#ok this is smoking hot and I love it despite myself

[ingridaway]

haneda airport chaos

finally it was time for me to leave, i checked out of my hotel, did some final exploring of ikebukero and decided i was too hot to keep walking so i headed to the airport. my flight wasn’t until 10 but i got to the airport around 4. i ended up just scrounging up my remaining money for food and sitting by my gate on a lovely reclining chair. finally it was getting closer to 9:30, our boarding time, however we were still not allowed to board. i could see the plane out the window so i just waited longer and longer. finally as i was about to leave the gate in such for a smoking room they made an announcement. the flight was cancelled and i wouldn’t be leaving tokyo tonight. at this stage in the trip i was alone and many of my friends where already back in melbourne. qantas organised free accomodation for everyone on the flight, thank god because i though i’d have to sleep on the ground inside the airport and i was completely broke, and we all followed some very stressed stewardess’s back through customs and to the baggage claim. finally we lined up to be set up with a flight and a hotel room. while in line i made friends with two young girls and a pretentious family from sydney. they looked after my bags and spot in line while i went to lawsons for alcohol. at this point it was about 1am and a young girl fainted while in line. the stewardess’s were running around saying “is anyone a doctor?!” it was like a movie, eventually the ambulance came and the girl was fine. by this point in the night i was tipsy, tired and had completely surrendered to the situation. finally i made it to the desk and had a hotel organised for me as well as a direct flight to melbourne for the next night. the hotel was connected to the terminal and was actually quite nice and i was given a double room despite being on my own so i had plenty of room. after getting settled and forcing my brother to send me some money, i journeyed down to the 24/7 lawsons and bought more alcohol and snacks. By this point it was coming up 3am and i was rushing up the escalator to go to bed, of course i tripped and cut my toe open so i had to limp to the elevator while my hotel slipper filled with blood. a very kind australian lady noticed and said “oh my god are you ok?” sleep deprived and tipsy i just said “i think so” and hurried to my room. 

the next morning i woke up late and missed the hotel breakfast. i explained over the phone to my mum that i wouldn’t be home for another day, because she had woken up in the morning expecting me. the hotel extended everyone’s checkout time so i had until 3pm to just relax in bed. of course i took multiple trips down to the smoking room, where i met an australian grandma with a very rough accent and a big kiwi guy who was missing a business meeting due to the flight delay. i ended up giving him one of my ciggys and he insisted on giving me $20 aud for it. finally i checked out, checked in to my flight and hoped for the best. by this point i was feeling major deja vu. all ended well though and i ended up on boarding my new flight with no trouble and leaving tokyo that night. apart from some turbulence and a kid vomiting on himself the flight was fine as i knocked myself out with sleeping pills. i made it back to the melbourne cold the next morning with no issues, i even managed to sneak a few extra cigarette packets through customs. 

[honeysuckleharringtons]

"I truly can't control my heart around you" (I think that's what it was lol) with Billy, plssss <33

hello anon that i definitely don't know irl 😉 i ~definitely~ haven't told you this already but i am so sorry it took me so long to post this. ily, thank you for being patient with me 🫶🏻

"The L Word" ~ B. Hargrove

Summary: When Y/N asks Billy why he likes her so much, his answer is a much different outcome than she'd expected.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1,031

Content Warning: Billy smoking cigarettes, swearing, i think that might be it?

Genre: Fluff. i mean, i guess Angst if you squint but i'd say it's mostly Fluff.

Extra Notes: hmmm, none that i can think of right now!

Based On the Prompt: "I truly can’t control my heart when I'm around you."

Originally Written: between 09/17/22 and 09/19/22

Beta Read By: @reidsbookclub 🫶🏻

honeysuckleharringtons's masterlist can be found here!

ship prompts can be found here!

honeysuckleharringtons's ask box can be found here!

"Hey, how come you're so nice to me?"

This question had been prompted by what was probably seen as the smallest gesture in any other relationship—the simple act of Billy wrapping his jacket around my shoulders.

His right hand was laced with mine as the other held a cigarette, nearly dropping it as he registered my question. "What?" he asked, seeming genuinely confused.

"I mean, I don't know of any other girl in Hawkins you'd willingly lend your favorite denim jacket to," I further clarified.

Billy was quick to bounce back with, "Well, no other girl in Hawkins is as smokin' hot as you are, now are they, pretty girl?"

Normally, I would've blushed at his usage of a nickname, but instead, I found myself letting out a light scoff. "Seriously?" I asked, sliding myself up further onto the hood of his car.

He continued to lightly lean against it, taking in a whiff of the mixture of night air and cigarette smoke. "Yeah, seriously. Everyone else is either a blonde bimbo or just looks like straight up dog shit."

I cut my eyes at him sharply. "Not what I meant."

He slowly raised the cigarette to his lips, taking a long inhale. He slowly exhaled, the smell of smoke quickly wafting into my nose. "You're not gonna let it go, are you?"

I looked at home straight faced, shaking my head.

He let out a deep sigh, his expression slightly softening. "You know… it's like… I…" he struggled to collect his thoughts.

"You OK? I didn't break you, did I?" I giggled, reaching up to run my hand through his hair.

He grabbed my hand mid-stroke, moving it to his chest. "You feel that?"

I could feel the light thumps through the white cotton that sat tightly against his skin. "Uh huh," I answered, unsure where this was going.

"That only happens when I'm with you."

"What? Your heart beating?" I asked sarcastically. "Because if so, you should definitely go see a doctor because your heart stopping that often is definitely not supposed to happen."

This time, he cut his eyes at me. "Not what I meant, smartass."

I looked over his face as he began to collect his thoughts once more. He licked his lips as he searched for words, his eyebrows ruffling in perplexity.

Finally, he spoke up once more. "I don't know… it's like, I can't really control my heart when I'm around you," he said, taking a long pause. Eventually, he continued with, "If I have to be honest, it kinda scares me."

"Bills," I started, my expression gentle as I moved my hand back to his hair, "I think what you're feeling is a four-letter word that begins with L."

Despite being together for a few months, I was the only one who'd ever said the L word. Ever since Billy was a kid, he'd had this misperception that love was rare—that it was something you had to earn, not something that was inherent in everyone. I tried not to push the L word on Billy, but I believed I'd loved him harder than I'd ever loved anyone before. What was the harm in telling him so? After all, even if he couldn't verbally say it, his actions said it—he loved me too.

He scoffed, raising the cigarette to his mouth once more. "I think I'd know if I felt that way, sweetheart," he commented before inhaling again.

I sighed, hopping off the hood of the car. "You know you're not as tough as you think you are, Billy Hargrove."

He rolled his eyes, a sarcastic look appearing on his face. He leaned in and exhaled, blowing smoke just inches away from my face. "And you're not as smart as you think you are," he replied, almost daringly. "You think you've got me all figured out, huh?"

I ran a hand along his chest, patting lightly. "Trust me, big boy, I've had you figured out since the second I saw you step out of this Camaro and into the parking lot of Hawkins High."

"Is that so?" he smirked, lingering ever-so-close to my face.

"Uh huh," I nodded, "And I've figured out that what you feel for me… it's called love, Hargrove."

He rolled his eyes, licking his lips once more. "You're not gonna let it go, are you?"

"Never," I answered, shaking my head. "I mean, I've been waiting months for you to say it. I don't get why you're so scared of it. It's just a word, it's not gonna hurt you."

"It's more than just a word, Y/N," he protested. "It's actions. It's showing someone that they deserve to be loved. You don't just go throwing the L word around like it's confetti. In my eyes, it has to be earned."

I moved my arms up, dangling them over his shoulders. "Are you saying I haven't earned it?" I inquired, one eyebrow cocked upward.

He took a deep breath, eyes wandering for a few seconds. "No, I suppose you have earned it."

The air stayed silent for a beat, a comfortable silence. He ran a finger through my hair lightly, brushing some loose hairs behind my ear. I would have stayed like that all night if the universe had allowed me to.

"So?" I asked, finally breaking the silence.

"So?" he replied, his tone filled with sarcasm.

"I think you owe me something," I stated, "A certain four-letter word, perhaps?"

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Woman, you are so persistent," he chuckled.

"Thank you. I've heard my persistence is one of my better qualities," I told him, a giggle threatening to fall from my tongue.

He let out a long sigh, moving his hand back to my hair. "I guess I do—L word you, I mean."

I leaned in, placing my hands lightly against the material of his white tee shirt. I left a long and sweet kiss on his lips, feeling nearly dizzy when I registered that of all the mouths in Hawkins I could've kissed, I'd had the pleasure of kissing Billy's. "I guess I L word you too, Billy Hargrove."

-> Taglist: @ducky-is-dead-inside

[eddiemunsonappreciationsociety]

THIS IS OUR YEAR

Chapter Six: Sleepover

"Come on Nance, let's get you home." Johnathan sighs as he helps his girlfriend to his feet. She goes to protest but stumbles and realises there's no point.

I catch a brief glimpse of sadness on Steve's face as he watches Nancy get helped to her feet. It's gone quickly and he stands up himself, stretching as he does. His shirt raises as he does and I can't help but stare as his toned stomach and snail trail peek out. I snatch my eyes away in time to catch Eddie looking at me. My fave flushes bright red as I'm caught and I flash him grin. He looks at Steve, then me, thinks and then pulls a face as if to say "fair enough" then winks at me.

Fuck.

He was trying to kill me.

"You going home with them?" Eddie asks, I note a hint of something in his tone.

"My mum thinks I'm at a sleepover so I can't go back until at least six, so if you wanna chill longer I'm up for that."

"It's getting cold, we can hang out in my van?"

"What every girl wants, to be in the back of some dudes van." Nancy snorts as Johnathan begins to lead her off.

In the firelight I see Eddie flush and look down, embarrassed.

"I think it sounds like a boss time." I reassure Eddie and his gaze lifts to me and he flashes me a heart melting smile

We put out the fire, gather up our belongings and rubbish and headed back to the carpark. My drunken feet betray me and I stumble, Eddie catches me every time I do.

"Careful Princess, your ankles will be bruised if you carry on."

"You gonna kiss em better?" I tease, intoxicants loosening my inhibitions.

"Well if that's the offer I'll throw you the rest of the way and kiss whatever hurts."

Words fail me as we break out of the treeline into the carpark. Johnathan is trying to get Nancy into the car but she's resisting.

"I want to say goodbye to Tallu-luuuu-lah" she is yelling, words echoing into the darkness.

"I'm here Nance," I laugh, hugging her and then edging her into the seat.

Nancy is snoring in the back before we finish our goodbyes, hugs and promises of more time are given. We watch as the car drives away and we're on our own again. He confidently strides over to his van and makes me stand to the side whilst he climbs in the back doors. I hear rustling and swearing as he moves around.

"Ok, you can come in now." he sounds half out of breath as I climb in.

His van is tidier than I expected, he'd laid out some blankets and pillows and pushed the instruments to the corners. The remaining drinks and his lunchbox sat in the middle. He closes the doors behind us and the darkness is illuminated by a battery lantern.

We begin to fall into easy conversation, drinks, lines and joints in between laughs and revelations. We tease each others music tastes where we differ, but glow when we have a mutual love.

"Stevie Knicks is my god." I announce, handing the joint to Eddie.

"I will give you Fleetwood Mac, they are godly in theor own right." he pauses as he inhales. "Your voice is similar to Stevie's."

My face burns red.

"That's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me."

"It's true, I couldn't place it earlier."

The night gradually winds downs and soon we're lying down next to each other, under a soft green blanket. My head's leaning on his shoulder as we talk, his arm under my head. Conversation begins to die out as the van spins a little. Eddie licks his lips for a third time and despite how messy i'm feeling I'm suddenly super aware of his body pressed against mine. In the quiet I can hear his breath, slightly ragged as his other hand moves to my hip. Just as I'm sure he's going to kiss me he pulls back.

I feel myself burn in rejection.

"I'm sorry Bubblegum, I want to kiss you so fucking bad 'cos you're smoking hot and like way cooler than me but we've had a lot to drink and to sniff and smoke and I don't feel comfortable. I will take another opportunity, should it present itself, but maybe just stoned."

I look at him steadily.

"Thank you." I say slowly as I process everything. I was thankful, I was aching for him to stick his tongue in my mouth but maybe after hours of partying isn't right for either of us.

"Do not thank me, is the bar so low for men?" he shakes his head and moves back so we're cuddling again. "We will cuddle and I will almost certainly get erect if we spoon so I have warned you."

I move so we're spooning and I feel his legs tense.

"I was warned." I say, snuggling in, my ass rubbing against his clothed lap.

"God damn it, you in this fucking skirt." he intakes a sharp breath. "You're gonna be my downfall, aren't you, Bubblegum?"

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Podoboo

Debut: Super Mario Bros.

Before I start this post, I’d like to clear something up. Podoboo? Yes, Podoboo! I’m well aware these enemies are often called Lava Bubbles and that’s the name Nintendo has been trying to make standardised these days, but you know what? You can’t make me! Podoboo is a lot cuter, plus its the name I grew up with and changes in society scare me and cause me to lash out! Maybe Lava Bubble is closer to the Japanese name of just “Bubble”, but since when has that been a factor in any of the localised names? Do you really want to refer as Lakitu as “Jugemu”, huh? I’ll have you know one of my civil rights as a citizen of Wet Dry World is to refer to Mario enemies with whichever official name I please. Like it or leave it!

So this is a post about Podoboo. Do you like Podoboo? I certainly Podo-do! They are perhaps the most generic design you could give to a Mario enemy, a visibly Dangerous Thing with two eyes, but they have always charmed me! It’s the little things, like their distinct shape and the fact their pupils are somewhat wider than most obstacles like this. They bring me comfort in dire times. No matter what happens, I know Podoboo will be there, jumping at a set height in a particular spot of lava! Without them I would be nothing! 

So simple is their design, isn’t it weird to think they started off as even simpler? The Podoboos in the first SMB game are completely blind, and with no eyes they may as well not be creatures at all! Of course, I’m very glad they are creatures, and their iconic behaviour was there from the start! They love to jump, of course! There is nothing they would rather be doing!

Awaken! As of Super Mario World, they have been gifted sight and are no longer blind to the sins of this world! Hurray! What do you think they see as they jump up and down? I’m surprised it doesn’t make them dizzy!

You’ll be glad to hear Podoboos have had an expansive career ever since, now with their new trademark eyes! After all, they are THE lava enemy! Anywhere you’ve got that tasty hot fire juice, these guys are soon to follow! Here they are in Super Mario RPG, called Sparkies here because they couldn’t make up their minds on a localized name and probably because they confused them with Li’l Sparkies. In Yoshi’s Story they even called them Spark Spooks! Geez, I’ll even take the name Lava Bubble over this! But doesn’t this render look nice and juicy?

Though any great career has its flops, and I have to say... I am usually the first to campaign for the unique designs from the first three Paper Marios, but I do not really like this Lava Bubble! This takes away from their distinct Mario-y charm and makes them look like a Fire Enemy you could find in any other game! Though in the RPGs they are able to float around without needing any lava, the ones in Super Paper Mario act just like the platformer ones, jumping around despite not looking like they should be doing that! Ok!

The Podoboo from New Super Mario Bros. DS just wasn’t trying very hard at all. Come on! They could’ve it a bit more justice than this! 

Ah, there we go! The Podoboos in New Super Mario Bros. Wii decided to finally stop messing about and go back to what everyone loved from them in Super Mario World. I encourage experimenting with your identity, of course, but it’s good to be back, and now they are more mortal than ever! A single shot from an Ice Flower is enough to instantly vaporize a Podoboo in a puff of smoke, which is a bit scary! Are they really just pure fireballs that can be put out just like that? What a frightening life to live!

And in Super Mario Galaxy 2, they... hey, wait!! You took away their eyes again! Now you are just being inconsiderate. This outraged me as a kid! One of my most vivid memories of playing this game with my brother involved chanting “Podoboo rights! They deserve eyes!” because this upset me so much. Maybe my past as an activist is why I am so passionate about Mario enemies these days... I think I was 100 percent correct in hindsight, and now you know some of my backstory, too!

What relief it gave me to find out they were back to their usual selves in 3D Land! And they have been ever since, of course getting redesigned for the modern Paper Mario games and everything. 

What’s this? Blue Podoboos! Podo-blues, even...! They show up in 3D World, in its incredibly cool-looking blue lava levels! It’s a well known fact that blue fire is objectively cooler than red fire, and it seems even the Podoboos wanted in on the action! Blue Lava is an actual phenomenon I’ve just learnt, though it’s a sulfuric fire rather than lava. Could it be that Podoboos, being made entirely of lava, adapt to their environment? I’m not sure...

As an aside, the blue Lava Bubbles aren’t to be confused with Lava Bubble (Blue), which are from Mario Galaxy and show up during King Kaliente’s fight! They hop around on the ground and have square-ish eyes, which is enough to make them different I guess!

The Podoboo’s next big appearance, in Super Mario Odyssey, was in Soup! Yes you heard me- Soup! Some delightfully pepto-bismol pink coloured soup, no less. This is why I wasn’t too sure about Podoboo’s being able to adapt to their environment earlier- the Luncheon Kingdom is a big soup volcano after all, but the fact these Lava Bubbles are able to live in it is very interesting!

There is simply no way I would talk about Odyssey here without talking about possibly its greatest achievement, the best game design decision ever made! After decades of begging from fans, they finally did the impossible- they made Podoboo playable! Now it is Podo-you! It is quite unlike the other captures in the game, since it keeps the Podoboo’s simple-looking eyes and simply adds onto it a nose and a mustache! You may very well be the world’s first Podoboo with a sense of smell! I wonder if that is a benefit or not. The constant smell of soup might be a bit overpowering. 

Not only is this delightful, but it gives us more insight into the life of the humble Podoboo. First of all is the fact that they can swim around in lava, not just jump in one spot! Do you think they do this when we aren’t looking? I really hope so! Imagine a school of Podoboos swimming through molten lava in a castle’s moat. How delightful! 

The Luncheon Kingdom is also home to a number of Lava cannons, marked with a Podoboo’s lovely face. These are cannons for only for Podoboos to launch themselves across the kingdom, from one body of lava to another! My question is whether this was technology made by Podoboos themselves or whether it was made by some generous Podoboo lovers as some lava equivalent to the Fish Tube. I think I would take either explanation! 

And last I have a Podoboo appearance that even I, the world’s biggest Podoboo fan, didn’t know about! Paper Mario Color Splash has a Big Lava Bubble boss which speaks with you through a Shy Guy translator! It is quite upset that you barged into its volcano and decided to change the temperature. Mario, of course, kills it anyway, and also the Shy Guy translator without a second thought.

Still, just take a look at this sprite sheet! How cute! A little disappointing that they thinned out the eyes, but wow! They more than make up for it with this range of expressions! An angry Podoboo! A sad Podoboo! And my personal favorite is of course the shocked Podoboo with its assymetrical dot eyes, which might be one of the best things I’ve ever seen. 

To be honest, I could talk about Podoboo forever! If you didn’t stop me, I would go on all day about their every appearance, but I kind of had to limit myself to some of the most relevant ones. I just think they’re neat! And cute! And silly! Besides, I’m Mod F Boy, so I’m basically obliged to talk about fireballs with eyes! But for now I must bid you Pod-adieu! 

...Not! What, did you really believe me? Well you clicked the Keep Reading button, so you only have yourself to blame for this. Here I am talking about more Lava Bubbles from all over, because Lava Bubble’s career has taken it BEYOND the Mario series! Wow!

Podoboo’s had quite a few appearance in the Zelda series, appearing in Link’s Awakening, both the Oracle games, and even Cadence of Hyrule! Their Zelda wiki page is still called Podoboo instead of Lava Bubble, which means those Zelda fans have it better than we do. But wow, this is a pretty angry looking Podoboo! I wouldn’t mess with them! 

Both the Oracle games even had a Podoboo Tower! Amazing! They look quite a lot like a Fire Snake, but they are simply a tower of Podoboos! Why don’t they do this more often?

Hm... The Cadence of Hyrule one doesn’t have any eyes. Come on guys! It’s 2019! Podoboos having eyes should be standard! Though they still made the conscious decision to call them “Podoboos” in 2019, so I can’t be too mad. 

And they have even spread to Minecraft! In the Mario Mash-up Pack, they replace the Magma Cube enemies, and really there was no better choice for this. And now we have a Podoboo Cube! What more could possibly be left for Podoboo?

The answer is obvious- Podoboo in real life! Thanks to a certain Lego Mario set, Podoboo is now real and can be in your home for the small price of 19,99 US dollars. Please give a Podoboo a home today! Just make sure you don’t own anything flammable. 

[ithebookhoarder]

Can I get 83 off the angst list with Javier??? It's: Stay there I'm coming to get you

100 ways to say ily Prompt 83: “Stay there. I’m coming to get you” (Javier Peña x F!Reader)

A/N: Ooo, right in the angst. Let’s get to it! I also assume you meant this prompt list rather than the angst one as that’s only up to 20 ;) Don’t worry. I got you tho! I hope you like it x  Apologies for my terrible attempts at Spanish, so let me know if I got any of it wrong.

Warnings: Swearing, violence, blood, references to death (let me know if I missed anything)

Masterlist:

-------

“Javi?”

“Y/N?” 

The sound of his voice was soft as you held the phone to your ear. You could hear the soft echo of music playing in the background telling you he was definitely at home. 

Why wouldn’t he be, given the hour? It was the morning. 3 am to be precise. He should have been asleep. You should have been asleep, but no, you’d had to chase this lead alone. Like an idiot. A strong willed idiot who should have known better. 

But no. The idea of being able to catch one of Escobar’s top employees had been too tempting an opportunity to miss despite the fact the ambassador had said otherwise. In fact, he’d said fuck no, telling all of you to wait it out and get another source to confirm it. 

Apparently a friend of one of Javi’s ex informants wasn’t what they called reliable... even though she had direct access to the people supposed to be gathering tonight at the club you’d been staking out. 

Two hours you’d watched from your car, having snuck out to do so. If Javier and Steve had wanted to behave for once, then that was their call. They could stay and fill out paperwork to their hearts content. 

You didn’t need them for what was supposed to be a routine stake out and observation mission. 

Or so you’d thought. 

The fact you’d been made by one of the gang about thirty minutes after you’d entered the club had put a pretty big dampener on your plan. You hadn’t noticed as they’d arrived, recognising you after you’d almost caught them at a raid only days ago. 

The sicario had slipped away, managing to leap across one of the roofs as you’d chased them across. Had Steve not grabbed your arm and told you it was too dangerous a jump to risk, you’d have followed. 

But here he was, back and ready for payback... and he’d been quick to point you out to the others surrounding him. 

You knew it had been risky to be here and unfortunately, you were proved horrifically right. The fact you’d got away was a minor miracle, even if you were now bleeding. Badly. 

Damn bullet had missed but the graze was agonising, causing you to wince as you clutched at your side, trying to stem the bleeding as best you could. 

“Javi... I messed up.”

“Y/N, hermosa. What is it? What’s wrong? Where are you?”

His questions were relentless, firing one after the other as he detected the fear in your voice. The pain and regret too. 

“I’m ... I’m in an alley... by Fiebre... I’m sorry...”

“No, no. Don’t be sorry. It’s ok,” Javi soothed, panic underlying each word. You could hear him clattering about, most likely grabbing his keys and rushing out of the apartment next to yours. He didn’t need to ask to know what you were doing or why you were there. He knew you too well. He also knew you wouldn’t be calling like this if you weren’t in trouble. Trouble serious enough he had to get to you. Fast. “I’m on my way. Just stay there. I’m coming to get you.” 

A tear rolled down your cheek as the air suddenly felt a lot colder. Like Javi had just turned on the stupid faulty AC unit in your apartment, like he always did when it got late and he was staying over to look over material or keeping you company. 

God. What you’d have given to have him there to hold you right then. To wrap his familiar leather jacket around you like he always did when you forgot a jacket of your own, still forgetting that the hot days often fell into cooler nights. 

You longed for its touch, its scent, its comfort as you stared at the sky and prayed you lived long enough to regret this. 

“Fuck.” Your car was just down the street. You were so close but you didn’t know if you had the strength to make it there. “Javi... I’m bleeding... the bullet... it hit my side... it won’t stop.”

“Y/N, baby. Listen to me. We’re coming. Steve and I. It’s gonna be ok. Just keep talking to me, ok? Put pressure on it and don’t fall asleep. You hear me?”

“Javi-“

“I’m fucking serious, hermosa. You hear me? You better keep your damn eyes open long enough so I can look at them when we get there, and you make some stupid wise crack about all this.”

A car door slammed. Voices rang out over the line. You could hear an engine start. 

“Javi... I love you... I really do...”

“Y/N? Y/N?”

His voice sounded desperate, terrified even, as you faded away, failing to reply. You simply felt the edges of your vision beginning to dim and the inevitable pull of sleep tugging you toward an abyss you knew there would be no coming back from. 

You couldn’t fight it any longer.

A single tear trickled down your cheek and you felt the phone drop from your hand onto the cold concrete beneath you. 

“I’m sorry.”

——— 

“-y tienes suerte de que te quiera mucho. Odio los hospitales. este lugar es jodidamente horrible. No puedo dejarte aquí solo. no cuando te vas a despertar en cualquier momento. ¿Me escuchas? Tú vas a-“

The voices were coming in waves, washing over you and disappearing just as quickly. 

It was hard to try and hold on to, even if you wanted to. This voice in particular was soft and tempting, familiar even... Coaxing you in over and over every time you slipped back into the darkness that was so warm and soft. 

You’d always been a deep sleeper, slamming your alarm harder than necessary whenever it tried to wake you. 

Now was the same... even if you knew it shouldn’t be. Even if you felt odd, like you were supposed to be somewhere and you’d forgotten... 

But where?

“She should have woken by now-“

“Javi, calm down. She’s gonna be fine. The doctor said so. She just needs to rest. Have a little faith in her. She’s tough. She’ll pull through this.”

“But if she doesn’t ... Steve, I can’t...”

“Hey. Look at me, Peña. It’s gonna be alright. Now come on. Connie said she’d bring some clothes for you...”

There they were. The voices again. 

Somehow, you knew that they were trying to pull you back to wherever you were supposed to be. 

To the aching you felt. To the mechanical beeping you could hear. To the painfully bright lights hovering overhead. 

To the weight and warmth of someone’s hand holding yours. 

To the familiar face pressed against the bed as he slept, holding you hand tightly as if scared to let you go. 

“Javi?” you croaked. 

Like that, he was awake. 

You worried he’d have whiplash, he sat up so fast, eyes wide in disbelief as he realised you were awake. “Y/N? Oh, thank God!” 

“Y/N?”

“Steve?” you rasped, noticing your other partner as he leapt out of his chair in the corner of the room. The relief was clear as he smiled and hurried to the door. 

“Thank god. I’m gonna grab a nurse.” 

“Ok.” You smiled and turned to Javier who was still holding your hand tight, watching you with bloodshot eyes. “What... how long was I-?”

“Three days,” he whispered. “You really scared me there for a second, hermosa. You... you lost so much blood and they weren’t sure you were gonna make it.” 

“I’m sorry.”

The sight of tears in his eyes was more painful than the bullet hole that was currently sending white hot agony shooting through your side. You’d never seen Javi so torn up before. Never. The worst was when he’d sit silently and smoke for hours without even moving. 

As much as you hated that, you’d take that any day over this. Knowing you were the cause. 

“No. Don’t be,” he dismissed swiftly. “I mean yeah, I wanna shoot you myself for running off and pulling a dumb fucking stunt like that but I get it... I really do. I’d have done the same thing. Hell, I have done the same thing. I just wish you’d asked me to come. Or even Murphy. We would have.”

“The ambassador had his eye on you after the raid this week,” you protested weakly, wincing at the pain in your side as you tried to sit up. “I couldn’t risk you or Murphy or your jobs like that.” 

“Fuck our jobs.”

“Javi -“

“No, hermosa. Listen. I mean this. You come first, understood? Always,” Javi snarled, kissing the back of your hand. “I love you and I mean that. Life isn’t worth it without you. This job means shit all without you. You come first? Ok. Always. Seeing you lying there with all the blood on you... it made me realise a few things and this is one of them. I don’t want a life or a future without you in it.” 

You couldn’t help it as the tears began to flow again, your heart swelling with love for the man in front of you. You couldn’t help but reach out and brush your fingers through his hair as you’d done so many nights before. 

“I love you too, Javier Peña.”

“Good. Remember that when Steve gets back and starts ripping into your ass,” Javier teased, lightening up now that your were awake and talking again. “I won’t be able to save you then, carino. Sorry. Sicarios are one thing, but Murphy? He’s almost as terrifying as Connie.”

Oh fuck. You’d forgotten about Connie. Oh she was gonna kill you. Big time. 

That woman was the biggest mother hen you’d met in your entire life. She’d also probably have your ass on house arrest for the rest of your life after this stunt. 

“Shit,” you whined, dropping back against the pillows. “It was good while it lasted.”

“And good thing we get to do it all again another time,” he hummed. “Just ... not for a while, ok? Not until you’re on your feet.” 

“You mean, not until Connie says so?”

Javi didn’t even flinch as he nodded, deadly serious. “Yep. 100 percent.”

------

Translation: “and you are lucky i love you so much. i hate hospitals. this place is fucking horrid. i cant leave you here alone. not when you are going to wake up any minute now. you hear me? you are going to-”

[stardancerluv]

Runs for Herself and Enjoys to the Protection

Summary: Things go awry for reader and her client. Roman has to make sure nothing like this happens again to his girl.

⚠️ 🛑 Special Note, Warning ⚠️ 🛑

— Since returning to work, I have been cursed out, screamed at...wished ill. This past weekend was no exception. So to work through this, I wrote this. Yes, for the story I made it more intense. I also based it off some horrible treatment I was at the receiving end of. Only, I sadly had no one but myself to fall back on.

So I am not trying to use anything in this for the sake of a story. Needed to get some feelings off my chest. (In the story there is...unwanted advances, unwanted & violent touches and mentions of blood, & a murder.)

“Come on beautiful, if you can give out to Sionis you can give out to me.”

“Umm, that’s not how it works.”

You shivered in disgust as you felt his fingers in your hair.

“If you can’t stop touching me, I will cancel the contract.”

“Listen, think of Roman and it won’t be so bad.” He laid his hands on your shoulders as he chuckled.

“That’s it. We are done here.” You turned to face him. “I’ll have my lawyer call you.”

Next thing you knew you were seeing stars in front of your eyes as you found yourself laying partially on the desk. You could only reason, you had bumped your head.

“Listen, no one has ever complained before.” He hung over you and licked his worm like lips.

“Get away from me.” You pleaded, kicking you landed on his knee. He howled in pain, that’s when you jumped down from the desk.

He grabbed you, “No you don’t.” He back handed you and then back handed you again. The pain exploded in your face and once again you were seeing stars.

You had to do something, you eyed the situation. You had to get away. You could do this. With all of your strength you pushed him. Tumbling back, you finally ran.

“Not so fast deary.”

He soon stopped you by grabbing your dress with one of his meaty hands. You fought, you to free your dress. Hope grew in you as the fabric began to give. The sound as it rip was loud and filled the entire room. With your heart hurting you continued to run.

Everything was a blur some of his men stirred from being hunched over a card game they were playing.

“Get back here. No one runs from me.”

“Louie grab her.” You ran faster.

You managed to get outside, you ran desperately to a cab you saw sitting at a red light. You practically tore open the door and slammed the door shut, you were grateful no one was in side. It was a struggle to calm your breathing enough to talk.

“Ma’am what are....oh damn. Um where do you need to go?”

You looked and saw one of the goons coming over. “Go, please go!” Luckily then the light changed and he pealed away. Thankfully the traffic was not so busy on the south side of Gotham. “Take me to the Black Mask Club.”

“Ok ma’am.”

You finally took a mental breath. Looking, at your dress, a chill came over you. You would not cry, you just had to get there.

Never had you been more relieved to see Zsasz smoking outside. His eyes grew when he saw you.

“Please pay the cabbie. I don’t have my purse.”

He took a long drag of his cigarette and nodded. “Sure.”

When passed each other he whispered telling you he was upstairs.

Inside you felt so hollow, so hurt. You had always dealt with all different walks of life in Gotham. No one ever did this. You slumped against the wall of the elevator. You didn’t dare touch your face, the pain was beyond belief.

You winced when the elevator dinged announcing itself. You questioned yourself the closer you drew to his office. Perhaps you should let it go and just call your lawyer cancel the contract. It was bound to happen dealing with all the types in Gotham.

“What the fuck happened? Look at me!” Barked Roman.

You shook, you heard him exhale and as he drew closer. How did he already know, but then you realized Zsasz probably texted him.

You looked up into the very hard face of Roman. His features were razor sharp in his anger. You could watch as his eyes softened.

“Oh baby.” You bowed your head as you felt his eyes move over you. Your view filled with him as he stood right in front of you. “Baby.” His voice was gentle despite the clipped under tone. “Don’t look away. We need to get you cleaned up and then I want you to tell me everything.”

“Ok.”

*******

The was cloth was warm and comforting as he wiped away the dried tears and blood. The fresh tears came when you finally saw your face. He drew you close and just held you. His heart beat hard and fast in his chest.

He held you out of the dress, which he told you he would bring to the incinerator. You would never have to see it again.

Later, dressed in something much more comfortable. He just held you and gently ran your fingers through your hair.

You were finally feeling better in a half dozy state after the roller coaster your emotions went through. You felt Roman stiffen as his phone buzzed in his suit jacket.

Blinking, you looked up at him, you watched as he swallowed. “I have to go and take care of this.”

You clung to him, you uncontrollably just buried your face into his chest. You wanted to disappear. His cologne, his solidness felt so safe.

“Baby, I’ll be back before you know it. I can’t let this go.”

It almost made you cry again when you realized he knew you were concerned about him.

Looking up, you sigh you closing your eyes as his hand gently held your cheek.

“You’re my girl. I have to protect you.”

“I know.”

******

After slipping his suit jacket back on over his holster you knew what he was about to go and do. You were not ill. You and Roman had been together for two years. Over those two years, good and bad things. He kept what he could away from you. It was his life, his business it was him managing his slice of Gotham.

You were there to love and support him. You were not clueless, what happened today was stepping over the line. With your business you were supposed to be able to move freely around. Being with Roman made you safer and gave you a freedom, you didn’t have before.

So after parting, you went to the window and waited. Downstairs the rolls was idling.

*****

He glanced up to the window and saw your silhouette. He waved then he slid into back of the car.

His blood was rushing in his ears as he made his way to bastard’s place. He has done some dark things, but seeing you. Watching as the bruises formed and marred your beautiful face he grew ill. No one his girl and would get away with it.

He did not call anyone else, he wasn’t going to get the permission of the others. It was time to act. And he was going to send a fucking message.

*****

Everything went smoothly, he just right in. Knowing, where to go he strode right up to animals office. He stopped just outside the door. He unholstered one of his guns. Faintly he heard giggling, it made blood boil hotter.

Turning the knob, he practically strode. He immediately saw the fuck sitting behind the desk with some bimbo perched in front of him on his desk. She screamed.

He took a breath and gestured with his gun. “Get the fuck out of here.”

She jumped down and ran.

“Here to punish me for what I did?”

Roman aimed and shot him in the knee.

“Yes.”

The man screamed in agony, blood blossomed between his hands has he held his knee. Roman, quietly came around his desk.

“What were you going to do if you caught her?”

The man looked up at him with a slimy smirk. “Enjoy her screams...” The rest was a gargle as he shot him in the throat. Blood splattered his face.

Roman holstered his gun as the man flapped, grasping at his throat. Zsasz walked into the room, looking over at him he smiled.

“Make whatever is left of his life miserable and painful.”

******

After canceling the contract, you desperately tried to distract yourself. It wasn’t working. You didn’t want to fret any longer so you took a hot bath and changed into a silken dress. You wanted at the very least look good for Roman. Your heart swelled greatly knowing that he was defending your honor.

You brushed your hair and dabbed a touch of make up on. Spritzing on some perfume and you began to feel worlds better. You were feeling considerably better after being comforted by Roman.

Going to the bar, you went and poured him a drink. You made yourself one as well. Lounging on the sofa, you were sipping on your drink when you heard the gentle purr of the Rolls.

You waited just long enough and then went over to welcome Roman home.

He looked as sharp as ever.

“Welcome home.” You said softly. “I’m sure you need this.” You handed him the glass of scotch as you looked him over.

“Thank you sweetheart.” A smiled played on his lips as his eyes moved over you. A sound of contentment came from him as he took a sip. He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close.

“Let’s get you more comfortable.”

As you poured him another scotch, you watched as he settled comfortably in his over stuffed chair. Placing the drink down beside him, you saw the splatter of blood across his face. He patted his lap. “One moment, Romy.” Going back to the bar you grabbed a glass filled it with seltzer and a soft cotton cloth.

Coming back over you happily took a seat in his lap. “Oh? Where’s you holster?”

He shrugged. “Downstairs, so Zsasz can clean it for another day.”

“Oh, good!” You smiled.

He rose an eyebrow, “Did I get something on my face?” His lips wrinkled in disgust.

You nodded. “May I?”

“Of course.” He rest a hand on your thigh as you sat and he closed his eyes.

It wasn’t long before the seltzer turned a rusty red, as you dipped and rubbed the cloth across the contours of his face. You eyed how his lashes on rested on his cheeks and how relax his lips sat, incredibly kissable, your stomach fluttered. At the moment, you resisted the urge to finish cleaning his face.

His eyes opened, the blue was a turbulent shade. “He’ll never bother you or anyone again.”

“Good.”

“Y/N...”

“Yes.”

He squeezed your thigh. “I hate that you had to go through that,” He grimaced. “You are strong. I am glad you got back here so I could then take care of you.”

“I’ll always come home to you.”

He smiled and the mood shifted in his eyes.

“You’re my hero.” You whispered and finally you couldn’t resist his mouth any further and you kissed him.

You winced, pulling back.

“Allow me?” His lips curled delightfully.

Confused, you nodded. “Of course.”

Gently he kissed you but his lips didn’t linger their and your hear sped up as his lips drifted till they met your jaw. “I will always protect my girl.” He whispered in your ear.

@darling-i-read-it @spn-obsessed-dean @vintagemichelle91 @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @ewanfuckingmcgregor @zodiyack @angel98624 @frenchgirlinlondon @emyliabernstein @thepeachreads @nebulastarr @itsknife2meetu @omghappilyuniquebouquetlove @poe-kadot26 @babydoll97 @hazel-nuss @vcat55 @feelthemadnessinside @johallzy @foreverhockeytrash @frostypenguinoz @starwarsslytherin @professionalclown @chogisss @shantellorraine @xxinvisiblexx @blondekel77 @saphic-stories @drarrylov3r @i-cant-hear-you16 @deadlymistress24 @yesqueenofthelight @generallj @thebeckyjolene

[cliocodex]

Black Star

It’s May the Fourth so clearly I should post something Star Wars related I’ve created, and since nothing publishable is currently ready, here’s a bit of one of my favorite published bits. This was the first Meetra/Atton thing I let myself put into the world (and I do love these two and love writing them) and it’s near and dear to my heart because of that and more.  Takes place on Nar Shaddaa, post reveal of Atton’s past. From “Black Star” (link to AO3): She wasn’t sure where they were going, not back to the Hawk, directly anyway.  They walked for a while, talking about nothing important, both avoiding what had happened before.   They stopped by the railing overlooking the refugee quarter.  In the dark and from a distance, it almost looked peaceful.  You could imagine the twinkling lights were campfires, almost believe that the people sleeping below must be happy. “Smoke?” “You know I don’t.  Why do you keep asking?”  She was leaning on the rail, looking up at him.  Did you just bat your lashes? “Maybe I just want an excuse to touch your face.”  He was leaning in, the unlit cigarette hanging from his lips. “Do you mean something by that?  Or is that just your cheap flirting again, Rand?”  She knew what she wanted the answer to be.  Knew it didn’t make sense. He put up his hands in mock surrender, backed just slightly towards the wall.  The street was surprisingly quiet for Nar Shaddaa, maybe it was the late hour, or maybe the locals just had better sense and were inside somewhere avoiding the thick, stinking haze that had settled as the evening wore on. She took the unlit cigarette from his mouth, felt that heat in gut rise as her hand grazed his chin. “You gonna answer?”   She was close enough to see the something like sadness back in his eyes despite the dim light.  Shit.  That’s not where she wanted it to go.  You really should drop this.  Should but couldn’t. It would be so easy to step closer, to say she wanted him to mean it and that she had for weeks, that it had started like a game, but turned into something real.  Or she could just kiss him.  He wouldn’t say no; he’d kiss her back and maybe that would chase that sadness from his eyes and from hers, too.  But, no.  Not like this, too selfish.     She thought about other times she’d jumped at something, the twice before she’d gone for a kiss offered for the wrong reasons, the terrible places that had led.  The first time it had happened because the thing was forbidden.  The second time because she had felt herself breaking.  But now, now she was whole and herself and could want for her own happiness, but should she?   She forced herself to turn away, to start walking back towards the relative safety of the Hawk where the presence of the others might keep her from doing something foolish. His fingers wrapped around her wrist as she did, pulled her back to face him in the shadow of the wall.  He took her other hand too, lacing his fingers in hers.  “I don’t know how to answer that, Surik.”  His voice was soft, had lost the cocky tone from before.  “Whatever I say is going to be the wrong thing.  I should let you walk away, ought to give you push, but….”  The corner of his mouth just barely curled up, “but I don’t want you to go.” They were close enough that if she just tipped her face, he might kiss her.  He smelled like the cantina, whiskey and ash, and some other scent that was just Atton that begged her to bury her face in the crook of his neck to drink of it deeply. Their hands were still clasped. She felt her face go blank, not knowing what to show as she spoke, “Ok, I’m not walking away.” “No, you’re not.”  And then there was just this flicker of some other thing in his eye that pushed away the sadness for a moment.  Desire?  Hope?  It was enough to tip her over the edge, a slow motion fall where she let go of his hands to bring her lips to the underside of his jaw, rested her head against his shoulder, her hands against his chest.  She could feel his pulse racing against her cheek as she sank into his warmth.  “This may not be your best idea, Surik.” His mouth said that but his hands said I want you, one firm at the small of her back, the other tangling in her hair, pulling her close.   She forced herself to plant her feet, resisting the urge to rock her hips close. “Why not?” Her lips brushed under his jaw in something like a kiss as she spoke.  She felt him swallow. “Because I’m a disaster.” “So am I.   Try again.” “Because I’m a runner.” She drew back to look at him then, weighing what she wanted against his words.  “I’ve been running for years, not even sure what from, Rand.”  She knew she was tipping her head now in invitation, gave in to pull her hips to his.  “Who says we have to run alone?” He tasted like he smelled, whiskey and cigarettes and that thing that must just be Atton… and gods she wanted more.  Their first kisses were soft, like they were afraid they might break this thing between them, but when she caught his lip in her teeth they turned hot and hungry.  Her hands found the hem of his shirt trailed up the bare skin of his back.  His lips broke from hers, ran down her neck and up again, her name a needy whisper in her ear.  “Meetra….”

[frostsinth]

A Line in the Sand - Pt. 3

Intro - Part 1|2 - MasterList - Art - Art

Ok, so this is kind of a conclusion chapter, but I left it open ended in case I want to revisit these two later. However, for now I have no plan to continue writing them. Perhaps some quick one-shots in the future, of various little snipits in their life. I just wanted to feel like this was more closed so I can continue with some other projects.

This is of course for the always lovely and patient @ivymemnoch​ of her Monster Match character Devaraj the reptilian monster (I prefer Nessiim, since I couldn’t decide between lizardman and dragonborn and he’s somewhere between the two). I hope everyone enjoys this soft fluffy fluff.

Like what you see? Check out my MasterList above for more babbles and stories. Please consider BuyMeACoffee while you are there. I’m open for art commissions, so please DM me if you are interested, but no writing commissions right now. As always, drop me an Ask if you have any thoughts or questions, I love to hear from everyone!

How had I gotten myself into this exactly? I wondered to myself for the hundredth time as I dropped like a sack of flour to the stone ground. Narrowly avoiding the projectiles of rocks lobbed at me from the other side of the deep cave. They clattered loudly when they landed, snapping and cracking in a way that almost distracted me from the cave’s resident. Almost.

It, or rather, ‘he’ as Deveraj insisted, did not seem in any way to be a mere spirit. Not how I would have pictured one. If I had to think of a word to describe it, I would have said… ‘tree’. But it needed more words than the one. Big tree. MOVING tree. A tree with branches that bent and wriggled and swayed like vines. Also, ‘wet tree’ would have been accurate, for while the texture of the creature was distinctly bark-like, it slithered and slapped about as it moved. Dripping what I hoped was water and sloshing about as it did. It had no head to speak of, or at least, no face. There was definitely a top to its weird mass of vines and branches that spun out from an almost humanoid torso. But I saw no eyes, no mouth.

Devaraj tucked and rolled neatly, coming to my side. A grin I took as wry was twisting his long mouth, and I would have scowled had I not currently been so preoccupied. Before the Nessiim could say anything though, we both had to dodge to opposite sides as a slapping limb cracked on the floor between us.

I noticed, as the spirit’s attention turned on me, that it seemed to keep its numerous branches and vines in limb-like shape. Two thick long columns where one might expect legs. Two long, extending protrusions where one would expect arms. Occasionally, the branches and vines diverged, but they always twisted back into the shape once more. This became more obvious as the creature advanced on me. Reaching out with snapping, rolling boughs.

I squealed, but couldn’t dodge quickly enough this time. And its arm-like appendages slowly started to wrap around me. They were wet. And I decided based upon the gooey quality it was probably not water as I had initially hoped. I also came to the realization that I had been wrong before; it did have a mouth. Which revealed itself to me as the spirit slowly dropped open its gaping maw, stepping in slowly as it entwined its branches around me. Flashing sharp white fangs amid a cavernous darkness. My heart ricocheted around my chest and throat in a rising panic to escape my breast.

“Yes! Excellent! Keep him there!” Devaraj exclaimed excitedly. “He seems to like you!”

I wriggled, sweat breaking across my brow as I struggled to keep the creature from wrapping its arms any further around me. “The feeling is not mutual!”

“It’s alright, Sera!” He called. “He is just frightened! I can feel it!”

The reptilian man stealthed closer, his booted feet moving with surprising quiet across the stone cave. And despite the panic threatening to choke me… I realized the spirit’s movements had slowed to an almost standstill. Its branches still slowly weaved around me, smearing me with thick slimy goo as they did. But it advanced forward carefully now. It still had no eyes to speak of, but that gaping maw seemed to be panting as it approached. A bit of drool dripped in a long strand from the corner of it, and I winced and grimaced as it leaned in closer.

I turned my head to the side as the spirit brought its ‘face’ to mine, and I could feel its hot, wet breath against my jaw. I don’t like this. I thought to myself, my heartbeat so fast it was just a thrum beneath my skin. I don’t like this, I don’t like this, I don’t like this.

Devaraj’s deep voice reached me suddenly, murmuring in a strange, hissing tongue that seemed to form in his chest and move through his body without ever passing through his lips. The spirit appeared to pause at the sound of his voice, and I saw it start to turn back to look at him over his shoulder from the corner of my eye. Though I decided the word “look” was in liberal use now, as it still had no eyes to speak of. Still, it continued to curl tighter and tighter around me. Enveloping me in its slimy limbs, rubbing the rough bark against my skin. I was too busy struggling against its strong grip to shake in fear, but I could taste it plainly on my tongue.

As my employer stepped closer, I saw him lift up one palm, then gently place it on the creature’s shoulder. Those startling yellow eyes of his closed, and a soft hum seemed to fill the air. Curling tendrils stopped, and the spirit paused. Its head tilting to the side. As if it were hearing something I could not.

“There you are.” Came Devaraj’s thick voice. And at it, the spirit seemed to relax.

The tight branches wound about me suddenly came loose, and I dropped heavily back to the floor. I gave a soft gasp of pain as my bottom hit the stone, but was distracted by the soft glow now emanating from the chest of the spirit before me. Its limbs shrunk and twisted, its outline changed. My eyes went wide as a face began to form around the toothy mouth, which was shrinking itself. Into soft lips, and a delicate shape. The remaining branches tightened together, smoothing into one, and away purled the bark-like texture, leaving behind skin. Glowing blue-white skin, but definitely skin. And a distinctly human form.

He looked like he was formed of light. His eyes blinked (he had eyes now!), and he glanced over at Devaraj. I could still see his irises through his lids when he closed them. His whole body was mostly see through, but still had the distinctness of solidity. It was confusing, but also… strangely beautiful.

The spirit opened his mouth, and a soft breathy sound escaped it. It made a shiver slip down my spine and goosebumps run across my skin. I couldn’t hear words in the voice. But I saw his lips move in a poor imitation, as if he was forming something in his mouth.

Devaraj nodded. “Yes, friend. You are in the craigs beyond the town.” He replied, answering some question I had not heard. The spirit turned to face him more. “Do you remember how you got here?”

A slow head cock, a quizzical look pinching his brows. Again, that soft, breathy sound. It was almost like a whisper, breathed in and out through the lungs, but with no definition or shape to it. Nothing I could distinguish anyways. My employer did not seem to have the same issue.

“Ah, yes, I see. But she is not here.” The Nessiim gestured to me, and I stiffened as the spirit’s eyes turned back to me. “This is Sera, not your wife. Do you see her clearly now?”

I met those strange, glowing eyes nervously. Trying not to visibly shake where I still sat on the floor. Then suddenly, I felt a dull ache in my chest. A longing, a sadness. I was taken aback by it, and as I looked at the spirit, I could almost see those emotions blinking across his face.

“I’m sorry.” I told him, the words coming to my lips as instinctively as the air came to my lungs. 

Again the spirit seemed to tilt his head from side to side, and that whispering breathing speech came out after a long pause. His hand came up, and I stiffened as those glowing fingers wisped across the edge of my jaw. Tracing its shape down to my chin.

Devaraj chuckled, and I nervously glanced over the spirit’s shoulder at him. “He says you are very kind, Sera, and almost as beautiful as his wife.” The reptilian man explained, a mischievous glint in his sharp yellow eyes. “He is glad you came to help him.”

I blinked stupidly, then looked back at the spirit. He stared at me quietly for another long moment, and I felt a few beads of nervous sweat prick the back of my neck. Finally, he straightened, and spoke again. Devaraj did not answer at first, nodding along with what I imagined might be taken for a thoughtful expression on his face. At the end of his strange, whispering words, the glowing shape turned back to my employer, who bowed to him slightly.

“It would be my honor, good sir.” He assured him. “Consider it done.”

Relief flooded through me, rising from someplace deep in my heart. But I could not quite place where it had come from. Only I knew it was not mine, despite its strange familiarity. I watched as the spirit considered me one last time, then took a step back, fading into a soft, wispy twist of blue smoke. And then, just like that... he was gone.

“Come.” Devaraj intoned, turning towards the back of the cave we had entered not one hour before. I spent a few more moments blinking at the spot where the spirit had just been, not fully hearing him until he called my name from the far wall.

“W-what are you doing?” I asked, scrambling numbly to my feet and darting over. Glancing about anxiously as I shlucked the last of the goo from my arms in case the strange phenomenon I had just experienced would have a repeat performance at any moment. I decided it was probably be best to be near the larger man if that was a possibility.

He kneeled down, sweeping his hand delicately over a pile of what appeared to be rubble to me. “Fulfilling his final wish.” He replied, and his long, claw tipped finger hooked around his prize.

As he lifted the glittering necklace from amid the stones, his elongated mouth curled up. Twisting into that strange smile. Once a frightening smile, but now I couldn’t help but feel a mirror of it curl upon my own lips as his intense eyes met mine.

“What is it?” I breathed, a little surprised to be nearly as excited as he was. 

My heart thudded a few of its previously missed beats out of rhythm as Devaraj stood and the movement brought him precariously close to me. I swallowed hard to find the shape of my tongue in my mouth again as I had to drop my head back to look up at him. His scaly lips peeled back lightly to reveal his sharp white teeth, and his eyes seemed to sparkle with delight at my question. I didn’t even notice his big hand come around and clap lightly onto my shoulder.

“This, Sera, is the necklace of his wife.” He slowly brought it down, and nodded encouragingly as my hands hesitated to reach for it. “He asked that we return it to their shared grave. It seems some errant fools disturbed their final resting place, and he was wont to unrest until it was returned.”

I delicately cupped the ancient looking pendant in my hands, tracing one thumb over it. It felt warm, as though it had only just previously been removed from its seat at someone’s collarbone for my inspection. As my thumb traced the gem, a corresponding warmth pulsed in my chest, and I felt my smile soften.

“They must have been very fond of it.” I exclaimed softly, entranced by the way the dim light of the shallow cave caught the metal.

A rumbling sound came from my companion’s chest, agreeable and soothing. “I would agree. Such sentiment carries long after death. But come,” He squeezed my shoulder lightly, “Let us return it, so that they may once more be at peace.”

“Why was he all the way out here with it?” I asked, following behind him obediently with barely a side glance as we exited the cave. It felt different as we left. Less hostile and menacing. Now it was just… hollow. Lifeless stone, silent amid the small patch of trees.

“It seems the theft left him so enraged, he had quite forgotten his original purpose for rising.” Devaraj mused, lifting a low branch to allow me to pass with more ease. “He followed the would-be thief here, then was tethered to the place. Unable to travel far from it once the robber abandoned his prize and fled for his life. Unfortunately, this is a common story.”

I kept both hands clasped around the necklace, holding it close to my heart. It made me feel better, for some reason, and I didn’t bother to question it. “But how do we make sure no one tries to take it again?”

The corners of his lips twitched, and I saw his thin pupils flick to me out the corners of his eyes. “... Would you endeavor to take it, Sera?” He returned. “I am certain it must be quite valuable.”

I didn’t hesitate, shaking my head quickly. “N-no… Not this…” I paused, my step faltering, and slowly brought the pendant away from my heart to peer down at it. “It… it is too special…”

“I thought as much.” He sounded pleased, and my head jerked as I looked up at him in surprise. He bared his teeth at me, and his long tongue flicked out. “You have a particularly powerful dushrasha, Sera. I noticed the moment I met you.” I opened my mouth to respond, but he had already turned and was making his way between the trees to the open plains beyond once more. “As to your question, I shall make sure it is properly interred and warded against such things for the future. That should ensure the husband and his wife might rest in eternal peace together.”

“W-wait!” I stammered, clutching the necklace to my chest once more and sprinting after him. “What did you mean? What you said before, about my… um…”

“Your dushrasha.” He offered, but didn’t slow his long stride. Now that we had left the small copse of trees behind, I was finding it difficult to keep up with him on the beveled plain. “It is as I said, Sera.”

“You said… but…” I darted around to stand in front of him, blocking his path. “Wait!”

Devaraj stopped, the ridges of his brow raising slightly. I saw his tongue skitter out once more, and he tilted his great horned head to the side. “What troubles you, Sera?”

“You said you noticed the moment you met me.” I craned my neck back again to look up at him. “What do you mean? What did you notice?”

“It is as I said,” He sounded slightly puzzled, “Your dushrasha is particularly powerful. Especially for a human. I have not seen one its like since I first came to your lands.”

“... You can see it?”

He hummed softly at this, nodding slightly as if the reasoning behind my words was suddenly clear to him. “Yes, in a sense. I am a master prizrasha, after all.”

I waited, but when there seemed to be no further explanation forthcoming, I sighed heavily. I spared a glance about, hesitating, then looked down at the pendant still tightly clasped in my palms. It didn’t matter. I told myself. I was planning on leaving soon anyways. I didn’t need him to explain anything, I didn’t need to know... I should just be happy to be safe again. It seemed the longer I stayed with this strange man the more hazardous my life became… still, my chest burned with questions.

“... You are unsatisfied with this answer?” Devaraj suggested.

Again, I hesitated, then managed to find a bit of courage to look up at him. “I just.. I don’t understand…”

He nodded. “That is not a crime, Sera. You can not be expected to know everything there is to know.” He cocked his head to the opposite side. “Would you like to understand?”

I swallowed nervously again, shifting from foot to foot. “... I-if you think I can.”

The reptilian man scoffed, and his fat tail twitched. “Of course! I am happy to explain.” I jumped slightly as his big hand scooped into the crook of my elbow. “Come, Nur is not far from here. I can tell you more on the way.”

“I-I don’t mean to be a bother-”

“I can sense dushrasha,” He continued, interrupting me as if he hadn’t heard me speak at all, his hand still gently tucked into the bend of my arm, “In the way you might see light sparkling out of falling water, or in the mists.” He gave me a soft tug, prompting me to pick up my pace to match his stride, which he thoughtfully shortened to accommodate me. “Most I cannot ‘see’, so to speak, without some effort on my part. A… what is this word… meditation, perhaps, or a spell. Though these are still not the right words.” His tail twitched, brushing against the long grass with a soft rustling as we passed. “But yours… I can see it… no, I do not like this word either…” He fell silent, his long tongue flicking out as he debated it for a moment. “I can feel it.” Fierce eyes fixed on me, peering down over his scaled cheeks. “It is warm. I like how it feels.”

My pace slowed as I processed this, and again, he slowed to match. I hadn’t even noticed he had left his hand cupped around my arm. He turned me slowly to face him as I chewed it over, my thumbs absentmindedly running over the pendant clasped between them.

“... Does it mean something?” I asked, surprised with my own timid voice. “To… have a… um…”

His long tongue snaked out again, and his scaled brows raised as his lips pursed out slightly. Thoughtful, I decided, cataloging the shape his foreign features took in application of this. Every moment that passed, I realized I was finding him easier and easier to read. I shifted from foot to foot nervously.

“For the Nessiim, it is a blessing.” He began, seeming to pick his words as he went. “For us, warmth is… is everything. And so a warm dushrasha… Well, it is very near divine.”

“Divine?” I echoed, a little flabbergasted, already shaking my head. “I-I’m certainly not-”

“I know this is not your belief, Sera.” he told me, and I felt his hand slowly slide down my arm. Gently pulling one of my hands free from the pendant to cup in his. “But I would still like to keep you with me… If you would be willing.” He ran his clawed thumb out, pushing my fingers apart gently to run its pad over my palm.

I felt a hot flush rise to my face, and my breath stuttered in my throat. “O-oh, I-I mean…” My thoughts raced about a mile a minute, and I couldn’t quite seem to keep my heart in my chest where it belonged. I slowly pulled my hand out of his, and started to back away. “I don’t… I don’t know if…”

“Apologies, Sera,” He interjected quickly as I struggled to speak, “I am certain that came off as far too forward. I did not mean it to sound quite so… ah, what is word…” His big horned head cocked to the side. “I mean to say only that I enjoy your company. Your warmth.” Sharp teeth flashed out, and his elongated mouth curled up. Yellow eyes glinting. Comforting. Reassuring. I documented it, blinking at him slowly. “I would like to continue our relationship. And explore it further.”

“E-explore?” I mumbled, taking another step back. My heart skipping.

He nodded. “Yes! You are an excellent assistant!” His forked tongue appeared ever so briefly before disappearing back between his lips. The thoughtful look returned. “I am not sure if a human can become a prizrasha, but I would be willing to teach you, if you would like.”

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “Oh.”

His gaze flicked over me. “You are surprised?”

I swallowed hard. “I-I thought you… umm…” I flushed an even deeper shade of red. “N-no, nevermind.” I suddenly remembered the pendant in my hand, and looked down at it. Thinking and chewing over everything he had just told me. “... You want me to be your apprentice?”

“Is this the word?” Devaraj replied, his voice curious. “Apprentice? I like it. It has a pleasant hiss at the end. Assistant has one at the beginning, but it is less satisfying. I cannot linger on it.” He nodded again. “You have a natural talent, I think, Sera. You might enjoy this work.”

I glanced over his shoulder at the craigs where we had encountered the spirit. “I don’t know…”

I jumped as the large lizard man closed the space between us with a single stride, and boldly took up my free hand again. I had to crane my neck back to look up at him, and his tongue flicked at the tip of my nose as I did.

“It is up to you, Sera, of course. I sense you are… restless with me still.” He ran his thumb over my knuckles, his chin angled down slightly. “Perhaps you wish to leave.”

I choked on my next breath. Had I really been so obvious? Or was that talent of being a prizrasha? A stab of guilt hit me solidly, and I thought to pull my hand out of his again. His fingers tightened around it as it twitched in his grasp. Gentle, cool to the touch, but firm. As if to tell me that it didn’t matter; he didn’t mind. It didn’t hurt him to know I had such plans. I felt my heart skip erratically at his touch, yet I didn’t fight his grip further. I was surprised to find myself… strangely comforted by it.

“I’m… I just…”

“I like you, Sera.” He told me as I dropped off again. “I like your wit, and your warmth. I like your curiosity, and your good heart. Much as you try to hide it.” I glanced up at him, and he curled his lips upward more softly. Fondness, I decided. A warmth of its own… I cataloged that expression in a special place beside my throbbing heart. “If you want to leave, I understand, and I won’t stop you… But I would like very much if you would stay with me.”

“You don’t know anything about me.” I half whispered, distracted by the way the fading sunlight glinted in his eyes.

He cocked his head back to the side. “Do I need to?” I twitched as his tongue flicked the tip of my nose again. “I don’t need to know your history to like who you are. I am certain you would share it with me in time, or that you do not wish me to know. Either way, it does not matter to me.”

“You don’t even know my name!” I argued.

His smile returned. “You are Sera. You have the warmth of the sun in your dushrasha.” One brow raised slightly. “... That’s what ‘Sera’ means, you know.” He nodded, and I decided this expression of his was smug. “It means ‘fiery one’, and we use it in greeting to the sun.”

I stared at him, slack jawed. “... You named me after the sun?”

His expression changed again, softer around the edges. I could see the subtle movements of the muscles beneath his scales. “... Yes. It seemed most fitting… and… I would court you better, if I knew how.”

I jerked as if he had slapped me. “C-court me??”

Another nod, but shallow. Timid. He was avoiding my eyes now. “Yes, Sera. I find you… fascinating. I like to be near you. I like the smell of you. But I do not know how humans approach this matter.” He shifted in place, still looking off to the side. “And I thought perhaps you would not find appeal in a Nessiim like me…”

I laughed out loud at the ridiculousness of that, bewildered and shocked. Did the man not know how handsome he was?? I stopped short as his eyes jumped to me, and felt my face flush hot as the realization hit me as well. Those fierce eyes shifted to the side again, and he seemed to curl back from me. He began to pull his hand away, and I felt my fingers suddenly tighten around his. Devaraj paused, looking at me with his scaly brows raised and his eyes wide.

“I-I… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh… I was just surprised.” I told him quickly. “I was… um… I didn’t think you meant to… ah…”

“I did not, at first.” He assured me softly, and I noticed him take a tiny step closer to me. A bit of his confidence restored as my fingers remained around his. “But… I have been thinking about it since we first met yesterday. It seems like masiimir, no? That of all the doors you could have opened, it was mine you walked through.”

“Masiimir?” I echoed, still flushed and my tongue feeling far too large for my mouth.

He shifted his jaw, obviously trying to find the proper translation and working his tongue around his mouth while he did. “Masiimir… ah, as if planned, yes? As if some higher being or power or such thing made it so we should meet. As if it was already written for history to remember that way.”

I shifted, glancing down at our hands. “Fate.” I told him softly.

His strong fingers squeezed mine gently. “I am a stranger to these lands. Yet in you I feel a piece of my home.” I peeked up at him through my lashes, and noticed him curl his thick neck down, his muzzle coming closer to my temple. “You were looking for a place to hide… and I offer you a place to belong.” He gave a deep, hissing sigh. “Perhaps I look into this too much, but… It is custom for Nessiim to begin courtship when they meet a potential partner. We are not ones for wasting energy on uncertainties.”

I hesitated again, looking back down at my hand which looked so tiny in his. I thought back over the last two days, and felt my heart flip a few times in my chest. I tried to press back the overwhelming thoughts and emotions that assaulted me. Tried to pull some sort of cohesiveness from their midst. It all seemed to crash into me at that moment. Everything that had happened. The strange draw I felt, the reluctance to leave.

“... Would you be alright with this, Sera?” He asked me quietly, and I realized we had been standing in silence for more than a few moments. “May I court you? It will likely be a fair bit experimental at first. I am uncertain how human courtship differs from Nessiim, but I am eager to explore it.” He cleared his throat, glancing off to the side. “But I will only pursue this if you are… erm… interested, I believe is the correct word.”

I swallowed, my head beginning to throb. “Oh… well…” I closed my hand tighter around the pendant still clutched in my other palm. Then glanced at our clasped hands again. I couldn’t hear anything beyond the thrum of my own heart, and I struggled to keep myself from quivering. “I… well…” My cheeks were so red, I was surprised they didn’t catch fire. I glanced at him out the corner of my eye again, and saw him watching me carefully with those intense eyes of his. I cleared my own throat. “I would… I-I would be interested...” I stammered out finally. “In you… ah, in you courting me, I mean.”

I jumped slightly as his nose nudged against my cheek gently, and I felt his tongue flick out to skip against my jaw. He dropped my hand, and skimmed his fingertips along my wrist and up to my arm.

“... For my people, it would be customary next to ask you to sun bathe with me.” He told me. “That we might share our warmth, and learn more about each other’s bodies.”

I nearly squeaked, but looked up at him. “Ah… W-would that require clothes?” 

He chuckled, a deep and rolling sound. “Humans are more reserved with their skins, yes? If it makes you more comfortable, it is the company kept that is important.” When I didn’t pull away from his touch, he snaked his hand around my waist, stepping closer so I had to crane my head back to look up at him. “But I would be pleased to once again share warmth with you, Sera.” He nudged me with his nose again, and I turned slightly to look at him out the corner of my eye. His fierce yellow eyes looked somehow soft in the afternoon sunlight. “Nessiim bond through touch... How do humans bond with their partners?”

I felt my pulse throb beneath my cheeks, and laughed nervously. “W-well… we uh… spend time together… we talk…” He nodded along with my words, and goosebumps raced across my skin as his tongue flicked against my collarbone again. “... We kiss…”

“Kiss?” He echoed, and my ears burned. “What does it mean? I like this word, the sound is most pleasant on my tongue.”

I shifted the pendant in my grip, looking down at it as I became flustered. “Oh… I-it’s… it’s hard to describe…” I peeked at him again, and felt my lips tingle as I did. A powerful urge came over me, and I swallowed hard. “Maybe… I should show you?”

He nodded eagerly. “I would like to see.”

I hesitated, feeling my heart thrum in my chest, beating recklessly against my ribs. I swallowed again, slowly slipping my hand from his. Again, I paused, belying a breath that skipped from my throat with a wispy quality, then gently rested my palm against his broad cheek. Then I debated how best to go about it, as his mouth protruded a fair bit from his face, and I realized it might not work the same. Could he even feel my skin against his scales? He did have lips, of course, but were they as… dexterous as mine? I gently used my hand on his cheek to tilt him into position, hesitating again. He watched me quietly, curiously. Finally, I leaned forward, and pressed my lips against the cool scales at the point of his snout.

Beneath my kiss, I felt the scales move, felt his mouth part slightly. I drew back after half a moment, flushing dark and uncertain. But suddenly, his arm hooked the rest of the way around my waist, and he tugged me closer to his body. Tucking me into the curve of his chest and craning his thick neck to nudge me gently with his nose.

“... I like this thing.” He purred, and I shivered to feel it move beneath my palm and through his chest pressed against me. “This… ‘Kiss’...” He nuzzled against me again. “... Is there a daily limit on ‘kiss’? Or can we do it more? I would like to try.” His long tongue flicked out, brushing across my lips.

I laughed shyly, tilting my head down to hide the bright scarlet color filling my cheeks. “No, there’s not a limit-”

“Good.” He interrupted, and I snuck a glance back up at him, my hand at his jaw coming down to rest against the broad scales on his chest. Devaraj’s mouth split, revealing his sharp teeth. “We must return the pendant first… but then I would like to explore your ‘kiss’ more, if you are willing.” His tongue came out again, skimming over my lips once more. I shivered with excitement at the touch. “And perhaps then I can show you what Nessiim do with their mouths...”

To be continued?

[spoiler1001]

This is how it ended. A bloody battle. No Trent. No war. Just Caleb, surrounded by the faces of his loved ones.

Caleb almost laughed bitterly. Yes, he was surrounded by loved ones on both sides of this. If this were astrid or Eodwulf it would be kinder.

As is, the city that deserted their own reckoning rose from the blood of the Tomb Takers. Every slash that drew their blood dropped onto the floor. The icy stone was slick and everyone's boots gained a new reddish mark painting the bottom of their shoes. Caleb's hair slipped out of his tie. It passed his shoulders now. Ikithon would have a shit fit if he saw it. Fuck Ikithon.

The Tomb Takers fell suspiciously easily. They seemed almost willing to do so. Of course they were. They trusted this city. These philosophers. They really were the Assembly of their time. They used and sucked the free will out of their pupils all the same. Only Lucien stood out of all of them left. 

There was a silence that filled the room. The Tomtakers laid towards the center of the room. The Mighty Nein stood around the border of it. Caleb was separated from the others with rocks blocking the view and the others being blocked in by falling rocks. Lucien kept his eyes on Caleb. Caleb raised his hand to summon a spell, for it to sizzle at his fingertips and turn to smoke. Lucien smiled, cocking his head to the side. His tail swished like a cat sizing up his prey. That's all he was to Lucien. Someone that was beneath him, but still a person that he wanted to deal with personally. Caleb blinked weakly at Lucien.

"You are mine!" Lucien drew his rapier. 

"I've always been."  Caleb whispered.

Lucien slashed at Caleb, his expression unreadable. He was cold, numbed. The neutral expression. Caleb wondered if that's what he looked like when he killed his parents.

"You clever asshole. You undermined me at every opportunity. You showed off and condescended towards me. I actually liked you." Lucien chuckled. His footsteps were uneven and he was covered in blood and bruises. Blood dripped from the corner off his mouth. It was the mirror image of when Molly confronted Lorenzo. Lucien swiped at Caleb but slid, missing him. Caleb pitied Lucien, he realized. 

Caleb was staring at an opportunity to meet the raven queen. So was Lucien, really. But Caleb was still himself. This wasn't Lucien anymore. Molly was gone, and he took humility with him.

Lucien hissed and grabbed the back of Caleb's head. They were centimeters apart from each other. Caleb looked Lucien in the eye. 

"You could have been something with us." Lucien hissed.

"I'm happy being myself." Caleb just smiled. 

Lucien hissed, dropping his rapier. He pulled out a dagger, the coloring that brought to mind the carnival glass. The tip was jagged and some places were dulled. There was a hook placed around the handle and Lucien gripped it. Lucien went pale but still was looking at him with a neutral face. Caleb kept the eye contact through the pain of a blade going between his ribs. 

"May you find your peace." Caleb just rasped out, coughing. He went limp, never closing his eyes. Before nothing overtook him, he saw Lucien's mask slip, with tears building in his eyes. Lucien pulled away, falling backwards as Caleb crumbled.

The city became louder and louder. All of the members of the Mighty Nein could hear it, not Just Beau. The snow was melting and the group as a whole could now see the whole room. Caduceus saw it first. Then Fjord. Jester yelled. Veth froze. The city was forming to the side of their gaze. The group was focused on the still form of Caleb Widogast. His blue eyes were open, but he looked at nothing. Veth rushed over. Blood soaked into her coat and she grabbed his head.

"He's still warm." She whispered. Hot tears fell down her cheeks despite the cold. "We can fix this!" Veth looked at the clerics. "You can fix him!" Jester nodded but she was in shock. 

"T-the Traveler can help what about-" Jester knelt down and looked at Caleb. 

"Don't worry about it. Focus on Caleb." Artagon himself seemed to form besides Jester. He looked over his shoulder and flashes of white lights blinked behind them. Caduceus looked at what was happening. 

The woman from the Traveler-con and a male of elven descent with a fungus on the side of his face  were slashing at the malleable blood stone it seemed to be breaking at the slightest touch.

Artagon had Jester's bag and handed her a diamond.

Jester took a deep breath, steadying herself. She whispered softly and the diamond shattered. The shattered pieces turned golden hot and sunk into Caleb. 

Nothing happened. There was no breath. No blinking. He was still gone. Veth screamed.

"He just needs some more convincing." The elven man whispered. Artagon nodded.

"And what do you suggest?" Artagon asked.

"Give him a reason to come back. Give him…" The elven man trailed off, listening. "Give him redemption. There are many sins he seems to regret and now...it looks like you may get two friends out of this." 

"Isn't the Raven Queen against-" Fjord spoke up.

"Fate is Malleable. You will have to figure it out." The man smiled and went back to slashing the stone. The divine magic seemed to be more efficient as the Somnoven were sliced away. Jester pulled out another diamond. She did the same spell but whispered something into his ear.  Nothing. 

"We all need to do this. Tell him something that would convince him to come back." Jester sighed.

Veth whispered something into Caleb's temple. Caduceus hesitated. Then he took some of the moss on his armor and smeared it over his chest in the shape of a heart. Fjord took a second and grabbed Caleb's hand. The room got hotter and hotter until the ice started to crack. The city finally shattered in one last scream. Beau jerked and grabbed her hand. The red eyes were fading but it was hot, searing against the scar from the acid. It was over. The eye was gone. Beau knelt down and hugged Caleb. Yasha ripped off a piece of her cloth and tied his hair back.

A moment passed. Then two. Caleb was breathing, and his eyes flickered closed. 

"One more person has to say something, but he does have a tether in this realm." The elven man nodded before fading into the shadows. The avatar of the Moonweaver stepped up to the group. "You will not be alone in this." She whispered, before fading into a blinding light. 

Jester finally looked over to Lucien. His eyes were still open, head tilted to look Caleb in the eyes. He was pale, bruises locked into his skin and tears streaked out from the corner of his eyes. His chest was still but even given everything, it was obvious that Lucien was dead.

"Caduceus, i want to go home. The hotel where my mother works will be sufficient for this but I want out of here." Jester looked up at Caduceus, who nodded and grabbed as many as he could to teleport to his lighthouse. Jester grabbed the rest and teleported to the hotel. 

-----------

Marion Lavorre was welcoming, despite less than happy circumstances. She let Caleb have the best room. Caleb slept for a long time. A week passes as Artagon and Jester, with a diamond slowly disintegrating. The two of them built Molly back piece by piece. They had to carve out the Molly part of the soul.it was jagged, fragile so they regrettably had to use Lucien's to stabilize it. The eyes of nine were gone, showing that Molly had tried to cover the eyes with blue ink, but it never worked. It was there now. 

Molly opened his eyes. He was shaking and there was one word that he shouted when he woke up. 

"Run!" Molly shouted at the tip of his tongue. 

Jester sat back and was quiet. The weight in her chest was heavy as Molly looked around. Molly finally looked over to Jester and took a deep breath. 

"You're alive!" Molly smiled. Jester just nodded. 

"A lot happened after you died. But Molly, something happened." Jester sighed. 

"Who's hurt?" Molly nodded and grabbed her hand. Jester just grabbed him and pulled him towards the room. Yasha was there keeping watch. 

Jester pulled away. "I'll tell Essek." 

She left in a hurry. 

Yasha looked at Molly. She was frozen. Her jaw was open and she just stared. Molly looked at her. "I'm back Yasha." 

"Molly?" She asked. Molly just nodded. 

Yasha pulled Molly into a bone crushing hug. She was crying. Molly was crying. He looked over to the bed and oh. 

Caleb laid in the bed, under sheets made of warm materials. 

Memories forced its way into his mind. Molly gasped as the memory of his familiar blade slicing into Caleb's chest. Molly collapsed in Yasha's arms. Tears filled his eyes as the realization of this moment. There was no context in his mind. There was just the image of this moment and Caleb wishing him peace. 

Molly wrapped his tail around his own leg. 

"It's ok. It's going to be ok." Yasha promised. Molly slipped away and stumbled his way to Caleb's bedside. He was so pale…

Molly cupped Caleb's cheek. He was warm, there was a pulse and he was breathing. He just wasn't lively. Molly let tears fall.

"I shouldn't be the thing that extinguishes you. You're so bright, so powerful. There should be time for everything later." Molly whispered and placed a kiss on Caleb's forehead. 

Caleb took a deep breath and opened his eyes. "Is this peace?" 

Molly looked at him and held his breath. 

"Molly…?" Caleb's eyebrows bunched up. 

Molly just nodded. "I'm here." 

The bedroom door opened and Jester walked in with a drow elf. The elf rushed to Caleb's side and Molly backed away. Caleb reached for him but Molly was out of reach. The rest of the group, barr Fjord, jumped into the room. They all stormed the bed to see Caleb slowly wake up. 

Molly walked out of the room. Fjord was standing in the hallway. The weapons Molly could vaguely feel connected to and the dagger that Molly had full memories of were hanging off of Fjord's belt. Molly could understand that. He went back to the room Jester woke him up in. The bed was made and Molly laid down to try to rest.

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

Molly was deep in sleep when a knock on his door was heard. He was groggy but was awakened by it enough to open the door. Caleb was face to face with Molly, inches apart.

"You left." Caleb said simply. There was no anger or hurt. This was just a fact. Molly couldn't look Caleb in the eye. "I wanted you there."

"I didn't want to crowd you." Molly whispered. 

"Bullshit." Caleb sighed. "I don't blame you for this. I barely blame Lucien. I blame myself for allowing you to die." 

Molly flinched. "You didn't stab me." 

"But I lead the mission." Caleb sighed. Molly was able to get a look at Caleb and Molly noted that Caleb looked good. Better than he remembered. He had pants on, but no shirt, covered by a blanket that Caleb was holding like a cape. Molly took a step back and Caleb stepped through. "I missed you so much." Caleb's voice cracked. "Can I sleep here, so when I wake up, I'll immediately know you're still here." 

Molly just nodded. "I'll stay until you tell me otherwise." 

Caleb finally relaxed and laid on the bed, under the covers and his own makeshift cape, and Molly, with trembling hands, laid in the bed, only to be grabbed and held by Caleb. 

"I love you Mollymauk. I wish I could have told you before." Caleb whispered into Molly's chest. 

Molly wept. "One day I will earn that and will say it back to you." 

[zarcake-writes]

The Witch King- Part 3

Hey! Here it is! Part 3! Thank you all for being patient, this took a little longer than expected to finish. Last time, everyone voted for reader to tell the hooded figure their name. 

Catch up: Part 1 Part 2

Vote for part 3! This link is also at the end of the story. You’ll have until 10pm on Friday the 25th to vote. 

Warnings: mention of slavery, kidnapping, hints at abuse

You struggle to speak for a moment because who are you? You can barely recall the person you were before the raid and kidnapping. Do you tell him the name Lady Argent gave you? Pretty Girl. You didn’t like it, but you didn’t dare tell her that. Before Lady Argent, you were only called Girl and other unpleasant names. You don’t want to think of those names or the cruel men who gave them to you.

The tattooed man who bought you from Lady Argent never gave you a name. He didn’t call you anything. Should you tell the hooded figure your real name? The one that you whisper every night before you go to sleep as a way to feel some connection to your past and to make sure you never forgot it. Do you dare? It’s been so long since you’ve said it out loud.

Taking a deep breath, you peak up at the hooded figure and whisper your name. It feels wrong saying it in front of someone. You almost expect this to be a trick and you’ll be punished.

The hooded figure simply nods. “That is a good name. Where are you from?”

You debate what to say again. “Lady Argent’s estate in Cresa.”

“Cresa? That’s a long way from here. Who is Lady Argent?”

You want to tell him the truth. You want to tell him that Lady Argent is a cruel woman who hides her true nature beneath the guise of a gentle and caring woman. You want to tell him of her pit and the punishments. Of the dungeons, the chains, and whips. Of the scars on her slave’s backs and the fear in their eyes when she walked by.

Instead, you say, “Lady Argent is the last good person in Cresa. She is a good and kind woman. She loves us all and takes care of us like family. We are her family.”

Repeating that mantra leaves a sour taste in your mouth. But all her slaves were forced to memorize it, those who did not were punished.

The figure lets out a noise and squats down to your level. “I see. Are you from Cresa?”

“N-no.”

“Where are you from?”

You think for a moment.

Your home was a fishing village right on the coast that was located between two large cities. Despite its small size, the village was on the main road, so it was always busy and filled with people coming and going. Traders, adventurers, travelers, and students would spend the night in the local inn before moving on. Sometimes they would stay if they were looking for work or had business in the area. There was even a small farm owned by a family of Minotaur’s that were beginning to sell their crops.

The village had no official name, but everyone in the region knew the small fishing village between Maport, a massive coastal city, and Olista, the city that was mostly inhabited by magic users. The fishermen of the village were skilled and the main road provided constant opportunities for trade. 

And you called the small village home once. But you don’t even know if the village is there still. It was probably burned down in the raid.

“A fishing village,” you say.

“Where was this village?”

“Between Maport and Olista.”

“I know those cities. If you’re from that area, how did you end up in Cresa?”

You clench your jaw at the memory. The dark night the pirates attacked your home was filled with screams of pain and terror. The heat of the fire as the pirates burned down homes and shops. The smoke made you cough and burned your eyes. The pirate’s dark laughs as they separated families and cornered people trying to flee. Getting separated from your family and being carried away by one of the pirates. Your mother shouting your name, watching helplessly as you were dragged away with dozens of others. The horror etched onto her face will never leave your mind.

After that, you remember the ships. The constant rocking and sickness. On the ship, surrounded by people you knew, you felt safe. You could cling to neighbors and friends, hoping that you all would see home again. But once the ships docked, everyone was separated. You don’t remember much after that. Somehow, you ended up with Lady Argent.

You clench your eyes and shake your head. It hurts to remember that night and every night after. There’s a pounding in your ears and your entire body feels hot. There’s a tightness in your chest, and for a moment, you think you’re dying.

“Hey,” the man’s voice is soft and low. It penetrates the haze that is filling your mind. “It’s ok. Breathe.”

“Can’t,” you gasp.

“Yes, you can, take your time. In and out, nice and easy.”

You nod and try to do as he said.

“Keep listening to me. Focus on where you are now.”

Again, you nod. You can feel the rough stone floor beneath your bare feet. The stone pillar you’re still hiding behind is cool to the touch and solid. You can hear the man’s voice, so soft and calming. The air is cold and causes goosebumps to bloom across your skin. And you can hear your own breathing slow down.

The pounding in your body lessens and breathing becomes so much easier. When you open your eyes, the figure is still crouched in front of you.

“There you go. You’re doing wonderful. Just slow, easy breaths,” he says.

You nod and wipe your face. A mixture of sweat and tears is smeared onto the back of your hand.

“Are you ok?” he asks.

You shrug.

“Can I ask you another question?”

You look up at him. The hood still hides his face, but his voice is so soft and gentle that you imagine he has a kind face.

You want to say no, but you can’t. “Yes.”

“How did you meet my former apprentice?”

“The man with the tattoos?”

“Yes.”

You glance in the direction where his body was thrown. The pillar hides the spot where he landed from your view, but you can still hear the crunch from when his body hit the ground.

“He’s… he’s dead,” you say.

The figure nods. “Yes, he is.”

“He attacked you.”

The figure nods again. “He attacked me and I defended myself.”

“And that armor came to life and…” you trail off.

“They disposed of his body. The suits guard my home, they will not hurt you.”

You nod.

“How did you meet him?” he asks again.

You hesitate. Lady Argent told her slaves to never say they were bought or sold by her. It was the city’s worst kept secret that Lady Argent was at the center of the slave trade. Some claimed she decided what villages and towns would be raided, but you weren’t sure about that. It wouldn’t surprise you if she was the sole person behind the trade of people, she did have her hand in every other terrible thing in the city. But the city officials couldn’t touch her. No one could touch her. Anyone who tried ended up dead or worse.

“Lady Argent… gave me to him.”

“What do you mean gave?”

You look down at the floor and say nothing.

The first time you met the tattooed man was your last day at Lady Argent’s estate. She had you summoned into her meeting room. Lady Argent was seated at her massive desk, flanked by two of her guards. The tattooed man stood on the other side of the desk, his face was blank and cold.

Lady Argent introduced you to the tattooed man as Pretty Girl. Then she said you were no longer a member of her “family” and that you belonged to the tattooed man. He made no comment, simply motioned for you to follow him. And you did, because what were you going to do? Argue and demand to stay? No, you couldn’t.

When you don’t elaborate, the hooded figure lets out a heavy breath. After a moment of heavy silence, he speaks. “Can I ask you one more question?”

“Y-yes.”

“Are you hungry?”

The question catches you off guard. But at the mention of food your stomach growls. You look at the figure in fear, but he only laughs. It’s soft and kind.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Come, let me feed you.”

He holds out a hand for you to take. It’s only then you realize that he’s wearing gloves.

“You… you would feed me?”

“Of course. What kind of person would I be to not feed a hungry guest? If my mother found out I let a guest go hungry, she would bend me over her knee and spank me.”

You let out a soft laugh at the image. His gloved hand is still outstretched towards you. Slowly, you take it.

The glove is cool to the touch. The black leather is worn but clearly made by someone with skill.

The hooded figure helps you stand and motions for you to follow him.

As he leads you towards the exit of the circular room, the two metal suits come back in. They salute the hooded figure and walk pass him, not even glancing down at you. The figure nods at them and continues out the door. You look back and watch as the two suits take their original positions in front of the pillars. You wonder if any other seemingly inanimate object in this place is really alive.

The figure leads you out of the circular room and down a hall. With him, the halls don’t seem as confusing and unpleasant. They seem almost normal. The green walls don’t seem as unnatural and sickly. Even the glowing green fires don’t look as haunting.

Eventually, you both arrive at a large kitchen. Unlike the rest of the fortress, the walls here are made of dark stone. And it’s clear most of the kitchen has not been used in a very long time. A single stove in the far corner has herbs hanging above it, while the others are piled high with pots and pans and dust. Near the stove is a fire pit with a large orange fire and pot hanging over it. Something bubbles in the pot and smells good.

“Take a seat there.” The hooded figure points at a chair near the fire pit.

He grabs a wooden bowl and scoops some of the pot’s contents into the bowl. He hands it to you and takes a seat on the other side of the fire.

The bowl is filled with some kind of meat and vegetable soup. Just the warmth alone makes you want to cry, but the taste is something else. It’s hearty and reminds you of sitting in the kitchen with your mother, watching her cook, and eating dinner with her. Though much of the soup you ate with her was fish-based.

You eat the entire bowl faster than you expected. The last time you had a warm meal was at Lady Argent’s estate. While the food her cooks made was good, it could not compare to this simple bowl of meat and vegetables.

“Thank you, it was delicious,” you say, slightly embarrassed at how fast you ate the food.

“You’re welcome,” he sounds pleased, “But I must admit, I did not make this.”

“Who did?”

“The chef, Nith. She’s a goblin who has lived here for a very long time. She’s probably in her room sleeping.”

“Other people live here?”

The figure nods. “Not many, but yes, others live here.”

“How many?”

His head tilts like he’s thinking. “It depends. People tend to come and go. The most that have been here in recent years have been about fifteen. But usually, it’s about five, myself included.”

“Where are they?”

“Around. Nith spends most of her time in the kitchen and garden, but she’ll visit the library if she’s looking for a recipe. I have a maid, Yaza, who cleans most of the fortress and does laundry. Just a warning, she’s a drider.”

You nod and do your best to hide the shiver that runs through you. There was a drider at Lady Argent’s estate, but he was massive and scary and lived in her dungeons. Lady Argent often used him as a way to keep her slaves in line. When you first arrived at Lady Argent’s estate, she showed you and a few others the drider. You remember how she hinted that any bad behavior would result in a visit with him.

“Who else?”

“I have another two apprentices. A tiefling, he spends most of his time in the library doing research or out in the courtyard practicing his magic. And a half-orc who lives in the smithy.”

You open your mouth to speak, but instead, you yawn. You didn’t even realize how tired you were, but the warmth from the fire and the warmth in your belly made you comfortable. And with that comfort came drowsiness.

“You’re tired. And it’s been a long day, would you like to sleep? I have many rooms available. We can also get you some new clothes to sleep in.”

You bite your lip and look down at the empty bowl in your hand. “What will it cost?”

“Nothing, I swear.”

You nod, unsure if you should believe him or not.

The hooded figure leads you to the kitchen and towards the entrance of the palace. It feels like minutes have passed since you were first here with the tattooed man. It’s probably only been about an hour or so.

The figure leads you up those massive stairs and down the right hall. How he doesn’t get lost, you don’t know. Eventually, he stops at a wooden door. He opens it and motions for you to step inside.

The room is huge with a massive bed in the center. The sheets and blankets look so soft and warm, you’ve never seen anything like it before. Even Lady Argent’s own bed wasn’t as plush looking. There’s a set of glass doors that lead to a large balcony outside, where there’s a small table with chairs. A lit fireplace is on the wall across from the bed.

The hooded figure opens a nearby dresser and pulls out a nightgown. It’s simple and long, but it looks clean.

“This may be too big,” he holds the nightgown out for you to take, “but hopefully it will be fine for the night.”

You take it and nod. “Thank you.”

“You’re most welcome. Get some rest, if you need anything, you can pull that string near your bed. The maid, Yaza, or I will come to check on you.”

You nod again.

“Goodnight.” He turns to leave.

“Wait.”

He stops and looks back.

“What do I call you?”

“Voxir. You can call me Voxir.”

You nod and say his name softly. It’s strange, not a name you’ve ever heard before. “Goodnight, Voxir.”

He bows and leaves you alone in the room.

You put on the nightgown. It’s several sizes too big, but it’s clean and new. You crawl into the bed, savoring the warmth and soft sheets. As soon as your head hits the pillow, you’re asleep.

When you wake, the afternoon sun is shining in the room. At first, you’re confused, but then you remember everything that happened the night before. Arriving at the fabled Witch King’s home, the man with tattoos dying, the hooded figure named Voxir, him giving you food, and him letting you sleep in a room. It almost doesn’t feel real.

But as you sit up and stretch in the bed, you know it’s real. The fire in the fireplace is still burning, just like last night, making you wonder if the fire is magic like everything else here. The sun is bright outside, probably early afternoon.

For the first time in a long time, you don’t know what to do. For so long, you had people telling you what to do. But no one is here this morning to tell you what to do. No one was even here to wake you up.

What do you do? Should you go back to sleep? You are still tired and a few more hours of sleep would be good for you. But would that be rude? It might be. Maybe you should pull the string near the bed as Voxir instructed? He said that would bring him or that drider maid he mentioned to assist you. But do you need assistance? Should you put on your old clothes and go look for Voxir? You might get lost though, so that’s probably not a smart idea. Should you try to leave? But leave to where? Again, you remember you have no idea where this fortress is or how to leave this mountain range.

What should you do?

[worldwidemochiguy]

until i saw you - mafia yandere! namjoon

Summary: You were up at two am finishing an essay for college. All alone, you felt like you were the only person awake in the world. Until you heard the gunshot, until you looked up, until you saw him... and until he saw you.

Word Count: 2.5K

Masterlist 

a/n: hello everybody! this is in response to @kpopgirlbtssvt​ ‘s prompt asking for fem! reader who is going to college in South Korea to see mafia member namjoon doing mafia stuff and then him comforting her and eventually taking her home. I hope this is ok! also, for future reference, a ‘food market’ is like a type of charity shop in South Korea where disadvantaged people can go and get food and clothing and essentials for free and people volunteer to help at them. 

You take another sip of your vanilla latte, humming at the pleasant taste. You generally have more of a sweet tooth and prefer to order a hot chocolate instead of coffee — much to the amusement of your friends — but you knew you would need the extra shot of caffeine to stay awake. You’ve been so busy with college assignments and all the little jobs you do to keep yourself afloat that you have ended up awake at one in the morning, furiously typing your essay in the hopes that you can complete it within two days. 

You’re very lucky the owner of your favourite cafe, a sweet old lady who has given you free daanpatbbang more times than you could count, despite your protestations, seems to like you so much. She was kind and trusting enough to allow you to stay the night at the cafe, working on your essay. Jiho, the girl who was cleaning down the tables, left to go to bed, leaving you completely alone in the night. 

It is slightly eerie. The only light in the cafe is coming from the screen of your laptop, the only noises are your steady breathing and the soft tapping of your fingers on the keyboard. If you looked outside the floor-to-ceiling glass window you loved to sit next to, all you would see is the soft glow of streetlights reflected in the puddles on the sidewalk, and the occasional car passing by. 

Seoul is asleep. You just wish there were someone awake to keep you company. 

The thought dissipates in the wind as something catches your eye. You see a man, half-running, half-staggering out from an alley that opens into the sidewalk across from where you are sitting. A hand yanks him back into the shadows. As if in a trance, you rise from your seat, abandoning your tepid latte and move towards the exit. If you have any common sense, you would hide behind the counter, or run away as soon as you reach the door, following your head and avoiding trouble and minding your own business when anything looks dangerous. 

But, for some indiscernible reason, you drift out onto the sidewalk, closer to the point where the staggering man disappeared. You notice a dark stain spilling out from the shadows onto the concrete. The moonlight bounces off it, except the white light has been burnt as it reflects, changing into the deep red of sunset.

The night is no longer silent — harsh pants of exertion and the sounds of bodies being slammed against brick emanating from the darkness. You feel a building pressure in your head, a voice that sounds exactly like yours screaming at you run! run! run!

A gunshot.

The staggering man falls to the ground, his body half-in and half out of shadow. His head has been blown open, and its remnants are scattered across the street. His hand is outstretched towards you, open and grasping, asking for help. 

You vaguely register the coldness spreading across your backside. You worry for a second that you have wet yourself but then realise, with some relief, you have just fallen against the wall of the cafe and slid to the ground. You feel guilty for feeling relief at a time like this, your thoughts turn sharp and loud in your head and then you scream again. Again? Oh, you had forgotten the first scream. You guess you are once more the only person awake in Seoul.

But. If you are the only person awake in Seoul then who is coming towards you?

The second man to emerge from the shadows, and you question how many more are hiding behind him, takes measured steps towards you. His gun — he has a gun, and you want to scream again, but you start crying instead — is relaxed in his hand. It’s still smoking slightly. You wonder if it would feel warm pressed against your forehead. You guess you will find out soon enough. 

He is tall, and when he stops in front of your curled up figure his shadow covers you completely. But then he crouches, and a pair of dark, intelligent, earnest eyes meet yours. It is difficult to maintain eye-contact when everything looks blurry to you, your tears forming into stained glass in front of your pupils, but you do your best. If you disappoint him, you just know that he’ll shoot you too. 

“누구십니까?” He asks you a question, but you can’t answer, and for some reason this inability to obey his expectations sends you into a spiral. You burry your sobs in your knees, strains of your thoughts slipping out as I can’t, I don’t know, please don’t hurt me. He sighs, then asks in slightly accented, but fluent English.

“Who are you?” 

His voice is smooth. It is the first voice you have heard all night and it startles you for some reason, your spine stiffening and forcing your head upwards again. He had leaned in even closer, and now your nose is an inch from his. He tilts his head, almost encouragingly, and you try to swallow even though your mouth has completely dried up.

“My name’s y/n. I’m a college student. I-I was working on an essay.” Your voice is scratchy and quiet, and every other syllable is a poorly concealed sob, but the man nods politely as if he is even remotely interested in what you have to say. 

“An essay, huh? At three am?” It’s like he is disapproving of you staying up late. “Did you leave it to the last minute?” He definitely sounds disappointed in you, and your heart thumps painfully at the thought, though you can’t say why.

“No, no, I- I’m double majoring and I’m doing multiple jobs to support myself, so I don’t have time for schoolwork. The essay is due in two days, so I’m n-not leaving it to the last minute.”

“If it’s due in two days, why are you staying up all night finishing it now?” You could almost say there was concern in his voice, which prompts you to keep on telling this stranger more details about yourself.

“I’m volunteering at a food market all day tomorrow so I won’t have time to do it then.” 

“You’re-“ he breaks into a smile, and your heart cracks at the realisation that he has dimples, “You don’t have time for schoolwork because you volunteer.” He doesn’t phrase it like a question, but you shrug self-consciously anyway, feeling colour bloom on your cheeks. Your friends always teased you for it, so it makes sense that this man would as well. 

“You’re so- innocent.” 

He pauses, before reaching up slowly, as if he doesn’t want to startle you, and cups your cheek. The semi-dried tear tracks on your face are wiped away as he swipes a thumb under your eye. You don’t know why his touch doesn’t frighten you especially since he had been holding a loaded gun, though it had been discarded as soon as he crouched down to your level. 

“Who takes care of you?” He asks, and your brow wrinkles slightly in confusion. He huffs a laugh, then brushes his thumb over the crease until you relax again. But you still feel bewildered. That was a question you had never asked yourself, but now that you turn it over in your mind, you realise you don’t know. 

Who takes care of you? Not your dad, who walked out on your family before you got old enough to have a chance at remembering his face. Not your mom, who relied on you to send money home to support her, and then spent it all on alcohol to give her a chance at forgetting your dad’s face. Not your little brother, whom you loved with all your heart and who was too young to understand anything other than the fact that you were who he could rely on and mom was not. You wish you could say your friends took care of you, or at least comforted you, but it felt like all they did was mock you, for so many things such as the cheap clothes you always wore and did your best to take care of, to the ease with which you gave in to others’ demands. The truth was, no one took care of you at all, and you had never even realised that until the stranger had asked. 

“Y/n?” His voice rouses you from your thoughts and you snap your eyes back to his obediently, even if tears are once again obscuring your vision. You hadn’t realised you had started to cry. 

“Who takes care of you?” He reiterates the question, and before you can stop it, a sob racks your body.

“No one. No one does, no matter how hard I wish for them to.”

You bow your head, watching as your tears drip off your face and create small ripples in the puddle next to you. Suddenly, the ripples increase and you realise it has started raining, like the sky is crying along with you. The closest thing to companionship you have. 

You are encased in warmth and protected from the ice-cold rain as the man wraps his arms around you. You shiver as he presses you to his chest, somehow lifting you into his arms and protecting you from the chill with his body. 

“You are wrong, y/n.” His voice rumbles, and your shivers instantly calm. “From now on, I’m going to take care of you.”

“Y-you are?” You sound fragile and pathetic even to your own ears.

“I never make promises I don’t intend to keep. And I promise you, y/n, I will always protect and care for you.” 

“But,” you flounder, not exactly in distress, but disbelieving that anyone would do this for you, “Why?”

“Why?” The man repeats, now walking along the sidewalk in fast paces, though you barely notice. “Because when you saw me, you did not run. When I asked, you answered obediently. You are desperately in need of someone to protect you, to take care of you, to love you.” At the last phrase, his voice dipped lower and you burrowed deeper into his chest, desperate to believe that he was being truthful and this was real.

“You’re going to t-take care of me?” You stutter, and his lips curl up in a playful smirk, revealing the dimple that you were already growing to love.

“Of course I will, and you only have to do one thing in return.”

“What is it?” You ask right away, desperate to please him. He does seem pleased by your responsiveness, and you can feel your heart skip a beat with excitement.

“All you have to do, y/n, is love me.” 

He stops walking, and you realise you have reached an expensive black car parked by the side of the road. He opens the passenger door for you and sets you down, moving swiftly to the other side to occupy the drivers seat. You notice he puts child-lock on, effectively trapping you in the car, but it is unnecessary. You are already leaning sideways slightly so that you can rest against him. He appreciates your clinginess, and presses a kiss to the side of your temple before putting the car into gear. Butterflies settle in your stomach pleasantly as you relish the tingling feeling his lips leave on your skin. 

“I-“ you start, then falter, and he sends you a glance, still mostly focused on the road.

“If something is bothering you, say it, y/n.” He commands firmly, but by no means unkindly. You take a deep breath to steel yourself.

“I don’t even know your name.” You sound almost mournful of that fact and he turns to you with a boyish grin fixed on his full lips, and his duality shocks you, switching from the intimidating man with a gun to the sweet guy who wants to take care of you in a heartbeat.

“My name is Namjoon.” 

“Namjoon,” you try, and his encouraging smile and nod give you a fraction more courage to continue “you know how you said- you said that if you were going to take care of me, I have to- have to-“ you falter again.

“Yes, y/n?” He prompts you patiently, but you can see his hands have started to tighten on the steering wheel. Like he’s angry with you. Panic coils in your gut and you retreat back to your seat, gaze firmly fixed on the airbag in front of you. He notices your distress right away and attempts to comfort you.

“Listen, y/n.” You immediately snap to attention, despite the fear now causing your breath to come in short whimpers. “I want you to say what’s on your mind. I promise you, I won’t punish you for it, no matter what. I want you to tell me what’s wrong.”

“Ok,” you say unsteadily, and Namjoon takes a hand off the steering wheel to run it up and down your leg comfortingly. His touch calms you, and you take a deep inhale before speaking again.

“You said that if you were going to take care of me then I have to love you. And I don’t- I don’t know how to… love you.” He opens his mouth to intercede, but you don’t give him the chance. “I don’t mean that I- I mean, it’s not to do with you specifically, it’s just… I’ve never loved anyone before. And we’ve only just met. I… I’m worried I won’t do it right.” You trail off in a small voice, and you see his irritation melt away instantly.

“No, my love, you don’t have to worry about it. I didn’t mean that you had to love me right away.” He explains and relief floods your system, allowing you to relax into his side again. “I just meant that… I want you to be affectionate with me and allow love to grow over time.” 

“I just want someone to wake up with each morning and send me off with a kiss before I go to work, someone to worry about me while I’m off on business and to fuss over my injuries. I want someone to take care of and to buy things that make them happy and make sure they’re warm and cozy at night. That someone has always been faceless until…”

“…until?” You question, your heart in your throat.

“Until I saw you.” 

“Wow…” you chuckle even as a tear slips down your cheek, “If I’d have known about your talent for romantic speeches I wouldn’t have worried about taking too long to fall in love with you.” His laugh is loud and warm and it washes over you, dragging you under the tide and drowning you in feelings you hadn’t been aware existed within you. He takes one hand off the steering wheel to intertwine his fingers with yours and you let him, a smile outshining the tears on your face as you start the next chapter of your life, feeling loved and wanted for the first time. 

[deadlynightshade-and-hyacinth]

I’m Gonna Crawl

Chapter 4  

The show went by in a multicolored blur. The bright lights sparkled across the stage in candescent brilliance. The soft yellows glowing around Robert’s halo, Jonesy’s calm aura glowing in orange, Bonzo, blue and vivid, his dark hair shining under the luminance and Jimmy's horror inducing bow solo under hazy, purple and crimson luminosity. I never wavered from my spot; I didn’t want to, I was entranced. My body was tingling in ways it never had, and in ways no man had ever made me discern. I chewed on my lower lip to keep myself grounded as I watched Jimmy in all his intensity captivate the thousands of people in the crowd, watching in awe while he made love to his guitar, soft and gentle, rough and dominant.  

Every song was skillfully executed, every note filled with pure, raw, unadulterated eminence. I took mental notes as I stood in an anesthetized-like trance.  

“Ladies and gentlemen, John Henry Bonham, Moby Dick!” Robert chimed into the mic before stepping off stage. Drenched in sweat, his golden curls damp and shining in the dim light off stage, padded over to me looking invigorated. “Enjoying the show?” He took my arm and led me to the bar where he fetched a couple of beers. He opened one and handed it to me. “I’m absolutely parched.” He dragged a hand across his forehead before taking a big swig from his bottle.  

“I am in complete reverence.” I murmured. He smiled in return. I looked past Robert and saw Jimmy making his way over to us, even more drenched than Robert, his dark chest hairs matted to his glowing and pale skin. As he walked with gusto like he owned the earth, he ran his fingers in his dark wet tendrils, his smile illuminating the room.  

“Great crowd tonight.” He murmured to Robert as he stretched an arm in front of me to grab a beer from the bar.  

“Not doing your usual routine tonight?” Robert raised an eyebrow at Jimmy.  

“I guess not.” He responded bleakly. “Pretty bird wore me out before the show.” He gave me a cheap wink, a self-satisfied smile across his smug face.  

I returned the grin. “Your little brunette?” I smiled wider eliciting a confused look from both him and Robert. “Found her crying in the corner before the show.” I gave him a look of disapproval. “Shame on you Mr. Page… You should’ve at least put out if you were going to use her in a shameless attempt to evoke envy.” I took a swig of my beer and walked back to the stage to watch Bonzo.  

“I fuckin’ like her.” I heard Robert chime as I walked away.  

I found my spot beside the amp and watched the wild man pound his drums with everything he had. I felt someone lightly tug on a mass of my hair then his hot wet body was pressed against my back. “I like chasing you.” He whispered in my ear. “Give into me.” He pressed his hips into me, I could feel something hardening against my ass.  

Since I had said ‘no’ to him earlier, after my talk with Robert I felt as though I had all the power and the devious little devil in me was running rampant with it. I moved my hips, caressing him with my ass, until he moaned low and raw in my ear. I grabbed a handful of his wet hair in my hand and pulled his face over my shoulder so my lips were at his ear. “In your dreams.” His hips twitched against me. Another involuntary and uncontrollable urge surged through me and without a thought or consideration of consequences I bit down on his earlobe, dragging my teeth across it. I released his hair and turned my face away from his.  

He groaned, his hands on my hips holding me tighter against him.  

“Jimmy!” One of the roadies holding his guitar yelled. “You’re on…”  

Jimmy mumbled something before he let go of me and snatched his guitar from the intimidated roadie who flinched as he strode past him.  

“What was that?” Robert nudged me.  

“Just beating him at his own game.” I shrugged. I couldn’t take my eyes off of Jimmy and he didn’t take his eyes off me as he slung the guitar strap over his shoulder and waited for his cue.  

“You know he was right earlier. He has definitely met his match.” Robert shook his head in disbelief before pinching my cheek and getting back onstage.  

The band played a few more songs before Richard came back to my side and grabbed my arm. “I’m supposed to take you to the cars now.”  

“Right now?” I asked. “The show isn’t over.”  

“Need to beat the crowds.” He turned and dragged me through the enormous amount of people backstage to the waiting Fleetwood's in the back drive. “This one.” He stopped me in front of the first limo and shoved me into the backseat. “Don’t leave this car.” He warned before turning on his heels and heading back into the arena.  

I sat waiting patiently for about ten minutes before I heard voices approaching. I watched Robert and Jonesy get into the car behind me and Bonzo hop into another with Peter and Richard. Both cars pulled out and sped off. I looked out the window toward the stage area and watched Jimmy stride toward the car I was in. “Fuck.” I breathed. I should’ve hopped into Robert’s car before it left.  

Jimmy opened the door and hopped in. “Ready.” He stated to the driver then sat quietly beside me as the car pulled out. He plucked a pack of cigarettes from the car door and took one out placing it between his lips. “Cigarette?” He offered, staring forward.  

I pulled one out of the pack. “Thank you.” He lit his, then held his lighter under my cigarette.  

“Anytime.” His mouth twitched. He took a drag, the smoke billowing out. “You know… Last minute changes tend to be a drag….” He murmured quietly, cigarette dangling from his lips. “This change though I find quite amusing.”  

“What are you talking about?” I suspired, already growing vexed.  

“Well usually we have enough rooms for everyone working on tour with us but tonight when we get to Providence, I’m afraid we are one room short.” He finally turned his head to look at me, an insidious grin plastered across his face.  

“Please elaborate, this cryptic shit has gotten old, James.”  

“I like it better when you call me ‘Mr. Page.’” He bit his lip again, his grin never wavering.  

“The change?” I pressed.  

He rolled his eyes and exhaled. “Peter couldn’t get you a room at the hotel so I offered mine.” He grinned. “Promise I’ll be on my best behavior.” His smirk said otherwise.  

“No. Peter wouldn’t have agreed to that. I refuse to stay with you.”  

He mocked me with a look of dismay then smiled again. “Unless I made an extremely valid argument to make him unable to refuse my offer.” He shrugged.  

“What valid argument could you have possibly made?” I didn’t believe his bullshit for a moment.  

“Well we don’t have much time until we are in New York and time between shows is too hectic to go over every detail of what I want or…” the corner of his lips lifted into his crooked smile, “what I need from you.”  

“Bullshit. There are three days off before New York.” My tone was aggravated.  

“Alright, alright.” He put his hands up in surrender. “I got Richard to give the ok. Peter doesn’t know. What’s done is done, the extra room we had we no longer have.” He smirked. “He did warn you he would do anything to make us happy.” He shrugged.  

“You motherfucker.” I shook my head at him.  

His eyes widened in amused horror. “Quite the mouth on you.” I folded my arms across my chest and looked forward, too annoyed to look at him without somehow inflicting pain on him. “Oh, come on, love. I’ll be a good little boy.” He pulled a strand of my hair.  

“Fuck you.” I blurted, still staring forward.  

“Only if you ask nicely.” He tried to play but I wasn’t biting. I saw him shake his head from my peripheral. “Drink?” He pulled a bottle of whisky from the door and held it out to me.  

I took it without a word, twisted the top off and took a big swig. I pushed it back toward him. He grabbed the bottle, his fingers caressing mine until I pulled away. He took a swig from the bottle and grimaced slightly. “I wasn’t joking when I told you I would have you.” He murmured nonchalantly.  

“And I wasn’t joking when I said, ‘in your dreams’.”  

He wrapped his hand around my jaw and forced me to look at him. “Give in.” He pleaded; his eyes full of craving.  

The longing in his face made me grin. I mouthed the word ‘no’.  

He gazed thoughtfully into my eyes. “You like this as much as I do.” His eyes narrowed at the revelation. His epiphany had him reeling. His grin was genuinely childlike. And for a moment I thought I was seeing another piece of the puzzle.  

“Maybe.” I shrugged and tried to pull away from his grasp but he was stronger than I was. “Let go of me.” I said calmly.  

He grinned and mouthed the word ‘no’.  

I couldn’t help but laugh. This was the first interchange with him that hadn’t made me feel the need to punch him as hard as I could in the face. I suddenly felt so childish and wondered if he too felt the same way. “If you won’t let me go will you at least feed me.” I tried to nod at the bottle in his other hand but his firm grasp on my face made it hard to move.  

He nodded and gave me that damn crooked smile. He held the bottle to my lips and tipped it upward. As the liquid entered my mouth, he slowly released my jaw and gently traced it with his fingers. He pulled the bottle away, his eyes never leaving my lips.  

“Thank you.” I smiled.  

His fingers traced my jawline, slowly making their way into my hair until his fingers were tangled in, his palm resting on the nape of my neck. He opened his mouth to speak when the car came to a stop, we had arrived at the plane. He sighed heavily and turned away. Suddenly I felt despondent. Despite him being a constant indignation today, I enjoyed this car ride or at least the last few minutes of it and forgot that it eventually had to end.  

I started to feel that urge again, a loss of control. My hands were moving without me commanding them. I grabbed his face and held him so he was looking at me, his eyes lit up, bright and eager. “Chase me.” I breathed, I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to taste him. I moved my face closer to his, he sat motionless, his eyes wide, hoping. I looked at his stunning lips and traced my tongue from the bottom to the top. His lips parted under my tongue; his warm breath almost sank me. I saw his hands moving toward me and reality flattened me. I let go of him and exited the car as fast as I could.  

‘Fucking get it together!’. The cool breeze felt good on my skin. I felt refreshed, my head getting more and more clear, regaining control.  I was being reckless and naive. ‘Stupid.’. As I climbed the steps of the plane I looked back at the car. Jimmy still hadn’t left.  

When I got onto the plane, the rest of the band was in what they called ‘the club’ with drinks and food, joints being passed around, coke being cut on the table and half naked girls dancing around the unoccupied patches of space. Richard handed me a beer, clanked his against mine then wandered off.  

Jonesy looked up from the piano he was fingering and grinned. “Where’s Jimmy? Did you finally kill him?” He laughed.  

“Ha-ha.” Jimmy gave a simulated laugh as he walked into the room. “She wouldn’t kill me.” He stood beside me and grinned. “She likes me too much.” He pinched my ass before walking through the crows and into the other room.  

I rolled my eyes and searched for an open seat. “Come, darling.” Bonzo patted his knee. “Open seat.” He winked. I gave him a look and his face turned innocent. “I’ll be good.” He assured me. “Unlike Jimmy.” I took his offer and squeezed through the crowd and sat on his lap. “Although I can see why he can’t seem to keep it in his pants around you.” He grinned.  

“Trust me it hasn’t and won’t be coming out of his pants for me.” I heard Jimmy scoffing in the other room. I needed to behave. ‘My last drink.’ I looked at the beer in my hand and took a big gulp.  

“California darling!” Robert leaned in. “So...” He was quite drunk and definitely stoned. “How’s your decision coming along.” He sloppily whispered.  

I shook my head as discreetly as I could. “Talk about that later.” I whispered back.  

“Just pretend I’m not here.” Bonzo was grinning at something across the room. “Excuse me, ladies.” He lifted me as he stood up then placed me back on the couch with little effort.  

Robert grinned at Bonzo as he walked away then he snapped back to me and raised an eyebrow. “So…”  

I merely shrugged and played it off like there was nothing to say.  

“Oh, come on!” He was way too excited about all this.  

“Nothing is going to happen. I’m doing my job then going home.” I whispered.  

He looked into my eyes intently. “The car ride,” He held my gaze. “What did he do?”  

“Nothing.” I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks.  

He started grinning, his eyes narrow. “What did you do?”  

My heart stopped and the lie blurted out, “Nothing!”  

He shook his head as though he disapproved but his happy grin gave away his farce. “Tisk, tisk.”  

I looked around the room, avoiding eye contact with Robert. I took another sip of my beer while I scanned the crowd.  

“Looking for him?” He leaned in, talking like the gossiping girl in high school.  

I gave him an exacerbated look. “No, Robert. Just trying to avoid this conversation for now.”  

He laughed and took the beer from my hand and took a drink of it. “Tell me what happened and I’ll drop it forever.” His brows wiggled.  

“Why do you want to know so badly?” I giggled.  

“Because I must know.” He stated, his hands on his hips. “Did you kiss him?” His eyes were intense.  

“No.” I stammered too quickly to which he narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t kiss him,” I continued, “I may have... kind of licked him?” I felt embarrassed.  

“I’m sorry?” His head was tilted to the side. “You licked him?”  

I bit down on my lower lip as though biting down as hard as I could would ease the embarrassment I felt. “I licked him.”  

One eyebrow raised. “Where?”  

“His mouth, Robert.” I quickly answered before he could elaborate where else his twisted mind could conjure.  

He grinned like the Cheshire cat. “Good girl.”

[one-boring-person]

You Look Nervous.

David (The Lost Boys) x reader

Warnings: Implied sexual content (very much implied) .

Requested by @theeblueehazee : "I have a request if you're still taking them? It's another David request because I'm vampire trash basically lol maybe a story about David really liking or evening the reader, and he wants her to meet the guys. But he's super scared of them embarrassing him in front of her or afraid that they'll scare her, period, because she's a nice but really shy person? So David makes the boys swear to be on their best behaviour but Paul and Marko don't know the meaning of it lol I just love your stories!❤❤

A/N: I'm glad you like my stories! That really makes my day 😅💛 and thank you for requesting! I hope this works for what you had in mind❤

Masterlist

"Stop picking."

I look up at the blonde biker as he reaches a gloved hand over, taking mine in his as he tries to pull my fingers from my sleeves, smiling slightly as he gives me a reassuring look, though there's something off about his behaviour. As usual, he stands leaning against his motorcycle, a cigarette between his lips as he watches the crowd, but his demeanor seems tense, his eyes flicking over the writhing hoard of people almost nervously, neck muscles taut as he cranes his head around, as if looking for something, or someone.

"Sorry." I reply quietly, casting a look over his posture again, my brow wrinkling in confusion.

Noticing my gaze, David fixes his piercing eyes on me, cocking his head a bit as he exhales a breath of smoke, eyebrows drawing together curiously.

"What?"

"Oh, well, you look kinda nervous." I inform him, biting my lip as I turn my gaze away from him, worried that I've brought up something I shouldn't have, my free hand instinctually lifting to my face, where I start to chew on my fingernails, trying not to wince when I accidentally catch one of the already bitten-down ones.

"I do? How come?" The platinum blonde queries, visibly adjusting himself, though this only proves my theory.

I go to reply, only to be cut off by the sound of loud motorcycle engines revving to my right, the blonde to my left tensing again, his jaw clenching barely noticeably as he catches sight of the riders, my own gaze turning to the newcomers. Upon seeing them, my eyes widen, weight shifting inadvertently onto the balls of my feet, as if ready to up and leave.

The closest is a tall, tanned brunette with dark eyes, his expression seemingly neutral as he makes eye contact with me, barely reacting to my presence at all, his quietness as well as the fact he is shirtless beneath his leather jacket slightly unnerving me despite the very brief flash of a smile he sends my way. Just behind him is a shorter blonde with curly hair, a broad smirk plastered across his face as he catches sight of me, his doe eyes boring into me with a mischievous glint, eyebrows raised at my presence. As if mimicking me, he lifts a thumb to his mouth, where he starts biting at it, keeping eye contact the entire time, even as he leans back to speak to the last of them. This one is a lanky Twisted Sister lookalike, his dishevelled hair and choice of attire leading me to think this, though my mind briefly short-circuits when I notice him blatantly raking his eyes over my form, the action drawing a deep blush to my cheeks as I shift again, pulling the sleeves of my jacket over my hands in slight discomfort. Seeing this, David moves so he is standing closer to me, gently pressing his chest against my back reassuringly, his hand at my hip protectively. Looking up into his face, I realise he is carrying an odd expression, as if warning the others of something.

"Damn, who brought the eye candy?" The Twisted Sister lookalike remarks in way of greeting, winking suggestively at me as he dismounts from his bike, lip between his teeth, "I'm Paul, by the way."

Swallowing, I try to fight the rising blush again, leaning back against David as much as possible for support, the solidness of his chest behind me reassuring me a little.

"(Y/n). It's nice to meet you." I make the mistake of offering him my hand to shake, surprised when the other, smaller blonde skips in ahead of Paul, scooping my hand up and lifting it to his lips, which he then uses to press a soft kiss to my knuckles. Shocked, I withdraw my hand quickly, the action far too intimate to have come from a complete stranger. Behind me, I feel David's chest vibrate as he lets out a cautionary growl of sorts, both of the other blondes giggling at this.

"I'm Marko." The short one informs me, taking my hand in his again as he uses it to pull me forwards slightly, Paul quickly slinging an arm around my shoulders as I'm helplessly dragged in towards them. I stiffen as I feel Paul nuzzle at my neck, the blonde deliberately sniffing at me, his breath hot against the skin there, though I don't feel it long, my instincts kicking in as I pull away again, accidentally knocking into Marko, who steadies me against his chest, drawing a surprised squeak from me as he smirks down at me.

"She smells great, where'd you find her?" Paul comments to David, whose jaw is clenched, his muscles rigid as he watches this exchange, reaching out to gently pull me back to him, wrapping an arm around my waist again, fingers pressing into me slightly in anger.

"Aww, come on! We won't bite..." Marko teases, bursting into a fit of giggles with Paul at some inside joke until their companion gives the latter a clip round the ear.

"Hey! I didn't make the joke!" He protests, rubbing his head a bit, clearly a bit disgruntled after this, though his friend can barely control himself.

"Doesn't mean you don't deserve it." The brunette points out, rolling his eyes in exasperation at the other two before turning back to me, "I'm Dwayne. It's nice to finally meet you, (Y/n), we've heard a lot about you."

"Y-You have?" I manage, still a little shaken after my encounter with the Terrible Two, surprised that they've heard about me at all: David doesn't seem like the type to share his feelings, seeing as he's barely told me anything about himself anyway.

"Oh yeah, we've heard all sorts." Marko butts in again, lifting an eyebrow at me as I feel my eyes widen.

"Yeah, David won't shut up about you." Paul chimes in, smirking at the platinum blonde behind me, who quickly tells him to shut up, though using much more colourful language to convey his point.

"L-like what?" Internally, I curse myself for stuttering again, knowing it's not helping my case at all.

Paul goes to respond, a smirk already pasted onto his face, only to be cut off by Dwayne.

"Nothing bad, don't worry." He confirms, looking over my head at David, who appears to send his friend a grateful glance, his icy blue eyes clouded with annoyance at the other two.

"Except that you're a bit quiet which I now see is totally true." Paul butts in again, chuckling and reaching over to tilt my head his way with one finger, admiring the deep red tinge of my cheeks, "You don't have to be. In fact, we know the perfect way to get you more...vocal."

At the insinuation behind his words, I flinch away from him, looking down as Marko and Paul erupt into fits of laughter, the two of them high-fiving each other triumphantly. A sharp crack and a grunt of pain informs me that Dwayne has once again delivered a whack around the back of each of their heads.

"Just shut up, will you? Show some respect." Dwayne scolds them, brow furrowed in irritation.

"Come on, (Y/n), let's go get some food." David finally says, having stayed quiet almost the entire time, except for the noises of anger that he let out every now and then, body becoming tenser and tenser behind me.

"Ok, sure." I agree, going to turn away from the others with a thankful smile at Dwayne, who seems the most controlled of all of them.

"Enjoy your bite to eat! Make sure you get something you can really sink your fangs into!" Marko calls after us, his laughter cut short by a screech of pain, Dwayne having finally stepped in, dragging the two troublemakers off by their ears. Beside me, David visibly stiffens, eyes closing momentarily, though I could've sworn I saw them flash yellow a second ago, the platinum blonde doing his best to remain calm as he directs me someplace else, clearly eager to get away from the others.

"I'm sorry, (Y/n), I wanted you to meet my friends tonight, but I didn't realise they'd behave so badly around you, though I guess I really should've seen it coming." David apologises, taking my hand in his as we walk, giving me a guilty look, "They're good friends when they're not being so inappropriate."

"It's fine, though I think they'll take some getting used to." I reassure him, squeezing his hand gently.

"I guess. That doesn't excuse their behaviour, though." He responds, frowning again, "I'm sorry, I should've warned you."

"About them being so physical, maybe, but not about them being typical friends. I'm sure I'll come to like them in time." I say to him, carefully coming to a halt beside the rear of one of the food stalls lining the Boardwalk, having figured something out, "That's what you were nervous about, wasn't it?"

"Hm? I wasn't nervous." David scoffs, smirking at me.

"You were! You were worried about how I'd react to your friends, weren't you?" I prompt him, crossing my arms over my chest with an unusual confidence I don't often feel.

"Of course I wasn't!" The blonde goes to argue, only to catch sight of my expression, rolling his eyes in defeat, "Fine, I was a bit concerned about how they'd act, and then about what you would think of them, but not a lot!"

"Sure, keep telling yourself that." I tease, squeaking when I suddenly find myself pinned against the wall behind me, his muscular body pressing into mine as he leans in close.

"Say that again, (Y/n)." He growls into my ear, his smooth voice making me shiver in anticipation as his breath fans hotly across my skin.

"Keep telling yourself-" I try to repeat myself, only to let out a quiet gasp of pleasure when he starts kissing at my neck, mouthing at my sweet spot as my hands snake around into his hair, his own gripping my waist, pulling my hips into his.

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" David purrs against my jaw as he licks a stripe up the column of my neck, before he presses his lips against mine, deepening the kiss as soon as I reciprocate, knowing I won't be able to reply now, smirking against my lips in triumph.

What I didn't know (and wouldn't know until much later) is that he had made the boys swear to behave, only to feel a surge of possessiveness come over him when he sees Marko and Paul completely disregard their promises, now feeling the need to make it well known who I belong to, even if that means risking my dignity in public.

[gamerwoo]

Hansol: Badboy

Characters: Hansol x female reader

Genre/warnings: badboy au, smut (riding, lotta praise, cockwarming, unprotected sex), fluff, very very very slight angst kinda, mentions of smoking

Word count: 1,361

Summary: People think they know Hansol, but you -- you really know Hansol.

a/n: I told myself I would focus on this one fic I need to get done but like I can’t get this thought outta my head and I’m just in such a badboy mood lately and idk I just needed soft sex w badboy!vernon ok

People give Hansol Chwe one glance over and they decide he’s bad news. Between his slicked back dirty blonde hair, the ripped t-shirts under leather or denim jackets, and the cheap cigarette always balanced in the corner of his lips that sometimes gets swapped out for a toothpick, you can see why they’d think that. He looks like the bad type of guy that would hang out outside of shitty hole-in-the-wall bars and go looking for trouble. Hell, all of his friends -- the few that he has, anyway -- look like that. His appearance screams trouble; to stay away.

And somehow, you’ve ended up on top of and beneath him more than once, screaming his name.

“Yes, baby,” Hansol praised in an airy, quiet moan, “just like that. Fuck, you ride me so well.”

His warm, calloused hands gripped your hips as he guided them on his own, showing you just how he wanted you to move on his cock. He always let you take control when you wanted it, but he mostly liked having the lead in things. He said it made him feel like he was making you feel good and you weren’t just making yourself feel good with him. But despite liking the control, Hansol had yet to be rough with you. The roughest he got was when his hands would squeeze your flesh hard enough to leave bruises or when his hips would snap into yours enough to have a sharp slap echoing through his run-down apartment. But he never hit you, pulled your hair, or said anything degrading to you. But his appearance would lead others to believe otherwise.

Your hands pressed into his chest harder, nails digging into his skin as he brushed over your sweet spot. He smiled up at you lazily -- but it was still dazzling nonetheless -- when he noticed how you clenched around him.

“Did that feel good, baby girl?” he cooed.

He guided you to move the same way, and you let out a whimper of his name, nodding your head. But your hips seemed to have a mind of their own because you began bouncing much quicker than the pace Hansol had set, eager to reach your high.

He let out a chuckle, holding onto your hips to keep them still, “There’s no rush, baby. We have plenty of time.”

“I know, I just...” you paused to catch your breath that you’d been holding ever since you started getting impatient. “You just make me feel so good.”

His cheeks were already a soft pink, but they deepened in color at your compliment. If you ever told anybody you made Hansol Chwe blush, they’d probably call you a liar.

“You make me feel so good, _____,” he told you, looking up into your eyes as one hand trailed up your body to the side of your neck. He brought you down closer to him to capture your lips in a soft kiss as he started guiding your hips again. Against your lips, he mumbled, “So fucking good.”

You alternated between swiveling your hips and bouncing them, going at the pace Hansol set for you. His hips thrust up to meet your own, his cock brushing against that spot that had your toes curling and stars appearing behind your eyelids. And you knew he knew what he was doing because his hand that had cupped your jaw was now trailing down to your clit and rubbing circles in pace with your hips as he smirked.

“But since you’re my baby girl, I’ll make you cum if you want it so bad,” he promised. His eyes closed as he sucked in a breath, a hint of his smirk still on his face. “Fuck, you always ride me so well. You do everything just right. You want me to fill you up, baby? Huh? Is that why you wanna cum so bad?”

You nodded eagerly, looking down at him with furrowed brows as you desperately tried to chase your high, his hand only resting on your hip now, “Yes, p-please, Sol.”

Hansol snapped his hips up into you with a grunt, pulling a loud moan from your throat. He held your hips in place as he thrust up into you relentlessly, though the words he groaned out were much softer than his actions.

“Do you know how pretty you look taking my cock, baby? God, I wish I could take a picture of you when you ride me. You’re such a pretty girl; wanna see how pretty you’ll look filled with my cum.”

His words were pushing you closer and closer to the edge, and he was very aware of it. Hansol was always acutely aware of everything you liked. When you first got involved with him, you didn’t think he’d be the type to care. He seemed like the type of guy to use you as a fuck toy and leave it at that, but he was very knowing of every little thing about you. Hansol took the time to get to know your body, learn what made you tick, and all the exact spots that had you curling your fingers into his hair or the sheets or the pillows as you cried out his name.

Hansol’s voice was getting breathier and his sentences were broken from grunts and soft moans more and more often. That was how you knew he was getting close, too.

“Such a beautiful girl,” he breathed, chewing on his lip as his brows furrowed. His eyes never left your form, either. “Want you to cum for me, baby girl. Wanna see how pretty you look when you cum on my cock.”

Your orgasm crashed over you, your nails digging into his shoulders as you cried out his name loud enough for his neighbors to hear it over the banging of his bed against the wall that they no doubt were aware of. The way you clenched around his length when you came pushed him over the edge, letting out a deep, throaty moan as his cum filled you in hot spurts. He guided your hips to ride out both of your orgasms until you were whimpering from the sensitivity. Then he guided you to lay down on his chest, wrapping his arms around you as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

“I’m so lucky I have you,” he murmured into your hair.

Hansol also didn’t seem like the type of person to want you to stay after sex. But even after the first time you were with him, he insisted he at least drive you home if you really had to leave. He encouraged you to stay, but was understanding if you didn’t want to or couldn’t. Because he knew how people saw him, and he knew you would see him the same way.

But he wasn’t the person people saw him as.

“How are you the mushiest person I’ve met?” you giggled softly as your fingertips drew random patterns on his side.

Hansol wasn’t the badboy who hung outside shitty hole-in-the-wall bars or who went looking for trouble. He wasn’t the type of guy who got into fights or caused chaos because he was bored or went out of his way to be an asshole. He wasn’t the person anybody thought he was, and he definitely wasn’t the person you assumed he was.

“Because I love you,” he grinned when you moved your head to look up at him.

He was the kind of person who stuck with his misfit friends because all of them were misjudged and they needed to stick together. He was the type of person who had lollipops between his lips more often than cigarettes because you insisted he quit smoking. He was the type of person who cared more about you than he cared about himself, and he showed it every single chance he got and never cared if it ruined whatever dumb reputation people thought he had.

“I love you, too,” you smiled back before leaning down and pressing a sweet kiss to his lips that seemed to now permanently taste like cherry lollipops.

[tahitianmangoes]

The Last Shall Be First and the First Shall Be Last

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Part 4: Clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience

Charles knew that Arthur was difficult at the best of times. And these certainly weren’t the best of times. 

Charles had gone straight to the doctor in Saint Denis; it was early morning by the time they reached the doctor’s office from the mountainside and he pounded on the door until the doctor answered, bleary eyed and rightfully terrified at the sight of Charles, bandana pulled up over his face, hand resting on his gun holster.

“He needs help.” Charles said, voice a low growl, prepared to use force if necessary, not usually his style but this was different. This was important. It was everything. 

The doctor swallowed but dared not argue with Charles. Perhaps against his better judgement, he let Charles inside and Charles lay Arthur in the doctor’s chair. His heart was still in his mouth. The whole ride down from the mountainside, past Annesburg and Van Horn where Charles didn’t stop because he was worried Pinkertons would be waiting for them and through the swamps to Saint Denis, Charles had been preparing himself for the worst. 

The doctor patched up the stab wound, wise to not ask questions. Not many men were strong enough to survive being stabbed like that, the puncture almost got his liver. Arthur was a fighter. “You need to keep it clean to stop infection,” he told Charles. “Change the dressing once a day. He also has pneumonia. He needs to be kept warm and needs to rest. And he needs to stop smoking.” “Will he recover?” “He should respond well though I don’t think that cough is going anywhere fast.”

Charles sighed in relief. He thanked the doctor and paid him triple in return for his silence. 

Arthur woke up that night in a dirty room above a saloon that Charles had managed to get for them until he found something better. It had a fireplace so Charles could keep Arthur warm there and that was the best he could do. Arthur didn’t remember how he had gotten there. Arthur didn’t remember the doctor, still delirious from pain. He reached down confused and touched where he was now bandaged. He didn’t remember calling out or thrashing in agony, having to be held down by Charles while the doctor stitched him up.

“You’re ok,” Charles said to him gently but Arthur’s eyes were unfocussed, he wheezed as he tried to move, trying to sit in the small bed but Charles laid him down. “Take it easy. You need to rest, ok?” Not even sure if Arthur could hear him. 

Hesitantly, Charles touched Arthur’s face. He was hot beneath Charles’s fingertips from fever though he shivered so. He’d never touched Arthur like this, maybe their fingers had brushed when handing something over to one and other, maybe one had laid a hand on the other’s shoulder in a bid of comfort of brotherly love but this felt so tender now. 

Arthur sighed and mumbled something that Charles didn’t understand. Charles helped Arthur through his fever, soothing him and applying a cold compress to him. Charles had never allowed himself to get close to someone like this, not in a long time. This feeling of utter dread that he would lose Arthur was unprecedented and he hated it. He had given up everything to come here, to save Arthur and he didn’t understand why. Love? He almost forgot what that felt like.

“Where are we?” Arthur croaked the next time he awoke and Charles made sure he drank water. “We’re safe here.” Charles replied. Arthur groaned and slipped back into a troubled and pained sleep. Charles remained by his side. He stayed sitting there almost motionless, frozen to the spot.

When Charles was young, he had been playing with his father’s hunting knife and had accidentally cut his hand. It wasn’t a deep cut by any means but it had hurt so bad that Charles had cried out. His father scolded him, of course, not only for his carelessness but at the tears that rolled down his face.  “You better stop that cryin’, boy.” He’d snapped. “It hurts, pa!” Charles had replied. “I know it do,” his father replied. “But you ain’t no girl. If it hurt, you focus real hard on somethin’ else. Think ‘bout that an’ nothin’ else til the pain go away.”

Charles focussed on the pressed flower he brought back from Beaver Hollow.  Charles focussed in the flower until his eyes blurred and he saw double. The dread didn’t leave him, it never did.

When pride comes, then comes disgrace, but with humility comes wisdom. One’s pride will bring him low, but he who is lowly in spirit will obtain honour. 

“Shoulda left me to die,” Arthur moaned once the fever was past its worst. The pain was intense and when Charles cleaned and redressed the wound Arthur would hiss and whimper, neck flushed with embarrassment, not used to being vulnerable in front of anyone like this. The wound tore down his right flank, an angry red streak of lightning. Branded by Micah Bell for life. But at least he had escaped with his life; Charles had made sure of it. 

Charles wasn’t used to Arthur being vulnerable or weak either. Arthur had always seemed strong, even when he wasn’t. But now he lay in bed, skin paler than white, eyes bloodshot, he could hear his chest rattling from across the room. 

Arthur was as stubborn as a mule. Charles wasn’t the best cook but he did what he could with what he had. It took a couple of tries for Arthur to give in to Charles and admit that he was too weak to feed himself. He couldn’t lift his arm, his shoulder stiff from the gunshot wound inflicted by the O’Driscolls a couple of months ago married with the stab wound made movement unbearable. When he sat up carefully as Charles fed him, Charles saw him wince and his hands shake. 

“Let me help you,” Charles had said one night as Arthur struggled to lift the spoon to his mouth to eat the stew Charles had made. “I ain’t an invalid, Charles,” Arthur replied snappily. “Let me, please.” Charles insisted, taking the spoon from Arthur. “I don’t want your pity, Charles! If I wanted a nurse, I’d have hired one! I don’t need you fussin’. I can take care of myself.” “It certainly looks that way,” Charles scoffed. “Listen, if I was the one lyin’ here, you’d do the same and you wouldn’t let me be an ass about it.” Arthur scowled. “If it ain’t the pneumonia, it’s your damn pride that’ll kill you.”  “I don’t need no help.” “Fine.” Charles said coldly and set the stew down. He got to his feet and left the room.

Arthur watched the door, hoping he’d come back but he didn’t. 

When the gang had gone to Guarma, Charles had thought he’d lost Arthur forever. That feeling of dead washed over him, day after day, wave after wave until Arthur showed up at Lakay looking worse than dead. That same dread resurfaced when he told Arthur to go back to back to Beaver Hollow and help the others, despite him wanting Arthur to stay with him, to maybe even go to to Canada with the Waipiti and start anew together.  Charles sat by the Lannahechee River until the sun rose and shimmered in its murky waters. He felt that dread now but he’d given them another chance. Not everyone got a second chance.

It was morning when Charles returned. Arthur was sitting up still, as if he had waited for him. 

“I… I’m sorry, Charles.” Arthur said quietly. “I jus’… I ain’t used to bein’ like this.” He gestured to the bed. “I know.” Charles replied, sighing and sitting down by Arthur’s bed. The stew had gone cold and uneaten. Charles noticed the spoon on the floor; Arthur must have dropped it.  Arthur followed Charles’s gaze and looked away quickly in embarrassment. “You shoulda gone with Rains Fall an’ the others.” He muttered, “I don’t know why you’re wastin’ your time on an old man like me.”

Charles chewed the inside of his lip. His eyes rested on the pressed flower. The dread subsided as he remembered the first time they had been alone together, in Colter. “How’s your hand?” Arthur’s voice had been soft and he had touched him so lightly yet Charles had felt sparks. The world felt different but he couldn’t explain how. He just knew that whenever he saw Arthur ride away from camp he felt a heavy sadness that this would be the last time.

“You’re a  cantankerous asshole sometimes.” Charles said abruptly. “You’re brash and you’re loud and insensitive… And I care about you a lot, Arthur Morgan.”

A potent silence descended over the pair of them while Charles stared at the flower, feeling suddenly hot and uncomfortable speaking so frankly.

Arthur swallowed. “I… I didn’t realise…” Charles permitted himself to laugh softly, “I know.” “Charles… I…” Charles looked up at Arthur now, the man he had cared about more than anyone else he had ever met, who he had been prepared to throw everything away for and indeed had done.  He knew Arthur wasn’t a man of words and any words he did say weren’t all that eloquent. But what he said was enough.

“I care about you, too.”

[98prilla]

Here There Be Dragons

AO3

Virgil will do anything to protect his siblings. Roman hunts a dragon. Somehow things work out.

...

He’s grounded. His wings are splayed on the ground on either side of him, deep tears through the thin membranes, slowly oozing blood. They couldn’t catch the air in this state, he’d already injured himself more trying, ripping the tears longer as they got caught on tree branches, splinters of wood stuck in the wounds. His tough scales prevented the most grievous blows from striking home, but he has a deep, painful gash across his underbelly, the ground beneath him wet with blood, and he’s finding it harder to breathe.

 It doesn’t matter. The humans had gotten too close to the nest, he had to lure them away, he had to keep them from the hatchlings, he wouldn’t let the humans take them, too. He managed to lead them away, get their attention, without actually hurting any of them, because despite their violent intent, he didn’t want to cause any harm. He didn’t want to prove them right.

 He’d roared, and taken off, circling once before flying away, slowly, keeping low enough they could follow, letting their arrows find their marks, letting the humans think the chase was worth it, leading them far enough away they couldn’t find their way back, before he managed to use his breath power to cloak himself and escape, before crashing down in this patch of woods.

 “Stay low, stay in the shadows, stay quiet.” He’d hissed at the younglings, before tearing out of the cave, praying for once they listened to him.

 His head drops to the ground, a soft snort escaping his nose. His neck is heavy, and everything hurts. Even if the tears heal without infection, they won’t close up. He’ll never fly again. How is he going to hunt, how is he going to take care of the hatchlings? He has to raise them, he can’t let them down now.

 With a groan and a hiss, he forces himself to his feet, ignoring the crimson staining his violet scales, stretching his wings with a pained growl, almost falling back down at the agony piercing his chest. He shakes it off, forcing his wings to work, forcing them to flap, before his vision blacks out and with a thump, he falls back to the ground, vision spotty.

 “Virgil?” His head whips up, that small, quiet voice breaking him out of the darkness swarming his mind.

 “Patton. Go home.” He growls, trying to hide his wheezing breaths, to mask the pain with worry.

“you’re hurt.” The young dragon says, as his head thumps back to the ground, his limbs weak and trembling as he draws his wings in close, trying to hide the worst of the damage, trying not to hiss at the movement, sure one or more of the bones are broken.

 “I’ll be fine, Pat. Just… just need a second, ok? Just go home and I’ll meet you there.” He mumbles, unable to help the exhaustion slipping into his voice. He lets out a low rumble as he feels Patton nuzzle against him, the small one barely the size of his cheek. He leans into the touch and cracks open his eye, fixing it on the small dragon.

 “are… are you gonna die?” His breath catches and he holds back a sob.

 “go home.” He says instead. “Logan’s smart, he can find a new hideout for the two of you. Stick together, okay? It’s more dangerous on your own.” Patton lets out a soft whimper, pressing closer.

 “no. no, I won’t leave you! You’ve gotta… you’ve gotta get better, you’ve gotta come home, Vee!” His tail curls around Patton, surrounding the hatchling in warmth, securing him in his hold. Patton is so grown up, it’s easy to forget sometimes just how small he really is, how young, barely past a toddler.

 “I’m sorry, baby blue-“ He stops as he hears a noise, the rustle of leaves, footsteps. He curls his tail tighter around Patton, stretching out a wing to cover him, breath heaving as he forces his head off the ground, a low growl building in his throat. It grows deeper as a human steps through the woods.

 “Aha! I have cornered you at last, foul beast! Prepare to face my wrath!” The human is dressed in light white leather armor, enchantment radiating off of it, a red sash across his chest, the color of the kingdom. His sword is drawn, a shining, golden thing, infused with sun magic, his eyes alight with burning intent, his smile sharp and wicked. He growls deeper, unable to summon his breath power. He curls his tail tighter, begging Patton to stay hidden, stay quiet.

 “The others gave up and went home, but not I! I, valiant Prince Roman, shall slay the mighty dragon and prove myself to be the hero once and for all. Prepare for your demise!” The human advances, sword flashing, and he lets out a long breath, head dropping once more to the ground, eyes slipping closed in surrender. He won’t kill this human, no matter how foolish he is. He won’t kill any human. He’s on his last leg anyway, might as well let this prince have his glory.

 His eyes shoot open as he feels Patton wriggling, but he doesn’t have the strength to stop him, as he shoots out from under his wing, darting in front of his snout, spine spikes raised, wings flared wide, tiny growl piercing the air. He’s so small. Even compared to the human, he’s only the size of a large dog, he’s so small.

 “Pat… please…” his voice is a hoarse whisper, his chest heavy, breaths heaving, and he desperately drags himself forwards across the ground, clawing his way a few inches forwards, just enough to grab Patton by the scruff and gently toss the dragonlet behind him, hissing as he lands on his wing and slides down to the ground. Immediately, Patton returns, growl low, defending him. He’s too weak to move again, hot tears escaping his eyes.

 He feels a shadow and looks up, heart plummeting at the flash of emerald green scales, another small dragon clumsily crashing out of the air, landing in a tangle atop Patton, the two of them rolling across the ground. Not both of them, he couldn’t lose both of them. Logan is bigger, a few years older, closer to the size of a large pony. He can get Patton out of here, he has to, because he knows Patton will not leave him, and he will not let him be harmed.

 He takes a deep breath, shoving his pain aside, shoving his fear aside, shoving everything else except the burning, breaking love in his heart aside, because he will not lose the younglings.

 His roar shakes the earth, causes both hatchlings to stop their squabbling and freeze, a brief look of shock flashing across the human’s face as he lurches to his feet, inky smoke leaking from his mouth, torn and broken wings flaring wide, tail lashing and teeth bared as he steps in front of the boys, head held high, eyes glaring down at the human, belly cold where the gash bites into him, blood seeping out, but right now, it doesn’t matter.

 “Logan. Take Patton. And GO!” He roars, intimidating enough Logan shakes, instantly complying, grabbing the smaller dragonlet by the scruff and dragging him off, clumsily taking to the air, thrown off by the other’s weight, Patton’s cries and pleas breaking his heart, sending pangs through his chest, because they are the last thing he will ever hear of the youngest, and it burns in his blood.

 He watches the human carefully, ready to spring at any sign of pursuit, knowing the humans like to kill the younger ones first, since they’re defenseless, trying to keep the dragons from growing large enough to be a threat, never mind them being babies, children, innocent. But the human doesn’t move, watching them disappear along the tree line, a strange look of understanding flashing across his face as he looks back up at Virgil, who despite himself is shaking, newfound strength lagging. The human takes a step forwards, and he growls, clawing the ground in warning.

 “you were protecting them. That’s why you let us get close to you so easily. You were keeping us away. You were keeping them safe.” There’s something a little awed, something a little soft, in the human’s voice, that almost makes him lay his head back down. “The others said it was just luck, but I thought it was strange. You kept looking back, as if to make sure we were coming. You didn’t fly out of range of the arrows. You… you didn’t hurt us.” The human whispers, face paling, and he can’t help it anymore as he lays his head back down, wings drooping to the ground. He doesn’t even tuck his legs back under him, his belly is exposed, and the human gasps, seeing the large wound across his underside for the first time. He hurts, numbingly, achingly, hurts.

 “I… I’m going to fix this. I promise, I’m going to get you home to your family.” He flinches at the touch against his nose, the hand against his scales, but the human doesn’t do anything, simply strokes them gently, and he finds himself letting out the soft rumble that soothes the hatchlings, that equates to a purr, feeling cold once the human pulls away. He lets out a soft, pleading whine as he hears footsteps retreating. He doesn’t want to die alone, he doesn’t want to die in the cold, even if it’s a human, at least it’s someone. He lets out a long breath, then his senses fade into nothing.

…

He awakens to a burning, all consuming, blazing fire that seems to consume him from the inside out. He thrashes, roaring, tail lashing the ground, and he distantly hears human cries. Snarling, he tries to move, tries to stand, but his legs don’t even twitch, and he can’t seem to open his eyes, as another wave of breathtaking, exquisite pain wracks his body, sending him shaking from tail to snout.

 “Hey hey hey, it’s ok, it’s ok. It’s me. I know it hurts, I’m sorry, but it’s the only way to heal you, he has to do it all at once, there’s too much damage to do it any other way.” He doesn’t know why he relaxes at that voice. It’s the human, who, hours earlier, was intent on killing him, but he doesn’t feel threatening. He feels… calming. Soothing, as he once again strokes the scales against his snout, he lets himself stop fighting.

 “He’s almost finished. That was the worst part, I promise. He’s working on your wings now, ok? That should hurt less.” The human, Roman, murmurs against him, and he lets out a sigh, the pressure that had been building in his lungs fading, breathing easy for the first time in nearly twelve hours. His eyes slowly drift open, finding the blurry shape of Roman before him, a small, nervously relieved smile on his face.

 “hey there, lightning bolt.” He merely huffs, resettling himself on the ground, tucking his legs underneath him, curling his tail around him, feeling the tingle of magic against his wings, which he leaves stretched out across the ground, though the ache is gone from them.

 “Finished! Now, are you ready to apologize, Roman?” He feels the tingle stop, and tucks his wings in against his sides, giving himself a small shake from head to toe, settling his spine spikes, attention turning to the human coming around his left side, hands on his hips, looking for all the world like an exact copy of Roman, except his outfit was black where roman’s was white, and a curling moustache sat atop his lip, his hair longer and wilder. He smelled like the woods, like wild magic, and he tilted his head in confusion. “Y’know, if he’d told me what he was planning, I woulda slapped him so hard his head fell off. Between you and me, my brother here is a bit of a dumbass.” He snorts at that, and at Roman’s sound of protest, the identical one grinning. “Prince Remus, the one who actually understands forest lore, at your service!” Remus bows, Roman grumbling behind him. Virgil pulls back slightly as Remus comes closer, stifling the low growl building in his throat at the proximity.

 “Dragons are magic. Pure, undiluted, magic. They are guardians of the natural world, protectors of their forests and lands, defenders of magical creatures, loyal to the death. They are precious and strong and beautiful and highly emotionally empathetic. They should be protected. Not hunted for trophy or sport. People who want their magic hunt them, for their scales, their horns, their claws. And idiots hunt them to prove themselves brave and strong.” Remus glares at Roman on the last few words, stilling suddenly as he feels scales pressed against his hand. He turns his head, awestruck, the dragon pressing it’s snout against his palm, deep eyes staring into his soul, before he huffs, lowering his head back to the ground.

 “you’re a lot smarter than your twin.” His voice is tired and broken, phantom pain still lingering in his limbs. Remus’s eyes light up, and Roman gapes, spluttering, before piecing his mind back together.

 “You can speak? Why didn’t you say anything?!”

 “you wouldn’t have listened. I wasn’t about to tell you anything, anyway. Nothing that would lead you to them, nothing you could use.” His anxiety spikes saying that much, just thinking of the younglings, curled up in some cave, cold and scared, Patton crying, Logan trying to be brave and grown up, when he was little more than a baby himself.

 “you have hatchlings. He has hatchlings. And you were going to kill him!? What the ever loving HELL is wrong with you, Roman!? Dragons are practically extinct because of humans like YOU-” Remus jabs his finger against Roman’s chest, glaring at him “And you were going to orphan HATCHLINGS?” Remus hisses, shaking with fury.

 “I didn’t know! I… that’s when I came to get you. When I saw them. I just… I needed to make sure he got home to them. I… I made a grave and terrible error.” Remus softens slightly at that.

 “They’re already orphaned.” He mumbles tiredly, eyes slipping closed despite himself, not sure why he’s saying what he’s saying. “Had to hatch Patton m’self. Was terrified every moment, sure I was doing something wrong, but I couldn’t… I couldn’t lose the egg.”

 He remembers that fear vividly. Still feels it every moment, every time he looks at Patton, so small, even for his age, Patton, he feels that fear. Logan at least is old enough to help keep an eye on the ever curious dragonlet, but Patton still manages to wander off chasing butterflies, sniffing flowers, chirping back and forth with birds. He loves him, but it’s exhausting and exasperating.

 As hatching his egg had been. He’d rarely left it in the four months it took to grow and incubate, and he wouldn’t have left it at all, but he still needed to take care of Logan, as well. The young dragon was smart, cunning, could easily catch small prey, but nothing large enough to actually keep himself fed, despite his claims otherwise. But Logan was careful, gentle, curling his entire body around the egg whenever Virgil had to leave to hunt, talking to it endlessly the entire time, about anything and everything. It was probably better that he had to hunt for Logan, if he had been alone he wouldn’t have eaten anything for the full four months.

 And when he had felt the egg wobbling, felt it moving against his stomach, he and Logan had watched with bated breath, waiting for the shell to crack, aching to help but knowing that would only cause the dragonlet harm, both letting out deep breaths as Patton finally cracked through the shell, tumbling out of it with a startled chirp, head tilted forty five degrees as he looked up at Virgil.

 “you did it. We… we did it…” Logan’s voice was barely a whisper, but instantly, the hatchling’s head whipped around, focusing on him with brightly aware eyes, letting out a happy gurgle and tripping over his own feet as he struggled to stand, tumbling over to Logan. He nuzzled against Logan’s leg with a tiny purr that shook his whole body, tail waving happily as Virgil chuckled.

 “Looks like he remembers you.” Logan’s eyes are watery as he laughs, leaning down to lick the hatchling clean, smiling as the baby instantly coos, flopping to the floor and rolling over, legs in the air as he churred happily.

 “I wish she were here. To see him.” He sighed, leaning down and nuzzling Logan.

 “I know. I do too. But we have him, to remember her by. And we have each other. And I will never let anything hurt the two of you.” He smiled as the hatchling flipped back over to his feet, looking up at him with wide eyes, before yawning so hard he fell over. Virgil snorted, leaning down and licking the hatchling, who squeaked delightedly. “Let’s get you to sleep, baby blue. You’ve had a long day.” He murmured, smiling as the tiny thing tottled over to his side, curling up against his warm belly, yawning. He turned to Logan, tilting his head. “You too, Logan.” Logan huffed, but didn’t argue, curling up around the baby, who curled tight against Logan, humming happily, as Virgil curled his tail around the two of them, resting his own head on his paws, draping a wing over the both of them.

 He hasn’t had a moment of peace since, and wouldn’t have it any other way.

…

 He wakes slowly, letting out a deep breath, yawning and stretching his wings before cracking open his eyes. He is momentarily confused as to where he is, because this isn’t the cave, and his panic spikes because where are the younglings?! He lurches to his feet, tail lashing, heart pounding.

 “Hey, hey, hey, easy there, it’s ok. It’s ok. You just fell asleep. Healing takes a lot out of you, especially healing that much all at once.” Roman. He calms slightly, before he hears a laugh, and his head whips around as Patton tumbles through the underbrush, Remus emerging behind him, a grin on his face as he scoops up the youngest, holding him above his head.

 “Caught you!” Remus trills, Patton flapping his wings happily as Remus throws him in the air, before catching him again, tickling his belly before Patton manages to squirm away, running circles around Remus until the human falls over, dizzy from trying to follow the dragonlet, who pounces on his chest.

 “Caught you!” Patton echoes, playfully nipping at Remus’s nose, before looking up, eyes widening and freezing as he met Virgil’s eyes.

 “virgil?” Patton asks, voice so soft and small and afraid, and it breaks him further.

 “I’m here, baby blue.” He rumbles, lowering his snout as Patton charges to him, nearly tumbling over his own feet as he collides against Virgil, rubbing his whole body against the large dragons cheek, vibrating with the force of his purrs, the force of his sobs as he stands on his hind legs, his front paws resting atop Virgil’s snout, his head pressed against it so he could feel Virgil’s large, deep, inhales and exhales.

 “I was s-so scared. I th-thought you w-were gone!” His heart cracks further, and he closes what little space there is between him and Patton, closing his eyes, simply breathing in the scent of his tiny baby boy, his little paws so warm against his scales, and he feels his own tears falling, because he never wanted Patton to know that pain, that loss.

 He knows well enough how much it hurts. He and Logan both, though Logan hadn’t seen the body. He hadn’t let him come with, when he searched for their mother. He didn’t even get a good look himself, just a mangled, mutilated body on the ground, stripped of scales, and he flew away.

 It was one of the only times he’d ever seen Logan cry. Patton had still been an egg. He didn’t know their mother, his mother, he didn’t know what was gone, Patton was the only thing that had kept the both of them going, caring for the egg, giving all their hearts to the youngest, all the love he could ever need, and Patton’s unconditional faith and love in them helped them heal.

 “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, pat. I love you. I love you so much, I…” He breaks off, unable to continue past the tears filling him, the force of the relief and love swelling through him, feeling Patton trembling against him. “I’m sorry. But I’d do it again. I’ll do it every time, Patton, I will give up my life if it keeps you safe. I will make that choice every time.” He feels Patton let out a shaky sob as he steps back, looking up at him once more, those eyes so vulnerable.

 “I know.” He huffs, leaning down and picking up Patton by the scruff, gently turning his neck and placing the dragonlet on his back, right at the base of his neck, between the start of his wings. Instantly, Patton curls around his spine spike to keep his balance, kneading his paws against his scales. He lets out a low rumble, one so deep and quiet it doesn’t even make a noise, just vibrates his chest, chuckling as Patton yawns, struggling to keep his eyes open. “virg? You’re not… not gonna leave, right?”

 “No. not if I can help it, Patton, I promise.” He nuzzles Patton once, huffing against his back, Patton already asleep as he pulled away. He looks up, sensing eyes on him, Logan looking at him from a few feet away, completely unreadable.

 “Logan-“

 “I’m glad that you will be ok. I am going hunting.” Then he is gone through the underbrush. His eyes track the movement through the trees, closing his eyes against the pain, his own exhaustion cresting over him. Despite everything, he is still tired, he has the feeling he didn’t really sleep all that well, drifting in and out of consciousness, plagued by his wounds through the night, half formed nightmares lurking at the corners of his awareness.

 He feels a gentle touch against his side, and opens his eyes, looking down at Roman, who was looking up at him with soft concern, clearly trying to decide whether saying something would be overstepping or not.

 “he’s angry. More than that, he’s scared. I… can’t blame him. I meant it. I would choose them over me, every time, I would walk willingly to my death if it kept them safe, he should be terrified, because one of these days I’m going to get caught by a human that doesn’t show the mercy you have, one of these days I’m going to go out hunting and just not come back. One day he will find me, like I-“ He breaks off, lowering his head to the ground. “like I found her.”

 “your mother.” Remus states, having been silently watching everything, giving the dragon his space, only approaching and sitting beside him now that he had settled.

 “It’s harder to hide, the bigger you get. I’m not even halfway grown, and she was a full adult. With two younglings and another on the way. She just… didn’t come back. So I went looking. Don’t know exactly how they got her, but they did. By the time I found her they were gone, and she…. There wasn’t much left of her. They took everything, even her dignity. Patton wasn’t even hatched yet, he didn’t… lose anything. We make sure of that. He’s never thought he’s missing anything. He’s my brother, as much as he’s my baby. And Logan… he had to grow up. I forget, sometimes, that he’s just a kid. If he lost me too… he will, eventually, he just didn’t think it would be this soon. I didn’t think it would be this soon.”

 “I’m sorry. I’m so, so, sorry. I know better. I should never have hunted you, I should never have thought myself above you, I should never have been so stupidly arrogant.” He nods at Roman’s apology.

 “how did you find them?” He asks, eyes flicking up, to where Patton sleeps on his back, though he can’t see him from here, he can feel him, his steady breaths and heartbeat against his scales soothing him.

 “They came back. Were pretty stealthy about it too. They came out of the bushes scaring the hell outta me, once they realized Roman was standing guard to protect you and I was working on helping.” He sighs. He hadn’t really expected them to stay away, but he wishes they had, wishes he could count on Logan to keep Patton away when this happens again. Happens worse.

…

He wakes to warmth.

 Blinking his eyes open, he sees Logan, pressing his head against his, curling his tail around his snout.

 “I’m sorry.”

 “it’s all right, Emerald. I know.” He murmurs, noting it is dark out, now.

 “I’m not ready. I’m not ready to take care of him by myself, I’m not ready for you to leave, I’m not… I can’t… please. I can’t lose you too, I can’t…” Logan’s voice breaks, and Virgil rumbles, drawing him close to his side, wrapping his tail around him and tucking his head against Logan’s.

 “I know. I know, Lo. I’m sorry I scared you. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m not sorry for what I did. And I can’t promise that it won’t happen again.”

 “I heard you. I know. it just… it hurts. I can’t… I can’t stop seeing you, like that. There was so m-much blood-“

 “Shh, hush, baby. I’m ok. We’re ok. Just focus on that, all right? Just… just focus on me.” He feels Logan take a deep, shaking breath, leaning into him more, relaxing with each inhale and exhale, until he slips asleep, Virgil following not long after.

…

Roman and Remus look at each other. They both are leaning against a tree nearby, giving the dragons space, but staying close, keeping watch, just in case someone else stumbles across them in the woods.

 “we have to do something, Ree.” Roman breaks the heavy silence, running a hand through his hair, eyes roaming over the small, incredible family of dragons.

 “I know. But they won’t want to live in a human settlement, Ro. They wouldn’t thrive there. They’re wild creatures, they need the woods. And I won’t make them do anything, won’t make them go anywhere.”

 “I wouldn’t ask you to. I’ve hurt them enough. I’m not suggesting the castle. But… but what about the Royal Forest? I know it’s off limits, and so wild no one goes there anyway, or risk facing your wrath.” Remus exhales lowly, nodding after a moment.

 “that could work. There’s certainly enough space. They could avoid us entirely, if they never want to see us again.” Remus muses, and Roman nods.

 “I think he’ll say yes. Maybe not at first, but for them, he will.”

 “I think you’re right. We’ll ask in the morning. They all need their sleep.” He looks back over at the three dragons, curled tight around each other, a thoughtful crease to his eyes.

 He hopes Virgil will let them help. He hopes he gets to spend more time with them, get to know them, because they are truly amazing.

 But above all he will make sure no one hurts them again.