without plowing down trees in its wake and it wasn’t exactly spacious enough to spread its wings and take off in this section of the woods. 

When you left a location you could feel the eyes following you and even heard stomping in the distance of the dragon moving so it could keep you in it’s sights.  You wondered briefly why it would be following you around if not for it wanting to eat you, but you just shrugged it off.  

It was just past midday when you had finally started to depart back to your cabin. As you unloaded your basket inside your cabin and began to put everything away, you went back outside to gather a bucket of water from your well and you nearly jumped out of your skin from the sounds rustling behind your home. 

If the glimpse of horns and wings was anything to go by, you knew that the dragon had somehow squeezed around the trees and followed you back to your cabin. Even closer to human territory.  You crept around the cabin and met the dragon face to face for yet another time as you just smiled at it. It seemed relaxed and at ease to your surprise. 

“Are you going to follow me around now?” You playfully asked as all it did was let out a small huff.  “I know you can understand me,” you teased as you looked it up and down.  You felt bad mentally referred to it as ‘it’ all this time, but you had no idea how to tell what this wyvern was.  “If you’re going to follow me around girl-” your sentence was stopped short at a small growl.  You perched your brow up at the dragon as it glared down at you. “Boy?” You corrected as the unpleasant look left his eyes.  

You ticked your head a bit, nodding to yourself.  

“Okay, that settles that.” 

Throughout your day, you had the company of a dragon sitting in your yard watching you work. When you were inside, you kept the front door propped open with a piece of wood at the bottom and the windows were open so the dragon could still see you and you could still talk to him. 

You rambled- a lot.  It felt silly to be having a one-sided conversation with a dragon, but you couldn’t help it.  You didn’t want him to feel left out- as odd as it was to say in terms of the beast- so you talked about a lot of things.  Your hobbies, the process of making an ointment or what herbs to crush and mix with something to get the smell of berries.  How you cooked and what it was; you even offered him a loaf of bread; he denied it (which you were glad for because that would have been an expensive sacrifice). 

“I actually live here alone,” you speak aloud from the inside of your house so he could hear you through the open window his head rested next to on the ground outside.  “I’ve lived here all my life practicing medicine and plants. I take care of myself decently well considering I live in the Woodlands.” You paused, mixing some broth with a pot of steamed vegetables and spices you had been boiling. “My village doesn’t exactly like me or my studies all that much, so my life here works out in the long run.”

You wondered if he found your babbling annoying since he was just stuck listening to you ramble on about whatever came to mind to keep him somewhat entertained. Spilling your life story wasn’t a thrilling tale, but it was a silence filler. You figured he didn’t mind as much as you may think since he stuck around.  

When the day was ending, he made a sound of disgruntled groaning that wasn’t exactly a growl, but a sound of attention. He was apparently announcing his departure.  You waved the dragon off through the open window as he left back into the Woodlands and you assumed that this would be the final time you met him. 

You would be wrong. 

Because that following day as the sun was high at just past midday, there he was again. Steadily, he was visiting you often and he became a normal part of your life.  

-x-x-x- 

“Hey, Suga,” you called when the dragon came into view from your window as you read in the morning light.  You had started calling him by the name weeks ago when you caught him sniffing through your window at whatever you were baking at the time and accidentally sucked a bag of sugar up his nostril.  You would have called him Sugar, but he just growled at the soft sounding name, so removing the R was the best deal you could cut him.  He didn’t indicate what his name actually was, but you couldn’t just keep calling him ‘dragon’ or ‘wyvern’.  

You had some decency. 

You shut your book, setting it in the open window as you got up and made your way out.  The leg that had been injured weeks ago had healed like it wasn’t hurt in the first place.  No scar left behind and no scale left tarnished- it pleased you in all honesty. 

Walking to him, he lowered his head to the ground with a small sigh through his nostrils as you brought you hand to run along the scales of his nose and head.  It was like having a giant lizard fawn over your touch- or rather that was exactly what it was. 

“Good morning, I haven’t seen you in a few days. Did you have a safe trip?” You asked as he just let out a small swooned dragon sound.  You had gotten good at deciphering what his sounds and noises meant to a certain degree.  

You had noted that every so often he would disappear for days on end and then return- be it a few days to a week or more later.  He would travel to Dragon Country and then return to check and visit with you, or so you highly assumed. You knew that was his country and his home, so it was no shock to you that he went back. The shock was that he kept coming back to your cabin in the Woodlands. 

You had read dragons were loyal, but this was astonishing.  If regular visits with a mighty dragon was your reward for treating and freeing him from a trap, you had no regrets in doing so.  

You stopped your ministrations on his head as you turned to go check off whatever chore you had left to do this morning off your to-do list when you felt his nose push into your back.  Shoving you playfully forwards, you stumbled on your feet as you turned around with a playful smile and lifted brows. 

“Oh you wanna play that way, huh?” You riled as he just huffed steam into your face.  Your hair and dress whipped behind you as you just scoffed and jumped at him.  The dragon shot to it’s legs and winged talons, skillfully dodging your puny, human lunges.  

When you snagged your foot on your dress skirt and was ready to take a tumbling, ungraceful fall to eat dirt, his nose shot under you and caught you before you even made it close to the ground.  Hooking your wasit with his horn, he nudged you back up to your feet as you just laughed at him and stroked his nose once again in gleeful thanks.  

Suga almost purred- if dragon’s could ever.

As you spent your day with your companion, the sky started to tell you that night was coming and Suga’s departure once again was near.  You were out in the yard, sitting on the grass with your basket beside you and all sorts of herbs, a grinding stone and jars and jugs to mix and create with.  Suga lay behind you, curled around you like a protective wall, lazing away silently, but not sleeping.  Just relaxed.  

“Will you be back tomorrow?” You asked as you sprinkled some flower petals into a bottle of clear oil. He whined- a signal for no.  “Going back to Dragon Country already, huh?” He huffed in agreeance as you chuckled.  He sounded so sulky.  “Will you be gone for a while this time?” He made no noise, but his head moved to affirm a yes.  Another handful of quiet, dragonless days were in your future it seemed. “Well, be safe on your way. Watch out for traps,” you teased as he moved his body back just a bit for you to teeter backward from where you were leaning against him. 

When he left you that night, his nose pressed against your torso as your arms wrapped around it in farewell.  He had only started doing that recently- after his last trip back to Dragon Country in fact.  

You always felt a little bit colder when he left you like that. 

Four days passed and on the morning of the fifth, you had walked out of your house early in the morning with a freshly sown cloak of brick red and an empty basket.  You dreaded going into the village for a great many reasons.  But you simply couldn’t push it off any further and you needed things that only the merchants and shops in town would have.  

It helped that when strangers would come into the woodlands and see your house, they would almost always knock on your door from curiosity and you’d always take any chance to sell something of your creation for a decent amount.  

Locking your cabin door, you started your trip. You sighed. Hopefully, you’d be able to get into town and then get out just as quickly. 

Suga had returned that day as he approached your cabin.  He heard nothing inside and saw no sign of you around.  Peering into our windows, you weren’t inside from what he could tell and he pouted at not seeing you.  He lay at the side of your cabin, his head lay by your front door as he waited for you to come back.  

A few hours passed and his ears picked up on the sound of your footsteps- he had familiarized himself with the sound and weight you put into your steps- as his eyes opened ready to greet you.  However, a growl slipped past his fangs as he saw you come from the dirt trail between the trees that lead further out of the Woodlands. 

You were shocked to see him back so soon as you wiped some sweat off your brow.  Sweat that was mixed with dirt and the smallest dried patch of blood. 

You had forgotten that Suga had never seen you go into and back from your village before, so the growl pulled from his throat made you shiver.  Your forehead had a small cut about the length of your knuckle and your lip had a split in it.  Your dress had grass strains in the knees and up the side of it as specks of dirt spotted your face and neck. 

You walked to your door, setting your basket down with a cloth over it, the items you had gotten covered as you walked to Suga and placed your hand on the horn at the end of his scaled nose.  

“What is it?” You ask, oblivious that it was your current state of disarray that made him fume with unease. He pulled his horn from your palm as he moved to nuzzle his nose into your torso. You stretched your arm to stroke under his eye as you soothed him.  “Suga?” It wasn’t until he refused to move that you realized he was wondering if you were well and then you realized. “Oh,” you breathed, “I’m alright.” 

He finally moved away from you and stared at you.  You moved to pat his horn once before your fingers went under his scaled chin to lazily rub there.  He almost hummed at the actions as you smiled with your split lip.  

“This happens every time I go down to the village. Don’t worry too much, Scaly Hide.” As you soothed him, you weren’t completely aware of just how your injures made his dragon blood boil hotter than usual.  You had been nothing but kind and vulnerable and truthful to him- a dragon- for no other reason than that’s just who you were as a person.  Seeing you all cut up because of others? He found it absolutely preposterous. 

As you rubbed beneath his chin, you started talking again.  Your voice taking on a small wave of emotion he hadn’t heard from you before. 

“I’m almost jealous of you,” you told him.  His barbed tail twitched at your words. “I don’t know what the world of dragons is like, so I can’t say whether or not you understand the scorn of others. The prospect of you not having to deal with other humans though is one to be envious of.” Your eyes had a far off look of sadness that riddled his scaled body with pain. 

He pulled his head from your hand and moved to nudge it behind you. He pushed your body against the giant wall of scales that is his own body as you started laughing at him.  It wasn’t hard to understand an awkward attempt of a dragon wanting to console you. You raised your arms, reaching around what you could as you hugged his neck while his head stayed pushed against your back over your shoulder.  

Suga didn’t understand how humans could do this to others of the same race.  Dragon’s weren’t just comrades in arms in battle, but they were kin.  They were branches of family, dear friends and reliant to each other in a way that didn’t just revolve around war and destruction. Of course, his race wasn’t perfect either with the occasional rouge or traitorous dragon, but those specific turncoats were always taken care of. 

He couldn’t understand why humans hurt you, and he didn’t want to understand why. He just wanted it to stop. 

When you finally stepped away from him and got back into his line of sight in front of him the look on your face made him feel better.  It looked like you were already recovering from all the bad emotions that plagued you earlier.  He blew a small huff of steam into your face playfully as you swatted at his horn. 

“I’ve been curious,” you started, “I read once that dragons have large quantities of magic and even have a second form they can change into.  A human form that is different with each species.  Do you have one?” His chin dipped as he let out a noise of confirmation.  He did have one, though it had been years, maybe even centuries since he last changed into it. He didn’t even remember what it looked like anymore- he had forgotten about it truthfully.  

Your eyes light up in excitement at the discovery.  

“You do! That’s so cool!” Your over-excitement almost startled the poor beast. You let out a small sigh of contentment as you turned back to head inside and put your things away and to wash off the grime of your injuries.  “I kind of want to see what it looks like,” you mutter, unable to realize that your thoughts slipped out in the form of words that were just loud enough for the dragon to hear. 

Suga was quiet as he stood guard outside your home for the rest of the afternoon. The only time you left was when you went down to the small lake nearby and washed up. He was a distance away to keep anything or anyone else from intruding on your privacy.  He seemed tense, but also not- even if it didn’t make sense.  You tried asking him what was wrong with him, but he just nuzzled his head into your chest without a sound.  

When you told him goodnight he left in the same silence he had been sitting in all day.  It took a little longer for you to go to sleep because of your worry. 

The next morning, you woke up and did what you always did.  Same old routine with the label of a different day. Though, when you left your home to go and grab a few pieces of cut up wood for your fireplace, you stopped short.  Outside your door, sleeping against the side of your house on the ground was a man. 

You hadn’t seen this man before in your life and you were shocked speechless as you looked him over.  He was dressed oddly, far different than the men in your village dressed. 

His body was lean and covered in small scars around his chest, as shown from the absences of a shirt.  A long, black cape hung at his back that he used to lounge on instead of the hard, dirt ground as the collar of it was covered in fur that covered his shoulders and brushed against his chin.  His pants were brown and baggy that wrapped around his ankles and displayed his bare feet that were no doubt covered in calluses.  Red gauntlets ran from his wrists to his elbows on both arms that were crossed against his bare chest.  

You were hesitant to wake him up, but this was your cabin and it was early in the morning.  If Suga came by to see another man here, he could get defensive and that was a scenario you really didn’t want to witness. 

You knelt at his side, the door to your cabin still open behind you just in case he was hostile and you had to retreat back inside in a rush.  You reached out and grabbed his shoulder- his skin was hot. You shook him once- nothing.  

“Excuse me?” You squeaked as you shook him again.  He groaned as his head nodded off to the side before his chin dipped and you saw his brows moving underneath the fridge of his black hair. You retracted your hand when you felt his shoulders move up and heard him take in a breath of awakening.  “Sir, are you alright?” 

Lifting his head, his eye were narrow and dazed in sleep as he looked up at you. They were beautiful.  They were dark, black and shining like obsidian jewels.  They were... familiar? You squinted at him as he opened his mouth. 

“Oh,” he lazily breathed out. His voice felt like a breeze of summer wind. “You finally woke up,” he told you as you just started inquisitively at him.  

“Isn’t that my line,” you quipped back.  “Do I,” you hesitated, “have we met before?” He didn’t answer you as he just sat up straighter and raised his hand to your face.  His warm hand ran along your jaw to your lip where he pushed against the scabbed over split in it.  You flinched away from his touch as you backed away from him, your eyes locked onto his without any will power to break the contact. 

“You said you wanted to see what my human form was like,” he point forwardly told you.  You looked him over one more time before returning to his eyes.  So that’s why they looked so familiar. 

“Suga?” You asked with a pitched voice.  

“My name is actually, Yoongi,” he smirked as an unfamiliar heat rose in your cheeks.  

-x-x-x-

Yoongi’s visits continued and he often stayed in his human form around you now. He would waltz into your home with you and even started helping you with chores around the cabin.  He’s taken to splitting your firewood (although he wouldn’t use your hatchet, he’d just rip the logs in half), and would carry things for you when you were moving to and fro. He’d watch you cook and learn if you offered to teach him something. 

You had to admit that having him walking and working around with you as a human instead of a wyvern was a lot more convenient. Plus, this way he was able to have actual conversations with you.  

The season’s started to change and the cool breath of autumn began to creep into the air. You would often wonder if Yoongi would stop coming to visit when the temperature drops.  

“Yoongi?” You called as he sat in the middle of your floor in front of the burning fire.  It was late in the afternoon as you were cooped up inside away from the chilly air.  He turned to look over his shoulder at you over his fur lined cape collar.  

“Hmm?” 

“When winter comes, will you still visit me?” You asked as you took a drink from your warm tea before setting it back down on the table with the book you had been reading before.  “I mean, you’re still technically a reptile in basic regards, so you must not like the cold that much.” 

“It’s true that I don't like the cold,” he said, “I hate it.  It makes my scales rough and then that makes it tough to move around.” You let out a small, nearly silent sigh.  “However, if you get lonely, I’ll still come see you.” You looked back at him as he was staring at you completely serious.  

The conversation died after that, you not having the heart to ask him to keep visiting. You couldn’t ask that of him if he disliked the cold that much.  Surely, you’d be okay without him by your side for a few months, right? Besides, you still had until the first snow to spend with him, autumn had just started after all. 

Another week passed and you had once more traveled into the village for some items you needed that you had run out of.  It was no shock seeing a trip to the village so soon after the last considering you had been feeding and caring for Yoongi when he came to your cabin. Supplies run a lot faster on two figures instead of just one.

Yoongi had been gone the last couple days, so you assumed he’d be popping by anytime now so you went as soon as you could.  To your misfortune, when you returned once again roughed up, Yoongi was sitting in front of your cabin door waiting for you.  You had half a mind to sneak in through your bedroom window and avoid him for a bit before you let him in to avoid him seeing your freshly beat body. 

Though, you spent just enough time in mental turmoil that he had seen you already. 

He jumped to his feet, his face an expression of shock as he ran to meet you half way as you walked to your cabin.  You greeted him with a smile just as you always did.  

“Good-”

“Hush,” he shushed you as he quickly took the basket from your arms and set it on the ground at your feet.  He took your chin between his fingers and started tilting and moving your head around in different angles looking you over.  Your cheeks flushed as he stared intently at you.  You knew it was just an inspection of your wounds, but it still made your heart pound in your chest.  “They hit you again,” he growled.  

“Yoongi, it’s alright.” 

“No,” he seethed, “it is not.” You swore you started to see small wisps of smoke seep from his nose as he breathed steam.  He must be really angry, you though.  “They cannot just keep treating you like this just because you’re you.” The hand that held your chin moved to rest on your cheek before gliding up to your forehead- pushing your hair back as his hand moved to rest on the back of your head.  “Human’s really are cruel,” he whispered.  

You couldn't argue with that. 

“I’m already used to their treatment,” you attempt to sooth. The physical pain may still occur with each lashing, but you had long since grown emotionally distant from them.  They couldn’t break you any further. 

“You shouldn’t be. You should be treated with respect and kindness.” 

“Like how you treat me,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood.  Yoongi paused, his hand coming down to rest on the crook of your neck, his long nails running over your pulse point as his eye softened.  

“No,” he whispered.  “I’m the only one who can treat you this way.” 

“What?” You were confused. He treated you exceedingly well and he wanted other people to treat you better too, but not like him? “That doesn’t make much sense, Yoongi.” 

“It does to me.” 

“Well, then the argument is officially over, huh?” You chuckled as he brought his hand off you and reached for your basket.  He let a smirk grace his lips as he turned and led you back to your cabin so he could help you clean your injuries. 

As he helped treat and dress your wounds and even helped you make the daily meals, he would nit pick about you going into town.  He offered to start going with you, or at least waiting on the edge of the village so he wouldn’t make a fuss in human society with his less than human approach to things, but you denied him.  

He wanted to argue with you, to let him do as he wanted, but you just told him that you usually only went on days he wasn’t with you.  It was never planned, but things just always seemed to fall in that manner.  

In the end, he yielded on the subject; however, before he left that night, he presented you with something.  A flower-sized, brick red scale.  He placed it in your palm before he left you. 

“If something ever happens, you use that scale and call for me. I’ll come flying over as quickly as I can.” You laughed at his over protectiveness.  Dragon Country was miles off from here, so it would take him more than a handful of minutes to get to your cabin depending on where in the world of his kind he was at in the given situation.  You accepted the scale nonetheless, grateful for his tender gesture.  

Everything seemed fine again for time, until Yoongi came to your cabin and saw you prepping to go into the village yet again one morning.  He scowled as he watched you pull your red cloak over your shoulders and grab your basket as you pulled on your boots.  He hid behind the wall of your home as you locked the door and were on your way. 

Yoongi didn’t want you to know he was there following you.  He stayed behind you as you walked the Woodlands trail back to society and the entire way he pouted that you had once again not told him you were going.  

He stood on the outskirts of the village that brought you harm, sitting high up in a treetop to avoid being seen. He knew going into the village after you would get him caught and he knew that if someone even looked at you strangely, he’d probably snap. 

He sat there for a while, just waiting and watching until you finally showed up again, ready to head back home.  His back straightened as he almost smiled seeing you unharmed. He was going to jump down and greet you, fess up that he had followed you and let you scold him as he walked you back home, but before he could even begin moving, he stiffened. 

Knelt on the tree branch he hid behind the brown, red and yellow leaves that hadn’t fallen to the ground and the black of his cape as a group of boys not much older than yourself ran up behind you.  You were just at the tree line of the Woodlands when they had taken your basket from you and shoved you from behind, making you fall to your knees with a cry. 

He was technically in Woodland territory, he had no problem showing himself outside of your village.  

As you rolled onto your back, ready to shove your way to your basket and scurry away just as you had a million times before, something fell from the treetops behind you.  Twisting your body, you only saw a blur shoot past you before one of the three boys was on his ass in the dirt groaning.  

Turning back to your front, your mouth dropped open.  

“Yoongi?!” One boy had helped the other off the ground as the last was squaring up to start a scrap with this random guy who had popped out of the Woodlands.  You wanted to shoot up and tell them to stop it and leave Yoongi alone, but they froze before you could even warn them.  

The three of them swallowed as they started taking small steps backward in retreat.  

Yoongi had tensed his whole body, fingers curled with his claws out.  His face had scales trailing from his cheekbones to his chin as his eyes seeped with complete blackness.  It was like his hair was standing on end as he snarled and raised his lips to bare his fangs at the offenders.  He was daring them to try him.  

Anyone with two eyes, even one eye, could clearly see this man was a dragon and nothing short of a fierce one who didn’t know how to stand down.  Not willing to pick a fight with a being of that caliber and not being properly prepared to boot, the trio turned tail and ran back into the village.  

It was deathly silent as they retreated and Yoongi’s body seemed to relax as you started at his back. His still shoulders went slack as his squared and ready to pounce stance calmed and straightened back out.  His hair settled and the small growls you had heard before disappeared.  

“Uh, Yoongi?” You call softly, not knowing if he was going to whip around and start yelling at you or not.  

He did not.  

He calmly walked to the basket they had taken from you, picking it up and walked back to your side.  He set it down before he grabbed your arms gently and started to pull you off the ground.  Once you stood on your feet, he straightened out your cloak as you brushed off your dress skirt.  

“What are you doing out here?” You asked him, but he didn’t answer you. He just placed his hand on the small of your back, turning you around before he gently pushed you forward to start you off back into the Woodlands and back to your cabin.  

No matter how you tried to talk to him, he never answered the entire trip.  He was completely silent and he didn’t give you any facial ques on what his problem was either.  He stayed quiet, a still canvas  all the way into your cabin where he sat your basket on your table then sat himself in front of your fireplace that wasn’t even lit yet.  It was like the might dragon was pouting.

“Yoongi, please just come over here,” you plead.  You walk behind him as you see his shoulders slump in a silent sigh before he’s standing in front of you again.  He turns and looks down at you and instead of an angry look in his eyes like you were expecting, you see them shine with unshed tears. “Yoongi-” 

He pushes the words from your throat out of you as he wraps his arms around your shoulders and pushes you face into his warm, bare chest.  He lets out a small, shaky breath as his hold tightens around you.  The hand on the back of your head holding you to him felt desperate and sad. You reach around him and snag you hands on the inside of his fur lined cape behind his back. 

“I was worried about you,” he all but whimpers.  “I know I shouldn’t have followed you, but you didn’t tell me that you were going to that village again and I just couldn’t stop myself.  I was so relieved to see you unharmed as you were leaving, but then those scumbags,” he cut himself off with a harsh breath.  “Does that really always happen to you?” 

You nod and give a weak ‘yes’ in reply.  

“No more,” he tells you. “I won’t let it happen anymore. I’ll keep you safe and I’ll protect you from them.  Even when winter comes, I won’t stop visiting you. I’ll keep coming back, I promise.” You wanted to deny him, tell him not to worry about it since he can’t stand the cold.  But, you felt selfish and you wanted him to keep coming back.  You wanted him to dote on you and to keep you safe like he says. 

“I’ll be relying on you then,” was all you told him. When the moment is past, you pull away from his warm chest to look up at him with a playful grin. “You’re pretty pushy when it comes to my safety, it’s almost cute.” 

He shoves you at your jest as he tells you to sit down and go unpack your things.  He plops himself back in front of the fireplace, huffing a ball of fire to get it going in a hurry.  You weren’t sure if it was the light from the fire or not that painted his cheeks pink. 

-x-x-x-

You went without village harm for a month now.  Just as he said, Yoongi was at your side at least every other day instead of a few days away at a time.  He’d always ask if you were alright or anyone had given you any trouble. He knew when you were lying, he had gotten good at telling apart your quirks, so when you told him you were alright he was always relieved. 

The weather kept getting colder and you kept getting more concerned about Yoongi’s choice to go against the cold to come see you as often as possible.  You always thought about how to tell him to not come after the first winter snow to help his overall health; you just had to figure out a way to phrase it so that he’d actually listen. 

It was one of those nights where you hadn’t gotten to sleep very early with your thoughts, and you had just drifted to sleep.  You were somewhere between unconscious, yet aware as you briefly heard something in the distance.  You weren’t awake enough to care and you weren’t aware enough to think it was something other than the nighttime animals. 

A handful of minutes pass when you’re suddenly ripped from your sleep just as you were equally ripped from your bed.  A grip on the back of your nightdress yanked you from your side sleeping position and pulled the fabric against your neck as you choked out a surprised gasp. 

You kicked your legs in panic, your blanket hitting the floor of your room as you were pulled off your mattress and onto the floor.  Hands grasped your biceps and began to drag you backward. You finally found your voice in the form of small screams and protests. You stumbled from the balls of your feet to your heels as you were pulled backward through your cabin before you were through the front door and on the ground. 

Laying in the dirt and covered in goosebumps from the cold night air, you rolled to your back and propped yourself up with your elbows to see who just evicted you from your home.  You shouldn’t have been shocked to see a band of men from the village, yet you were. You instantly started trying to scoot backward on your elbows and heels.

They were covered in furs and boots with torches in hand to light their way through the darkness.  You looked at them in fear and confusion.  What were they doing this far from the village and why were they here at all? 

“What are you doing?!” You scream, your heels kicked into the dirt as your nails dig into the earth trying to back you away from one oncoming man, a blond one. You squirmed as one of his feet kicked at your wrist and pushed your back to the ground as he grabbed you by the collar of your nightdress.  You whined, grabbing his wrist as you grimaced with squeezed shut eyes.  

“You witch,” he accused as you peeked open your eyes. “We’ve let you live close to us, but you’ve gone and made a pact with a demon- a dragon!” Your eyes widened.  Is this because Yoongi just popped out of nowhere a month ago when he followed you? 

“You’re wrong!” You denied.  You had no pact with him.  He was just- you paused mentally. Was Yoongi a friend to you? You had been unconsciously thinking that for several weeks, but saying that out loud and admitting it to yourself as well as someone else- friendship didn’t feel like it did it justice.  Was the connection you had with the dragon you saved from that trap- the same dragon who snarled in your face and decided not to kill you all those weeks ago- really just a friend?  You swallowed.  

Your breath lurched in your throat when the grip of your collar was released in turn for the hand to now encase around your throat fully.  You gagged for a moment as the blond’s nails burned against your skin.  

“Ransack the place!” The man who held your throat shouted over his shoulder.  The two other men with him ran into your cabin and your squeezed shut eyes opened.  You shoved the man’s hand off you, your neck burning as you pushed against his chest.  He fell on the dirt as he groaned. 

“Don’t! Leave my cabin alone!” You cried as you scurried to your feet.  You didn’t get far before your ankle was grabbed and your leg yanked back.  You tumbled ungracefully onto your chest, your nightdress riding up your legs and bum as you felt a weight on your back.  The blond was sitting on you as you kicked.  He held one of your arms behind your back and his other hand pushed your cheek into the dirt, holding your head down.  “Stop it!” You cried into the earth as you heard sounds of destruction in your home.

Glass being thrown to the ground and broken, your shelves being pulled from the wall.  You heard doors of cabinets opening and slamming shut after everything was pulled from them.  The distant sounds of mess told you they were evening throwing things around in your room.  You weren’t sure what they were looking for- evidence? But for what? Your connection with Yoongi to use against you?

“Hey!” One called from inside.  “I found something!”  Footsteps came back outside and stopped above your head.  You were yanked up to sit on your knees- nightdress dirty and covered in small tears and frays of fabric- as the blond behind you snagged a hand in your hair pulling your head to look up.  You winced as your eyes instinctively shut in pain before your chin was grabbed in a new hand.  

A man stood in front of you, brown hair and accusatory eyes. In front of you, he dangled the scale of Yoongi’s he had given you that you had placed inside of a glass locket to keep it safe. You jolted in the blond’s grip, ripping your chin from the brunettes touch. 

“Don’t touch that!” You screamed. The blond restrained you tighter.  “Stop! That hurts!”  You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. 

You weren’t sure how long those men kept you outside your home as they continued to trash it. You were less sure how long you were out in the cold, pinned to the ground and jerked around like a toddlers ragdoll.  

Stomps to your legs to keep you from crawling or getting up and away.  Jabs to the stomach to subdue you just long enough to restraining you as you tried to get your breath back.  Knocks to the head to try and knock you out as you kept on fighting back.  The cold was starting to get to you, your fingers and toes going numb.  Scraps on your knees and elbows from the cold, autumn chilled dirt.  

You were on your back on the ground, the same blond over your, pushing your face down as your arms were trapped under his knees that pinned you on either side.  

You were close to giving up.  You were going to lose your home- you expected them to set it on fire- and you were going to no doubt end up losing your life if this kept up.  Would they take you back to the village and execute you?  Tears trailed down the side of your face as you chewed on your lip. 

This wasn’t fair.  

“Yoongi,” you whimpered as your palms pushed into the earth, the dirt and rocks pushing into your skin just painful enough to keep you conscious.  

It seemed instantaneous to you. It felt like a whirlwind just formed at the center of your small world as the gusts of wind blew around you.  The man above you was blown off as he rolled in the dirt away from your tired, weak, and beaten body.  Whimpers of terror rang in your ears from the other men as growling accompanied those whimpers. 

Stomping and rushes of heat surrounded you with ignited sparks in the night sky.  You managed to push yourself over to weakly roll onto your side and twist onto your stomach to look up at exactly what was happening.  You didn’t see anything in front of you other than your cabin and the three men all on the ground cowering from the sight of something. 

Your dazed eyes narrowed before you heard another growl and the feeling of something massive standing over you.  Coming to a stomping halt at either side of you with distance to spare and to not make you feel suffocated, your eyes widened.  You felt more awake now than the rest of the evening.  

Twisting to look up, you were met with the mighty, giant form of the wyvern you had freed from the metal trap of men.  Snarling with bared fangs and small puffs of fire on his tongue, Yoongi stood over you protectively.  

Tears ran down your shocked face without your control at seeing him really showing up at your side when you truly, desperately needed him with you. You felt weak, but before your body could slump onto the ground, something grabbed you.  

Another new body had looped their arms under yours to keep your chest off the ground and held you to them.  You didn't recognize this person as you looked up at them.  Another man, but this seemed far more mystic.  

Snow white eyes with no iris or pupils to sit in their seas of white.  Illuminated scales of white shone on their cheeks and their ears were pointed and finned.  Hair as silver as the moon and skin as tanned as cooper.  Was this another dragon?  You couldn’t tell anymore; all you knew was that you felt safe in this person’s arms with Yoongi above you. 

You slumped against them, your consciousness finally starting to fade on you with the adrenaline running low now that you felt a sense of safety.  You couldn’t lose it yet, however; you had to calm Yoongi down.  The men had stopped their attack in fear, so Yoongi didn’t need to instigate further. 

“Yoongi,” you called weakly against the second dragon’s chest.  “Don’t,” you pleaded.  There was a small hush before the wind picked up and the stomping that was present before was replaced with harsh footsteps. Yoongi had reverted back to human form as he ran at the blond man who had previously held you down. 

Yoongi’s long claws tore and pierced through the shirt fabric of the blond’s collar as he brought him up to his nose, snarling down at him.  His fists shook in rage as his body trembled with restraint in your presence.  Had you not been there, he was certain he would have killed all three of them without hesitation. 

He picked the blond off the ground just enough to make his toes leave the grass as he threw him at the other two. He huffed, steam blowing out of his nose as his face remained angry. 

“You ever come back here and I, as Y/n’s personal dragon, will tear you apart,” he threatened.  “Now, leave!” He roared as the three men scrambled embarrassingly to their feet and down the trail back to whatever hole they crawled out of. 

Yoongi huffed, breathless as he quickly heard your whimpers behind him.  He spun around, rushing back to your side as he knelt on the ground beside you and took you from the other dragon’s grasp.  He ran the back of his fingers along your cheek as you saw him.  His calm, worried face brought you a sense of peace as you knew the trouble had left.  

“Rest,” he whispered as you finally lost yourself to the unconsciousness that had been choking you around the throat.  

-x-x-x-

You groaned slightly as your eyes cracked open. You were on your back as your lidded eyes were blurred staring up at the ceiling of your room.  You were in a haze as you looked into nowhere.  Thoughts were muddled in your head as you were aware of nothing for a handful of minutes, still high from sleep and drowsiness.  

The sun shone through your open window as you heard the birds outside sing.  It was bright- far brighter than you were used to waking up to.  

It all came back to you all at once like a punch to the jaw.  Memories of being dragged out of your bed, your home, to outside and pummeled until you were weak in the dirt as your home was broken into and wrecked.  

Your arms shot up from under your blanket as they threw the covers off and you sat up straight as a rob.  You sucked in a deep breath that hitched in your throat from the sudden movement that clouded you with a wave of dizziness.  

Your palm moved to push into your forehead as your eyes squeezed shut and you hissed.  Cracking them open, you felt something burn into your side like someone staring at you.  Looking beside your bed, you weren’t wrong.  

Sat on a stool beside your bedroom door was that same unfamiliar dragon with snow white eyes from the night before. You stared back at the unmoving dragon.  Was he… sleeping?  His eyes were open, but his arms that were crossed didn’t even twitch and his body was still as a corpse.  He sat straight up and showed no signs of movement.  

Did some dragon’s sleep with their eyes open? Yoongi didn’t, but maybe other breeds did. 

“It is a relief to see you’ve awakened,” he suddenly spoke.  You squeaked in shock, not expecting him to do- much less say- anything. “It has been a handful of hours since you lost consciousness.”

You looked away from him as you looked down at your lap.  You scrunch your blanket in your palms, the same palms that you were finally starting to feel the stinging sensation of when you were thrown to the dirt.  The small cuts and scrapes on your knees and legs and arms all started to tingle with an indescribably unpleasant feeling.  

“So, that wasn’t just a nightmare after all,” you sulked to yourself.  

“It seems that Sire holds a great deal of worry about your condition.” 

Your brows drew close together in confusion.  

“Excuse me?” You asked, confusion painting around your eyes.  This dragon with no expression and no irises with the pure white eyes just stared at you. “Sire? Who are you talking about? No,” you cut yourself off, shaking your head. “Who are you?” You re-ask, wanting to know this stranger dragon first.  He was just sitting in your room watching over you, you figured an introduction wasn’t out of the question. 

The dragon brought a webbed hand up to their chest, lowering their head to you in a small bow.  You recoiled at such an action.  No one had bowed to you before in your life- that was reserved for royals and people of importance. Not someone like you, a Woodlands hermit. The action made a blush fan across your cheeks in embarrassment. 

“I am Navia. I work under Sire as the leader of the Dragon Guard of His Majesties palace.  I apologize for not introducing myself earlier. It is a pleasure, My Lady.” His voice was smooth like the surface of a peaceful lake surrounded by nature.  His usage of honorifics only made the embarrassing red cheeks of yours darken. 

“Y-you don’t need to address me like that!” You sputtered as you twisted on your bed to slide your legs out of your covers and hang them over the bedside.  “Just Y/n, is fine. I don’t need any titles,” your voice wavered in embarrassment as the white eyes of Navia returned to you. 

“I do not know if I will be able to address you so casually. It may displease him.” 

“You keep mentioning someone; Sire? Who is that exactly?” Navia never got a chance to answer when their was three knocks on your bedroom door before it was opened.  The redness in your cheeks was broken and a smile pulled on your lips on seeing Yoongi in your doorway.  “Yoongi!” You happily called as he quickly made his way to your bed, kneeling in front of you taking your hands into his own. 

“How long have you been awake? Are you in pain?” 

“I haven’t been up long, I was just talking to Navia and introducing ourselves. I don’t feel particularly good, but I don’t feel particularly bad either. Though, I feel better than I did if that’s anything to be accounted for.”

Yoongi’s eyes softened at your smile. You talked so easily and so soon after you were attacked so brutally.  He wondered where you found the strength to do so.  If he was in your position he’d be a pot of boiling rage, but he didn’t sense anything like that from you.  Yet, instead he could see the sorrow behind your eyes. 

“Navia,” he spoke as the dragon behind him stood at the call of his name. “Give us a moment,” Yoongi’s voice was stern with instruction. 

“As you wish, Sire.” You looked at Navia as he left. You looked back down to Yoongi who was already looking at you as if you were the only thing he wanted to look at for the remainder of his life.  

“Sire? So, he’s been talking about you?” You quirked your brow as Yoongi’s hand left yours and moved to cup around your cheek.  “Yoongi?” 

“There is a lot I haven’t told you and there are a lot of things we need to talk about. I didn't mean to lie- to keep it from you, but I just never had the chance to bring it up. Things about me I’ve kept from you.” You remained silent as he spoke no more.  You both sat in silence for a while as you gathered your bearing.  

Yoongi had taken to tending to you.  You showed him once how to properly wrap bandages around wounds, and so he did.  He wrapped any wound that seemed painful (which was many to his eyes) before he was helping you off your bed. 

“Yoongi, I’m not so hurt I can’t walk myself,” you chuckled as he wrapped his arm around your back to support you.  One of your arms clutched at the cape behind him as the other supported your balance on his chest.  He held you to his side as he was careful not to rush his steps and trip you up. 

“Still, you’re in no condition to be completely independent right now. Allow me to help you.” You almost scoffed at his aid as if you weren’t able to handle yourself, but you did appreciate it- especially when he didn’t need to offer such kindness.  

As he helped you out of your room, you were shocked to see not a trashed cabin like you expected, but it was almost completely clean aside from the broken cabinet doors that sat against the wall in a pile.  Whatever would have been broken was picked up and things were on the counter and on the table out of the way and where they belonged.  A fire was even lit in the hearth of the fireplace.  

You looked up to Yoongi. Did he clean it up? He helped you to the table where he sat you down on the chair by the window where you would normally drink something warm.  You felt a little bad you hadn’t set out a plate of feed for the birds and critters today- but allowed yourself a pass considering your situation. 

Navia was sitting by the fireplace as he watched the two of you.  Yoongi moved to sit on the table’s edge- as unmanneristic as it was, it somehow suited him.  He was in front of you against the wooden table, his fingers brushing along your cheek that had a patch over it to cover your cuts. 

“Where would you like me to start, Scale?” He asked you. Your face deepened when he addressed you like that.  Was that his form of a nickname? You shook the thought away as you opened your mouth. 

“My cabin, I guess?” You realize you didn’t give him much of a specific answer. “I mean, I was expecting it to be a nightmare, but it’s so clean?” 

“That is because I cleaned it up,” he softly told you with a small smile.  So, you were right.  “The times I have been here, I was familiar with the placements of most of your belongings.  Others I admit I guessed, but I couldn’t leave it like it was.  You have enough to worry about.” 

“Well, thank you for that,” you graciously tell him.  

“It was nothing.” You spent a good portion of that day talking to Yoongi where you were.  If you wanted to get up and move to take a break from the flood of answers to any question you had, he would help.  Navia would walk around and do small chores for you if you were kind enough to ask- or have Yoongi tell him to. The tanned dragon was awfully obedient, yet kind to a fault it seemed. 

The shortened days of winter were showing as the sky started to progressively darken.  You watched it from the window of the cabin you had been in all day.  It had been a long time since you spent all your time inside without much of anything to do. It was relaxing even if under unpleasant circumstances.  

Yoongi had handed you a mug of something warm for your throat as you thanked him and took small, cautious sips due to its heat.  Yoongi watched you as you watched outside, the occasional chuckles slipping past your lips when you saw birds or squirrels chase each other around. 

“Y/n,” Yoongi called as Navia had taken his place back by the fireplace.  He was, unsurprisingly, not fond of the cold so he had stuck to the fireplace like glue as often as he could. “Do you want to leave this cabin?” 

His question caught you off guard.  You lowered your mug to the table top as you looked at him. 

“What?” 

Yoongi’s mouth was pressed into a thin line as his eyes were narrowed in a veil of anxiousness.  In truth he didn’t want you to live here anymore.  What happened the night before could very well happen again and what if he didn’t get to you in time next time? What if next time they drag you off or even kill you? He couldn’t handle that.  He didn’t even want to think about it. 

“If I left,” you chuckled bitterly as you looked back outside, “where would I go? I can’t just live in a cave or in trees.” 

“You could come back with me.” There was silence in the cabin’s front room.  The sound of the fire crackling and the small sounds from outside your walls.  “Come back with me to Dragon Country and live there.” 

“That’s impossible,” you told him. “I am no dragon. How could I live there?” You half expected Navia from behind to slip into the conversation and throw in his opinion on the matter.  You, a human leaving the Woodlands and running off to live in Dragon Country? There was no way, it was preposterous. “Why take me back anyways?” 

“Dragon’s are only able to choose one being to become absolutely loyal to without fault in their lives.  We live for years, decades, centuries.  The oldest of dragon’s can live for hundreds of human lifetimes, so we are especially picky when it comes to our choice.”

“What does that have to do with me?” You asked. 

“I said so before, I am your dragon.” That’s right. You did remember him saying that in his rage the night before.  Something about being your personal dragon and threatening the men not to try another attack stunt again. 

“So, then-”

“I chose you,” he admitted. You felt your air leave you in silent waves.  “Out of all things I’ve met of my years alive, you were the first to treat me kindly without expecting anything in return.  You were my first in many things that warmed my being. That is why I want you to come back with me.” 

You opened your mouth then shut it again before you shook your head, trying to process his words.  You took a shaky breath and looked back to him again. 

“Say I agreed, isn’t it too dangerous? I mean, you might be with me, sure, but I’m still just a human woman. What could I possibly do so you wouldn’t have to protect me all the time? Wouldn’t I just be a constant risk?” 

“That would not be the case,” he told you sternly. “I would see to it that every dragon be made aware of who you are. Once they know, they wouldn’t dare lay a talon on you unless they’re turncoats.” Yoongi sounded so serious, you almost believed him. “They would treat you better than these humans ever have,” he promised. 

“How are you so sure?” You narrowed your eyes at him, challenging his word.  He sure sounded high and mighty for proposing something that sounded so risky. 

“Because I’m your dragon,” he repeated.  You almost groaned and rolled your eyes.  You felt like you were running in circles with him. 

“What does that have to do with anything?” So what? You get to boss around and rely on a dragon. As legitimately remarkable as that is, you didn’t seem to connect that to your safety in his country. 

“Because my Master in question- you- would be commanding the dragon in charge of Dragon Country.” There was a beat of silence. 

What. 

“So, you’re claiming to be what? The King of Dragon Country? Am I just supposed to believe that?” 

“Yes, you are.” He told you with a straight face.  There was no sign of lying or hesitation. He seemed so sure and serious of himself that you were questioning yourself of his truth.  

“But that’s-”

“If I may,” Navia spoke, cutting you off from behind you as Yoongi shot him a glare for interrupting you.  You turned to look at the white-eyed dragon as his tanned skin shone with the fire’s casted light. “It’s wise to know that the King detests liars and lies in general.” 

Your eyes widened as you whipped your head back to Yoongi who was still shooting the other dragon a look before he returned his sights back to you.  

“Oh my Gods, you’re serious.” 

The night concluded a long, well-rounded talk about just who Yoongi really was.  Finding out he was a king was one thing, but it was harder to understand that you were now in charge and in command of that king.  You felt simultaneously all powerful and powerless. 

In the end, you did agree to go back with him; however, under one condition. 

-x-x-x-

You sat at your desk in your room, scribbling line after line of ink on a piece of parchment.  It had been a week since your ‘unfortunate situation’ as you called it and you were healing well.  You fixed your cabin the best you could and moving around like normal again was easier by the day.  You could already almost chop firewood again- not that you actually were. You had no reason to stock up anymore.

On your bed was a bag.  One that was large and had the flap open to show the contents inside.  A few folded dresses and one of your leather corsets that wasn’t completely ruined.  Jars and bottles of salves, potions, crushed herbs, flowers, and sacks of roots and leaves.  Even your favorite cup and a knowledgeable book about medicine.  All neatly packed. 

You stretched as you leaned back in your chair and looked out the window to your room.  You smiled as a bittersweet feeling fluttered in your stomach.  

You looked down at the letter you had just finished as you folded it up and placed it inside of an envelope before writing the name of to whom it would be addressed on the front.  

Your windows rattled with a gust of wind outside. You smiled as you got up from your desk and grabbed your bag.  You tossed the flap of ti over the bag, the large button in the flap of it looping through a latch to close it securely.  You threw the long strap over your shoulder as you grabbed the letter from your desk and opened your bedroom door. 

You stopped, turning to look at the room once more.  It was clean, bed made and everything neat and tidy. You smiled sadly at your space before you said goodbye to it.  You felt silly saying farewell to a room. 

When you walked into the main room, Yoongi had already let himself in.  He smiled at you when he saw  you.  Just as you had asked him a week ago, he had left you alone for the last 7 days. That was your condition, even if he grumbled about it.  You wanted one last week on your own in your lifelong home- that was all. 

He walked to you and grabbed your arm gently before bending to softly push his lips against his cheek.  You jolted as you covered your skin with your hand. 

“What was that for?” You asked, flushed. 

“Simply, because.” 

“That is not an answer,” you scowled.  “Did Navia come with you?” You asked peering around his back to look.

“Of course he didn’t.  I don’t need an escort.” 

“Of course you don’t,” you giggle. You walked around your cabin, running your fingers over the surface of your counters, your fireplace’s bricks, your dining table and around the window frames.  You took everything into your memory even though this was the only home you ever had. Maybe that was why you felt like crying. 

“Are you unwell?” Yoongi asked, coming up behind you and placing his hands on your shoulders.  He could see how hard this was for you even without you looking at him directly.  He knew this was his selfish wish, but if you really wanted to stay he wouldn’t drag you away.  

“I feel like I'm homesick, but I haven’t even left yet,” you chuckle as your eyes stung.  One of Yoongi’s hands moved to rest on your head as he pushed his cheek against the top of his hand to lean against your head.  

“It will be alright,” he soothed.  

“I know,” you chocked.

You spent a little while longer in your lifelong home before you felt like you were finally as ready as you’d ever be to leave.  You feared if you stayed too much longer you’d root into your floorboard and then you’d never move again. As you walked out of the house, you took the key that hung on the inside of the door frame and took it out with you.  You didn’t lock the cabin door, instead you placed the key on the outside doorknob. 

This cabin would be welcoming to anyone who needed it, that was what the key hanging outside the space signified.  

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Yoongi asked for the umpteenth time, earning him an eye roll from you. 

“Yes, now take me away or else I’ll start ugly crying.” He chuckled before he was walking with you out of the Woodlands and when you reached the edge of the lands, he transformed into his wyvern form.  You climbed onto his neck just behind his head so you could clutch onto his horns (or his ears, whichever worked best with your grip) before he was flying off with you completely.  

Leaving that cabin, the humans and one single letter on the dining table addressed to ‘Villagers’ behind for good.  

-x-x-x-

“Father! Look, is this what you were talking about?” A small child cheered as he ran through the Woodlands and came across a small cabin that was covered in overgrowth.  The wood had been overrun with vines and moss. Small tree saplings sprung from the wood above on the roof and weeds overtook the ground that was once all dirt.  The trunk that had once been used to chop wood years and years ago had a sapling of a new tree ready to grow in the next hundred years. 

Nests of birds, holes and burrows of moles and squirrels littered the area. 

The child ran around the perimeter of the cabin, eyeing it up and down as small plumes of red smoke puffed through their nostrils in excitement.  

“I’ve never seen a human house before!” 

“Juilius, come back to me before you trip or get caught in a vine.” 

The child trotted back to his father who had come to the Woodlands simply to show his son what the home of a human looked like.  Although, times have changed and this is certainly not how humans lived anymore.  This cabin was long forgotten to time and nature had long since reclaimed it. 

The visit was short and sweet to a degree as the child was soon ushered to be ready to leave.  “Your mother wants you home at a reasonable time. We can’t keep her waiting.” 

“I’m coming,” the child cheered as he started leaving the Woodlands with his father’s hand in his own. “Will I get to fly part of the way back this time? I swear I can!” 

“Alright, you can until we hit the first mountain peak; but don’t tell your mother.”

“I won’t!” He promised.  

Landing peacefully in Dragon Country and arriving safely at the palace, the child giggled happily to himself on how well he was able to fly on his own and how his wings were getting stronger day by day.  

“Yes, but you still can’t retract your scales yet, now can you?” His father teased.  Juilius pouted as his brick red scales refused to fade in his human form.  

“Well,” a voice called to them in a happy tone. “You look just like your father when you pout like that with your scales out.” 

“Mother!” Juilius cheered as he ran to his mother’s arm, clinging to her as he was picked up and nuzzled into her neck.  “Father took me to the Woodlands today. He said that there was a cabin in the woods where you used to live, so he let me see it!” 

You blinked down at your blush-cheeked scaled child. “Oh did he? I hope he didn’t let you fly at that dangerous height.” 

“Nope!” The child grinned as innocent as can be- keeping his promise to his father in the small little white lie. 

“You always assume the worst of me. Don’t you, Scale?” Yoongi teased as he came to your side with your child on your chest as his legs kicked playfully on either side of your hips.  He was young, only a decade old. He was still a hatchling when it came right down to dragon ages. 

“I wouldn’t go that far.” 

“Mother, can you tell me about the humans?” 

“You’re always so curious about them. Why do you want to know, Hatchling?” 

“Well, you used to be one right? Father said you only got your scales and horns when you came here.” 

“Well, then that is going to be a long story. It’s only right if your father helps tell part of it too. It is his fault I became a dragon in the first place,” you looked at Yoongi as he cleared his throat. “Isn’t that right, Your Majesty.” 

“I really don’t know what you could be referring to,” he sheepishly retorted, looking away.  As Juilius tried annoying the answer out of his father, he just shushed him. “I’ll tell you when you’re older.” 

“That’s not fair,” the child pouted. 

“My Lady,” your attention was called from Navia who had finally tracked you down. His white eyes glowing down the halls like nighttime fireflies as he approached.  “A new hatchling was born in the valley this morning and it’s mother asked if you would be gracious enough to name them.”

Your eyes shined. “I’d love to,” you said as you set Juilius down and kissed his forehead.  You moved to kiss Yoongi’s cheek as you allowed Navia to escort you away. The dragon child took his father’s hand.  

“So, what mother said about how she became a dragon; why do I need to wait until I grow up to know? Is it some kind of big dragon secret?” Yoongi’s face flushed as he cleared his throat again and was soon leading his son off somewhere else to clean up after his day out. 

“I already told you, not until you’re older.” 

Who knew that the exchanging of the blood and saliva of the king of dragons was able to gradually change humans into dragons? Yoongi certainly never knew until one morning you woke up with scales dusting your cheeks after a rather specific night.

To which would soon be the outcome of the pestering royal child, Juilius. 

-END-

[deadpuppetboi]

Oh, I’ve got PLENTY!!! So, in no particular order, these are the things that are stuck in my brain and won't get out for the life of me.

Doctor Who

More specifically The Toymaker. Ever since watching the 60th anniversary starring The Toymaker as the main villain AFTER watching a TikTok edit of him (shocking, I know). And down I went in a rabbit hole of not only The Toymaker but the series itself. Like The Toymaker has a sister??? The Toymaker was a puppet once??? HE WAS PLAYED BY MICHAEL GOUGH??? THE MAN WHO PLAYED ALFRED IN THE BATMAN MOVIES??? I’m in love! I mean, he’s a horrifying God-like character with no real sense of compassion and/or empathy that can turn me into a doll wearing a God-awful dress. But his whole concept is interesting so he gets a pass.

Outlast Series

There is so much to say about the Outlast series, as it has had a profound impact on me not just from a horror perspective, but also from a storytelling perspective. Sure, complain about the continuities, the excessive gore, and the fact Red Barrels won't give us any clarification for an Outlast 3 but that's beside the point. I love this series. I love the settings. I love the characters. I love how it shows the depressing reality of a company such as Murkoff using very obviously mentally ill men and women to conduct their sick and depraved experiments. It's just so interesting and I want MORE and I’m waiting for every update on Outlast Trials so that I can fixate on it and figure out what's going to happen next. I NEED to know more and I NEED to know what's going to happen next!

Puppet!Garrett

There’s so much to look into regarding the concept of a four-year-old child dying a brutal death at the hands of a cruel man who then indirectly transferred his soul onto a Puppet. A doll, a marionette, a form not fit for a child, much less a four-year-old who’s probably lost and confused about why he didn't go to Heaven as his Grandma did way back when. Why was he stuck? Why was he in this. . .’thing?’ Who knows how long he's been stuck like that, painstakingly learning how to walk and talk in a body not of his own. Too many times trying to escape only to be dragged back in by employees complaining about how much higher their hours had become. But then the children came along. They were just like him. Lost and confused, their innocent lives were taken away too quickly and stuck in a limbo of doubt and constant confusion. He helped them. He helped him when no one else helped him. He gave them all gifts, gifts of life, a power he didn't even know he had but used in the heat of a moment to save them, to help them. He carried them in his arms and protected them from harm even when it seemed impossible, Garrett did it. He told them stories, played endless games, and comforted them all by listening to their cries of missing their past lives. And he wouldn't regret a single thing. Those were his kids, his best friends, and he’d do everything in his power to make sure they’d all get their Happiest Day.

Brainrot check list

list of the things that are currently rotting my brain :3

tag ur mutuals to see what’s rotting their brains >:3

@ranboothesillyartist @raccoon-in-a-dumpster @sotogalmo @maecraft @spideygal @spydrrr @beansbaskst @seagull-dustin @i-like-cats-and-stars49 @ascendeddd @astertheabbs @pansexualcake9 @deadpuppetboi @kaycode1999 @sk3llyr4yr4t

securitywaiter

fucking Mike x Ness crack ship form the FNAF movie that has wiggled its way into my head

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Puppet!Garrett

The angst and pain of this has forced itself into my head and it now lives rent free

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

shellshocked

Another crack ship that has found its way into my mind. Using its fluff and angst to stay (the ship being Mikey x Miles 🤭) (I may be cringe but I am free)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

void!Penny

this TAWOG au is just so.. FUCKIng……HrdFfJbBjnJnhH I can’t (Void!penny my beloved)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zombie!Ghost

I love all the angst fanfics that sprouted from this not a fan of all the smut but. . . you win some you lose some

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

: )

t h e b r a i n r o t s h a l c o n s u m e

m e

[one-sidedconversations]

Dear David,

Last week I found myself on a road trip with a boy. I didn’t want to go with this strange work colleague. A long drive, narrow country lanes, flooding rains, middle of nowhere small roadside motel, no other guests, no food, not even vending machines. Nothing to eat since breakfast. and now evening, darkening skies. When he suggested driving back through the flood to the nearest town for dinner, I almost said no and then I said yes. And somewhere between the motel and the country pub something shifted and we laughed genuinely together at the same time and it felt like I’d known him a very long time. And we ran from the car to the pub and we were soaked and we ordered wine and cocktails and food and the conversation flowed and he told me his story and I listened and he reminded me so much of you it was like I’d stepped through time to be sitting with you, you in your 20s, younger you, you before illness and you before mistakes, and you before me with your whole life before you. and you scared and anxious and unsure and kind and whip smart and gentle and lovely in every way. And we went across the road to the supermarket and bought more to drink and snacks and we drove back to that empty motel and stayed up all night talking about the void that is death and the void that is sadness and the mechanics of a body shutting down and the peace and love in that room and I told him do not be afraid and I gave him all the stories that I wish someone had given you at his age and I was not sad, it was such a joy to be speaking with you (not you, someone like you) again, and it felt like a gift to be able to tell him everything you/he needed to hear and I felt outside of my body, through the portal and down the rabbit hole. And somewhere in all that, because those conversations, those nights do not happen without an exchange, without a mutual rush of words, I told him fragments of my story and he scrolled through my phone and read text messages between me and not you and he shook his head and laughed and told me to be myself, to tell the truth and when the phone rang he made me answer the call and I stood in the pouring rain and yelled into the phone and I told the truth and it went terribly and we laughed and he told me that it wasn’t the end and he told me that it was the beginning and it turned out, the next morning, on our way to the sea where he took me because our reason for being in the country evaporated and he knew I wanted to go and we had hours to kill and because why not, my phone lit up and he was right it was a beginning of sorts and I thought how funny that a boy that reminded me so very much of you, led me to a beginning, to an honesty, to the me that I thought you and I had together murdered, to the me that I’d thought died during you and with you and to the me that wanted and said and felt, to the me that I barely remembered, to the me I found again on that rainy beach like a crumpled up $50 note in the pocket of my jeans at the end of summer. How funny that a boy that reminded me so much of you reminded me of the me before you. All the selves we kill along the way. 

Nothing is lost on me. I see banjos everywhere.

[taehyungsgrowl]

What about Boxer!Duncan getting seriously hurt?? And Reader being worried about him while he's in the hospital?

oooh... something angsty for my baby :(

also i apologize that im not writing full length one shots/blurbs for the boxer concepts right now! gonna try to finish the tribes of eden before i take on something else!

buuuuut i do hope youre all enjoying my small ramblings (screaming) about them in the mean time!

Every time Duncan stepped foot in the ring, whether it was just for practice or another million dollar fight - Y/N's heart pounded with cortisol.

She knew it was part of the gig - fiancee of light-weight champion Duncan Shepherd - he always ran the risk of serious injury.

He'd been lucky enough to not been harmed in a pressing manner, but tonight, when the back of his head hit the ground at full speed, Y/N, and the rest of the stadium fell silent for a moment that felt like an entirety.

Her whole world stopped as she watched from the stands. The referee yelled for a medic when he realized Duncan was unresponsive.

Y/N heard her friends voice, a thousand miles away even though she was standing right next to her. Muffled. Far. Y/N wasn't there. She was frozen and couldn't tear her eyes away from the medics who were lifting Duncan on to the stretcher.

She barely registered as security shuffled her through the crowd - hundreds of patrons standing in respect as they watched her being taken back, following on the medical teams heels.

Once she was close enough to actually see Duncan, she snapped out of her shocked state. He had dried blood around his nose and his purpled eyes were drooping close. His chest barely moved with his slowed respiration.

"Dunc!" she tried to push past the first responder who had a stethoscope to his chest. Hot tears quietly fell down her face. "Dunc, please, baby," her voice broke. "Baby, I'm right here," she grabbed on to his hand with all her strength.

"Miss," the paramedics gave her an apologetic look, but they needed her to move to be able to work, "Please, step back."

Y/N was about to argue back, but right as she opened her mouth, one of Duncan's colleagues had his hand on her shoulder and led her back to give them room to work. She'd seen him around the gym plenty of times working out and practicing with Duncan. Jim, she thought his name was.

"Come here, let's give them some room, yeah?" he spoke softly, taking her to the black leather couch before he handed her a bottled water. She was pretty sure he kept trying to talk to her - probably trying to calm her down, but again, his voice sounded a million miles away.

She kept focused on Duncan. Y/N couldn't imagine what she would do if something happened to him - she couldn't bring herself to think it.

Anger and frustration boiled within her, "What's happening! Is he going to be okay?" she stood up from the couch, too on edge to be still.

"We're taking him to the hospital. We need to do a scan - he hit his head pretty hard," one of them explained.

The entire ambulance ride to the hospital, Y/N held on to his hand. She quietly spoke to her unconscious fiance, bargaining with him to just... wake up.

"Please, Duncan," she whispered. The paramedics pretended they couldn't hear her so she could process what she was feeling in peace, "I need you here with me, baby." She kissed his forehead, tears falling on to his chest.

"I love you so much, baby...."

Duncan was rushed into the emergency room and taken away from Y/N.

She paced the empty waiting room all night waiting for an update. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, kiss every bruise on his skin, and tell him again how much she loved him.

After about two hours in the waiting room, more people from the fight started to show up. His manager, his friend from the gym, his coach - everyone coming in to show not only Duncan their support, but Y/N as well.

Everyone gave her hugs and told her if there were anything she needed to just let them know.

The only thing she knew she needed was Duncan.

"Y/N?" she looked up at the sound of her name. She looked up at the doorway to see Duncan's opponent, the one who knocked him down - the one who hurt him, standing there.

He had changed from his boxing uniform to a pair of sweats and clean thsirt.

"I can't tell you how sorry I am," he bowed his head. They all knew it wasn't intentional. It was all part of the sport.

Rationally, Y/N knew - she and Duncan had had conversations about this very thing countless times. There had been instances where Duncan had injured other boxers pretty badly.

It was a sport.

A very dangerous and stupid sport.

Knowing all that didn't stop the angry tears that followed. And it didn't stop her from going up to him and sobbing. Her fists balled up and she punched at his chest - getting out her frustrations against his toned chest.

"How could you!" she cried.

He took her advances like a champ - understanding she was upset. He let her hit at his chest a couple of times before Jim stood up from his seat and pulled her away.

"Y/N," Jim spoke a little louder than he had earlier. "Duncan is going to be okay. You know it's not his fault. He's here for Duncan too," he led her back to her seat.

"Sorry," she mumbled to everyone in the room, "Just... so scared,"

As the night went on, people slowly started to trickle out of the hospital, leaving her with condolences.

"Miss Y/L/N?" a doctor finally called her over. She got on her feet immediately. She walked up to the doctor, holding her breath as she waited for what he was going to say next.

"The good news is Mr. Shepherd is awake," she released the breath she held in, "He is going to be fine..." the doctor placed his hand on her arm, sorrow in his eyes, "He's experiencing what we believe is short term," he paused watching as she processed his words, "amnesia."

"Mr. Shepherd appears to have lost some of his memory,"

What did that even mean?

Her heart started to accelerate again, "What does that mean? What doesn't he remember? Can I see him? Will his memory come back? Do-" her million questions were stopped.

"There are still some tests we need to do before we can determine any of that," he sighed.

"Would you like to see him?"

She silently cursed the doctor for the stupid question - of course she wanted to see him.

She needed to.

--

okay I'm gonna stop there before i go down the rest of this rabbit hole bc this was supposed to be like a paragraph vkdfjv vjfs

ill answer some other boxer dunc stuff that isn't as angsty fjksdf I'm sorry vfjsv

[wolfvirago]

Send a “💀” and My Muse will share one Traumatic Story of their past with Your Muse..  [accepting]

@violetueur​ said:  💀 ( maniacal laughter )

“When I was 14, my big brother disappeared.” The story begins suddenly, soft and yet so very loud in how it breaks the silence between them. Her hand swirls her drink, apple cider splashing around the walls of the mug and threatening to overflow off the sides. Yet it doesn’t, a practiced hand making it stay put.

“Haruki was a sweet, gentle boy. He never showed signs of being a wolf. Our mama and I were the only ones in the family to be wolves. Haruki didn’t let it effect him, though. He was always so brave, always willing to push his human limits and train so he could properly protect the Lost Woods once our father retired.” 

“But the thing was... Our father didn’t retire. He was killed by a yokai out in the woods on a hunting trip. Our mother had been killed by illness a year before. Suddenly, it was just me, at 12, being raised by my big brother. We were both responsible and knew how to live, but he had the job now of protecting the woods from yokai and helping lost souls escape. It was a big responsibility! I can’t imagine, raising a little sister, all while doing the things I do day-to-day!” The wolf sighs, wide eyes relaxing as she slides further down the rabbit hole of memories.

“I think... I think that’s what got to him. He never felt strong enough. Haruki was always telling me he had to get stronger. That if Papa died, as strong as he was, then how could a teenage boy with a sword do anything? How could either of us be worth anything at all when the spirits don’t talk to us the way they did to Mama and Papa?” Her hand slides over her face, rubbing her eyes, then falling dramatically to her lap.

“My brother went out one night... Hunting a large yokai that had been causing the most trouble out of all of them. A horrible but beautiful woman of some kind who could also shapeshift. He was gone for hours. Then, suddenly, he burst through the door. He was covered in blood and dirt. He wouldn’t answer me. It was like I wasn’t even there, no matter how I screamed. He hurriedly packed all his things, looked at me with such pain in his eyes... And left.” Robin’s voice was soft, breaking in a rasp as her eyes stung with tears.

“We exchanged letters for a few months. He told me he was headed into the mountains to find someone to teach him, the same way our parents had been taught. But eventually the letters stopped coming. Years passed. I was left all alone. Completely alone. I’m the guardian now in his stead, but I wonder... I wonder if he...” A long silence followed. Robin stared into nothingness, tears sliding down her reddened cheeks. Abruptly, she came to a stand, and looked away.

“I’m going to bed.”

[mackmontgomerys]

Mack doesn’t know how he ended up here. Not in an existential sense — honestly, some questions were too big and if he wandered down that rabbit hole he would end up spelunking down a blackhole — just in the now.

Sparking his zippo and cupping his hand over the flame so it caught the end of the joint he rolled rather than extinguishing should have been just that, but his mind wandered as the spliff end caught flame and Fiona moved closer to him.

By some series of I’ll thought out decisions he found himself in a town quainter than the one he had grown up in, in a band that felt more like family than his blood relatives and in the presence of a girl who felt so alive to him sometimes that it made the world around her seem dull in comparison.

“You serious?” He says around the end of the joint, plucking it from his lips and exhaling the half inhale he had taken.

“Duh, I will. There’s 0 hot bitches in L.A.” That on its own was a lie. “Not hot like you at least. They’re like, Jessica Rabbit hot. You see them on Instagram and you’re like goddamn but then you see them in real life, no filter, no airbrush, no Remini and you’re bonechilled. Just like when Jessica Rabbit turns back into a rabbit. Or did she just marry one? Whatever, you know what I’m saying, right? You’re real life hot. Honestly fucking throws me sometimes like damn.”

It was for the best that they had never figured out what, if anything, they were. Even without any concrete idea, it wasn’t lost on him that he was the one punching.

Mack shifts his body then to accommodate his arm moving around her shoulders and the stretch his legs out as best as he could in front of him in the limited space, the park architect or whatever clearly hadn’t considered long legged cryptids in their design ideas.

“Plus, no way I could ever link up with someone as creative as us. We’re like sex masterminds, but with heart. That time I was a gladiator and you were a neglected Dominus’ wife? That got me and not just in the pants.” If his hand wasn’t held out offering her a toke of the blunt, he’d have kissed his fist and thrown a deuce to the sky for Mackximus and Fionalia and their ill-fated love.

His focus can’t help but drift from her to the ominous opening to the slide while she smoked, a combination of the hour, the weed and his mind working overtime in unison.

“You know, if this was a Stephen King movie, the second we make out is when some janky looking third cousin of Pennywise the clown would grab me by the ankle and yank me down to whatever sewed lair they got going on under the town.”

As if to both test his theory and tempt fate, he scuffed the bottom of his right Jordan 1 clad foot against the edge of it as if to beckon a lurking beast to try it.

location: riverview park for: @mackmontgomery

Mack caters to her whims, which isn’t something that’s always easy for Fiona to find in another person, especially one she’s sleeping with.

He checks a whole lot of boxes. She thinks she checks a lot of boxes for him, too.

Tonight, the whim had come to her almost immediately after they’d fucked (she in a slutty maid outfit this time, Mack playing the part of rich-dude-fucking-his-maid, of course), and she’d barely given them time to change before it was out the door and over to Riverview Park.

At nearly midnight, as it is now, the place is completely deserted and they need the flashlights on their phones to climb up on the jungle gym without breaking their necks. It’s worth it, though, as it had always been when she was a teenager.

Sitting with their backs to the railing and the black hole of a tunnel slide right next to them, Fiona presses into Mack’s side, watching intently as he lights up a joint for them.

“When you guys, like, actually get famous,” she says, “you’ll still come back and play mermaid and sailor with me sometimes, right? No matter what hot bitches you meet?”

[emospritelet]

Heatstroke - chapter 17

I tweaked the prompt a little :)

[AO3]

x

Before leaving the city for small-town Maine, Lacey had told herself she wasn’t going to spend every night drinking until the early hours, as she had in New York. Since moving to Storybrooke she had mostly kept that promise to herself. During the week, anyway. Weekends were a different matter. Ruby usually had Friday nights off from the diner, but that inevitably meant that she worked on Saturdays, and while Lacey wasn’t bothered by going to the Rabbit Hole by herself, it was much more fun to have Ruby’s company while she slowly went out of her mind. Saturday evening found her at the bar in Granny’s Diner, drinking her way through a few tall glasses of ice-cold oblivion and telling Ruby about her latest unsuccessful encounter with Gold.

“So he wasn’t even dressed?” Ruby set a vodka and orange in front of her, leaning on the bar and resting her chin on her hands. “At that time in the morning? Not like Gold.”

“That’s what I thought,” said Lacey, stirring her drink with a straw. “It was weird, Rubes. I was all bracing for insults and sarcasm, and it was like he couldn’t even look at me.”

“You can’t tell me you wanted insults and sarcasm.”

“No,” she admitted. “But I think I’d choose that over being ignored.”

“Oh God…” Ruby shook her head. “Would you just ask him out already? Ask him to Zelena’s stupid dance.”

“I told you, he’s not going,” said Lacey impatiently. “And even if he was, it’s obvious he’s not interested. I mean it was obvious before, but now…”

“Maybe you just disturbed him doing something?”

“Like what?” Lacey stirred her drink moodily, and looked up. “Oh God, you don’t think he had someone there, do you?”

“Like a - a woman?”

“Maybe, I don’t know.” She took a drink, enjoying the tart taste of the orange juice and the smooth heat of the vodka in her throat. “I bet he did. I bet he had someone stay the night and I woke him up from a round of hot morning sex, good God!”

“Lacey.” Ruby leaned on the bar with a patient expression on her face. “Apart from you, the only person lusting after Gold in this town is Zelena. And he would never.”

“Okay,” Lacey nodded, feeling a little better. “That’s a fair point. But it could have been someone from out of town.”

“Maybe he’s sick,” suggested Ruby. “You could have pulled him out of his death bed.”

“Hey, that’s a point.” She perked up a little. “Yeah, maybe that’s why he was off with me. Great!”

“There you go.”

Lacey groaned, slumping on the bar with her chin pushed into her folded arms.

“God, I shouldn’t wish ill health on the man, should I?” she said dolefully. “What’s wrong with me, Rubes? I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

“Yeah, it feels that way to me, too,” remarked Ruby.

“Why am I like this?” demanded Lacey, pushing upright again. “Past Lacey was never like this. Past Lacey would find a hot guy, have a good time, and move the hell on! Past Lacey would have been like ‘pfft, so he’s not interested, his loss’. That’s always how it was before.”

“So maybe it’s something more meaningful this time,” suggested Ruby. “Maybe present Lacey wants an actual relationship, not just hot crazy sex.”

“Oh no, present Lacey totally wants the hot crazy sex,” said Lacey, snickering as she reached for her drink. “I just need him to want me back, that’s all.”

“I told you, the ‘you seeing him naked’ thing put him off,” said Ruby. “Guys like Gold need to feel like they’re in charge.”

“Hmmm.” Lacey grinned widely. “He can do that if he wants.”

Her grin widened at the thought of Gold taking charge in a number of very delicious ways, and Ruby rolled her eyes.

“You got it bad, girl,” she observed.

“I can’t help it!” said Lacey, slapping the bar with her palms. “First time we met I saw his junk, and believe me, it was absolutely no hardship as far as I’m concerned. And since then I’ve been checking him out every chance I get.” She took a slurp of her drink to wet her throat. “I thought he looked pretty good full frontal, but did you see his ass in those pants? Biteable.”

Ruby’s eyes had gone very wide.

“Lacey, shh!” she hissed.

“What? It’s true!” Lacey waved a hand. “I always thought you’d need a big hammer to bang in a nail that size, but nope! Almost as cute and pert as mine.”

“Yeah, that’s a great point you just made about - uh - carpentry,” said Ruby loudly, and Lacey felt her brow crinkle.

“Carpentry? What the hell are you - it was a metaphor, Rubes!” she insisted. “I’m talking about how Gold should man up and nail me!”

“Hey Mr Gold!” said Ruby brightly, a somewhat desperate smile on her face. “What can I get you?”

Lacey felt as though a bucket of iced water had been thrown in her face, the shock of it making her catch her breath with a gasp. A ball of lead the size of a small watermelon appeared to have dropped into her stomach and was trying to drag her down through the floorboards and into the diner cellar. She was tempted to let it. He’s right fucking behind me, isn’t he?

“Miss Lucas,” Gold’s lazy drawl made her close her eyes in horror. “Just the rent, if you please. I leave minor - uh - carpentry jobs to those with more inclination for the task.”

Lacey wanted to die. She slipped from the stool, snatching up her bag and coat. Perhaps if she didn’t open her eyes, he wouldn’t be able to see her.

“Later, Rubes,” she muttered, and almost ran from the diner.

Gold watched her go, slim legs moving remarkably quickly considering the height of her heels. Turning back to the bar, he favoured Miss Lucas with a tiny smile, but she was glaring at him, dark eyes flashing.

“Are you stupid?” she demanded, and he frowned.

“I beg your pardon?” he asked, in a freezing voice, and she threw up her hands.

“That poor girl just said out loud how much she wants to bang you, and your response is to be all snide and cutting? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“What are you talking about?” he snapped. “I know full well Miss French has no interest in me other than as an object of ridicule!”

Miss Lucas put her hands on her hips, glaring at him.

“Don’t you have eyes?” she demanded. “You telling me you haven’t seen her staring at you?”

“Oh, I vividly remember our first encounter,” he said dryly. “I also remember hearing her discuss it with you afterwards. You’ll forgive me if I’m not turned on by mockery.”

Miss Lucas sniffed.

“Look, if you’re getting your cock out in public you have to expect a little teasing.”

“I did not get my cock out in public!” he snapped. “It was on my own property, and frankly it’s no more your business than it was hers!”

“Yeah, well she wasn’t mocking you, she was just - surprised.”

“Oh please!” he said, in a disparaging tone. “I’ve no interest in whatever game you two are playing.”

“She just said you should man up and nail her! You heard her!”

“Really?” he said dismissively, tugging at cuffs that didn’t need it. “Hilarious, if one understands the context, I’m sure.”

“Oh my God…” She shook her head. “Blind, deaf and stupid. I should have just talked to Neal.”

“What does my son have to do with this?” he demanded, and she shrugged.

“Just saying. Something tells me he’s not as dense as you.”

Gold glared at her.

“Are you gonna give me the rent, or do I have to consider raising it?”

“Fine, resort to empty threats all you like,” she sniffed, turning away.

She unlocked the drawer beneath the counter, taking out the envelope of rent money, and slapping it on the counter. She was still glaring at him, and Gold took the money with an unpleasant smile, opening it up and beginning to count out the notes.

“She likes you,” said Miss Lucas, making him pause. “Lacey likes you. Weird as it seems to me, and as much as I don’t want to hear about her many fantasies involving you, she likes you. She likes you a lot. As in she wants to have sex with you. Also a lot.”

Gold had lost count the moment she mentioned Lacey’s name, but there was no way he was about to admit it. He gathered up the pile of bills, stuffing it back into the envelope and retrieving his notebook from his pocket.

“It’s all there,” he said stiffly, flipping through the pages. 

“Just ask her out,” went on Miss Lucas. “Or go to that dance of Zelena’s if you’re gonna be a wuss about it. Then you don’t even need to ask her out. You could just - you would be there, and she would be there, and the two of you could - you know.”

Gold could barely see what he was writing, but he pretended that he knew what he was doing. He wrote the date out with such a flourish that it tore the paper, and slipped the notebook back into his pocket. The envelope of money followed it, his hands shaking a little.

“Thank you, Miss Lucas,” he said, his tone hollow. “Do give my regards to your grandmother.”

Turning on his heel, he fixed his gaze on the door and limped towards it as though it was the path to his salvation.

“Why are you both such idiots!” called Miss Lucas, and he flinched as he grasped the door handle.

Getting out into the cool summer evening, he let the door close behind him, and exhaled slowly, head rolling back as he let the soft breeze caress his skin. Surely Miss Lucas wasn’t being serious? Admittedly Lacey had said something extremely suggestive about him, but what if it was part of their banter, the joke that never got old. Gold and his naked body, forever an object of ridicule.

What if it wasn’t? A voice in his head whispered to him, a faint spark of hope igniting deep within him. What if she actually likes you? You could go to that tedious charity ball. By the sound of it, she’ll be there, no doubt reporting for the Mirror. You could ask her to dance. That wouldn’t arouse anyone’s suspicions. Maybe not even hers. And if she does like you...

The idea of Lacey actually returning his feelings was too heady to contemplate, and Gold shook his head, striding off down the street. No. He would think about this intriguing possibility when he was in the safety of his own home and with a large glass of something strong. He definitely needed a little Dutch courage to plan his next move.

[tuhbanbuv]

Mad Rat Live AU: Part 1.5

Chapter 1.5

Retched

TW: Alcohol/Drunk Driving mention, Illness, Death Mention, Trauma mention, Medical mention, Cheating mention, Blood, Swearing. (This chapter might be too much for some people...)

Once his family becomes involved, Vane journeys deeper down the rabbit hole.

Imma be honest with you: writing this is a pain in the ass. Don't get me wrong, I love this series and I actually have stuff planned, it's just that I don't know how to fucking get it on paper. Don't know if that's my Attention Deficit Disorder or my laziness talking. I still feel kinda guilty not updating every couple of days, need to get control of that as well.

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Alice looked down at the cage as she closed the door to the car. She held the cage in her lap after buckling her seat belt, carrying it as her husband started the car. She watched the sickly rat as it curled up into a blanket, resting in one of the corners.

“So, how did it go?” Ben asked. Alice glanced back at her daughter, watching as she buckled her seatbelt.

“According the Vane, little guy needed a heart transplant.”

“Do they even do that for rodents?”

“Vane said it was rare, but possible.” Alice explained. “You know him, he’s stubborn. If you give him roadkill, it’ll be up and walking after an hour.” She looked over at the cage, watching the rat’s shaky breaths. It’s nose seemed to twitch, as if it was smelling something.

“Didn’t think I’d be marrying the sister to a necromancer.”

“He’s not a necromancer.” Alice groaned. “Just very dedicated to his job. And I don’t want you saying that when he comes over for—"

“I won’t-!” Ben nervously chuckled. “Just…we’ve been married for ten years and I still know nothing about him.” Alice sighed, staring back down at the cage. She slowly stuck her finger through the bars, approaching the rat.

“Hey little guy…”

The rat remained unconscious, yet let out a weak hiss, shaking before he buried himself in the blankets. She raised her brow as her stomach dropped. The rat was scared, even if he couldn’t see her. He could recognize her scent as something hostile.

“Is Mr. Mousey awake?” Caroline asked.

“No, he’s still resting, sweetie.” Alice sighed. “I want you to be very careful with him when we get home. He seems a little aggressive.”

“Mr. Mousey is just scared!” Caroline replied. “Mr. Mousey was lost, and being lost is scary! I’m gonna make him not lost, and make him feel all better!”

Alice smiled after her daughter’s comment. Much like her brother, Caroline rarely got along with the other kids. She was surprised, seeing as how kind she was. She had trouble bonding with others, either talked over people or being talked over. She could barely look her own mother in the eyes, but she had no trouble playing and caring for the animals at the rescue.

“Just don’t be too loud with him.” She explained. “Don’t try to pick him up right away, give him some treats to get him to trust you first, just like we do with the other rescues.”

“Okay, mommy!” Caroline giggled. Alice sighed, looking down at the rat in the cage. Her brother, as secretive and cold as he usually appeared, was one of the most selfless people she knew. He wasn’t bad, just very shy. Of course, he had a good reason to be, one that Alice would only find out about barely a few years ago.

Even if she wasn’t at fault, she still felt guilty.

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Vials clinked, clattering together as Vane examined the liquids. Drips of blood sandwiched between slides, magnified under the scope. He sighed, looking at the slides.

Long, spiraling creatures twitched as he stared. They looked almost alien, yet they seemed to resemble a parasitic infection. The parasites seemed to almost have legs, looking almost like centipedes. Yet, they were all too similar to the parasite Trichinella Spiralis.

“Good god.” Vane thought. He shook his head as he sanitized his hands. He was lucky enough to be sent some of the samples of the blood to analyze himself, but he didn’t feel so lucky in getting the results. It was easy to jump to conclusions about what happened.

The rat was infected with trichinosis, most likely during it’s time in the lab. The Trichinella spiralis parasite was known for causing myocarditis in untreated patients or after heavy infestations. Myocarditis, if left untreated, lead to heart failure.

“Hey, it’s Dr. Petrov. I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for days.” Vane only got a muffled answer from the other line. “Can you speak up? I can’t exactly hear you.”

“Vane, this isn’t a good time right now—”

“Sorry. Just got back with test results.” Vane sighed, pacing the kitchen. He nervously scratched the back of his head. “Found traces of Trichinella Spiralis, heavy infection in the blood. I’ve come to ask you if you found something similar in the biopsy?”

Silence, followed by clattering from the other side of the line.

“Y-yeah it…now that you mention it, it has a strong resemblance to…fucking hell…”

“You alright over there?” Vane asked.

“Yes, just…it’s been busy here, that’s all. Stress is getting to me.”

“Take the next shift off-!” Vane replied, sitting down at the kitchen counter. “You’ve worked more than I have. You can take some of my sick days if you need to—”

“No, Dr. Petrov. I…I’ll be fine.”

“Rebecca—” The vet interrupted. “I’ll take over the analysis, no worries. You deserve a break, especially after what happened.” The other vet sighed in the background of the phone call. “I’m…sorry for bringing it up.”

“No problem.” Rebecca sighed. “You’re…you’re right. I’ve just…I just…needed a bit of a distraction.”

“You doing okay?” Vane asked, fiddling with a pen he found from a bowl on the counter. “You can talk to me about anything, promise.”

“It’s been…rough. I just…is it something about my face? Do I talk to much or—”

“It’s nothing wrong with you. He was just a douchebag.” Vane sighed. “Men like don’t really think as much as they should.” Rebecca chuckled from behind the line. It was that one chuckle he could recognize, one that he shouldn’t have felt anxious about.

“God, I wish I met you five years ago.” She sighed. “World needs more men like you.” It was easy to hide his displeasure when it was just an audio-only call. He didn’t enjoy talking to his female coworkers. Not that he hated them, he just hated the reactions he got.

“Eh, I’m not perfect.” Vane muttered. “He’ll probably get what’s coming to him, even if it’s not immediate. Who knows, maybe one of his side-chicks will be a gold-digger?” He bit his lip before he could run off again. “Well, I should get going before I start rambling. Make sure to take a break, okay? If I see you at work again, I’m driving you home immediate—”

“Okay-!” Rebecca giggled. “Goodnight, Vane.”

“Night.” He made sure to hang up as fast as he could. He didn’t want to seem clingy by holding onto the call for a few more seconds before she’d hang up. He still worried if he was being rude doing so. Either way, he’d be anxious.

Vane hated how he gained the reputation of being a “chick-magnet” at his clinic. He couldn’t understand why, seeing as he rarely hung out with any of his coworkers, sticking to a more secluded life in his apartment. Although, his tattoos and facial scar were bound to raise some intrigue.

He tried his best to be polite. He didn’t like to see such negative reactions, and he didn’t want to be that guy. However, this tended to backfire a lot, and only attract more unwanted eyes.

Vane wished he could get the guts to say “no” for once.

Vane sighed, flipping through the news app on his phone. He’d hoped to find something, albeit something not too newsworthy, but funny enough to keep the current events off his mind. He’d hadn’t kept up with the news since the surgery on the rat. It wasn’t too healthy to keep oneself closed off like that.

As he scrolled, the news got older and older. He wanted to check in on everything he missed during that time. Though, he regretted it when he saw it.

Drunk driver causes truck accident off of highway…shocking photos…

This was strange. They had a low crime rate, a low DUI rate, too. This must have been serious. Vane clicked on the link, scrolling through the article.

According to the article, a truck driver had been swerving back and forth, until it swerved out of the way of a wild animal and young girl. The truck eventually tipped over with the man inside, who had to be pulled out by two bystanders. Luckily, there seemed to be no casualties, and the man was arrested due to failing a drug test and taken into police custody.

Before they loaded, Vane absentmindedly clicked on the photos.

His heart dropped as soon as they loaded.

In the road was his own niece, Caroline, sitting just a few feet from the tipped over truck. Tire marks indicated that the truck was driving towards her, and had barely missed her, backed up by the paragraph afterwards.

And right in her arms were the cat and rat.

He slowly felt a panic creeping up as he fell down a rabbit hole of news articles as he found a link on the bottom to the article linking to an update on the story.

Once it loaded, the title lit up a grim picture.

Local drunk driver found dead!

The driver of the truck was held in police custody that day. The driver exhibited symptoms of intestinal distress. Police were convinced that it was due to the effects of drugs or alcohol, when the driver began to show signs of psychosis and delirium before collapsing in his cell and becoming unresponsive. He was taken to a nearby hospital where he was pronounced dead.

Vane shook his head, feeling almost breathless as he clicked on another update link. Before he looked, he set down his phone and tried to calm his breathing. A thousand words, a thousand different thoughts rampaged in his head.

His sister informed him of a similar event over the phone, but at first he thought nothing of it. Car accidents are common, probably just a scrape on the bumper, he thought. But now, it was all too real for him. Just thinking of it, his own niece, Caroline, nearly being killed by a drunkard who just collapsed in his own cell. Just the thought of him losing her in such a quick fashion made him sick. It was strange to think how happy he was knowing the man was dead.

But surprisingly, that happiness turned to faint pity with the next update.

An autopsy report followed. Upon autopsy, the driver was found to be in multi organ failure due to an infestation of…

Trichinella spiralis.

Vane felt weak, sick to his stomach. He dropped his phone, before burying his head in his arms and trying not to faint.

Trichinella spiralis. The same thing the rat was infected with. The timeline didn’t work, but he was suspicious of a correlation. Of course, the rat was from a potentially illegal animal testing lab, perhaps it could’ve started there? Speculating would’ve gotten him nowhere. He had to phone the clinic of his suspicions. Even if it was nothing, it was better to come in for what could’ve been nothing than to ignore something serious.

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[strangerobin]

Rue: Chapter 3 (A Jasper Hale x OC Imagine)

A play of hide and seek.

Writer's note: I had initially intended for this to be a reader insert piece, but it gets difficult trying to write without a name. So I decided for an OC instead lol

“Welcome to Northern Lights Resort and Spa, how may I help you?” Adeline smiled as she welcomed the next set of guests at the front lobby.

She’d moved to Whitehorse where the city was permanently covered with white snow and blanketed by the night sky more than half of the day. Found a part time job at the local resort, rented a run-down flat in downtown. It was cold and dark and it was everything she needed and loved.

Depression always did look good on her, as Tatiana would say.

But Tatiana would not think to find her here, nor Father, or anyone else for the matter. And she was safe, free to wallow in self pity and self loathing; free to ruminate on every last regret she had.

Thursday nights were reserved for movie nights; the local cinema showed sepia movies every Thursday nights, and it was nostalgic to see Audrey Hepburn and Elizabeth Taylor and all those stars again on the big screen, she was always addicted to the motion pictures back then.

She even managed to keep a fling on the side. A young college boy with golden curls, though his eyes were not quite the right shade of brown, his were too dark. And she wished he wouldn’t talk so much of his self absorbed art pieces, she’d rather he talked about the literature he should be reading instead. She’d picked a copy of Frankenstein from the local book store again, and he’d only given it a side glance and never returned to it again. But he was a warm embrace in the dead of the night, so she guess she’ll let it pass for now.

Other nights though, she would walk out alone in the reserves, hunting, mesmerised by the Northern Lights, solar winds from the sun meeting this earth’s atmosphere, deflected by the earth's magnetism to become polar lights that twist on itself to form an array of colours. It made her feel small, reminded her that she did not mattered, that nothing mattered.

“Your rooms are on the fifth floor, the lift is just past the lobby on the right. Please enjoy your stay here.” Adeline recited her lines, directing her guests on their right way.

It wasn’t much really, but mundane was good, habits made her feel safe. She’d managed to carve out a little safe haven for herself in this gigantic world.

It was enough for now.

Until she felt the strangest sensation in her chest. It had begun as a dull ache, so insidious she did not notice when it first started. Not long after, the pain began to come in waves, crashing, clenching at her heart so painfully she was starting to sweat. Adeline clawed at her chest. Mumbling an apology, she quickly ran to the back and folded into herself, sweating dropping down her brow as she tried to make the pain go away.

It didn’t feel so much as a physical pain. Nor was it the usual warnings that her instinct whispered. No, it was something else, something more emotional, something more primal.

What was happening?

It felt as if she was reminded of all the things she had lost in her entire existence, all the grief she could not hold. But there was another sharp tug at her heart, urging her to move in some unknown direction, lest she should regret.

The feeling only seemed to intensify as the seconds passed. And then she knew.

It was coming towards her. Whatever it was that her heart sought.

Just as the doors to the resort opened-

Adeline Ruelle did the only thing she was good at.

She ran.

In the exact opposite direction.

*

It took them quite a while to even figure out in which direction she had gone. It had taken Alice an even lengthier time to pinpoint which area she might be, scouring all her visions for a single blindspot. It was near impossible.

Jasper’s anxiety was quickly infecting the whole household; everyone could feel the tension in the air, electrifying. Edward and Bella had to take Renesmee to stay in their little cottage; even Emmett had been quiet for most of the days. Jasper mostly kept to himself in his room, oscillating between two extremes, bouncing on the balls of his feet and sitting hunched in the corner, frozen in his thoughts.

“North.” Alice had finally muttered on the tenth day. “Canada.”

From there on, it was another few weeks before the pair managed to locate their target working in a resort in Whitehorse, Yukon, Canada. Tracking her scent, and where the blindspots were appearing, but even that proved difficult. And by the time they had arrived, she had been gone.

Just gone. Her colleagues had no way of knowing where she had suddenly vanished to in the middle of her shift.

They did, however, managed to locate her little flat in downtown.

And possibly a fling or two.

Jasper had simply looked on in distaste at the man, never uttering a single word. Alice was left with the questions.

How long had they known each other? What did she tell him of herself? Did he have any clue where she might go next? On and on and on, which they gleaned pretty much close to nothing for the college boy. Jasper had simply rolled his eyes and stuffed his hands petulantly into his pockets.

Alice though, she did not miss the resemblance the man had with Jasper.

Then they had gone into the flat she had rented. Clearly she had been there before, hastily packing her, possibly, few possessions with her. Except one or two mass paperbacks she had evidently bought to pass time.

Alice watched as Jasper lingered on the little paperback edition of Frankenstein carelessly strewn over the coffee table. Watched as he fingered the cover of the book thoughtfully, then leafed through the pages of the book. When he caught her staring he merely shrugged.

“It was always her favourite.”

She did not miss it when Jasper quietly tucked the book into the pocket of his jacket.

*

“I do know that for the sympathy of one living being. I would make peace with all. I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other.”

“That’s a little too morbid, wouldn’t you say so darling?”

“On the contrary, I find it exceedingly accurate and befitting.”

“Come now.” He chuckled good-naturedly. “You are not a monster, darlin’.”

“And who’s to say I am not?” She challenged with steel in her eyes.

“Adeline.” He admonished softly, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. “You could never be one.”

“And how would you know? Perhaps it is because I hide my fiendish side behind a mask so masterfully that I have deceived the world, and even you.” She hated the shrillness in her voice, the desperation she tried to conceal.

“Sweetheart, only my heart cannot deceive me. You have bared your heart and soul to me and I have seen, have felt the kindness and love overflowing from your heart. How could a monster possess of such?”

“And if I had committed crimes in my past?”

“Then I know with confidence that it was not out of ill intent on your part.”

“You are too kind, Jasper.”

“Am I now? Come let us read something sweeter darling.”

Adeline pouted. “You know it is only my favourite.”

“And I do not understand your morbid fascination of it.”

Adeline huffed in annoyance and Jasper laughed poking her in the cheek. “That being said.”

“The monster was never truly the monster Adeline. It was always Frankenstein. Remember when he said ‘Life, although it may be an accumulation of anguish, is dear to me, and I will defend it.’”

“He loved life more than anyone else, he possessed the gentlest soul and a deep appreciation to life like no other. He deserved to live, to be loved more than anyone else.”

Adeline blinked in shock at Jasper’s passionate outburst and before she realised, a single tear had rolled down her cheek.

“Adeline?”

She leaned forward and to capture him in a passionate kiss.

*

Adeline awoke with a start. Turning away from the blinding sun, she rubbed her eyes blearily. What time was it even?

Certainly not the 1800s.

Misplaced memories. Huh.

Adeline tried not to let her mind wander back to her dream just now, and certainly not the man of her dream.

It was close to three months after that incident at Whitehorse, She was in Minnesota now, surely no one would think to look for her here. It wasn’t New York or Chicago or Seattle. Nowhere conspicuous, middle of the line, your average American midwestern state. Surely that would provide for some camouflage or something?

No matter.

She had far troubling things to be concerned of right now.

She had been going over it time and again since her flight. The incident at Whitehorse was strange really because in all her existence, she had never once felt that before, the strange pull at her heart. The ache in her chest.

Or not?

Something was goading at her in the back of her mind, to examine the incident closer, to remind her of certain memories she would rather not remember; but she refused to let anything surface.

She picked up her new copy of Fitzgerald - Tender is the Night.

She had a shift at the local bar in three hours. She was determined to be their on time and not go down some damned rabbit hole.

*

“It’s here.” Alice looked to Jasper as he took in the environment, the rain falling softly beside them in the chilly January night; the lights from the bar, the cheap building. She hadn’t yet met the girl, but Adeline sure did know how to blend in, finding the most ordinary of places to hide amongst humans. Places not too obvious, but also not too obscure, where no one would bother to look twice, or even think to look.

Jasper’s face was grim and his eyes set. He was radiating anxiety, probably without meaning to. She gently patted Jasper on the back to soothe him.

“It’s alright, I’ll go in first. You wait here for my signal.”

He only nodded.

Ducking into the threshold she was immediately assaulted by the barrage of lights and noise; it took Alice a few minutes before she caught sight of a head of brown curls at the bar table chatting with her fellow bar tenders, all the while cleaning glasses. She made a beeline for it.

“Adeline Ruelle?”

The girl turned towards her and assumed a businesslike front, ready to serve. But Alice did not miss the small tremor in her shoulders, the uncomfortable shift in position, subtle and quick as it may be.

Bingo.

She was evidently a master in concealing her emotions, her nervousness hidden behind a reassuring smile, anyone would have been fooled. Except Alice. She watched the bartender closely.

“I’m sorry Miss, we don’t have an Adeline here. I’m Cordelia, perhaps I can get you a drink first while you wait for your friend?”

“Bourbon, if you would be so kind.”

“Just a minute.” She turned to get the drink and Alice took her time to appraise the girl.

She really was beautiful. Alice thought. She might be posing as your ordinary college student/part time bartender, but the way she held herself, her grace and poise, it was something she could never lose even on purpose. And the breathtaking beauty, she stuck out like a sore thumb.

It was no wonder Jasper had loved her so completely, irrevocably in his past life. How could any man resist such an alluring woman? She could not be mad at Jasper for his choices in his past life; and judging by his recounts and the hardworking girl right in front of her, neither had anticipated the whirlwind of romance and the subsequent breakup when they first met. In fact she might just be a tad bit jealous of the bond they shared, she’d never in her life experienced something so strong and consuming. Sure she loved Jasper and no one could deny the love that they shared. But it paled in comparison to one the two shared. She was almost sure they were mates.

It still left her heartbroken all the same.

But then she remembered the first time she met Jasper; we’re not mates but if you would have me we could keep each other company until our mates showed up. I mean, two is always better than one right? It left her conflicted now; she was reaping what she had sowed.

Yet as Alice continued to observe the girl closely, she noted how her coworkers seemed to treat her as if she was just any normal college student. Talking to her, bantering lightly, she threw her head and laughed heartily. To them, She was just the right amount of charismatic it seemed. And her smell…

It was then she realised she did not catch ahold of her scent.

Had she concealed it? Could one even do so on voluntary grounds?

“Your bourbon miss.” Adeline returned, sliding a small glass across the bar table.

“So what brings you here, to Minnesota?” Alice decided to make a strike.

The bartender’s face twitched momentarily. “Pardon?”

“You don’t seem like you're from around here. You don’t look like it.”

“I mean, It’s a free country. Anyone can go anywhere really.” Adeline shrugged.

“Lemme guess.” Alice pretended to think all the while observing the other closely. “You’re from the South, aren't you? Like Louisiana, or Texas.”

“I’ve lived there, yes… but then again I’ve lived almost everywhere really.” The bartended shot her a tight-lipped smile, the stiffness in her posture even more profound now. “Well if you need anything just give me a holler will you? I hope your friend finds you soon.”

It was her.

Alice watched as she turned to smile at her coworkers and then ducked into the kitchen.

She was making her escape.

Well, they can't let her go that easily now can they?

Alice raced out of the bar immediately, searching for her companion outside the parking lot.

But she was only left with an empty parking lot as the wind blew and the rain fell harder than ever.