#like at least this time i woke up to someone asking me about testament. there was a catalyst. but still its day 5 of this

[lesbiangiratina]

Faust says testament has a codependency problem and fanny says testament needs sedatives i wish they encountered more medical professionals this is so awesome

[rebelliousstories]

Celebrate

25 Days of Ficmas

Relationship: Marko x Reader

Fandom: The Lost Boys

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of Vampirism

Word Count: 1,585

Masterlist: Here

The Lost Boys Masterlist: Here

Summary: If anyone can convince the boys to put in a little effort for the holiday, surely it’s Marko?

Marko was the more oriented of the blonde terror twins. Opposed to Paul, he could focus on one thing for a while without needed other stimuli. His jacket was evidence of that. A testament to his unwavering dedication to his art. So when he meets someone at the boardwalk with an equally detailed, somewhat chaotic, and colorful jacket, he just has to meet them. Which is what led him to her. They bonded over one night with their shared love for patches and any other form of art. What started off as a means to get a meal, turned in to a blossoming friendship, which led to a beautiful and meaningful relationship. With this love for art, came a love for holidays and decorating. Marko shared her love for al things festive and would help her decorate; New Year’s, Halloween, Valentine’s Day, Summer Solstice, Spring and Fall Equinoxes, and Christmas, and the Winter Solstice. But when she moved in to the cave to be closer to Marko, there were certainly some hesitation for her love of decorating.

Namely, David. He did not mind her, but the love for decorating he could do without. However, this did little to discourage her as she made her way around, finding new places to hang tinsel and garland. She had already scooped out a place to put up a tree. But it seemed Marko was the only one on board with her decorating. They took to the boardwalk one night to find some last minute decorations for the cave.

“Hey Marky,” she asked, looking at an ornament. The vampire came up and rested his hands on her waist, and head on her shoulder. He hummed in acknowledgment before pressing light kisses to her neck.

“Do you think the boys would wanna help with the decorations? I know Laddie we can get on board but, like, Dwayne, and Paul, and David. Do you think we could convince them?” Turning in Marko’s arms, he ceased his attack on her neck. She looked up at her lover with a hopeful expression. He thought about it for a minute.

“We can try. Might have to be a tag team effort but, I’m sure we can convince at least some of them.” It was not the best answer, but it was the best she had for the time being. After having a good day’s sleep, the couple woke the following evening to put their plan into motion.

Operation: Celebration and Decorations

~

Paul was fairly easy to convince. He loved the chance to have a good time, and usually followed plans when they were given to him.

“Hey Paul?” Marko called out, pulling on his boots one evening after they woke up. The other blonde looked over towards the cherub with wide eyes as he was stuck in between getting into his jacket, and then rolling a blunt.

“Wanna help me and love decorate the front of the cave for Christmas?” He stood up and took the blunt from the other vampire so he could finish getting dressed. Paul shrugged his shoulders that the jacket now covered. He took back the blunt from Marko with a, “sure dude!” One down, two to go.

~

Dwayne was a little harder. He was a rule follower when he wanted to be, and that was apparently now.

“Dwayne?” She came up to the vampire as he waited for Star and Laddie to show up at the boardwalk to go home. He turned to her without saying a word, just raised an eyebrow.

“Will you help Marko, Paul, Laddie, Star and I decorate the cave for Christmas?” Her request was said so sweetly that Dwayne almost gave in. And with the added bonus of doing it with and for Laddie, he almost said yes. But Dwayne called out her name, dragging it out.

“You remember what David said. He doesn’t want the cave all glittered up.” He dragged the woman back so she was looking at him. She knew he was serious but so was she.

“We’re not gonna use glitter. Besides, it’s Laddie’s first Christmas. Please, Dwayne?” The woman turned on the puppy dog eyes, and watched as Dwayne thought it over in his head. Silence stretched long enough that she had considered using another angle to get him to say yes.

“Alright. For Laddie.” Her squeal of delight pulled a small chuckle out of the vampire in front of her before she hoped on the back of Marko’s bike to await his return.

Only one left.

~

“No.”

“Come on, David!” Marko begged, watching David walk away from him.

“Marko, no. I will tolerate your human. I will even accept the fact that you are putting up decorations for Christmas. But I will not be any part of it.” He continued to walk away from his vampire brother, wanting the conversation to end desperately.

“David, just, please! Will you stop for a second and listen!” Marko surged forward and grabbed the bleach blonde vampire by the arm. Said vampire turned swiftly and yanked his arm from Marko’s grasp. The pair stood there for a minute as David stared down the cherubic boy in front of him.

“I know you don’t like Christmas and celebrating, David. But she does. This is important to her. Plus, Laddie is really looking forward to celebrating. You’re not going to let Laddie down now right?” It was a dirty trick, but Marko knew that David held a secret soft spot for the young boy. A noise brought the vampires attention to the front of the cave.

Dwayne had Laddie on his shoulders while the young vampire threw tinsel around one of the ledges in the cave. Paul was blasting music on their boombox while Star stayed near Dwayne spotting Laddie. The other girl in the cave was busy sorting out the ornaments for the tree that was going to go in the cave tomorrow night when they could go get it. It was genuinely wonderful to see everyone in the cave laughing and having a good time. Without looking at Marko, David spoke.

“Fine. One thing. I’m only doing one thing and that’s it.” David continued to walk away from Marko, who did not follow him this time. The bleach blonde vampire sat wordlessly in his wheelchair and simply watched everyone for the time being.

Okay. Now they had everyone on board. Time to get this show on the road.

~

The following evening, everyone was busy decking out the cave. Star was working with Paul to throw the garland around the tree, which was somewhat working. It mostly succeeded because of Star, but she did get plenty of giggles out of watching Paul try his best. Laddie and Dwayne were wrapping Paul’s presents because if they did it any sooner than tonight, he would have torn into them already. Plus, he was distracted, giving them plenty of time to get it done. Marko and his lover were placing stocking all around the fountain, and putting more tinsel around as well. And David sat in his chair, smoking a cigarette.

By the time David had finished his third cigarette, the only thing left were the ornaments for the tree. Everyone gathered around and picked up an ornament each to start placing on the tree.

“David, come on!” He heard Marko’s girlfriend exclaim from the other side of the cave. Sighing, he pushed the fourth unlit cigarette behind his ear and stood. David made his way over to the group and reluctantly snatched an ornament just like the rest of them. Laddie got up on Dwayne’s shoulders to place ornaments near the top, while Paul held up a box of the colorful decorations for the both of them to choose from. Soon enough, all the ornaments had been placed on the tree. It truly looked like the kind of thing out of a Christmas Hallmark film, except it was missing the topper. Marko left, but returned quickly, this time with a new box. A crystallized, star tree topper awaited them. All of them, except David who had already turned to leave again, but a hand on his arm stopped him. Turning his head, he caught the eyes of Marko’s love.

“I did my one Christmas decoration thing. I’m done.” He said with a voice devoid of emotion.

“Will you put the topper on?” She requested, with a sweet voice. But David stood strong.

“Have Laddie do it. He’s already up that high anyways.” David shrugged off her hand with a grumble.

“The tree topper is usually reserved for the head of the family, David.” Dwayne inserted quietly. By now, everyone was staring at the vampire with his back still turned. The look on Dwayne’s face was unreadable, but David knew. He knew that he would not have told him that information unless it was true. Letting his eyes rake over the faces of everyone else, David saw the same look in their eyes. With a sigh, he turned back and got the star topper out of the box. Looking at the top, David flew up to be level with the top of the tree, and ever so gently, lowered the topper down. When he returned to the ground, no one could peel their eyes from the tree, including him. It was just what they needed to complete the magnificent work of art. Marko wrapped his arm around David’s shoulders, and released him with a comforting squeeze. Maybe celebrating Christmas was not as bad as he thought.

[nuvolisa]

Branches of a timeline

It was six AM when Marinette woke up in a cold sweat and with tears in her eyes. It had worked, and the awful nightmare she just had was just proving her theory. Without wasting any second, just throwing on the least atrocious outfit she could find in two minutes, she decided to transform. She had to do this, even though she hated the idea with her whole heart. Ladybug swallowed her bile and fled out of her balcony.

Ladybug rushed to Alix’s house, sprinting through the buildings of Paris with her yo-yo and a face of pure terror. Her eyes were bulging and her skin was as pale as porcelain: from her face, one would’ve thought it was the end of the World. And they wouldn’t be too far off, just not in the way any of them could ever be expecting.

Truth was that she had managed to contact the creator of the miraculi through her kwagatama. And the mage had terrible, terrible news to share, when she finally did.

“We need to go back in time, now!” she screamed at the girl, who looked at her like she was seeing someone being possessed by demons.

“Calm down girl, I just woke up,” replied the girl, holding out a carrot for her kwami to feed.

“I know, I know, it’s just… I think this is really the end for all of us,” Ladybug explained briefly. The more details she was going to tell, the worst it would be to actually convince the girl to help.

“What is it? Has Hawkmoth come back from the dead?” Alix asked, putting on a pair of jeans. Couldn’t this wait at least until after breakfast.

“There’s a problem in the timeline… it’s bad. Somehow, the entire timeline is wrong. I’ve seen it,” the hero explained with a broken voice. It’s hard to explain such things, things that are bigger than the cosmos.

“Go on.”

Ladybug looked away as Alix put on a shirt. “First, let’s get into the Burrow.”

Alix nodded in understanding, finally calling on her transformation. As the two entered into the ring of light, Marinette took a look around Alix’s room, knowing that it was the last thing she will ever see in this life.

“So?” Bunny asked, with her arms crossed. She really was starving, and she would’ve appreciated if the hero could’ve waited for her to have breakfast.

“Look, I’m going to sound insane. But you know that the miraculi work in mysterious ways, and so I’ve been able to contact the original creator. The first mage who forged the miraculi and all the other powers,” Ladybug started explaining, her hands gesturing around nervously, like she couldn’t contain her nerves in her body.

Bunnyx nodded in acknowledgment. Ladybug took another deep breath.

“He told me that making the gods and the humans interact was a terrible idea. He explained that the fact that the miraculi exist is the reason why we are doomed. That’s because the miraculi are a temporal loop problem: there will be someone in the future who’s going to come back to the creator and teach him how to make them, after he learned what Hawmoth had done. The miraculi existing is a testament to human hubris and stupidity, and the multiverse is going to pay, unless we stop it now!” Ladybug had tears in her eyes, but she didn’t notice. There was a more urgent matter at hand.

Bunnyx looked at her with a sorrowful expression on her face. The gravity of the situation was dooming on her now, and she put a hand to her heart. “B-but that means…”

“… That the current universe we’re living in is going to get destroyed, I know. But we are standing on a paradox, and it’s either now or when it will be too late. You know how dangerous paradoxes are for the multiverse,” continued Ladybug for her.

“How do we do this without creating more paradoxes?” Bunnyx asked.

“We need to go into the future, when the butterfly miraculous holder’s disciple will be tasked to go back in time and teach the mage how to forge the miraculi. Then, we will simply need to block his entrance to the Burrow somehow,” Ladybug explained.

“Sounds like a plan,” said Bunnyx, not entirely convinced about all of this. It was basically a death sentence, but it was either this way or in a much more scenic, awfully disastrous way.

Ladybug pointed at one of the windows, and Bunnyx got closer, rewinding what was going to happen.

The year was 2035, and an older Chris Lahiffe was being sent by a masked woman back in time. For some reason, the brother of their classmate had the rabbit miraculous.

Bunnyx opened the portal, and the two teens showed up in the strange, underground room. As they looked around to pinpoint the location of the young man, they were welcomed by an “old friend”.

“How many years! It’s a pleasure to finally see you again, dark wings fall!”

In front of them was unmistakably Lila, she had been the one to order to Chris to go back in time and ensure that the miraculi could exist. Ladybug tied her up in her yo-yo.

“Fucking piece of trash, of course it could only be you to cause such an awful amount of damage, order him to stop!” She screamed at the top of her lungs.

“Oh, silly. Do you really think I can control him?” the woman replied, with a mocking expression that made Marinette want nothing more than to punch her in the face.

With Lila tied up to her throne, Ladybug and Bunnyx sprinted toward the guy, who had been trying his hardest to understand how the magical clock worked.

They reached him just in time, pulling him back from the portal that would've sent him back in time. Bunnyx gave him a well-assessed hit with her umbrella. "Sorry, Chris," Ladybug said, panting heavily, "The future of the universe depends on this."

Ladybug grabbed the clock from his hands and shot it to the ground, at the same time as Alix did hers. As the two clocks became unusable, the ground behind them started trembling.

Marinette undid her transformation and ran to hug Alix. Tears strolled down their cheeks.

Marinette’s limbs started disappearing into thin air. “It worked,” she whispered, filled with pride, fear and dread. She tried to hug Alix tighter.

Catharsis. Purification. Everything turns white, like in the burrow. Mistakes and errors all wash away as everything gets corrected once more: it has happened a million times, it happens this time too. As the two girls watched each other disappear, the world around them crumble and their stories become nothing more than a possibility in another multiverse entirely, they smiled through the tears.

“I won’t forget you, in any universe,” said Marinette, putting her forehead against the head of the girl.

“You’ll be my hero in every universe,” replied Alix.

Then, it was all white.

Marinette wakes up in her bedroom, opening her eye to see a ray of sunlight come through the roller shutter. It’s just another saturday.

As she walks down the stair into the kitchen, her mother is making breakfast and watching the TV. Her father is intently looking at the newspaper for the latest football news, doing so just to procrastinate having to mow the lawn.

“Good morning sweetie. Did Theo wake up yet?” her maman asks, putting the moka on the stove.

“Mister sleepyhead wouldn’t wake up if an atomic bomb was dropped near him,” Marinette says, serving herself some juice.

“Did you sleep well?” asks her father, his eyes glued to the last PSG match on the paper.

A small smile actually forms on her lips. “You wouldn’t believe the dream I had tonight!”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This is the premises of a new AU I've decided to create, where I give Marinette a regular life without magic and supervillains running around her city :D Hope you like it

[blindrapture]

SATURDAY JUNE 4TH, 2011 (SLCEM)

12:06 AM Well, here we go. Into the depths of the night, in a country whose language I don’t even remotely speak.

12:14 AM It’s pretty tonight. Sure, red like it has been for weeks now, but it’s still pretty.

1:49 AM I’ve made it through “100 Bottles of Paracetamol on the Wall.” Not there yet.

3:01 AM Holy shit, no way. Fucking spidercat. This one’s fucking feral. Fast. I could barely see it move, but I’d recognize those demonic chirps anywhere. Got my crowbar ready. It’s time to do this shit like Gordon fucking Freeman.

3:04 AM EAT SHIT AND DIE

3:05 AM Fucker’s dead. I don’t feel barbaric anymore. Not one bit. Let’s keep moving.

3:13 AM ….motherfucking yes, there’s a car.

3:16 AM This bastard works. Fuck yes.

4:42 AM Berga.

4:45 AM Phil Collins has such a sexy voice. ..sorry, I’m listening to music. :D

4:47 AM D’accord, parked this car, now where am I gonna go? I guess I’ll look around. I mean, how many different people can there be here?

4:53 AM Dear sweet fhqwghads, the Cheat is to the limit. There’s gotta be at least twenty people here in this hotel, completely normal people. Nobody’s noticing me, though, despite my white outfit. These people are all wearing festive clothing.

5:15 AM I was able to find someone who spoke English. He told me this was the local meeting place for the SLCEM Brigada. That’s, uh.. well, it’s something in Spanish. And then “Brigade.” He says his name is Tony Marcado. Says the SLCEMs are gathering for a group meeting tonight. He says many more will be here, and it still won’t even be a quarter of the total number of SLCEMs in Spain. I didn’t realize this many people were surviving and gathering in places like this. It’s pretty heartwarming, a true testament to human will. ;w; Tony says I should rest up for today. The meeting’s gonna be important, and they’ll need all the help they can get with what they have planned. I asked if he knew where Tony Ferdinando was. He says, if he’s not here now, he’ll definitely be here for the meeting. He says Ferdinando’s an important guy. Great. And I have to “convert” him.

5:32 AM Hotel room, oh boy! I love these things. And god, am I knackered. Time for rest, Jordy boy.

1:58 PM I dreamt of a door. Just a door. No scenery, no rooms, just a door. And me. I tried opening the door, but it wouldn’t budge. It wasn’t locked. It just didn’t want to open. I heard a door rattle and then I woke up to find that was someone coming into my room. It’s Marcado. He says his job is to make sure everyone knows about the meeting, so he came in to make sure I was going tonight. 6 PM, he said.

2:22 PM Hot damn, this place has a CD player.

2:30 PM Hear them chanting:"We excavate souls" And taste the lightning Bolting down the deep See the masses See them decompose As up the current Something rides the light “We Excavate” was my all-time favourite metal song for a really long time, you know. Pure fucking Sunsetters classic.

5:13 PM Wow, I just took a nap. What the fuck, so soon after sleeping?

5:41 PM Heading to the lobby now. The meeting’s soon.

5:53 PM Oh my god, there are a lot of people here. It’s hard to move. …nobody showers in the apocalypse. At least I’m not alone in that. But wow, you don’t really notice it until you’re “Pakt Like Sardines in a Tin Can,” to put it one way.

6:00 PM Some guy’s standing on a chair. I think he’s the one giving a speech. Fuck, I just realized I’m in Spain. I can’t understand a word he’s saying.

6:24 PM I think I heard something about dildos.

6:35 PM Okay, now I’m sure he mentioned something about “That buffoon in the white.” I heard “el bufon blanco.” The fuck, just ‘cause I can’t speak your language doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings, guys. ._.

6:43 PM I heard “el bufon blanco” again. Are they actually talking about me? I get the feeling they might not be.

6:50 PM Okay, the meeting’s over. I’m gonna see if Marcado can fill me in on what was said.

7:13 PM So apparently, the SLCEMs have some big attack planned. I asked against whom, he said “fear.” The fuck, I know, right? So he explained that we’re sending a messenger tomorrow to the next town over, Manresa, where he’ll let the SLCEM Brigada there know that this base here is go for the attack. It’s standard procedures, basically. Gotta let the others know that we’re ready, gotta synchronize the attack. So yeah. Then I asked if Ferdinando was here yet. He said he was running late; someone had heard from him. Says he’ll be here tomorrow, no doubt. Great. I’m going back to bed; I’ve been so tired lately.

7:26 PM There’s some pretty young folk here. I just saw a kid who had to be no older than eight.

9:41 PM Someone’s knocking on the door.

9:42 PM It’s that young kid I saw. He said he was too cold, so I said he could come in; this room’s got towels. He didn’t come in, just ran away. …that kid was speaking English.

11:00 PM I haven’t gone to sleep yet. I’ve just been.. I dunno. Looking out at the sky. It’s red, getting dark red. I see the Thunderbirds flying around out there, and I occasionally see ‘lightning’ off in the distance. The world has gotten so quiet. It’s only been two weeks, and the world’s gotten absolutely silent. It seems like the world will never be the same again, and all we can really do is just gather in groups and hope Mistress doesn’t crash our parties.

11:11 PM I wish something good would happen.

(Attached: “Ah, 'We Excavate.’ That was a song written by Degan Allen, actually, rather than Blackwood who usually writes the lyrics. I think he said something about it being based on a dream he had? Some tower of flesh buried at the bottom of the sea, during a transitional World Flood. Lightning strikes the tower, and some flesh rides the lightning up, and this is how God eats, or something. We all had Flood dreams during that time, as we'd just finished Summer Sucks which of course ends with a great era-ending flood. Excavate was a time of dreams and of jazzy jams. I feel a lot of nostalgia for those days now.”)

[PREV LOG] [TABLE OF CONTENTS] [NEXT LOG]

[moodymisty]

So I've been working on the Wrecker fic for a bit now, and I'm gonna start revising the chapters now. Should be out before or on Valentines Day for you all to enjoy <3

But I figured I'd give people a snippet, just for fun. It'll probably end up changing, but we'll see <3 Enjoy!!

---------------

"Hey, you guys just get back?"

Hunter looks up, having been rested his eyes while leaning against the side of the ship with his arms crossed.

"Yeah; We landed only a few standard hours ago."

After nodding to him you look around and notice that Wrecker isn't among them, nor do you hear him close by. When you ask, Tech pulls his nose from his datapad for a moment just long enough to speak, before looking right back down.

“He is currently resting in the ship as per his instructions; He was hit with a high explosive during our mission."

You almost choke on air, eyes darting around at them all before suddenly Hunter butts into view and waives his hands up and down.

"He's fine he's fine, just a little banged up." As much as his sentence might be attempting to soothe you, it really doesn't do much in the end. His hands still held outward away from his body, Hunter turns Tech and gives the crate he's sitting on while doing maintenance work a good kick. It's enough to scoot the crate, and make Tech sport a sour, displeased expression to boot.

"Tech! You couldn't have worded that in a way that wouldn't give her a heart attack?!" Tech appears unphased by all the eyes on him, and simply looks up from his datapad again for only a moment to speak.

"I thought I had 'worded' it sufficiently."

He doesn’t really have much time to reword it however, as you quickly race up the gangplank and turn left, seeing Wrecker slinging is legs off the side of his bunk and looking over at you. He’s currently only clad in his lower body armor, the top has been completely removed showing his bare chest. He’s covered in a moderate amount of bandages and bacta patches, though the actual damage appears to mainly be on his right side.

"Hey! What're you doing here?"

You come close to the side of the bed, and try to avoid being obvious of the way you're checking him over for damage.

He has all of his limbs, which is a good start.

"I could say the same thing about you, Wreck. What happened?" In an attempt to distract from that fact that he is shirtless, you look right at his face and notice a tiny little cut on the right side of his chin.

"Tried to make an explosive out of somethin’ that, wasn't really the best idea, heh." When he sees the worry still all over your face, he quickly leans up more, his boots clanking against the metal floor of the ship.

Sure, it's probably not the worst injury he's had before; His eye is a testament to that, but seeing someone you know hurt right in front of you is far more intense than hearing about it as a fond retelling.

"I uh, heard Tech gave ya’ a bit of a scare," His hand rubs against the back of his neck, the smile he's wearing favoring one side. "It’s not nearly as bad as he made it sound, they didn't even have to dunk me. A little explosion ain’t gonna hurt someone like me." You don’t doubt in the slightest that it would take an incredible feat to down someone like Wrecker, but you hope this serves as a reminder that he isn’t indestructible. He may be close, though.

"You better be thankful they didn’t have to, I don’t know what I would’ve done if I'd found out you were stuck in a bacta tank." You make an angry little face at him, before letting out a nervous, breathy laugh. “I probably would’ve cried, then waited till you woke up to beat you senseless.”

Wrecker laughs; His same deep chested laugh that always warms your heart.

"Don't you even consider cryin’ over me, none of this even hurts." Probably because he has a fair bit of medication in his system, but the sentence serves to soothe you at least a little.

"It better not, or I'll hurt you even worse for being such a blockhead." Wrecker laughs at your spunky sentence, noticing the way you're still attempting to be somewhat serious with him.

"But please Wrecker," Though his face does soften when he notices you're not joking around as much this time, rubbing the side of your own arm.

"Be more careful?" The bandage that wraps just at the crook of his neck moves when he leans his head to one side, giving in on your concern. "I will, I will; Promise. Just for you." That's good enough for you. You just hope before he does something that gormless and bombastic again, he thinks of his own safety first.

"Besides, wouldn't want you to get in an accident and damage that handsome mug of yours."

Wrecker suddenly sits up noticeably straighter, smile dropping into a face much more akin to genuine surprise. You however, quickly go ramrod straight.

Shit! Shit shit shit- I seriously didn't just say that! My big stupid mouth!

"Uh... Well I'll-" You turn around, already halfway out of the Marauder. “See you later!”

[divinegrey]

SMOKE AND MIRRORS / vi x f!reader

POP ROCKS & PUNCHES, part 9

masterlist here

here's the long-awaited (not really) part nine to PR&P! enjoy, everyone! the series is in the final stages of completion and we're nearing the end (sort of)

prompt: smoke and mirrors, oil and water. what do you know now? the answer is more clear than you think it is.

words: 3509

warnings: canon typical cursing

God damn.

The bridge explosion did a number on you, but the grenade fucked up your shield to hell and back. It’d be worthless to fix it with no tools and nothing to repair it, but hell, you’re going to try.

You break off a piece of bent metal from the shield. The mechanism barely functions and you’d be surprised if there’s anything left to salvage from the actual shield itself. It’d done the job of absorbing the grenade’s impact, and frankly, that’s simply a testament to the metal of the shield itself.

“Here you go, sweetheart.”

Mr. Kiramman appears on the balcony, placing a plate of hot food in front of you. Your first gut instinct is to push it away and reject it— why would you trust someone from Piltover? The rational part of you kicks your brain; this is Caitlyn’s dad. If he’s anything like Caitlyn, then you can extend a little bit of trust, right?

“Thank you, Mr. Kiramman,” you say, putting your shield and gauntlet aside. You clear your throat. “And thank you for patching me up last night. I’m— I’m sure that having not one, but two Zaunites show up in your house isn’t the greatest.”

“Nonsense, it was the least I could do. And call me Tobias. I’m not as formal as my wife,” Tobias says with a gentle, fatherly smile that reminds you a little too much of someone you used to know. Tobias takes a seat at the chair adjacent to your own. “The moment Caitlyn heard your voice, she demanded that I bring you inside and help you.”

“She’s good at doing that, isn’t she?” You joke, causing Tobias to laugh in agreement. You take the fork and start eating the food and it melts in your mouth. You chew, then swallow. “I’ll pay you back, somehow. Your kindness won’t be forgotten.”

He leans over and puts a hand on your knee. “You kept my Caitlyn safe. That’s more than enough payment for a lifetime, Rocky.”

You’re tempted to tell him about the time Caitlyn saved your ass from Sevika, but you’re sure he’s already had enough stress as of late. Caitlyn can protect herself, but a part of you is glad that you and Vi were there to help her navigate the Undercity, even if it did lead you three to where you are now.

In a couple of hours, you, Caitlyn, and Vi will be approaching the Council to make a case. It’s a terrifying thought— of all people, you never thought it’d be you to make a stand against the leading clans of Piltover. In fact, you never thought you’d be inside of a Councilor’s house at all.

“Well, I’ll leave you be now,” Tobias says. As he stands, he snaps his fingers and puts a hand on his hip. “Does your bandage need changing?”

“No, I did it when I woke up, thank you though.”

“Alright. Caitlyn will come and get you when it’s time to leave, then,” Tobias says. He swiftly exits the balcony and you turn back to your shield gauntlet.

It’s wrecked, there’s no doubt about that. You’d need a shit ton of scrap metal and tools you’re positive the Kiramman’s don’t have to fix it. You can try and get the folding mechanism to work again so you can carry it with you, but even then, it’ll still be nonfunctioning. For now, you just shovel the rest of the breakfast into your mouth and set it aside. You can at least attempt to get the mechanism functioning before leaving.

Mindlessly, you begin humming a song, whispering the lyrics under your breath.

“Dear friend across the river, my hands are cold and bare,” you sing softly, wrenching a few wires out of place. “Dear friend across the river, I’ll take what you can spare. I ask of you a penny… my fortune it will be.”

It’s a song you could never forget. One of those things ingrained in your brain from years of whispering the lyrics into Powder’s ear at night when she snuggled close to you with her stuffed bunny in her arms. Sometimes, Vi would snuggle with you two— a lump of three skinny bodies clumped together for warmth. Both of them would insist you had the better singing voice.

Your throat bobs with a heavy swallow.

Footsteps come from behind you. You don’t even need to turn your head to know that it’s Vi. From behind, she wraps her arms around you, leaning down to place a healthy smattering of kisses on your cheek and jaw. The smile that comes to your face is giddy, and for a brief moment in time, you forget everything else other than Vi.

She sits down on the other side of the couch beside you on the balcony. The air is crisp, ripe with the early morning breeze filtering through. Your hair is, admittedly, still a bit damp from last night’s shenanigans that bring a blush to your face. Vi watches you tinker with your gauntlet for a few moments, then pulls out two freshly washed strips of cloth.

The springs of the mechanism retract, folding the remains of the Sentinel shield back into the gauntlet.

“Fucking finally,” you say, putting the tech down.

“I don’t know how the fuck you just did that,” Vi says, a brow raising. “But it was kinda hot.”

“Shut it,” you remark. You turn your body and hold out your hands. “May I?”

“Sure,” Vi says softly. “You remember how to do this?”

“How could I forget?” you reply with a raised brow. “Start at the wrist to protect the hand.” You move the cloth seamlessly over her skin. “Then once you’ve got enough there, wrap the knuckles, starting at the pinky.” You smooth out any and all wrinkles as you wind the cloth around Vi’s hands, desperately trying to banish the thoughts of those fingers inside of you last night. “Wrap the hand again to secure it, then come down to the wrist.”

When you tie the end neatly, you find that Vi isn’t looking at her hand, she’s looking at you. It’s the kind of look that makes your insides start to melt, all ooey-gooey and ridiculous. Younger you would absolutely be rioting if she knew that Vi would ever admire you like this. You just smile and wrap Vi’s other hand before you get any more distracted.

“Hey, Rocky?”

“Hm?”

Vi exhales. “Are we… dating? Or are we still just friends?”

You finish the second arm wrap. With them on, Vi’s confidence visibly shifts. She looks more assured, stronger posture and hardened eyes. To that, you say, “If you want to be my girlfriend, then I would be more than ecstatic. If not, then that’s okay too. Having you here is enough, Vi.”

Vi’s eyes on you are nothing short of warm. She leans forward and presses her lips to yours. There’s a mintiness to her breath— she must've brushed her teeth— and you smile into the kiss, your heart full of wonder because this woman has you by the throat and you don’t even think she knows it. The answer goes unsaid, Vi’s physical nature taking the lead and making your chest giddy.

“It’s about time.”

You pull away and look over your shoulder to see Caitlyn in the doorway, arms folded over her chest. There’s an obvious smile on her face.

“So are you two together, or are we still playing oblivious to our feelings?” Caitlyn steps onto the balcony, sitting down on the chair that Tobias sat in.

“We’re girlfriends,” Vi says and she’s never sounded so damn assured in her life. You’re sure that the look on your face betrays absolutely everything because Caitlyn is laughing. Vi sneaks her hand into yours, and though the air soon becomes filled with chatter about the game plan of the Council, you feel calm. Grounded.

You have a feeling that it’s because of the woman next to you.

***

The Council Chamber is even more daunting in person. Caitlyn takes the lead, walking in front of you and Vi. She’s in her Enforcer regalia, shoulders squared back and her chin held high. On the other hand, you’re wearing your mended pants and the only shirt from Caitlyn’s closet that wasn’t ridiculously frilly or expensive, considering your former clothes were blown to smithereens.

“Councilors,” Cassandra Kiramman says, holding her hand to the door. “My daughter has a unique insight into our situation.”

“Thank you,” Caitlyn says primly, standing tall. You share a glance with Vi behind Caitlyn and the slightest purse of her lips tells you that this is our only chance. Caitlyn clears her throat. “Councilors, this is Vi, born in the Undercity—” she gestures to the pink-haired woman, “— and Rocky, a migrant from Noxus who lives in the Undercity.”

How the hell did she get that right? Regardless, you take a small step forward to show yourself. You’re putting everything you have on the table right now— if anyone in this room is smart, they’ll make the connection. If they even care to know who Pop Rocks is at all. When you survey the table, you catch the eye of Councilor Medarda. She’s staring at you with some intrigue in her hazel, gold-flecked eyes.

“Even though we failed them in countless ways, Vi and Rocky risked everything to show me what life is truly like in the Undercity,” Caitlyn continues, the eloquence of her words and speech passing over the room like warm water. “People are starving, sick, ravaged by Shimmer. They live in constant fear of the coordinated efforts of violent crime lords. One man leads these efforts— Silco.”

The room is sent into a squabble, the Councilors speaking out of turn and out of place as the finger has been pointed to Silco. You watch with an annoyed eye roll because how do these people ever get anything done if they’re constantly arguing.

“We’ve done investigations of Silco,” a councilor pipes up.

“And who led these investigations?” Caitlyn replies with a sharp eyebrow raised. The answer hangs in the air.

“And what does this Silco even want from us?” Another Councilor asks. You step forward.

“Silco wants independence from Piltover. He calls the Undercity the Nation of Zaun,” you say, much to the displeasure of the Councilors. To your surprise, none of them say a damn thing against you, just staring at each other with wide, confused eyes.

A man speaks up— Jayce Talis, the Man of Progress himself. He holds up an extremely familiar looking grenade in his hands, but you see the wires have been cut. It’s disarmed; a small sigh slips through your mouth. He asks, “What about these? Do you know who made them?”

For the first time in a little while, Caitlyn looks caught off guard by the question.

“Her name is Jinx,” Vi says, speaking up for the first time since you all walked inside.

“This… Jinx has the gemstone?” Jayce continues, eyebrows raised.

“She does,” you answer. “We fought briefly and she had it.”

Jayce puts the grenade down on the table in front of him. “Then we have to go in by force.”

Councilor Medarda says with ire in her eyes, “That could trigger war.”

You know a Noxian accent when you hear it.

“There are good people down there,” Caitlyn argues.

A Councilor in red clothes scoffs. “And bad people.”

Beside you, Vi starts shifting restlessly. Her hands are clenching and unclenching and you make the immediate decision to grab one, intertwining your fingers and squeezing the tension out of the muscles in her knuckles. Only then does she seem to relax, but only by a fraction.

“Even if we wanted to invade, they have Shimmer,” a robotic Councilor says, raising their fist and curling it.

Jayce frowns. “We have Hextech.”

Caitlyn looks absolutely appalled by Jayce’s words as if she’s staring at someone she doesn’t even know. She told you this morning of her close friendship with Jayce, but right now, it isn’t looking close at all. “What happened to you?”

“We’ve been talking about talking for weeks now, they are still cleaning blood off the bridge,” Jayce says. If only he knew, you think to yourself, flashes of the fight replaying in your mind. It’s Vi’s turn to reassure you, tapping her thumb on your knuckles to bring you out of your mind. Jayce continues, standing straight. “When do we say enough is enough?”

Councilor Medarda puts her hands on the table, nearly glowering at the Man of Progress. “Jayce, you don’t know war. I do. It must be our last resort. There may be a diplomatic solution.”

The Councilors start talking again, voices clattering over each other as fingers are pointed and words are thrown left and right. You’re starting to get a headache from all of this, and when you turn to look at Vi, you can practically see the steam coming out of her ears. Her shoulders are pulled back and down, the veins in her arms flexed and her jaw set.

“This is insane!” Vi shouts. The whole room goes silent, turning to look at the Zaunite. She pulls away from you, stepping towards the center of the room. “Did you learn nothing? You can’t talk to Silco! He hates you. All of you! Everything you stand for! He will never back down.”

You walk past Caitlyn. “She’s right. Vi was put in Stillwater for six years because of your former Sheriff, but in the span of a few days, she’d seen every inch of the hell that Silco has made the Undercity because of Piltover’s need to keep them choked down. I’ve lived there for my entire life. My lungs have breathed their fair share of toxic fumes and until Silco gets the freedom he wants from you… he won’t stop. He will keep killing anyone to get what he wants, including his own people.”

Your words combined with Vi’s vitriol is enough to have all of the Councilors speechless. The room is dead silent, your shoulder side by side with Vi’s, and you feel her fingers tap your wrist. The truth hangs over everyone’s head like a knife, poised and ready to fall.

You’re not sure who says it.

“Enforcers, please escort them out.”

You should’ve known the Council never would’ve listened. They never listen to anyone but themselves. With a sharp huff through your nose, you turn around. Vi waves her hand at them dismissively, gritting out, “Forget it. We remember where your fancy damn door is.”

It’s pouring when you both reach the outside, and the coldness of the water does well to cool the heat roiling beneath your skin. You’re pissed, just like Vi.

“Nothing’s ever gonna change, is it?” Vi asks, the water soaking the strands of her hair and turning them a dark hue of pink. You feel the droplets sliding over your skin, a few of them going into your mouth.

Even the rain up here is better than it is in Zaun.

“Not unless the entire world burns to ashes,” you say. You keep walking down the street.

Streetlights overhead illuminate the way. It doesn’t come as a surprise when Vi grabs your hand. You’re all you have left of your former life. With every second that ticks by, hopelessness creeps into your body. You recall the last time you felt like this— the empty hole of dread in your chest.

It was when you were crumpled in the alleyway, bleeding out from a wound given to you by someone you never thought capable of such bloodshed. The knot in your throat makes it hard to breathe and you don’t even realize you’re crying because of the rain pelting your shoulders and causing goosebumps on your skin. You cling tighter to Vi and it goes without saying that you’d be a wreck without her here.

She’s quiet.

You lean into her.

“Any ideas?” You ask softly.

“N—”

“Rocky! Vi! There you are!” The sound of Caitlyn’s voice sends you both on guard, faces neutralizing as you turn to see the Enforcer running down the street towards her, rain soaking her clothes and smearing her inky blue hair to her face. “Where are you going?”

“I don’t know,” Vi says, her words hostile. “Back where we came from.”

“Probably what everyone in that room wants us to do, right?” You say, licking your teeth and exhaling.

“I can fix this,” Caitlyn pleads, taking a step toward you two. The genuineness is there behind her eyes— you know it’s true. There isn’t a part of her that isn’t kind. She’s got a heart of gold.

Too little too late, though.

“You don’t get it, Cupcake. This is how things are. How they always will be,” Vi says, turning to look at Caitlyn with her brows pulled together. For a moment, her resolve flickers. “I was so stupid to think it could change.”

“Zaunites are stubborn, just like their city,” you say, trying to ease some of the tension out of the air. You point to the Council Chamber. “It’s going to take them being in agreement in order for anything to change. That many people can’t agree on one thing— it’s why Zaun functions with one leader, even if he is the dirt underneath our boots.” You swallow. “Some of us aren’t much better than him.”

Caitlyn frowns. “We— we can come up with another plan, there has to be another way. We have to try, right?”

“We tried, okay?” Vi exhales. “We had Rocky, we had Ekko and the Firelights. We had some of the best fighters on our side down there and it still wasn’t enough. Topside and bottom. Oil and water. That’s all there is.”

The silence is thick.

“But…” Caitlyn looks down at the ground. She blinks. Her face hardens for all but a second before it crumbles. “What about us? We— we work so well together, don’t we?”

“Oil and water,” Vi says again. “Wasn’t meant to be.”

“Well, technically, oil and water can mix,” you chip in. They both look at you. “You just need an emulsifier, which will help the two liquids mix—”

“Rocky.” Vi’s voice is exasperated.

“Right, sorry.”

Vi doesn’t look too annoyed at you ruining her metaphor, which is a good sign. She glances at Caitlyn but looks far too pained to even do it for more than two seconds. “You tried, Cupcake. Can’t fix what's been broken for years.”

Vi turns and starts walking away. Intrinsically, you know you need to follow, but god damn it. You look at Caitlyn and put your hand on her arm.

“She’s right. You did try, but sometimes… these kinds of things are too big to take on by yourself,” you say gently. “I’ve been trying for years.”

You drop her arm before she can move, walking backward. The way her face sits in an expression of pain breaks your heart, but you won’t ever be a Piltovan. Your allegiances lay with your home. Your home isn’t Zaun. It’s Vi. You know that for a fact. You make a small salute, then turn around to follow Vi, leaving Caitlyn Kiramman in the rain.

You don’t stop walking until you start nearing the bridge.

Vi stares at it.

“Did you hurt her?”

“No,” you answer truthfully. “Ekko almost had her. She tried detonating a grenade on us. I used my shield to cover it and blew myself off the bridge.”

“Shit,” Vi says. She pushes her hair back. “Shit, Rocky, I should’ve stayed with you.”

You put your hand on her cheek. “We hashed this out already. What happened can’t be changed. We’re still here, together. That’s what matters. I love you, okay?”

Vi stares at you for some time, soaking the words in like the rain pelting her shoulders. Finally, she nods. She leans down, sliding her hands around your waist and pressing her lips to yours. Despite the coldness of the water soaking your clothes and skin through, her body is warm. You dreamed of a moment like this, kissing the person you love in the rain. Kid-you would be giddy to know that it’s Vi kissing you like this. Tender. Soft.

Everything she feels she isn’t.

You slide your hands into her hair, holding her close as the rains rage on.

You’ve never met a woman like her in your life.

You’re not a huge believer in fate and love at first sight, but you realize that it wasn’t love at first sight a few days ago. It was when you first met her. A special kind of love, harbored for individuals who grow close together as they grow up themselves. A special kind of love that didn’t flicker out when you were torn from her.

“I love you too,” Vi whispers into your mouth. You smile and peck her lips. Vi opens her eyes and you’re looking into pools of grey. “I have an idea.”

“I’m all ears.”

~~~~~

A/N: looks like there's gonna be 4 more parts left to the series! that's including the epilogue, but things might change

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Desperate Measures.

Pairing: Yandere!Kaeya/Reader (Genshin Impact).

Word Count: 2.2k.

TW: Kidnapping, Emotional Manipulation, Implied Stalking, and Delusional Mindsets.

Kaeya was a man, distracted.

Distracted. Divided. Not inattentive, but pulled away from his responsibilities by a force he couldn’t name and couldn’t say he cared for, either. He wasn’t a stranger to romantic inclinations — fantasies, sudden flings, slow-burning inclinations that died the moment his attention was called elsewhere. Predictably, the few relationships he allowed himself were short-lived, at best distasterous at worst, but he didn’t have a problem with that. If anything, Kaeya appreciated it. He’d always thought of company as optional, and what little loneliness he was still capable of feeling could be drowned with a generous glass of wine. He wasn’t one to linger. He tried not to overstay his welcome. He’d been sentimental, once, too emotional for his own good, and he’d learned his lesson. He didn’t intend to change.

He didn’t want to change.

And yet, here he was.

Distracted.

He couldn’t think. He couldn’t focus. It was all he could do to look like he might’ve been trying to read the most recent document left on his desk – this one from Jean, a directive for the younger knights or legislation she needed him to review or another vague, important report that he probably would’ve dealt with weeks ago, if he’d been able to concentrate.

He made a half-hearted effort to straighten his back as the door to his office began to open, but Kaeya dropped the act quickly, abandoning it completely by the time he heard the sound of heeled boots against hollow tile, caught a glimpse of a familiar (albeit, rarely used) catalyst, searched for eyes and found the cover of a thin book, instead, your face still buried in your newest novel as you stepped through the threshold, not bothering to knock. It was you. He should’ve known it would be. Who else did he deserve?

You, Lisa’s new assistant. You, the latest addition to the Knights of Favonius. You, his current, infuriating, unshakable fixation.

You, the new recruit who hadn’t paid him so much as a passing glance since your arrival, much to Kaeya’s frustration.

You didn’t look at him. You rarely ever did, but it hurt more than it usually did, today, as you dropped another form onto his desk, letting it replace the greeting you’d forgotten to offer. “Lisa needs you to sign this,” You started, laying out your priorities clearly, a skill Kaeya was beginning to resent. “It’s just next year’s budget. If you don’t want to read it, I think I’ll be able to look the other way.”

He glanced over the rows of numbers, the messy hand-writing, the columns of meaningless gibberish that blended together into a mess of ink and digits, and took your suggestion, scrawling his name across the only blank line. It was a lost cause, especially with you in the room. Especially with your unoccupied hand resting on his desk, your fingertips idly tapping an unsteady rhythm into the wood, and all he could think about was who he’d be willing to kill to feel that hand pressed against his cheek.

He considered asking you, for a moment, giving you an order and hoping you'd absent-mindedly obey. He thought about touching you, or running his fingers through your hair, or pulling you into his lap and mumbling sweet-nothings into your ear until someone else dragged you away.

He thought about a lot of things. Then, he said, “I take it your silence comes at a price?”

“Do I seem that selfish to you?” You were selfish. You had to be selfish. If you weren’t, then surely you would’ve been kind enough to put him out of his misery months ago. “I like helping people. Just remember this when I need a favor from you.”

“I’m sure we could work something more immediate out,” He went on, but you were already starting towards the door, calling the conversation to a close before Kaeya could begin to finish. In the back of his mind, something flared, the urge to catch your wrist, to go after you, to put himself between you and the only exit and refuse to move until you looked at him, but he forced it down, swallowing the temptation before it could eclipse his common sense. He couldn’t be impulsive. He couldn’t make rash decisions. He wasn’t prepared to deal with how difficult that would make things, not now.

Not yet.

“Join me for a drink?” He tried, again, attempting to sound unbothered. Nonchalant, casual, normal. Like he wasn’t itching to burn every book you’d touched. “I know you don’t have anything better to--”

“Another night, Captain.”

And just like that, you were gone, leaving Kaeya’s muttered response to echo through his empty office.

“Of course.”

~

Kaeya was a man, desperate.

Like a starving dog. Like a traveler who hadn’t seen water in thirty days. Like a distraught, distressed, disturbed knight, wandering through a maze of a library, cursing the existence of every shelf that separated him from you. He knew where you'd be. You were a creature of habit, and he’d already had more than enough time to memorize your routine. He’d had enough time to memorize everything about you, as ashamed as he was to admit it. It was a testament to his devotion, to how much time he’d spent trying and failing to win your favor.

It was evidence of how pathetic he’d gotten, over the course of his one-sided pursuit.

You were in your usual spot – tucked into the far corner of the library, perched on the edge of a windowsill, your attention monopolized by the tattered scroll spread across your lap. You were still pouring over it by the time he reached you, slumping against the nearest wall, taking in how brilliantly the muted sunlight looked as it danced across your skin. He didn’t try to hide the way he stared, anymore. He was long past worrying that you’d care enough to notice. Your hair was unkempt, proof that’d you slept in the archives again, if you’d slept at all. Your lips were bleeding, too, the lower one chewed raw and split down the middle, but it might’ve been stranger if they weren’t. It must’ve been a nervous tick, but Kaeya found it cute. Kaeya found it endearing. Kaeya found everything about you endearing, and to the archons, he wanted to see those lips wrapped around his co--

And he hated it. He found everything about you endearing, and he hated it. That was all.

He sighed, the sound airy, exhausted. You didn’t look up, but that was fine. It would’ve only hurt him further if someone as simple as that drew out your concern. “I’m in love with you.”

There was a hum, soft and contemplative. A rather generous response, by your standards. “I’ve noticed.”

“You’re all I think about.” It was an awkward confession, one he’d already used a hundred different times. He didn’t care. He’d use it a hundred more, if he had to. “I’m a wreck. I can barely remember my own name, and some days I can’t even do that. I can’t fight, I can’t eat, I can hardly breathe. Every morning, I wonder what it would be like to wake up to your smile, and every night, I stare at my ceiling and loath myself because I’m not holding you in my arms. For fuck’s sake, just yesterday, I almost kissed Albedo because the chemicals he was working with reminded me of the way your favorite kind of flower smells, and I’m just so fucking desperate, I convinced myself that was the closest I’d ever come to kissing you.”

He was rambling, by the end, panting, yelling, but you only blinked when he was done, once, then twice. Your dull nails bit into the edges of your scroll, but you didn’t seem to mind, nor did you move to roll it up as you finally turned to face him, the confusion written clearly across your expression. “You kissed Albedo?”

“You don’t get it,” He said, and you nodded in agreement. “You don’t fucking get it.”

“I think I do,” You admitted, more earnestly. Your gaze dropped back to the ground, and instantly, Kaeya deflated. “I just… I just don’t think it’d work out, if I’m being honest. I’m still new. I still have to give everyone else a reason to trust me, and I don’t think it’s in my best interest to start a relationship with one of my superiors so early on.” You paused, laughing to yourself, and something in Kaeya’s chest tightened. It was the happiest he’d been since he met you, and he still felt like you’d pushed a sword through his heart and twisted. “But, you don’t really want a relationship, do you? You’re just bored, and you need something to fixate on. I’m the most available option, so...” You trailed off, finishing your sentence with a vague, stilted sweeping gesture. “It’ll be easier for both of us, this way. I like you, Captain, but I don’t like you enough to put myself through that.”

It was all he could do to remember how to open his mouth. Once he did, the words came stumbling out on their own.

“Of course.”

~

Kaeya was a man, determined.

Determined might’ve been the wrong word for it. Too soft, too suggestive, the impression too positive and the meaning too vague. ‘Depraved’ might’ve suited him better, but that was too harsh, too primitive, and he’d like to think he’d been as gentle as anyone could expect him to be, given your stubbornness. He’d tried to be gentle. He’d wanted to be gentle. If he was going to do this to you, he could at least do it gently. You deserved that much, at least.

Or, maybe you didn’t. Maybe you didn’t deserve any of this.

He couldn’t really make up his mind, about that.

“Lisa?”

And he was gentle, more so than he had to be. Sure, you were on the floor, bare stone already beginning to chafe at your skin, but the shackles around your wrists were padded, and he’d given you enough slack to sit down, to ball yourself up, to act like it’d never crossed your mind that he’d resort to something so… easily misinterpreted. The blindfold was, similarly, an act of mercy. You’d panic if you woke up like this, chained to a wall in someone else’s cellar, and Kaeya didn’t want that. You needed time, and he could give you that. He would give you that. Even if it pained him to stay at arm’s length.

“Amber?”

He wanted to touch you. It’d be easy, now, easier than it’d ever been before. You wouldn’t be able to push him away, and even if you tried to, he could always overpower you. Take you by the neck, pin you against the floor, leave you shaking and trembling and begging, pleading with a captor you couldn’t see. He’d find a way to make it up to you, later on. He’d find a way to lie, to smile, to make it better, even if he’d failed to time and time again, out there. But, this would be different. You wouldn’t be able to cling to your excuses, and he’d be able to show you how much he cared, how much he wanted this, how much he loved you. This would be better.

“Kaeya?”

See? You were already coming around.

Your voice was already soft, hesitant, a sliver of a whisper that was constantly on the verge of dying out completely. You were trying not to make noise, trying not to seem as terrified as you really were, but he could hear the way your breath hitched as he took a step forward, your restraints rattling as you curled into yourself. You couldn’t hide from him, but you wanted to. That much was obvious. You didn’t want this.

But, he did. More than you could ever want to run away from it.

He wanted to touch you, but he held himself back. Instead, he only kneeled in front of you, letting himself linger for a moment before he spoke. “I’m here, love.”

“Where are we?” You were afraid, too scared to put the pieces together. Not while you could still hope there was another explanation. Not while you could still deny the apparent. “My head hurts, and I can’t--”

“I know, and I’ll make it up to you.” This time, he let himself reach out, cupping your cheek and chuckling as you tried to shy away. The two of you could work on that, later on. He could live with the guilt if he let himself enjoy it, now. “Just give me a moment, alright? Just a second, then I’ll take care of you.”

You opened your mouth, then you closed it again. Kaeya wondered if you’d be bold enough to refuse if he did try to kiss you, or hold you, or go further than the fleeting touches he’d swore would keep him satisfied, at first, at least. He wondered if he’d care, when you did. “Are… are you going to hurt me?”

He wanted to reassure you. He wanted to promise he’d be patient, that he’d understand if you lashed out, that violence wasn’t an option he was willing to consider, but he couldn’t, like this, could he? He didn’t want to hurt you, but he’d never wanted to kidnap you, either, not until you made it obvious he didn’t have another choice. He didn’t want to stoop so low, he didn’t want you to hate him, but…

But, he was lying again, wasn’t he?

To tell the truth, he couldn’t remember the last time he genuinely cared whether or not you loved him back.

You stifled a scream as his hand dropped to your jaw, his grip tightening as he jerked you forward, just close enough to wrap his arm around your waist, to bury his face in the side of your neck, to get a taste of what you’d deprived him of. It wasn’t enough, he doubted it’d ever be enough, but he had you. He had you, he was close to you, and he had you. That had to be enough, for now.

“We’ll see.”

[yesimwriting]

The Promise of Rain, blurb 2

The Promise of Rain (part 2?? technically) 

A/n I was not originally planning a second part for this but some people wanted it and this idea came to me and it works better with the context of ‘The Promise of Rain’ but it can technically be read as a stand alone :))

Anyways this might turn into a small series of kinda connected blurbs that are all kind of canon with each other but aren’t necessarily connected except for the reader’s background (the reader is a very sunshine-y person and knows Kaz bc she’s a runaway princess that he was hired to bring back home but she managed to convince him to let her work for him instead)

--

The night air had left me with a chill that made me want nothing more than to have my covers draped over me as I read. I’m normally more sociable after a job, especially after such a simple and safe ending, but a lot of tonight had left me wanting to be alone. 

Well, not truly alone. The company of my books is always welcomed, but tonight I can’t seem to find much comfort within the pages. After almost every paragraph, I find myself distracted by gusts of wind and thoughts of the heavy, silver clouds that seem to make up tonight. A part of me longs for the rain. I know it’s ridiculous to expect rain each time I desire some sense of comfort, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want it. Especially when the sky so clearly implies it. 

“This must be the fifth time I’ve come here and you’ve been reading.” Kaz’s sudden appearance is almost enough to shake away my lingering somberness. 

I roll my eyes slightly, turning my attention back to the page in front of me. “That observation is just a testament to how often you come in here.” 

His glare is half hearted, a look I’d find endearing if I was less annoyed. “Where else am I going to find a reminder that good people exist in Ketterdam?” 

I think he may have a sixth sense that warns him when I’m treading the line between being annoyed and displeased. Everytime I find myself mad at him in a way that makes me want to avoid him instead of yell at him, Kaz makes some ridiculously heart-melting comment. He steps further into the room. I don’t miss the way he eyes my stretched out legs. Ever since the conversation we had after he woke up after an injury, we’ve fallen into the unmentioned habit of silently inviting the other to stay by moving to make room for them. 

It had started the day after the conversation in which Kaz had admitted that he wanted me to stay with him. He had been sitting on the small couch while discussing the details of a job. Shortly after I walked in he made a point of shifting so that he was clearly on one side of the couch. I didn’t think much about sitting down, but Inej and Jesper exchanged a look. 

Now, though, I keep my legs stretched out on the bed. He eyes my position on the bed, something grim crossing his features. 

“It might rain tonight.” 

He knows me so damn well. I hate it. “I hope so.”

I turn my head, analyzing the way the world seems to be on the cusp of something. I stare at the silver clouds until I feel something hard tap my leg. The tap is firm but not painful. I’m quick to look at Kaz as he lowers his cane. The mention of rain had been a distraction. 

“You distracted me on purpose.” 

“The first rule of the Barrel is to always be prepared.” There’s a slight uptilt to his lips, something I’ve learned to interpret as a sign of teasing. 

How is he so easy to be around one second and so cold the next? I resist a smile. “I’ll take notes.” 

Kaz ignores my passive aggressive tone. His focus seems to be on my legs that have still not moved to offer him a place next to me. “You wear your emotions too openly.” Great, he’s going to make us talk about it. “What reason could you possibly have to be mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you.” It’s a partial truth. 

His expression harshens. “Don’t lie.” 

“I’m not thrilled with you, but I don’t think that’s the same as being mad.” 

Kaz lets out a partial sigh. “No, they’re not the same.” Such an early concession feels like a trap. “With you, the first option is worse.” I don’t have anything to say to that. “Is this because of what I said to Jesper?” 

My posture straightens on instinct. “He wants your validation more than he’d ever admit and I understand that expressing praise isn’t exactly something you do, but would it kill you to not actively insult him?” 

“I didn’t say anything that was wrong. He thinks he’s a gambler but he’s just someone born for losses.” The look I give him must mean something to him, because Kaz is quick to tact on, “That doesn’t make him less valuable of an asset or less relatively dependable.” 

I eye him cautiously, the slightest bit of vulnerability playing at his features. “Don’t look at me like that--and don’t tell me that. Jesper’s the one who could use the occasional reminder from you that you hold him to any regard with positive connotations.” His lips press together like he’s thinking about scolding me for scolding him. “It’s only because I know you care more about Jesper than you’d ever let on.” 

“Jesper’s esteem can handle the blow.” The curtness of his voice is a blow in its own sense. “And he didn’t exactly deserve to be in my good graces after what he did tonight.” 

My sigh is not weighted enough to match Kaz’s newfound fountain of emotion. “We were successful--”

“He left you.” I didn’t know Kaz’s voice was capable of such harshness. “I paired him with you, and he left you--and you almost didn’t make it.” I let the weight of his words take up all the available space in the room, keeping the silence that follows them until some of the heaviness has dissipated. “He could have cost me one of my best people.”

Oh. His harshness, his unwarranted coldness, had been a manifestation of his concern. For me. Guilt knots my stomach. Potential words that may offer Kaz some sort of support raise and die back down in my throat. Kaz turns towards the door. 

“Kaz.” He pauses. There’s a long moment in which I think he won’t turn around, but finally, he does. I tuck my legs beneath me, forcing myself to sit up a little straighter. “I told Jesper to leave because I knew the job would have failed if he had been trapped in that room with me.” I drop my gaze towards the window. “I was right, the job was successful, and I got out in time so it was worth it.”

“You risked your safety?” The harsh facet of his being is making its return in full force. 

“For the job,” I’m careful to keep my words factual, “It’s what we’re supposed to do.”

Kaz’s jaw locks. “When I said that keeping you near me would ruin you this is what I meant.” 

Is it really this big of a deal? I made it out. “Kaz.”

“This wasn’t my best idea.” His words are leached of anything. “You’re going back home. Tomorrow I’ll arrange the voyage myse--” 

“Kaz Brekker you may get to live your life doing anything you want but you don’t get to control mine.” My chin raises an inch, an instinctual act of subtle rebellion. “I am not going back there, even if I’m technically indebted to you because you didn’t return me to my father but that does not mean I’ll--”

“I’m not trying to control you.” His words are sharp, boarding on a yell. “A job like that one wasn’t worth you.” 

From Kaz, I know those words are heavy. There’s a lot of things I could say to that. I could tell him that I wanted to do something for him. I could say that I appreciate him telling me that. I could even say that in his own way, Kaz giving Jesper a hard time because he left me, is kind of cute in a misguided way. The thing is I think all of these responses will make things worse. 

“Kaz,” I keep my voice as steady as possible, “I’m fine, you’re fine, it all worked out.” Scratching the back of my arm, I exhale gently. “I’ll be more careful next time, I promise.” 

I watch him carefully, there’s a slight slump to his shoulders as he exhales. Is the fight leaving him so easily? He walks further into the room. “You better.” He sits down in the space I provided for him slowly. “If you’re not you’ll have worse things to worry about than anything that can happen to you on a job.” He moves his cane forward easily, tapping my knee in a swift motion. 

I roll my eyes at the mock threat. “They do say that there’s nothing to fear in the Barrel like the Dirtyhands.” 

“Remember that.” Any edge in his voice is forced. I fight against a smile that seems to always want to break across my face whenever I think I see something resembling lightness in Kaz. 

“I don’t think I could forget anything about you.” 

He turns his head slightly. “You should.” 

“Too bad.” 

Kaz leans his back against the wall, untensing slightly. “I think you just like disagreeing with me.” 

There’s no point in lying about it. “Only because when you argue with me you give me this really particular look.” 

“A look?” 

Adding insult to injury, I smile. “Sometimes you look like you’re too focused on being angry, like you’re compensating for something.” 

Kaz lets out a bitter sigh. “Maybe if you were less of a puppy I wouldn’t have to--”

The laugh that escapes is most definitely a mistake. “Did you just call me a puppy?” I don’t give him a chance to reply, laughter taking over again. “I mean this in the least argumentative way possible--but you’re so weird sometimes.” 

He rolls his eyes, tensing. “I’m leaving.”

I stifle the rest of my laughter. “No. I was--I was kidding!” I keep my eyes on Kaz, expecting some type of annoyed glare, but his expression is a lot more weighted than that. Odd. “Kaz?” 

“You need to be more careful.” I understand Kaz’s pause as something he does before saying something outside of his nature. “I’m not asking you this as a Crow or a Dreg.” 

On instinct, my posture straightens. “I promised and I meant it.” 

“Sometimes I wish I could believe in Saints,” his voice has taken off a distant quality, almost fragile, “That way I could believe something existed to help what matters.” 

Oh. “You never fail, even if I didn’t believe in Saints I’d believe in you.” 

“You’re wasting your faith.” The sound of lightning cracking is almost enough to make me jump. The rain finally came. 

I know I’ll never convince him that that’s not true. “I don’t think so, but that’s why it’s called faith.” 

“I have faith in some things.” His expression is far off. 

“Like what?” 

Kaz’s eyes find the window. “People that find meaning in the rain.” 

Something in my chest swells. “You’re like the rain.”

We sit there in silence, watching raindrops glide down the window. “What were you reading?” 

The question has me dropping my gaze to the forgotten book on my lap. “I stole this book from the palace before I left. It was my mom’s favorite, she’s read it so much the spine’s completely cracked and the cover is practically falling off.” 

“Hm…” He mumbles. “Read some, the books read in a palace must be worthwhile.” 

A part of me wants to tell him that elitism has no place in literature, but his request leaves me frozen. I nod once, turning to the first page of the book. “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife--” 

“Your upbringing makes sense--” 

“You can’t judge it off the first sentence,” he’s insufferable, “It’s setting up irony, and if you’re going to complain--” 

He lets out a conceding sigh. “I’m listening, I’m not interrupting.” 

I keep my eyes on him for a second longer than I should. “Okay.” Dropping my gaze back to the book, I adjust my grip on the worn paperback, “Good.” 

And then I keep reading. 

--

@theincredibledeadlyviper @grishaverse7 @lonelystarship @mentally-in-northern-italy @uhanddreag 

[luimagines]

Coul I request the chain reacting to meeting the reader who is Wild's sibling? (If background is needed shrieks science and them whatever purchase did so the reader is just sorta- 15-28 )

Masterlist

I don't understand the second sentence but I think I can infer what you're trying to say. And even then, I came up with a backstory that more less fixes it regardless so yay!

Wild is everyone's favorite chaotic creative sibling!

And I went for older sibling because reasons and just assume that sibling! Reader is in their early twenties.

Content under the cut!

You woke up one day in Hateno village, quietly aware of the silence that echoed through your house.

You miss your brother.

Not that he was here often with his Goddess given assignment nor did he even know who you were for the first half of it.

What a day that was.

Your little brother back from the dead, scars and all and then some... but he had no idea who you were.

It hurt to say the least. But you were told it would happen once the news reached you. He would wake up one day to finish his duty but he would not remember anything regarding his past life.

Even when he found you again, after he somehow remembered you, you didn’t know where to begin.

You just knew that you were so happy to be together again after so long that you hugged him as tight as you could and told him that your door was always open.

To say you both cried is the understatement of the century. It was wet and ugly and messy and neither of you really talk about it but it felt good that day.

And while you both knew he couldn’t stay for long with his adventure being no where near complete. He did come home for the night after he set that travel medallion of his by the front door.

But that was then- before the Calamity was defeated.

Now that it’s gone- so is your brother. Again.

On a different quest this time, it seems.

You don’t understand why your baby brother of all people has to be the one to do it and you would like nothing more than to wrap him up in a blanket and shield him from anything else that comes to hurt him- but he never let you do that as a child- let alone now.

You begin the day like any other and try to get as many mundane chores done as you can before you finally try and get the stable in the back fixed up.

You noticed Link had an affinity to horses and had checked in with the nearest stable to see that he had some lodged under his name.

There’s a place at the house, darn it. Lodge them here. It just needs to be fixed.

With your goal in mind, you lose yourself to the work and the time passes effortlessly.

It’s around noon by the time you hear it.

The familiar sound of activation that gets your heart pounding in relief and unbridled joy.

You drop your hammer and run to the front of the house with the largest grin on your face. “You’re back, you Rug Rat! Come here!”

You single him out instantly amongst the group and tackle him in a hug.

He’s long stopped trying to fight on you on this and has also returned your crushing hug with one of his own. “I’m back.”

“You brought friends too.” You grin and give the group a two fingered salute. “And here I was afraid that this loner child would end up dead in a ditch somewhere and I would be none the wiser. Thank you for looking after my little brother. I’m aware he’s a handful.”

“Ok thanks.” He says.

“Little brother?” Someone from the group asks. They’re lost amongst the sea of head but you nod regardless.

“Yup. I remember the day he was born like it was yesterday.” You grin and put your hands on your hips, introducing yourself right after. “Any friend of Link’s is a friend of the family. Come in, come in. Make yourselves at home. It’s not much but it’s ours. Been in the family since before the calamity struck. Let me wash up a bit and then we can get some food going, yeah?”

“I’ll start up the stove.” Link says and you’re about to disagree. After all, he just got home and should rest while he can but he ahs the most unburdened smile on his face that you can’t bring yourself to deny him.

 “Alright.” You sigh and head to the back where the shower is. It’s always been small and a bit cramped and the door stopped fitting correctly about ten years ago but now that’s it’s not just you anymore, you can go around into the giving the house the TLC it deserves.

But you’re starting with the stable in the back.

When you’re finished and you’ve dried yourself off, you get into the house to find it in a delightful array of colors and chaos.

Each of the boys seemed to have made themselves completely at home in the time you were gone and you leaned against the door frame, watching them all interreact.

Your brother didn’t waste any time with getting the stove up and running. You can smell the beginning of lunch getting cooked and it appears that Link has wrangled two of the boys to be his helpers. One appears to be the youngest with bright wide eyes and a similar blue tunic to that of Links and the other looks to be  slightly more timid in the process. He’s around the same height as Link but darker hair and a long white cape still clasped around his shoulders. 

You recognize the Master Sword strapped to his back.

Making a note of that you look around the room again. Three of them have made themselves comfortable at the table. One is easily the biggest guy of the group, red and blue tattoos on his face and scar over his eye as he watches the others go about the admittedly small house. The other two look to be the same size and you’re sure you can look them in the eye if you needed to. They’re talking to both each other and the group that’s cooking. One has a wolf pelt on his shoulder with more tattoos on his face and other is a knight if you’ve ever seen one with a bright blue scarf around his neck.

You’re not one to judge your brother’s friends but you make a mental note to watch him in case he tries anything.

Two of the boys- one with pink hair and the other have the most solid brown mane of the whole group have made themselves spares and are talking quietly to each other and not making a fuss.

The final one looks to be the smallest but he’s got an older glint to his eye that recognize well. He’s wearing arguably the most color tunic of the group with those four patches sewn together. He’s tucked himself away into a corner with a book out, not interacting with either of them outright but he has been looking up and adding his two cents to the older’s conversation at the table.

They don’t notice you’re back which is a testament to how tired they all must be.

They’re an interesting bunch.

But Link did always surround himself with interesting people.

So you’re not really surprised.

“Sooo...” Pinky starts off, calling your bother’s attention. “You have an older sibling?”

“Yup!” He answers, not looking up from the pot. “They were waiting for me the whole time, and even manage to keep the house. Up keep still needs to be done but we’ve been working on it together.”

“But they’re older.”

“Yes. We’ve established this.”

You have to hold back your snort.

“You were asleep for one hundred years.” Four Patches speaks up, closing his book silently. ”Shouldn’t they... ummm...”

“Be dead?”

“Or at least really old?” Mr. Brunette hops in, trying to lessen the blow of the sentence.

“You’re like one hundred and seven teen right? Wouldn’t that put them at being one hundred and twenty something?” Wolf boy offers.

“I guess so. Yeah. They were old at some point.” Link stops stirring and you can see him try to run the numbers in his head. “I know that much. The village talks about them being really old sometimes, but I guess that was years ago because it’s only from the older folk that live here.”

“But they lived through those one hundred years, didn’t they?” Blue Baby Face speaks this time.

“That’s what they told me.”

“So....” The knight tilts his head and tries to put his hands out as if that would help answer the question. “They’re like the Old Man then? Old in their head but young on the outside.”

“You can say that, yeah.” You say and take extreme satisfaction at the way most of the jump at your voice. “Unlike Link, I was alive the whole time he was asleep. I’ve got grandkids in Lurelin and they visit from time to time but someone had to at least keep the house up and running, might as well have been me.”

“I...” Link starts as he takes the food off the burner. “I never asked you how you stayed young, did I?”

“Nope.”

“Oh.” He looks away and deflates a little. Link looks a little disappointed with himself and that won’t stand in this house.

“I didn’t realize it was that important. And I’m going to assume you’ve explained most of the situation Rug Rat.” You laugh a little with a raised eyebrow. “You can blame Purah. You know she wanted to find a way to keep the old from aging, right? It’s why she’s in the body of a little kid again. But when she tried the second formula she realized that if she tried it on herself that it might as well but poof her back into a baby and she wanted to contact Robbie but he’s too far and too old to make that trip. I volunteered.”

“Really?”

“It still didn’t really work, I was transformed into a teenager instead of a child- a horrible time to exist really. But I suppose it was a blessing in disguise. By the time this one-” You step into the house fully and ruffle Link’s hair. “-came back, it left us with the same age gap as before. So in the end I can’t complain.”

“Why’d you volunteer?” Cape guy leans on the wall. “There’s only so many times you can test it, right? Who’s to say it wouldn’t have been worse?”

“Yeah, what if it did transform you into a baby again and you forgot everything?” Four Patches stands up and comes to stand by the table, putting his book on top of it. 

“I wanted to take the risk.” you shrug and pull your brother into a hug. “Is it a crime to want to see my baby brother again not matter the cost?”

“Get off.” He whines.

You laugh but do as he asks. “It was never said when he’d be back. Only that he would. I was willing to buy as much time as needed to be there for him.”

“I didn’t remember you...” He mutters to himself.

“You now, don’t you?” You punch him gently. “We’ve talked about this. It’s ok. I knew it was going to happen. It wasn’t going to stop me. Ganon himself couldn’t properly get rid of me. I’m not leaving your side anytime soon.”

He smiles and turns to hug you.

“Now where’s your wolf friend?” You ask. “Are you still traveling together? There’s something I wanted to give him.”

Wolf Pelt shimmies in his seat for a second but you don’t think much of it.

Link shakes his head. “Not right now but he has been coming by every now and then.”

“Well it’s good he’s still around to look after you then in my stead.”

“We have a horse though.” Link tilts his head up to grin at you. “It’s not the same but her name is Epona.”

Familiarity stabs you in the heart and you know it’s something that Link even remember even if he lives another one hundred years.

He was too little when she passed.

“...Like dad’s old horse. Can I see her?” You say with a light constriction in your throat. “How crazy would it be if they looked alike?”

“Dad had a horse?”

“You wouldn’t remember her, you were too little. I barely remember her as it is but yes, he did.” You take a step back and motion back towards the door. “Maybe after lunch you show me. We can bring her to the back and measure up how the stable is. I’ve been fixing it up.”

“Really!?” Link blinks, an excited glint appearing in his eyes.

“Yes. That’s what I was doing when you first came in. But let’s eat first.” You put your hand to the small of his back and push him gently in the direction of the table. “And then you can tell me about your friends and this new adventure of yours.”

[dameronology]

to all the pilots i've loved before {poe dameron} - 3/4

part three: better half of a whole

summary: you’re in love with poe dameron. it’s both the most complicated and most simple thing in the galaxy - and it’s all shoved into a shoe-box under your bed, in the form of a thousand love letters. here’s to hoping he never finds them. (series masterlist)

warnings: language, mentions of injury

i'm so sorry this took me so long to write!! i got writer's block and then i was horribly busy with a thousand others things and sadly, i cannot prioritise fan fiction over real life duties. and i would know, because i've tried

enjoy!!

- jazz

Poe didn't sleep for...well, it was probably days. Felt like years.

Dear trouble,

Every time he closed his eyes, your face would flash into his mind. The sound of your laugh echoing amongst the cries of war; the feel of your soft hands tracing the remains of battle scars and wounds. What if the hug you gave him before you left was the last? What if your slightly pained laughter at the shitty joke he'd made in the jungle the night before was all he had left? He cherished every memory he had of you but he loved you more.

I know you hate when I call you that, but it feels pretty accurate - because you do cause trouble, normally with me but more recently FOR me. Anyways, I never considered myself to be much of a letter writer, but then I saw yours and...fuck.

Love. What a funny fucking word, right? Said so easily, but meant so much. Something that felt so hard to find, but even more difficult to hold onto. His parents had found it and they'd kept it for so long, and he'd always wanted the same - nothing less, nothing more. Just the kind of unwavering, undying love that can survive a war and be happy with the domesticity that followed. The only difference between Poe and his parents was that they'd been fearless with every aspect of their lives, not withholding their ability to express feelings. Perhaps that's where he fell short. Shara had taught him a lot of things but she'd been lost before he taught her how to pull his head out his ass and just...say things how they were.

What am I even supposed to say? I love you too would be a start, because I obviously I do. I've always wanted to say it but I never wanted to risk what we had in case you secretly hated me, and now I'm going to live out the rest of my days regretting it.

The first that Poe managed to finally get some rest was four days after Leia had broken the news of your disappearance. He'd fallen asleep in his quarters, curled up into Finn's side and clutching a t-shirt of his that he'd left in your room - you'd borrowed it a few months ago, and it still smelt of you. It was a mixture of your everyday body fragrance and a little of engine oil. BB-8 was snoozing quietly in the corner and for the first time in days, Poe's jaw and shoulders weren't tense and clenched.

The little robot did stir, however, when he got a comms system message from Leia. He was awake immediately, cruising across the room and crashing straight into the nearest human he could find - and it was at that point that Finn regretted leaving his leg dangling off the side of the bed. He jumped awake, brown eyes finding the droid peering up at him.

You're not just my best friend. You're my partner in crime, my soulmate and you know that twin flame bullshit that Rey always go on about? You're probably that too because we're both flaming hot. You're the better half of this whole. You and me.

"Poe is sleeping, buddy," he quietly said.

"There's a message from the general," BB-8 beeped back.

Poe suddenly woke up at that - it could have been any message, and certainly not one about you, but something in his gut told him otherwise. If it hadn't have been, Leia would have left it til morning, or not even bothered him at all in his current state.

"What?" the pilot asked. "What is it?"

"They're back, in the med-"

Poe didn't give him a chance to say anything else, because he was already up and out the door - jacket unzipped, boots half unlaced, hair sticking up in a thousand different directions.

And even though he hadn't slept for days, he was running for his dear fucking life. The medical bay was right on the other side of the base and he didn't care. You were there - in what state, he didn't know - and that was all that mattered. He was just wanted to be with you, beside you, and he never planned on leaving.

If I see you again, I'm not gonna hide it anymore. I love you and you deserve to know that. I'm gonna give you the fucking world, I promise.

Poe skidded around the corner, stopping his tracks when he saw you across the room. You looked tired - far past it, in fact - and his entire body tensed when he saw the bruises on your arm and up your neck. Still, he took comfort in the fact that he knew you put up a good fight. You'd sparred together enough times and given him enough bruises to last a life time.

There was a slight oof as someone crashed into the back of Poe (Finn's subtle way of announcing his arrival). He placed a hand on his shoulder, shoving him forward slightly. It was clear that Poe was in a state of shock - at your loss, at your declaration, and even more at your return - because the last few days had changed everything.

Everything he'd ever wanted was about to come to fruition. No pressure.

"Go to them," Finn murmured.

With that, Poe took a few steps forward - you met him half away across the room, chests colliding with enough force to knock down an ATAT. He wound his arms you, pulling you towards him with one hand tangled in your hair and the other holding your back. He clung to you, tears in his eyes and entire body shaking, almost as though he was using the feeling of you to act as a reminder that this wasn't a dream. You were here. You were back. Perhaps a little worst for wear, but alive and standing all the same.

I don't know how I'll say it. Am I meant to just blurt it out? I've never said it to anyone before, so...what the fuck am I meant to do? Normally, I'd come to you for advice on this sort of this but that feels a bit counter intuitive.

"Hey, Poe," you gently murmured.

"Hey, trouble," he let out a shaky laugh, pulling back from the hug to clutch your face in his hands. "You're alive. You're here-"

"- yeah, I'm here," you grinned.

"What happened?" he pushed. "If I ever find those First Order bastards, I swear it's on site."

"They were trying to shoot us out the sky, so we had to lay low on a random moon for a few days, but the residents of said moon were not very friendly and - you know what? It doesn't matter," you leant into his touch, relishing the feeling of his hands against your skin. "I'm here and that's what's important."

"I was so scared," Poe admitted. "And they had me search your room for back up plans and-"

You froze.

"You...you searched my room?" you stuttered. "What did you find?"

The main thing is, I AM gonna tell you. I promise. Just...please come back.

Love, Poe

Poe's eyes widened - maybe now wasn't the best time to break the news. You were bleeding from your head and hadn't slept for days. To spring it on you before you were even cleaned up felt a bit unfair. His worst fears had been avoided, so he didn't mind waiting just a little longer.

"Nothing," he forced a smile. "C'mon, I'll clean you up."

Taking your hand in his, Poe lead you towards one of the beds. He was hardly a medical expert, but he'd been through enough cuts and scrapes to have a basic understanding of stitches. And luckily, your injuries didn't look too bad. It was more just the fact you had them in the first place that hurt him.

What if he'd gone on the mission with you? Or convinced you to stay? Fuck, he would have gone in your place if he knew what was going to happen. The last few days had been the worst of his life and he almost felt responsible for what had happened to you. Your pain was his pain, and he felt it in every fibre of his being.

But, of all things, at least he knew what love was now - and if you had never have gone MIA, he never would have gone looking in your room, and he never would have found those letters. It felt like a bit of a dick move to call them a blessing in disguise but his mother had always taught him the value of looking for silver linings. The last week had been one giant thunderstorm. There had been no breaks in the rain, or sun peaking through the clouds. It had just been darkness and thunder, but it was all beginning to clear now.

What was it that Shara had said when Poe was a kid? Things have a funny way of working out. This was all a testament to that, and also to the fact that she always seemed to be right.

Poe's hands moved gently as he stitched up the cut on your forehead. They were still steady as they moved, brown eyes occasionally moving down to meet yours. He always smiled when they did.

"There we go," he said. "That shouldn't scar, but if it does, it would make you look like a bad-ass, so..."

You chuckled slightly. "Thanks, Dameron."

"You don't have to thank me," he quietly murmured, running a thumb over your cheek. "I'm just glad you're back."

"Right," you grinned. "What did you do whilst I was gone?"

Cried. Read those letters. Cried some more. Wrote a letter myself, then cried on that too.

"I just...I caught up some on some reading," he forced a smile. "C'mon, let's go to my quarters. I have some bactaspray there for those bruises."

Poe took your hand in his again and helped you up off of the bed - you seemed okay to walk, but he didn't let go. He needed to feel you, to know that you were there. He was worried you might float away into the galaxy and disappear all over again if he didn't cling onto you.

And for you, the feeling of his warm hands against yours was a welcome relief after a long few days. You were trying to push the pain and the incoming nightmares to the back of your head, and it was much easier when Poe was beside you. You already knew that he was going to make you sleep beside him that night. Being on the same wavelength so often was a great feeling.

Poe hadn't thought about tidying his room - why would he? He'd been so preoccupied with you, and finding you, that he'd barely considered the idea. Besides, it wasn't like you were going to care about the shoes by his door, or the letters on his desk, or the unfolded laund-

- fuck.

The letters.

Your box of letters, which was sat on his desk, which was right by the door.

By the time he'd even registered that they were there, you were already half way into the room. In a somewhat half-arsed attempt to shove them back in the box and toss them to the side, Poe dove forward and knocked them into an open draw, slamming it shut.

When he turned around and saw your wide eyes, it was clear he was a little too late. You'd already seen them.

taglist: tags: @neverlandlibrarian @asphyzzz @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @ubri812 @taina-eny @dessinemoiunehistoire @fangirl-316 @princessxkenobi @brandyllyn

[morizoras-cave]

Sleepyhead (Request)

MCU cast x gn!teen!co-star!reader, Benedict Cumberbatch x gn!reader

Genre: Angst, fluff

Request Description: Hiya♥️could i please request a teen x marvel cast were they always find her sleeping and taking naps everywhere around set and they confront her about it and she says something about having to take care of her little siblings because her parents are never arohnd do she gets no sleep. Sorry if its to long.❤❤❤❤❤😍🥰

Warnings: irresponsible parents, negligence, slight insecurity, stress

(A/N): sorry this is kind of centered around benedict, i find these mcu cast x reader ones difficult. also im watching a belarusian war-movie from 1985 about the holocaust. its absolutely terrifying (im very serious, i’d be cautious for trigger warnings). if you’re looking for a horror movie or something, search “come and see movie” on youtube and you’ll find the entire thing there (:

At first, it had been sweet. A testament to the insomniatic youth, if you will. In every closet, behind every door, and on every soft surface, you could be found in between takes, snoring away.

They all agreed you were probably watching movies or playing games up late at night, computer screen illuminating your face. Or maybe you were chatting with your faraway friends. Either way, it was almost endearing to find you drooling on the couches scattered around the set.

Sweet and endearing at first, yes. But then the feelings about it, the longer it went on, the more your mature and well behaved personality clashed with the idea of you staying up all night, the more the feelings about your frequent naps changed.

To the set workers, the coordinators and overseers of the countless tasks on set, it became an issue. 

“Where’s Y/n? We need them for the next scene!” 

More often than not, several people would be running around set in search of you. And of course you apologized profusely when they found and woke you, but it didn’t matter when you never changed.

But to your coworkers, the talented actors and actresses on set of this huge movie production, it was concerning. Because you were their friend, undoubtedly. 

When you would be pulled out a distant break room, rubbing your dark and drowsy eyes, mumblings would start among them. 

“Are they okay?” 

“They just seem so sensible, I don’t understand why they would stay up like that.” 

And then there was you. Young and unfortunate you. Just trying to do your best, trying to please everyone. It was impossible for anyone to know how much you were juggling with. 

You felt like a bird with a broken wing, still flying but bound to fall to its death. You knew it was too much. You knew it was only a matter of time before you broke. 

Most teens felt stressed with just schoolwork, and then there was you. Battling long set days and huge mounts of schoolwork. And then the family.

Your parents that never seemed to be around. They were both working all the time and often left you and your siblings to yourselves. The problems with that was that you were the eldest, and your siblings were too young to take care of themselves. You were the one left to bring home groceries, to make dinner, to bring them to bed, and to help them with any of their schoolwork or difficulties. 

And it was too much. Simply put it was too much for you. You had managed back when you were just another teen at school, but now you were in a movie, you had a JOB.

Usually you’d go to set and work your ass off, get home and help the kids all day, and then do your schoolwork in the night. You almost never got more than an hour or two of sleep, which was why you settled for small naps during your filming sessions. 

You were so stressed, and you wanted to be angry, because in truth you had every right to. But you were too tired and too busy to be angry. Too focused on your siblings and doing good as an actor. But you would never want to involve your coworkers. You thought it would be embarrassing and unprofessional to involve them. So you carried the weight all alone.

“Wake up! Wake up!” 

Someone was shaking you awake. You blinked your eyes open. A redhead set assistant was yelling in your face, grasping your shoulders. 

She stopped when she saw your eyes turning to slits, before widening to look at her. 

“Am I on?” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. The lady scoffed.

“Are you on? Yeah, you’re on,” she spat and swung around, heels clicking on the floor, as she exited the break room briskly.

You were ashamed. Of course you were. You were so unprofessional and problematic. But you knew you had no other time to sleep, so this was your only option. The thought made you want to cry. 

Instead, you stood up and walked to where the scene would be filmed, through several hallways and technical rooms, before you arrived to the large set. 

Benedict, Robert, Tom (Holland), Chris (Pratt), Pom, and Dave were all gathered and ready to film. Your face was on fire, so you avoided their gazes, and just got into position to film the next scene. 

Benedict and Robert exchanged glances as you yawned, but before they could talk to you (as it seemed everyone was getting fed up with your constant sleepiness) the director yelled “action”, and the acting resumed. 

You all did the scene and you, surprisingly, did okay for having woken up about five minutes earlier. You continued doing several scenes for the movie all together, going through about three full scenes.

When the director was satisfied, everyone started scattering. You, rubbing your tired eyes, was already beelining for the break room, hoping to see an empty couch for you to crash.

However, before you could sneak off to catch some z’s, you felt a firm hand on your shoulder. You blinked, turning around and gazing at the person who had grabbed your shoulder. It was Benedict, Robert, Tom and Chris not fat behind him. He had a stern look on his face. 

“Y/n, we need to talk.”

“Yeah, sure, what’s up?” your tone was casual, or perhaps too exhausted to express any real emotion, but inside you felt your stomach churn with anxiety. 

“Why are you always sleeping?” Robert chimed in. 

“Yeah, because if you’re up watching Youtube or whatever, you probably shouldn’t!” Tom said.

“Not that we’re assuming that that’s what you’re doing! It’s just- You know..,” Chris explained, voice full of panic.

You smiled softly. You recognized that they were coming from a place of worry. Then, your heart sunk slightly. You could cry. Again. Over the thought of your lack of time and your endless responsibilities. 

“It’s nothing serious, it’s just..” you trailed off, trying to figure out how you could make it sound less sad. Things always sounded worse when spoken out loud, you found. “I have two siblings, and my parents are never around, so I’m kind of the person taking care of them.” 

Your coworkers in front of you fell silent. You could see it on their faces. They didn’t like it. 

“You?” Robert said finally, and you just nodded. 

“So, you’re doing a movie, doing school, and taking care of your siblings at the same time?” Benedict repeated slowly, and once again you just nodded. There was nothing more to say. 

“Why aren’t your parents there?” Chris asked in his serious-unserious voice. 

“They’re working a lot,” you mumbled, disliking the collective attention on you. The thought of the couch made you yearn for some rest. You could tell that there were many things they wanted to do in that moment. They wanted to fix it all. 

“Can’t you tell them you don’t have time?” 

“I’ve tried that already. They say they don’t have a choice,” to this, both Robert and Benedict scoffed and shook their heads. You just watched with heavy eyes. 

“Alright. Here’s what’s going to happen,” Benedict said quietly, eyes boring into yours, “I’m going to call a nanny to look after your siblings for a couple of days, don’t worry I’ll pay. You’re going to back to the hotel and sleep for at least 10 hours. When you’ve done that, and only when you’ve done that, will we talk about how we’ll move forward with your parents.” 

You were quiet. You couldn’t stand up to your parents like Benedict wanted you to. You just couldn’t. They were busy and that was understandable. 

Although, you had to admit, the thought of sleeping for 10 hours was enticing. Heck, worst case scenario, you could settle for 5! Your tiredness was like heavy cuffs and chains on your body, and Benedict stood with the shining, golden key right in front of you. 

“Benedict, I- I can’t do that to my parents-”

“No, your parents can’t do this to you! This is absolutely outrageous!” He was frustrated you could tell. Robert seemed upset too, while Tom and Chris stepped back and let the adults handle it. Though, they seemed sad for you. 

You went quiet. 

“I just-” 

“I don’t want to hear another word about how they’re somehow excused for their behavior. This is negligence, Y/n! This is too much for you and you know it! You’re exhausted and it’s so painful to see, so please. Just take me up on this.”

You sighed.

“Alright, then.” you said, body finally giving in to the attractive offer. Benedict’s face carried the ghost of a satisfied smile, before going back to the stone cold determination. 

You drove to the hotel in Robert’s car and they booked you an extra room, knowing that your siblings occupied the other one. As soon as you could fall back on the bed, you were gone, body screaming for rest. 

You woke up 14 hours later, feeling happier, brighter and well-rested. That feeling had been forgotten by you, but it was alright, you decided. Every inch of you blossomed with energy now. 

As promised, Benedict had ordered a nanny for your siblings (the nanny was a lovely human being, and simply amazing with kids). Benedict, Robert, Chris and Tom has split the bill. 

You called him when you woke up, and he dragged you to a restaurant, where the two of you had a long, long talk about why what your parents were doing was serious and unacceptable. He could tell he needed to explain it to you, because you, like many children, were ready to defend your parents’ at all costs. 

Needless to say, after Benedict’s advice you didn’t have to go through that kind of thing again. You settled it with your parents (as well as your siblings), and after that you were so grateful that Benedict helped you out of that responsibility, because it wasn’t yours to have. 

Benedict was just happy to help, the memory of seeing you sleep everywhere, now less endearing and simply painful. He didn’t like thinking about it, and so he tried not to, but rather focused on your laughter and bright smile. In truth, that’s the only thing that really mattered. 

___________________________

Tag List:

@hera-the-writer @marvel-madness @40srogcrs @whatthefuckimbisexual @snarky–starky @garbage-potato @eviemarvel @lozzypoz321 @allthecreativeonesaretaken @missamericana713 @rororo06 @shady80smusicsingercolor @ireadfanficforfun

[newbie-whumping]

So something most of you probably don't know (and frankly, not your fault! I usually don't talk about myself on here) is that I really love Billie Eilish. Realized today that she released a new song and holy shit the mental PMV for this -

Anyway, as such, say hello to a whump songfic :)

Sometimes you look the same / just like you did before the accident

It's been years since Gaster died, years since they've all been finally, finally free of that man. So much has changed - Asriel can walk again, mostly without help. Kat is smiling again and purring as strong as she ever had. Ky is physical, and as ever, Brooke's best friend - and yet so much is the same. Looking over at her husband's sleeping face, she smiles. Sometimes, especially when they're asleep, it's just like when they were kids having sleepovers at Asgore's, huddled together in a cuddle puddle.

God, she loves him so much. She loves them both so much. She sits up, careful not to disturb either, and heads into the bathroom for her morning routine.

When you're staring into space, / it's hard to believe you don't remember it

She catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror as she splashes water on her face and pauses for a moment, halfway to reaching a washcloth. Out of the three of them, she feels she looks the most different. She's grown her hair out, a personal act of healing, since she usually kept it short during the rebellion. She still has a scar across her cheekbone that strains to reach the bridge of her nose - a souvenir from a particularly annoying run-in with the Secret Police. There's lines marking her skin, testaments to her aging. Remarkable how fast that seems to happen for someone in their thirties.

Brooke shakes her head, her hand finishing the motion of grabbing the washcloth to dry her face off. She proceeds to use the toilet and then shower. She's been getting lost in the past a lot lately, thinking a lot about the rebellion, about things that could've been, could've changed. About Kat in the hospital, all but lifeless, struggling even with the hope Ky brought. About Asriel and his hobbies, the track meet he never got to attend because of the accident. She doesn't know if he remembers it that well. He never claims to.

Woke up in the ambulance; / you pieced it all together on the drive. / I know you don't remember calling me, / but I told you even then you look so pretty. / In a hospital bed, / I remember you said / you were scared, / and so was I

She sat in the chair next to his bed, more numb than she wished she was. He wasn't awake yet, and she just waited. It felt like hours, weeks, seconds, before he finally spoke.

"Hey B."

She glanced up, shifting to sit straighter. "Hey fluffy boy." She managed a weak smile, which he returned.

Silence prevailed for a while. "Your mom's doing okay," she finally said.

"I know. She came in earlier. She doesn't really remember how we crashed; people seem to think it was a drunk driver."

"Do you?"

He paused. "I don't really know what else it could've been," he responded. "Mom didn't just randomly lose control. Or have an episode. They usually don't happen when she drives, y'know?"

"Yeah." Brooke had a suspicion that was partly a product of Gaster's doing. As ever when it came to him, though, she had no proof. "At least you get to rock a hospital gown."

He cracked a smile. "Leading the fashion front this year."

"You totally could. You could rock anything." She smiled in return.

He laughed a bit. "You're biased 'cause you love me."

"Maybe so, but that doesn't mean I'm wrong."

"If you say so."

They fell into a comfortable silence. After a moment, she asked hesitantly, "Do you remember anything about it?"

He shook his head, wincing a bit. "No. I know it was bad, though. Couldn't even heal me with magic."

"Guess that rules out the upcoming track meet then, huh?" Brooke tried for a bigger smile. She knew he would be fine, he'd come back from worse. He came back from dying so many times; whatever injuries came from the crash, he'd get over them easily.

He looked away. There was a beat before he responded. "Might not do track next year."

"You'll be better by then," she shrugged.

Asriel sighed then. "No. I don't think I will."

"C'mon, Azzy. It's not like you to be pessimistic," she frowned.

"I'm not being pessimistic, Brooke. You know I'm not." He looked back at her, green eyes holding a world of exhaustion.

"I don't know that, actually." She felt anger starting to bubble up, brought from annoyance. "Cause it really sounds like you are."

"I'm really not. Doing track next year would be a miracle," Asriel persisted.

"I don't see how. You're gonna heal up in maybe three months tops, and I know you're gonna be itching to get back into it."

"Stop it," he said.

"Stop what? Trying to remind you you aren't hopeless?" Brooke's voice rose. "I'm not doing that, Azzy."

"Stop trying to act like everything is fine," he said, voice hardening.

"Everything is fine! Not now, but it's gonna be!"

"No it's not. Stop acting like it."

"I'm not gonna stop, Dreemurr! You're not acting yourself!" Heat and anger were seeping into her voice.

"I'm not going to be able to do track, Brooke! Not ever!" It was his turn for his voice to rise.

"One car crash isn't the end of the world; Jesus!"

"How am I supposed to do track when I'm paralyzed, Brooke?" he shouted.

She froze, the sudden silence deafening. "You're what?" she managed.

His anger still showed on his face, despite his voice returning to an inside level. "You didn't know?"

"I - no. No one..." It was like the anger was punched right out of her, replaced by shock.

"Well. Now you know." He looked away again.

Brooke tried finding something, anything to say. Finally, she managed, "I'm sorry."

He shrugged bitterly. "Sorry isn't gonna fix me."

"I know." She was quiet.

After several minutes, Asriel spoke again. "You know, I've lived through so much. Done so much, things I'm not proud of. Lived through so many timelines. But I think right now I'm something I haven't been since... Since Chara died, and that whole - fiasco." He finally looked back at her, and the vulnerability she saw there broke her heart right along with his next words. "I'm scared, Brooke."

She went to respond, to hold his hand, to offer reassurance. She never got the chance as a nurse entered, looking concerned. "Are you alright, Asriel? I heard shouting."

"Yeah. We're fine." His voice had returned to the tired tone from before.

The nurse took a look at the heart monitor, then at the clock on the wall. Addressing Brooke, it said, "Asriel needs to rest. It's getting late."

"Okay." She glanced at him. He had returned to looking at the wall. She got up. "See you tomorrow?"

"Sure." He tried to smile at her. She offered one back.

Brooke nodded thanks to the nurse as she left. She felt tears prick her eyes and fought them back.

In a standstill on the 5, / thought it was unusually early traffic; / usually I don't panic. I / just wanted to be on time. / When I saw the ambulances on the shoulder, / I didn't even think of pulling over. / I pieced it all together late that night

Brooke still remembers that conversation more vividly than she wishes she did. It was such a hard thing to accept. Especially when she'd realized that night that she'd seen the ambulances around the crash site on the way to visiting Kat.

Her mom had rocked her as she'd cried on the couch. They were sixteen at the time - she felt so childish for needing the reassurance, the comfort - but it was nice to be held after Toriel's call. Her mom knew how much Asriel means to her - they'd been dating, of course he meant so much to her.

And I know you don't remember calling me, / but I told you even then you look so pretty. / In a hospital bed, / I remember you said / you were scared, / and so was I

The worst part had been being the one to tell Kat. The small monster had been in love with Asriel since... Well, none of them are really sure. Brooke thinks it was when they were going through the Underground, Kat thinks it was when he regained his body, Asriel thinks it was sometime long before either of those. Brooke and Kat disagree with him on the basis of him getting time confused a lot where the Underground is concerned, aside from when she'd been there.

The look on Kat's face had been pure devestation. Brooke couldn't even hold her hand because of the restrictions the ward had, and that still hurts to this day. She'd had her own mother, but Kat couldn't even be comforted by her best friend. The best she could settle for was asking for updates, and she did, constantly.

Brooke dresses and pulls her hair into a ponytail to dry, heading for the kitchen. She casts a glance at the bed as she passes - Asriel and Kat are still asleep, with the latter snuggled up to the former, as always. Brooke smiles a bit and continues on so she can make breakfast.

What if it happened to you on a different day? On a bridge where there wasn't a rail in the way? Or a neighborhood street where the little kids play? Or the Angeles Crest in the snow or the rain? What if you weren't alone; there were kids in the car? What if you were remote, no one knows where you are? If you changed anything, would you not have survived? You're alive, you're alive, you're alive

She gets to work on some hash browns, choosing to make them from scratch instead of grabbing the bag from the freezer. It's not something she does often - usually Azzy is the one to put more effort into food - but it feels right today.

Her mind continues to think about the past, stubbornly centering around Asriel and the accident. Even today, they don't know how the crash happened. She, Kat, and Ky are pretty certain it was engineered by Gaster - Asriel lost his ability to reset around the same time, not that he tried to use it much once they left Mt. Ebott - but whatever investigation went on was quickly wrapped up, and there was never enough evidence gathered to be conclusive. So the official statement is that it was a drunk driver hit and run.

In some ways, Brooke is glad that it happened near the town hall. Night Vale is many things, with many different levels of danger in any given area. The town hall is relatively safe. He and Toriel could've been out by route 800, somewhere where there wasn't a railing, and they could have gone spiraling into the desert. It could've been near their house, where kids have always been known to run around and play. It could've been out in Desert Bluffs, so vastly different from Night Vale at the time, when they had a blizzard or pouring rain; it could've been somewhere on the way to a different town entirely, somewhere they didn't have connection to Night Vale, somewhere no one would be able to find, it could have been in Radon Canyon where few can survive without masks or air, they could've been destroyed by the day's calamity, anything could have happened and he would've been gone right alongside Toriel, two people who have been there for her and loved her even if she wasn't a monster or had any obligation to them and how could she have lived and how could Kat have lived she loved him so much she loved Toriel so much it would've destroyed her Brooke could've lost her too and she's panicking now she knows she is it's okay Asriel is alive he's alive he's alive he's -

A gentle touch to her back has Brooke whirling around to fight because here, now, it's inevitable with Gaster in charge, and she's already holding something so she swings and -

She finds herself immobile and then turned carefully, sees the brown-tipped ears come into view followed by the cream head and baby blue pajamas and then she turns and -

It's just Kat, looking at her with a face full of concern. "Brooke?"

As she takes reality back in, Brooke recognizes a burning smell, and a burning sensation in her hand. She reflexively drops whatever she's holding, and it clatters to the floor.

And I know you don't remember calling me, / but I told you even then you looked so pretty / in your hospital bed / I remember you said / you were scared. / And so am I

"Are you okay, love?"

Kat, sweet Kat; always concerned for others even when she could be in danger. Brooke tries to get her mouth to work properly, but it won't cooperate. She dimly recognizes she has full control of her body again, and that she's leaning against the counter.

Kat moves to rest against her, both supporting her and giving her the ability to ground by purring and letting her run her hands through her thick, soft fur.

"The hash browns," Brooke finally manages.

"I moved them, don't worry babe." Kat butts her head gently against her wife's.

"Thanks."

Kat nods, hopping off the counter and taking Brooke's hand. She leads the human over to the couch, where she proceeds to cuddle up and continue to purr. Brooke resumes petting her, feeling the anxiety slowly ebb away.

"I was trying to make the good ones," she says after a moment. "Did they burn?"

Kat hesitates. "I think they did," she admits. She sits up, reaching for Brooke's hand. "I think you burned your hand, too."

"It's fine," Brooke says, flexing it and immediately feeling the burn flare up.

"May I?" Kat glances up at her.

Looking at her wife, Brooke can't find a no in her, so she nods. Gently, always gentle, Kat takes her hand in her paws. They glow for a moment, and Brooke feels the pain fade. It helps to bridge that last bit between her and reality as well, and she kisses the top of the cat monster's head. "Thanks babe."

Kat smiles at her, but it fades quickly. "Are you alright, Brooke? You weren't answering me, and you were really startled."

The human exhales slowly. "I... Got a little too caught up in the past," she says, adding quietly, "Thinking about Azzy."

Kat nods, leaning against her. "He's okay now. We all are. More or less," she adds as Brooke snorts.

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess we are." Brooke smiles faintly. "He up yet?"

Kat shakes her head.

"Good. I don't want him to know about the hash brown failure."

That gets her wife to giggle. "He'd eat them anyway, you know he would."

"Yeah, but he shouldn't," Brooke snickers. She gets up. "Wanna help me with something simpler?"

"What do you have in mind?"

"Probably scrambled eggs."

"Sure."

[witcherarcanathings]

When You’re Gone - An Asra/ Lucio x Female Reader Angst part 4

Summary: Lucio goes after his run away lover. The apprentice has a choice to make.

Word Count: 5000. Should I have broken it into smaller chunks? No.

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Language

Author’s Note: Special thanks to @jayaanderson for reading my drafts, supporting me during the writing process and being a good friend as always.

Credit: to @royallyprincesslilly​ for the text divider

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Five

Lucio woke, golden strands of hair falling gently on his face, his features soft from a good night's rest. He'd forgotten to close the drapes last night, and he could feel the warmth of the sunlight that flooded the room. His eyes were closed, but by the color of the sunlight that shone through his eyelids he knew that it must have been mid-day and he smiled. The two of you had slept well past noon - a testament to your night of passion.

He stretched out, groaning loudly as a sleepy smile spread across his face. He stretched his arm out towards you, reaching to caress the softness of your cheek to gently stir you awake. "Good morning, my love. Did you-"

He felt the emptiness of the space beside him. His heart jumped into his throat as panic filled his chest.

"She's probably just in the bath, I'll pop in and say hello." He murmured, trying to soothe himself. He sat up, throwing the sheets aside, unashamed of his nakedness as he approached the large mahogany doors that led to the Count's personal bath.

With the most charming smile he could muster he opened the doors.

"Doll, don't tell me you started without me?"

Silence. He was talking to an empty room of cold marble and his heart sunk. With empty eyes he looked around him and saw the truth. Your clothes were gone. You were nowhere to be found. It was almost like you hadn't been there at all.

You'd left him without saying a word.

The only proof that you'd been there at all was the warmth that you'd left behind from your side of the bed. He lay there, his cheek pressed against the sheets as your scent filled him.

He didn't know why he started crying - hot, angry, sorrowful tears that seemed to multiply the ache in his chest rather than abate it . He thought you were different, that after all the time and careful planning that last night would have made it clear you were more than just a one night stand. He wanted to be more than that

The count dressed quickly, not caring a nib whether he was a la mode or not. He made his way to your chambers, hoping for an answer as to why you left him. He knocked twice, and without an answer he entered, finding no one home.

The dress you wore to the ball last night was draped neatly on the bed, with a note attached addressed to your maidservant to have it cleaned and pressed.

Just then the girl came in, startled by the count's presence.

"Oh sire! I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you, it's just M'lady-" Anya began, backing away slowly as she pulled the door to close it.

"No it's alright. You may resume your duties." Lucio placed the note back on the dress, taking a careful look around. "Tell me, just where is your mistress? Has she given you any indication of her whereabouts this afternoon?" Lucio doubted it, but he thought he'd ask anyway. He was desperate.

Anya shook her head, " No sire. The Lady Magician usually is here about this time - doing her spellwork and what not. If she's not here sir, it's the library. Shall I send someone to fetch her for you, my lord?"

"No. It's perfectly alright. I'm sure I'll run into her. Thank you."

He strode out of your room, proud and regal as to not betray his disappointment. He'd try the shop. He couldn't open the door. It was magic - very strong magic meant to keep him out. But he knew someone with a key.

Questions were running through your mind as you fled the palace.You feel like Cinderella running away from the ball - that is if Cinderella slept with the prince, ran away, and then went to drown her sorrows in a seedy bar in the worst part of South End.

The Rowdy Raven was the place to go if you wanted to get away, or at least not at risk of the palace guard knowing where you were. Dressed in a black, high collar coat, you walked swiftly through the streets. The brisk morning air chilled your cheeks, the crisp breeze a herald of approaching autumn. You focused on the clip-clop sound of your boots against the cobblestone streets, quickly stepping sideways out of the path of an oncoming carriage that splashed mud on the tail ends of your coat.

Vesuvia was partial to early morning rains in the summer, and evidence of the deluge still dripped from the gutters and pooled in puddles in the street and dampened the earth.

You hardly took notice of it, only the lingering scent of rain caught your attention as your mind wrestled with the whirlwind events of last night.

The facts of the matter were that you'd made love with Lucio, and you didn't regret a single moment of it

BUT you were still in a relationship with Asra, although you two had argued, you hadn't told him it was over.

And was it over?

That was a question you'd asked yourself over and over these past few weeks, although you were refusing to speak to him - part of you still hoped you'd be able to work it out. That maybe somehow you'd reconcile. But you weren't sure if that was what you really wanted. Especially now that Lucio had stirred something inside you. He made you feel things you didn't think you would ever feel for someone else; passion, lust, maybe even love.

Julian came into the bar at around two in the afternoon. "Right on time as always, doctor." the barkeep smiled. "What can I get ya?"

"Surprise me." Julian grinned as he hung his coat on the wall. "On second thought don't. I'd like to live a bit longer."

Tilda, the barmaid came up to him on the pretense of clearing a nearby table. "Your friend, the magician's back there. Really putting them down too. Looks like something's worrying them awful fierce."

For a moment he thought Tilda meant Asra, and his heart jumped. He knew Asra had said he'd return within the week but he hadn't expected him so soon. But as Tilda nodded towards the booth in the back, he saw you and he sighed, thanking the gods because Asra and alcohol did not mix.

Hooded and still gloved he watched as you downed what looked to be your fourth Salty Bitter before he took a seat opposite of you.

"Alright, sister. Spill it. What's wrong?" Julian asked.

"You and Portia are too much alike, you know? Very perceptive." You laugh, hiccuping a bit.

"It doesn't take that much to see you're looking for answers in the wrong places. I hope this isn't because of Asra. Portia told me you two were fighting."

"I slept with Lucio." you blurt out, drink giving away your inhibition.

"Shit." Julian slumped back into the booth, steepling his long fingers as he pressed his forehead into them. "Give me the details."

You explain to him everything that happened, your flight, your confusion. your fear. He listened intently, as if you were on the examination table and he was making a diagnosis.

"I think that I know what your problem is, darling," Julian began as Tilda brought another round of drinks for you both. He waited for her to leave before he started again. " Do you know why you're here?" His arm rested gently on your shoulder.

"Because I'm a weak human being and I have no morals?" You reply, downing your 7th salty bitters.

"NO, and that's enough of that." He said, moving the 8th pint out of your reach and down his throat before you could protest.

"It's because for the first time in your life you have the kind of love that you've always dreamed of. You have someone who loves you, and you're scared shitless. You finally have that thing you've been chasing after, and now that you have it you're starting to question yourself."

"Asra loves me." You answer sadly, the words tasting bitter on your tongue, or maybe it's the alcohol. You’re not so sure.

"There's no doubt about that," Julian answers pointing a long finger at you. "But is his kind of love the one that you really want.Or just the one you've settled for because you're afraid that there is nothing better?"

The doctor’s words hit you deep, forcing you to think about them.For a moment, you were  considering whether or not Julian had an ulterior motive for wanting you to split with Asra. You'd seen that fragment of the past, and wondered if there still wasn't some feeling there. Ultimately though, that didn’t matter. Julian’s word rang true, and you knew he wouldn’t steer you wrong for his own gain. “You’re right, Ilya!” you declared, slamming your empty mug on the table. “I’ve been a damned coward, and a fool!” You grabbed another salty bitter off the tray of a passing waitress and took a big swig. “I’m going to grab true love by the testicles and tell Lucio I’m his if he’ll have me!” You posed confidently, moving to make a bold step out of the bar but failing miserably. You ended up swaying  drunkenly back and forth as you tried to catch your balance by holding on to a nearby barstool. Your double vision caused you to misjudge where it was, and your hand caught onto nothing but air,sending you straight to the floor, falling flat on your face. “Shit, you’re drunker than I thought!” Julian hopped up to pull you to your feet. “Ugh...Ilya, my face hurts….” you groaned, wincing as you touched your temple. “It should. That was a hard fall.” Julian chuckled as he checked you for any head injuries. “You gotta help me get to the palash...I gotta see Lucio. Tell him I luv him. I lurv him so mush!” You slurred, as you staggered towards the exit. “Not so fast! You can’t go to the palace like that! You’re going home until you sober up.Doctor’s orders.” Julian said, hooking his arm over your shoulder, keeping you steady. He settled the bill before, the two of you headed out, stopping a few times along the way for you to throw up in nearby alleyways.

As you and Julian were leaving South End, Lucio entered it, trying to remember the way to Julian’s Flat. He hadn’t been there in years. In fact, he couldn’t remember he ventured past center city, save for the occasional trips to the Coliseum when it had been in operation. He knew better to ask any citizen in South End where the doctor hung his hat. The people in this part of vesuvia looked out for each other, and wouldn’t snitch to the count about their favorite son. After a half hour of tracking and the clue of a familiar looking raven perched on top of a building, he found the flat.

“Jules! Jules, open up, pal! I gotta talk to ya!” Lucio’s jersey accent was strong as he knocked on the door. When there was no immediate answer, he started pounding on the door so hard that the wood began to crack under his metal fist. “Jules! Open up Jules! I know you’re in there! I saw your bird outside!” “Ay!”  A large, round, red faced man glared at Lucio from down the hall. “The doctor’s not here dipshit! Now go make your noise somewhere else. Some of us have jobs and are trying to get some sleep!”

“Hey watch your mouth! I’m the count.” Lucio said haughtily.

“Do I look like I gives a shit who you are? Clear outta here, or I’ll throw you out myself!” If Lucio was his younger self, he’d have gutted the man for talking to him this way. But he was a different man now, and tried to use diplomacy. “Alright. I’m going. And I won’t throw you in prison if you tell me where I can find Jules.” Lucio said, his patience wearing thin. “Try the rowdy raven. Looked like he was headin’ there. But you didn’t hear that from me.” the man answered before slamming his door.

“Thank you...asshole.” Lucio grumbled under his breath, his black leather boots stomping down the rickety wooden steps. The sky was overcast with somber looking clouds hovering above the city, making Lucio wonder if it would rain again or if the clouds would eventually give way to the sun. It didn’t seem that way. The smell of rain clung to the damp air, and everything felt dull, wet, and dreary. Or maybe Lucio just felt that way because the apprentice had walked out on him.If he could find you, and talk to you, maybe then he could understand why you abandoned him.

At the Rowdy Raven he could hear the ruckus in the street, the sound of laughter and cheerful, drunken singing. It all stopped when the count entered. A cool silence filled the room, and some patrons slipped quietly out the back. Others just glared at him hatefully or didn’t look his direction at all. Many still remembered Lucio as the vain, volatile and selfish ruler he once was and not as the man he was trying to become and he let out an exasperated sigh. He supposed he deserved such a reaction from his own people.

“Afternoon, Count Lucio.” Tilda curtsied, trembling a little. “How may I be of service?” “I’m looking for Dr. Devorak. Have you seen him?” The count questioned.

A pregnant silence followed as Tilda’s eyes shot to the owner behind the bar. He was cleaning glasses as he gave a nod to Tilda to answer. “He was here earlier this mornin’, sir. A lady patron had too much to drink and he walked her home. Dunno where he is now.” Tilda answered.

“A lady patron? What did she look like?” Lucio asked. He smiled when Tilda gave him your description, and Lucio sat a bag of gold on the table, enough to buy everyone in the tavern a round of drinks and then some.

As he came out of the pub, the cloudy skies overhead cleared and gave way to the sun. He knew where you were now, and that was all he needed. He set off towards your shop, confident he’d find you there.

In the shop, Julian had made you his famous, guaranteed hangover fix. You looked at the greenish brown concoction wearily, unsure if it wouldn’t come to life and bite off your nose. Besides it smelled awful.

“Ilya...Ilya I can’t drink this…” You groaned, trying to keep from vomiting from the smell of it alone.

“Aw, come on trust me! It’s my go to sober up remedy!” Julian smiled, pushing the glass towards you.”Now come on, be a good girl and drink up.”

“I don’t want to be a good girl.” you grumbled, your last protest before you took a cautious sip. Strangely, it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. There was a strong taste of beets, carrot and ginger, and maybe a few raw eggs. You drank it all down, pinching your nose to ward off the smell.

“Better?” julian asked as you swallowed the last.

“Somewhat. It didn’t taste that bad actually. By why in heaven's name does it smell so bad?”  you asked as you felt yourself start to sober up.

“Could’ve been the garlic, or the sardines.” Julian thought, scratching his chin. “In any case, I suggest you give your mouth a good rinse before you smooch Lucio.”

“Definitely.” you agreed, standing up slowly. “Well thank you for helping me Julian, really.” you stood on your tip toes to kiss him on the cheek, laughing when he scrunched up his face from the smell of your breath. It was just what he got for making you drink that junk. 

“You’re welcome” He gagged, trying to wave the stench away. “You should probably get yourself cleaned up and rested before you get back to the palace. I’ll clean up the kitchen before I show myself out.”

“Alrighty then,” You smiled heading upstairs to refresh yourself. 

You opened your bedroom window to reach the herbs and spices you had growing just outside on the window sill. Grabbing some cloves and spearmint you grabbed your mortar and pestle from the vanity and ground them slowly into a powder which you dipped your toothbrush in and began to scrub your mouth. You repeated the process again after taking a cold shower, feeling completely rejuvenated. You threw on a robe, and wrapped your wet hair in a towel before heading downstairs for a cup of tea. 

You were surprised to hear sounds coming from below. Julian should have finished cleaning the kitchen long ago. “Still here, Julian?” You ask not expecting to hear the voice that  you did. “No he left. But he said I could wait for you here. I hope that’s alright?” Lucio said, his voice soft and no trace of his usual brashness. 

“L-Lucio? What are you doing here? I thought you were at the palace?” You blanched.

“I can see why you would think that, considering that you left me cold and alone this morning without sayin’ a word.” He replied, his hurt apparent in the sadness in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Lucio. This morning I woke up next to you and I had all these feelings and I panicked and-”

" And You ran away from me." Lucio finished your answer.

"NO! I mean that's not what I meant to do.... I mean, I guess I did." You sigh, turning away from him. Why were feelings so hard? Particularly these feelings. Everything seemed so straight forward when you were talking this over with Julian.

"Did I do something wrong?" Lucio asked, his tone sad and broken as his voice cracked.

"No! absolutely not.” You answered resolutely. “ I just think I did?"

"What do you mean?" 

"I mean it's not easy walking away from someone you've loved for years and then just jumping in with someone else.. I didn't want you to think I was using you as some sort of rebound or a way to get back at Asra to make him jealous. I wanted to be sure of that."

" And are you? sure?"

"No. I mean I don't know. I just know that I want to be. I want more than that with you."

"I see."

You hated those words. It's what Asra said all the time when you were arguing and it made you feel like you were talking to a wall. a wall who only saw and understood things as they wanted them to be.

“Look, what I’ve been trying to say is that I have feelings for you too, Lucio. And it scares the heck out of me, because finally I’m with someone who loves me back the way I want to be loved and I don’t know how to handle it.” You sighed, desperate to get your feelings across to the man in front of you.

"Then you want to be together?" He asked, hope in his voice, as he felt joy rising up from the tips of his toes.

"I sure hope we can be." You smile. 

“Yes!” Lucio jumps up, whooping with glee as his fist pumps in the air. He captures you in his rapture, taking you in his arms and squeezing you tightly as if he was afraid you might slip away from you again. The towel on your head slipped off and fell, landing on the kitchen floor with a wet plop.

Neither of you noticed. Lucio was too busy living in this moment, gazing into your eyes as if they were the only ones he wanted to look at. Slowly you went to kiss him, feeling his smile against your lips spread warmth throughout your body.

The kiss was different, a soft silent 'I'm sorry' that neither of you could voice but just wanted to feel as your lips explored each other.

‘I’m sorry’ quickly turned to “I need you.” as Lucio whispered it against your lips, his hands trailing lower to grip your ass through the thinness of your robe.

“Upstairs.” You whisper hurriedly, taking his hand and intending on leading him to the bedroom.  However, the jolt of him pulling you back into his arms and crashing his lips onto yours stops you in your tracks. He wanted you here and now, and would not wait any longer.  He walks you backwards and you yelp when your back hits the counter and he lifts you up onto it. Your robe falls away with ease, and Lucio thanks the stars that he chose his simple hunter’s outfit. He swiftly pulls his shirt over his head, discarding it on the floor, before bringing his chiseled chest against the smooth softness of your breasts.

There’s barely enough room for you to stand between him and the counter, but you make it work, holding his gaze as his eyes darken. Your toes barely touch the kitchen floor with your legs spread wide and open for him.

You anticipate Lucio’s touch before it comes, cold metal fingers sliding up your arched spine until his fingers can wrap around the nape of your neck. His hips press against you, just enough to let you  know he’s there, while the fingers of his other hand rids himself of the remainder of his clothes. You’re both soon stark naked against each other, a tangle of mouths and needy hands. You feel his length start to harden against the inside of your thigh. You reached down to touch it, hearing a small whimper leave the count’s throat when your thumb glides against his weeping tip. 

Like chains had just been released from his body, Lucio’s mouth attached to yours feverishly. The heat of his body permeated through the parts of skin that touched, your naked flesh felt like he was on fire against his.

The kiss was hot and heavy, saliva mixing together as he kissed you greedily. Your own mouth and tongue roamed his mouth with just as much fervour. His light fingers knotted through your hair, his teeth grazing your lips. Your own hands feeling up and down the sculpted expanse of his back and touched scars, old and new. The smaller ones your doing from last night

.

You sighed with longing and relief when Lucio slipped his finger inside. Until that moment you hadn't known how much you need lucio. But your body knew  it had craved him since the first taste.

You could feel his erection prodding against your soft inner thigh. His right hand slid down your wet body to your cunt. You gasped, gripping his arms in shock as he assaulted your clit with his dexterous fingers.

You cry out against him, Your teeth scraping the skin of his shoulder. "Please Lucio! Don't tease me!" You beg, but the count just smiles and wraps his hands around your breasts and squeezes your nipples hard. The pinching makes you whine out and Lucio leans forward with a shit eating grin, his lips brushing your neck and shoulders before he lavishes the crook of your neck in wet kisses.

“Please!" You whine lowly again and the tone almost makes him lose his self control.

Lucio dips his fingers into your heat and You buck against his hand, fucking yourself on his stilled fingers.Satisfied that you needed him, Lucio pumped his fingers, making you cry but it wasn’t enough for you, you need more and he knows it.

His fingers move faster inside of you, a steady rolling motion that makes your knuckles turn white where they’re gripping the cool granite countertop. He knows exactly how to pleasure you, exactly where to touch you and get your wetness spreading down onto your thighs and down his wrist. It’s like he’s practiced for this moment, dreamed, prepared, and planned to have you like this. The thought makes you want to touch him to, to thank him and apologize for delaying this dream come true.

You wrap your fingers around his cock. It’s rock hard and you feel pulsating veins under your palm as you stroke him and nip at his throat. He leans his head back with a groan and shivers and shudders under your touch until he can’t take it anymore and he captures your wrist in his golden claw, the metal threatening to bite into your skin. He pushes his pants the rest of the way  down and steps between your thighs and you lock your ankles around him. You yelp in surprise when he lifts you up and carries you across to the table and lays you on it. 

You both make eye contact, panting heavily as his icy blue eyes gaze into yours before traveling down to where your bodies meet. You both watch as he holds himself steady and pushes inside you slowly, Lucio groaning low and deep when he finally fills you.

He leans down like he’s going to kiss you, but he just brushes his nose against yours and whispers, “You gonna stay with me this time?”

You laugh a breathless sort of laugh as you nod. “Honey, you couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”

His smile is so pretty then, genuine and full of love. “That’s my girl.” He whispers, before finally starting to move inside of you. He pulls out with incredible slowness before slamming back inside, making you cry out, your lips twisting up into a relieved smile as pleasure sparks all over your body.

The feeling’s so intense after all his teasing, almost too good as he stretches and fills you just right, and sets a hard, steady pace.

You collapse back onto the table, elbows flat and nails digging into the oak as he thrusts into you with such power. You barely have enough time to figure out whether the four foot square table is strong enough for this because Lucio lifts your legs up to his shoulders and holds them there as he buries his cock into you at a new, deeper angle.

“Damn, you feel so good, darling. I can never get enough of you.” He thrummed against your inner thigh before kissing just behind your knee.

You began to speak, but his lips crushed to yours. In one motion he took hold of your hips, slammed them to his and leaned forward,folding you over so that your knees were just above your ears as he rocked forward. Your words were replaced by soft whimpers of pleasure. The feeling of her clenching around his cock made him smirk as he thrust harshly upwards. His magician did like it a little rough, and he could admit he liked that.

He set up a robust pace; his hips ramming into yours before he pulled all the way out. He repeated his pattern until you were both loudly declaring your pleasure for each other. The sounds of your coupling filling the room, the dining table creaking under his efforts. Your hips began to meet his, and you wailed his name so loudly it could be heard through the open kitchen window. But you didn’t care, and Lucio was so shameless that he didn’t give it a thought.

“Lucio, oh my god, fuck! I’m gonna come!” You grab for anything to steady yourself and end up with one hand on your breast and the other clutching the edge of the table. “You’re gonna, I’m, I’m…”

You scream as the pleasure finally breaks, washing over you and making her forget everything else but the feeling of Lucio inside of you and above you. He keeps fucking you, adding his fingers against your clit and you keep coming like you’re never going to stop.

He starts to move inside of you faster, keeping his eyes locked with yours until he starts to get overwhelmed too. He leans and lets his eyes drop closed, bracing his hands on the table so he can chase his end with the same determination he gives to everything else

You prop your heels up on the table and watch his face, moaning as the slight pain of overstimulation turns back into pleasure. You reach down to play with your clit, rubbing hard and fast and moaning louder as you do.

Lucio’s voice joins yours and he presses deep inside of you, curling over you and coming inside your womb with a cut-off cry that’s too quiet. His face is pinched in pleasure, lips parted, brows drawn together, and he fucks you through it with shallow thrusts that get you to the edge of coming again.

He growled as your inner walls clamped down on him. Your second orgasm pulling you both under a wave of satisfaction, his own following with a few jerky pumps of his hips. As he filled you with his warmth, you pulled him close into a sloppy kiss. Your bodies formed together, and you buried your face into his neck.

He stills finally and gasps, catching his breath before opening his eyes to look down at you. He laughs softly, still breathing hard as he looks around and sees the mess you two have made on the table, and the surrounding floor. A vase of flowers lies spilled over, the water dripping onto the floor where several empty dishes lay, along with a broken tea cup. But you both know that it all can be fixed with a little magic.

“Can we stay like this for a little while?” You questioned as his hands crept up your sides. They slipped down to rest on your hips while he pressed his cheek against your shoulder. 

“As long as you like, doll.” Lucio answers with a few soft kisses as a quiet crept into the room.

As always, thanks for reading!!! The finale is posted!

[ace-in-a-shopping-cart]

Jewel of the Sea: Chapter 23: Epilogue

Chapter 22

Word Count: 3,167

A few months after their engagement, the wedding day arrived. They’d decided to combine the mer wedding ceremony and Logan’s pre-wedding traditions into a multi-cultural event. Logan threw himself into his work, desperate to have Patton home before his wedding. Virgil did his best to arrange the wedding with Orville and Dorothy’s help. He’d had to pull Logan away from his desk most nights as he tried to go through a paper trail. As it was, Thomas had to almost physically restrain him from going after Patton.

Soon enough, the day came when Patton was home and the wedding was scheduled. They’d explained their customs ahead of time so when Virgil was woken by a knock on his door in the early hours of his wedding day, he wasn’t startled. Excitedly, he jumped from his bed and opened the door to find Thomas, Orville, and Patton standing outside it.

“Is it time?” Virgil bounced on his toes just the slightest bit, wide awake despite the sun barely touching the horizon.

Thomas chuckled. “It is. Go ahead and grab what you need before we whisk you away.”

“I’d recommend grabbing a book or two,” Orville said, “we’re expecting to be there for at least the majority of the day.”

Virgil nodded and pointed at the bench at the foot of the bed, a small pile of essentials already set atop the first volume of the continent’s history. “I’ve finished the history of just Treyal and moved on to all of Lgona. Any suggestions as to what else I should bring?”

Patton stepped into the room, his new coat fluttering around him, and went to search through Virgil’s dresser. “Do you have anything distinctly mer?”

Virgil walked into his closet to change into some comfortable travel clothes. “I’ve got my jewelry, a staple of mer culture.” He walked back out and started to pick up the things on the bench to place them in a bag. “Will that work?”

Patton nodded. “Come over here and pick out one that you think Logan would recognize. It needs to be at decent difficulty as this is supposed to be a challenge.” Virgil came over and easily picked out the armband that Elliott had given him, the one that usually sat just above his elbow.

As soon as that was picked out and any other jewelry Virgil thought he’d need was put into the bag, the group made their way down the stairs. Looking back, Virgil could already see his ‘ransom note’ taped to Logan’s door for him to find when he woke up.

✴ ✴ ✴

An hour later, Logan buckled his sword belt on as he walked down the stairs, his boots thudding against the wood. Roman was standing at the bottom of the stairs, bouncing on his toes as he tried to block as much of the space as possible. Logan chuckled and paused in front of him. “What’s the meaning of this interruption?” The question was stern but his voice was soft and laced with laughter.

Roman grinned. “I’m a distraction!”

Logan nodded and stepped past him, gently placing a hand on his head as he did. You’re a very good distraction, nephew of mine.”

He made his way out the front door, a giggling Roman on his heels, and reread the note he’d found on his door as he sat on his motorcycle. “Your first challenge is where you first met.” He read aloud before turning to Roman. “Alright, do you have a place you’re supposed to be?”

Roman screwed his mouth to the side. “Yeah, I do.”

Logan smoothed out his hair before patting him on the head. “Off you go then, ring bearer.”

Roman scampered off and Logan put on his helmet before starting the motorcycle, revving the engine, and driving off. It didn’t take him long to reach the cliff.

There, Patton was waiting for him. He smiled from his position behind a folding table. “Hey there! Care to test your luck?”

Logan walked over, pushing his visor up. “Is this the first test?”

“Yep!” Patton gestured to the items on his table. “Which is Virgil’s, what does it mean to him, and how did he get it?”

Logan looked at the table and found a few different bracelets and armbands but one stood out to him. He picked it up gently. “This is Virgil’s armband. It signifies his relationship with his sibling Elliott and they gave it to him as a gift.”

Patton nodded. “You must really listen to him when he talks.”

“Of course, how could I not?” Logan smiled as he put the armband in his bag. “He never ceases to amaze me with his words. I never know what he’s going to talk about next.”

“Alright, you big sap! Get out of here!” Patton handed off a slip of paper that contained the next location and Logan didn’t wait for him to pack up before he was turning around and reading it.

“The candy store.”

He was back on the road and on his way to the town before Patton even had the chance to wave at him. He arrived at the candy store and spent a second looking for someone he recognized when Orville appeared beside him.

“Your next task is to pick out a candy for him.”

Logan frowned. “Are you sure we’re playing by the traditional rules? My next task should be solving a riddle that leads to my next location.”

Orville laughed and shrugged. “Yeah, but he asked if we could bring him some sweets. We’re already here and you know him best.”

Logan nodded and turned to walk down the aisle. Tucked in the corner, he found a box of all kinds of chocolates shaped like seashells. Remembering Virgil had once mentioned he thought better with chocolate, he went ahead and paid for it. Returning to Orville, he showed him the chocolates and got a paper in the shape of a star for his troubles.

He laughed. “Were you bored again?”

Orville just shrugged. “Get out of here!”

Logan nodded, putting the chocolates in a temperature controlled side pocket. He sat on his motorcycle as he carefully unwrapped the intricately folded star and read the riddle:

“Where shining scales lay between gilded pages

And countless hours were spent

There you shall find your next testament

To the fire that burns within your heart for him.”

He smiled and set off back toward the castle. He put the bike away and made his way down the halls to the library. Pushing the door open, he took a second to soak up the smell of books and sunlight, the feel of the warmth on his face.

When he opened his eyes, he strode over to the bookshelves in the back, where the history books were kept. He scanned the shelves, looking for the next book Virgil would be reading, as he usually put his favorite bookmark in it beforehand if he couldn’t get to it right away, only to find it missing. The tapping of shoes on wood sounded behind him and he spun around, hand going to his sword.

Thomas approached, his hand poised to draw his sword. “How much do you love Virgil, Logan?”

Logan smiled but didn’t relax. “With my whole heart. He’s my whole world and more.”

“Then fight for him!” Thomas unsheathed his sword and rushed Logan, barely giving him time to draw his own sword.

The clang from the impact rang out as Logan was pushed back into the shelves. He threw Thomas off and started on the offensive, slashing and thrusting at him as if this were a real battle to the death rather than a traditional duel with dull blades. Thomas backed out the doorway and into the hall, giving them both more room to move around.

They spun around, Thomas now forcing Logan to walk backwards down the hallway as he defended himself from his older brother. If he hadn’t been running through these corridors since he could toddle after the other two, he might have tripped over the statue that stood against the wall. As it was, he used it to spin his back around and push Thomas down to the floor.

Thomas rolled and came up just in time to defend from Logan’s downward swing. He pushed back up but stayed on the defensive for a bit as Logan forced them both down the hall. The dance went on for the length of the hall until Logan had Thomas’ back pressed to the wall, Logan’s sword at his throat and Thomas’ on the ground.

“Do you yield?” Logan asked.

Thomas smiled. “I do.”

Logan pulled his sword away from the others throat, putting the blade back into its sheath. “Have I passed the test?”

Thomas’ smile widened as he clapped him on the shoulder. “You have and I couldn't be prouder. Happy Day, Brother.”

Loan grinned back at him. “Thank you. Now, where have you hidden my groom?”

Thomas laughed. “This way.”

They walked down the hall in companionable silence. Logan just now noticed how late it was, being midafternoon already. He picked up a small cluster of grapes from a side table as he passed, sharing them with Thomas. The crown prince had most likely been waiting with Virgil the whole day to keep him company and make sure he wasn’t too bored.

They reached a door and Thomas gestured for Logan to go first, letting the couple have a moment of privacy. The younger prince thanked the elder, briefly clasping his shoulder on his way in.

Logan pushed the door open to find Virgil, his nose buried in a book as it usually was. He chuckled and approached his fiancé, dipping down onto one knee to be level with Virgil in his chair.

 “Hey,” He said, his voice soft.

Virgil looked up, almost dropping the large tome he’d balanced on his lap like it was a small paperback, and smiled as his face brightened. “Hi.”

Logan leaned into his personal space just a bit. “Still willing to put up with this family?”

Virgil nodded, his smile widening into a grin. “Of course! They’ve been nothing but kind this whole time and I can’t wait to spend forever with you.”

Logan stood and held a hand out to him. “Well then, shall we go do just that?”

Virgil took the hand and allowed Logan to pull him to his feet and into his arms. They stayed in the hug for a moment, both reluctant to pull back. Eventually, they did pull away and moved to join Thomas outside, still holding hands.

Thomas smiled at them before leading the way down the hall. “Happy Day to you both.”

Virgil looked at Logan in confusion. “People have been saying that to me all day. What does it mean?”

“It’s something people say to engaged couples on the day of the wedding. It both acknowledges that it is a happy day for the couple while also giving them a little wish that it stays that way.”

Virgil nodded and hummed, leaning his head into Logan’s briefly. “We have a similar saying in my culture. We say ‘Many Wishes’ as a way of blessing the day.”

Thomas smiled at the pair as they arrived at the changing room. “Alright you two, go get ready for your big day.”

They both went into the room, which had been divided in half for the illusion of privacy. Little signs that hung on the screen divider directed Logan to the right and Virgil to the left. When they came back out, Logan couldn’t help but stare at Virgil. His hair was like it had been at the party, swept off to the side and as neat as it would get, and he was wearing a pure white shirt and pants with a softly purple jacket.

Logan’s own outfit was similar, a white shirt and pants with a light blue jacket and a tie that matched Virgil’s jacket. His hair was swept back and his crown was firmly in place.

Logan smiled as they rejoined Thomas and continued walking. “Many Wishes, my north star.”

“Happy Day, pebble.”

Thomas laughed as they reached the wedding hall. “Many Wishes to the cutest royal couple around.”

Logan’s head spun to face him and his lips tilted up mischievously. “I’m telling Orville you said that!”

Thomas’ eyes widened. “Wait, no!”

“Too late! No take backs!” Logan tugged on Virgil’s hand and the pair entered the hall.

The guests were all seated and ready as it was mer tradition for the couple to come down the aisle together. Thomas slipped in around them, taking the time to stick his tongue out at Logan, before he crouch-ran to the front to sit with the rest of the royal family. The traditional wedding march began to play as the royal couple started down the aisle.

Remy winked at them from the crowd, a cowed Janus by their side. Logan turned his head away and back to Virgil’s father. The entire royal mer family had been given legs and the ability to use them for the duration of three days, today being the second, courtesy of Remy apologizing for Janus’ actions. So, the mer king had agreed to officiate the wedding.

Virgil and Logan reached the front and the pianist stopped, moving back to her seat in the crowd. Virgil’s father, King Murphy, raised his hands to quiet any lingering chatter. “We’ve gathered today to celebrate the shining light within these two wonderful souls. My son,” he placed a hand on Virgil’s shoulder, “and the man he trusts with his life,” his other hand was placed on Logan’s shoulder. “Now, do you have vows prepared?”

Virgil nodded and pulled out a sheet of paper, smiling at Logan in a way that was just for him. “Logan, you have become my lover, companion, and best friend. I wouldn’t choose to spend forever with anyone else. Your love gives me hope, your smile gives me joy, you make me a better man. I promise to stay by your side, that you will never have to face the world alone as we walk together through life. I will love you with every second that slips through our hands like sand.”

Logan smiled, his eyes shining with tears. “Virgil, you are the strength I didn’t know I was missing. I promise to love you past the day the world crumbles. I promise to share my whole heart and mind with you and to show you every day how deeply I care about you. I will love you loyally and fiercely, never to make you worry. I promise to be there to catch you when you fall, carry you over every threshold, and fall in love with you all over again every time the sun rises.”

King Murphy made a subtle gesture and the musician started up again, this time having Roman come down the aisle with the rings on a pillow. His face was one of concentration, the boy desperate not to drop the jewelry. They were relatively simple bands, made of silver with a simplistically curling wave carved into them. In the center of the outside, a small starburst was carved into it.

They all thanked Roman as he successfully brought the rings up. Logan and Virgil both took the rings, knowing by size which to give to the other. Logan slid Virgil’s ring onto him, knowing the words that were carved into the inside of the band read ‘Jewel of the sea’ as he said, “With this ring, I thee wed.”

Virgil carefully guided the other ring to rest at the base of Logan’s finger, the inside reading ‘Jewel of my heart’ and repeated the words back, “With this ring, I thee wed.”

Turning, King Murphy picked up a long strand of seaweed. “This is a symbol of the strength of a marriage. In my culture, it is tied around the tails of the engaged to be married couple. However,” he chuckled good naturedly, “that’s not as easy to do here. So, it’ll be used to join their wrists.”

Gently, Virgil’s left wrist and Logan’s right one were laid on top of the seaweed, the plant carefully tied over them. “The longer this stays tied,” King Murphy continued, “The happier the marriage is said to be.” He lifted the joined hands so the entire crowd could see them. “I now pronounce you man and mer. You may kiss the groom.”

Logan’s left hand came up to cradle Virgil’s face as he placed a gentle kiss on Virgil’s lips. When they pulled away, he smiled. “Hello, Husband.”

Virgil giggled, light and airy and so inherently him it made joy bubble in Logan’s chest. “Hello, Husband.”

Five minutes later, they were greeting guests, still joined at the wrist. It was awkward but they did manage to cut the cake and eat something without damaging the seaweed. They mingled with the guests and even danced together, getting in a lovely slow dance as the sun set. By the time the stars were showing on the horizon, Virgil was drooping against Logan. His head was bumping against Logan’s, his hair tickling the back of Logan’s neck and he was, accidentally or not, nudging the crown off his head.

Logan laughed. “Alright, darling, we’ll leave.”

Virgil took a sharp intake of breath. “What? I’m awake.”

Logan couldn’t help but smile fondly at his very tired husband. “Just let me say goodbye to a few more guests and we can go, alright?”

Virgil nodded. “Sorry, it’s been a long day.”

The last guest they moved to say their farewells to was Remy, who smiled and tilted their sunglasses down. “It was a pleasure to attend. I’m surprised I was even invited.”

“We thought it was only fair to give you an invite as, without you, I don’t think we ever would have had the chance to fall in love.” Virgil replied.

“Well, in that case, thank you again. Now, I do have an actual gift for you two.”

Virgil smiled. “Gifts aren’t required.”

Logan laughed. “I’d like to say you’ve done enough but I admit I’m curious as to where this is going.”

Remy nodded. “Understandable, babes. Don’t worry, this one will be harmless.” He waved a hand and the amulet around his neck glowed again as Logan felt the pollen-like magic settle over him again. “Now, you both have the ability to switch between tail and legs at will. That way, you don’t have to ask me over every time you wanna see the in-laws.”

Logan smiled. “Thank you, Remy.”

The pair made their way over to where Orville and Patton had already set up a car, their bags in the back. It was a bit of a dance to get them both in there but it worked and soon Virgil was curled against Logan’s side as the car drove off into the night, headed for their honeymoon. 

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[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Family Matters

Summary: Belle and Gold spring into action after Neal calls them in an emergency, and Belle reflects on the meaning of family. 

Written for the @a-monthly-rumbelling January non-smut prompt: Dealing with a family crisis. 

Rated: T

CW: Medical themes, pregnancy loss.

Family Matters

It was a perfectly normal Friday night when they got the call. The only sound was the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner. Belle was curled up on the chaise longue with a book, and Gold was sitting in his armchair browsing the catalogue for the auction he was going to in Boston the next week. 

His phone ringing wasn’t normally a cause for alarm, but it was rare enough for someone to call him at eleven o’clock at night that it sent a current of worry through his veins, and the current of worry increased when he looked at the caller ID and saw that it was Neal. 

Belle looked up, her brow furrowing in concern. “Who is it?”

“It’s Neal.”

“Strange for him to be calling so late.”

“Very.” He answered, and almost immediately, the current of worry turned into a full torrent. 

“Dad, Emma’s in the hospital and I don’t know what to do.”

Neal's voice was choked, on the verge of tears, and Gold took a deep breath, trying to calm the torrent. Neal was an adult now and a father himself, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t also still need his own father to rescue him every now and then. 

“Ok, what happened?” He beckoned Belle over so that she could hear as well. 

“She’s had really bad stomach pains all day, she thought it was just something she ate. It just kept getting worse and worse until she passed out… I saw her drop, I barely caught her in time…  I called 911 and they took her into the hospital, they think she’s got some internal bleeding somewhere…”

“OK. We’re coming. How’s Henry doing?”

“He’s ok, just a bit shaken, he doesn’t really understand what’s going on.”

“Just hold on for a little while. Belle and I are coming.”

“Thanks Dad. I’ll see you soon.”

Belle was already in the hallway pulling on her coat and boots, and Gold took a few moments to check that the house was secure and grab the insurance paperwork from his office - Emma should have been covered by the Sheriff’s office but it paid to be prepared. The drive across town to Neal and Emma’s apartment did not take long, but every moment of it was spent in tense silence. Neal was standing on the doorstep waiting for them, an anxious-looking Henry balanced on his hip, aware that something bad was happening but that it was too much for his one-year-old brain to try and comprehend. 

“Hey Henry,” Belle cooed, taking him out of Neal’s arms and giving her stepson a little peck on the cheek, whispering it’ll be ok, I promise in his ear. “Why don’t you come with Nana Belle and we’ll let Daddy and Grandpa get everything sorted out, eh? You should be in bed, it’s very late. I guess all the commotion woke you up.”

Belle took Henry back into the apartment and Neal, no longer having to worry about staying calm and focussed on his son, crumpled against Gold’s shoulder. Neal had never been the most physically affectionate of people, not really a hugger, and the fact he was crying on his father’s shoulder stood as testament to just how scared he was for Emma. 

“Let’s go to the hospital,” Gold said. “I think you need to be there. I can always come back and get anything that Emma might need.”

“I’ll be ok, I just needed someone to come watch Henry, I can go…”

“Neal, I don’t want you ending up in the hospital as well.” He held up Neal’s hand, which was still shaking. “I’ll drive. Belle’s got Henry. We’re all here.”

Neal nodded, going back inside to grab his things before following Gold out to the Cadillac.

“Thanks for dropping everything,” he murmured as they set off towards the hospital. 

“It’s what families do. You’d have done the same if it was Belle.”

Neal nodded. “Yeah, I would.”

The rest of the drive to the hospital was made in silence. As worried as he was about Emma, Neal gave Gold something to focus on, knowing that he had to be strong so that Neal could be afraid. He thought back over all the family crises that they had lived through so far; mercifully, there were few of them. This was certainly the first time any of them had been in the hospital since Henry was born, and whilst Neal had done his fair share of panicking at the time, that had ultimately been a joyous occasion rather than a crisis. 

Gold could only hope that the outcome here would be a good one in the long run. 

X

Belle settled herself in the armchair in the corner of Henry’s room, cradling the tired toddler on her lap. She opened the picture book that she had selected to try and get him back to sleep, but she didn’t start reading it for a few minutes, wondering what could have happened and hoping against hope that Emma would be ok. She was certainly in the best hands, but that didn’t stop Belle from worrying.

Still, there was nothing she could do to help Neal and Gold and Emma, and the most useful thing she could do was to stay here with Henry. The poor boy could obviously tell that something dreadful was going on, and if she could reassure him and get him off to sleep so that his parents didn’t have to worry about him as well as everything else that was happening, then that was what she would do. 

She knew that children were far more intuitive than everyone gave them credit for, so Henry would probably be picking up on her unease even if he couldn’t actually give voice to that, so she took a deep breath and tried to keep her voice nice and even and sing-song. 

“Ok Henry. Let’s see what Spot the Dog is up to tonight.”

By the time they finished with Spot, Henry was asleep again, curled up against Belle’s chest, and she sighed, deciding to sit with him for a while instead of putting him back to bed. His warm weight was a comfort to her, keeping her grounded and reminding her that there was a little human relying on her to keep him safe whilst his parents were dealing with other horrors. As long as she was holding Henry, Belle knew that she wouldn’t go to pieces. 

She didn’t know how long she sat there in the dim light, listening to Henry’s soft breathing as she wondered what was happening in the hospital, looking at her phone every couple of seconds. It was on silent to avoid disturbing Henry, and she was nervous of somehow missing a call from Gold or Neal. The hours kept ticking by until she finally heard a key in the lock and someone tiptoe into the apartment.

“Belle?”

It was Gold’s whispered voice, and a moment later, he stepped into Henry’s room. He looked dead on his feet, but he smiled when he saw her sitting with Henry, and Belle took that to be a good sign.

“What’s going on?” she asked. “How’s Emma? Do they know what’s wrong?”

Gold nodded, coming over and leaning against the chair.

“It was an ectopic pregnancy.” He sighed. “Emma didn’t even know she was pregnant.”

“Is she going to be ok?”

“Yeah. She’s stable and on painkillers and they’ll operate in the morning. The doctors are quite confident.”

“How’s Neal holding up?”

“Well, he’s just about holding it together. He calmed down a lot after we could get in to see her. We both did. I forgot how much I hate hospital waiting rooms. He’s still there; I just came back to get a few things for Emma, I’ll bring him back later.” He was unable to stifle a yawn. “Sorry. The adrenaline’s wearing off now and I’m exhausted.”

“Yeah. I know the feeling. Still, at least it looks like the worst is over.”

They stayed there in silence for a while until Henry shifted in Belle’s arms and she decided that it would probably be a good idea to put him back in his bed so that he could get some better sleep. Hearing the news had lifted a great weight of uncertainty off her mind. Of course, they weren’t out of the woods just yet, there was still the operation in the morning, and it would take time for Emma to recover, but for now the crisis was, if not over completely, then at least manageable now. 

She followed Gold out of Henry’s room, helping him pack bits and bobs for Emma’s stay in the hospital. It was one of the marks of what made a family a family, she thought, the way that they all acted in a situation like this. Belle would be the first to admit that theirs was not exactly the most conventional of families, since she was less than ten years older than her stepson and already happy to be an honorary grandmother, but she and Gold had swept in to help without a second thought. It was just what families did for each other. 

In the hallway, as Gold was getting ready to make the trip back to the hospital, Belle slipped her arms around his middle, going up on her toes to kiss him. 

“Thank you for making me part of this family,” she said. 

Gold gave a soft laugh. “Even when you end up staying up half the night watching your step-grandson in the middle of a medical emergency?”

“Even then. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

“Me neither.” Gold kissed her again, and Belle closed the door after him with a little wave. 

As long as they had each other, they’d weather any storm that life threw at them.

[clonecest-bin-account]

I don’t know if you take prompts on tumblr but I love your fics! And I just wanted to know if you’d do Dogma/Case Dogma/Tup Hardcase/Dogma/Tup? Either nsfw or sfw is up to you! If you end up doing it thank you so much!

(I’ll let you know anon that you sent me into the rabbit hole with these three. Have this Dogma/Hardcase NSFW for now, but know that I’m gonna write something for Dogma/Tup and Dogma/Hardcase/Tup as well. Anyway, I hope you like it!)

Hardcase is pretty pumped about this: they’re going to disobey Krell’s orders. He can’t wait to fly again, and this time he’s sure he’ll get it. Last time’s disaster doesn’t count.

“Dogma will be on our case for sure,” Jesse says however.

“Mmh, you’re right,” Fives replies, scratching his goatee, “We need to find a way to distract him, or else he might rat us out to Krell.”

What should they do? Normally they’d rely on Rex for help, but he’s made clear that there��s nothing he can do in this situation.

Suddenly, Hardcase has an idea. It will forbid him from going with Fives and Jesse, but at least like this he’ll make sure nobody knows anything about their plan. Besides, it could also be… exciting.

“I might have something in mind for that.”

 Dogma’s moans echo in the empty - beside them - barracks. One would think someone as uptight as him - a true stick in the mud - would try to keep quieter, but not him; it makes things way more fun.

It was pretty easy getting him to the barracks: Hardcase simply asked him for some help regarding his blaster and he followed him, even though he was suspicious as to why he was asking him of all people.

All it took however was to corner him against the wall, and all Dogma’s suspicions became something else.

 In insight, Hardcase should’ve expected that Dogma is just a repressed vod; what he could’ve never expected is how much he’s into this whole thing.

From outside, everybody must be hearing them, but that’s not what Hardcase is thinking about - he couldn’t give two shits about that at the moment.

What has gotten his full attention is the way Dogma, on all fours on the bunk, is pushing against him at every single thrust, the way he keeps ordering him to go faster, the way he’s grabbed the back of his neck and he isn’t letting go, scratching at his skin. It puts a smirk on Hardcase’s lips.

Dogma has always scolded him for being a troublemaker, but look at him now.

“So kriffing tight…”

 He hears it when Fives and Jesse depart; those sounds couldn’t be mistaken for anything else.

Dogma, on the other hand, is so taken by what is happening that he doesn’t notice it, which is good because that makes Hardcase’s job easier, but it’s also a testament on how far gone Dogma actually is.

“Why did you stop?”

Hardcase looks down on Dogma, at his trembling body glistening with sweat, at his lips hanging open, at his clouded eyes. He shoots him an apologetic look.

“Sorry. Got distracted.”

He resumes his merciless pace, pushing Dogma more and more against the bunk at each thrust, until he’s completely lying down, trapped between the mattress and Hardcase, who doesn’t stop hammering inside him.

“KRIFF KRIFF KRIFF KRIFF!”

Dogma shouts as he comes, Hardcase following close when he feels his walls clench around his cock.

 He pulls out of Dogma, and he even has the decency not to collapse over him, rolling on his left instead.

Well, this went better than expected. Honestly, had he known this is what was going to happen, he would’ve made a move on Dogma already a long time ago.

Still, now he needs a break--

 Before he can do anything about it, Dogma’s already settled on his lap and, by the looks of it, he’s not doing that just to use Hardcase as a pillow.

“More.”

Hardcase can’t help but to gape at Dogma’s request. Is he for real? A smirk appears on Hardcase’s lips then. Looks like he had underestimated him.

“I’ll show you more,” he mutters, and immediately he’s on Dogma again.

 They go at it again, and again, and again. The only reason why they aren’t doing anything now is because Dogma has passed out from exhaustion, and honestly Hardcase isn’t that far behind passing out as well.

It’s nice to have someone who matches his energy, but this might be too much even for Hardcase.

He hears from outside brothers cheering and yelling, along with some running. Fives and Jesse must be back.

For a moment he wonders if he should join them; he wants to join them. The thing is, however, that he also doesn’t want to leave Dogma alone - he bets he wouldn’t be happy if he woke up and found himself alone.

He curls himself around Dogma then, chest pressed against his back, and circles his waist with one arm. Since he’s here already he can always get some actual rest and catch up on some sleep; he knows he’ll need all his energy later.

He only hopes that Dogma will forgive him for this.