#this bullshit is coming from both camps too

[harry-sussex]

A group of grown adults spent so much time cyberbullying a woman recovering from major surgery on Mother’s Day that she actually had to defend herself and her amateur hobbies… I hope you’re happy with yourselves. You know it’s gone too far when Kate, who is made of absolute steel and never lets anything get to her, feels the need to defend herself against the vitriol. That statement sounds so defeated. It was MOTHER’S DAY, people! And you spent all this time harassing a MOTHER OF THREE on MOTHER’S DAY about a picture of HERSELF and her CHILDREN taken by her husband who NEVER TAKES PICTURES? Disgusting. And just wait until any of the kids’ birthdays, or their anniversary, or Father’s Day, or any milestones - we’ll get one picture, if that, because now they have all the more reason to protect their family from the internet - and people will complain anyway! “Why don’t we get pics? Why are they so private? What do they have to hide? They’re not preparing their kids enough for royal life! They’re so bad at PR! Kensington Palace, you’ve really screwed up this time!” You KNOW why! This poor woman really made one hand too blurry and shifted a stair and this is what it’s come to? Absolutely disgusting. She must have been so sad if she was willing to make a statement - like this photo in particular really struck a sensitive nerve. All while recovering from surgery, mind you. My poor girl. I hope she’s okay, and that the kids and William are okay, and that they’re together and letting it all roll off their shoulders, and that each and every one of you cyberbullied her and treated her poorly because of the picture loses sleep tonight.

[sinswithpleasure]

Unprofessional Conduct

"Oh, come on, Mr Jang..." 

Sullyoon twirls her hair around her finger, a coy pout on her face. Smug superiority shines in her eyes—there is nowhere to run with the school being only so big. 

You’re cursing at how good of a timing Sullyoon’s picked—it’s the track team camp during the holidays, which means that only you and the team are on campus. She’d planned to corner you, and now you’re trapped right where she wants you.

"It's not the first time you've ogled these legs. Both of us know that." The Korean girl turns to you, putting one leg in front of the other, giggling when you fail to resist looking down at the creamy skin of her thighs, down to the knee-high socks that she wears. “You don't have to be shy about it at all, Mr Jang. I'm letting you look."

You take a step back when Sullyoon takes a step down the stairs. You shouldn't, you can't—her clubmates are just around the corner in the classroom, and this is inappropr—!

"Bullshit, Mr Jang.” Sullyoon’s words slap you across the face. “You don’t even look any bit convinced with your own excuses."

—when did she have you pinned against the wall, oh sh—

"—That's right, you've been hard the entire time, Mr Jang."

You rush to muffle the moan that escapes from the gaps between your fingers when Sullyoon cups your bulge, her palm gently rubbing against the cloth of your pants, right across the sensitive underside—

"Face it, you want me." Sullyoon presses up against you, her soft breasts right against your chest as she eyes your lips, eyes half-lidded, confident smirk across her face. “You want me so bad."

"No, I—!"

“You're not subtle at all, Mr Jang. Eyes always trained on our legs, our asses, our breasts when we're training. So many of us have noticed that during track sessions, you know, that you want us so bad, hell, want me so bad. Haewon-unnie always tells me about how you perv on Jiheon-unnie in class, peering down her uniform when you walk by her desk or when she's asking questions at yours. She also tells me you've also tried that more than once with Yujin-unnie. And that you’re always trying to peek up my skirt when I’m sitting in front during class, or staring at my ass when we’re training.”

The panic across your face has Sullyoon laughing. It's an admission—you can't hide it, and the mere mention of her seniors has you getting harder. Both Yujin and Jiheon are your type—slender, petite, with long legs that go all the way to Sunday—and you could apply all of these descriptors to Sullyoon as well. You can't help but stare dumbly at your student as she levels all of her knowledge of your perverseness at you. 

“Sullyoon, this is—no, I—!” 

"Shh…”

It barely takes Sullyoon ten seconds to unbuckle your belt and unzip your pants. You're moaning again when she reaches beneath your boxers to fish your hard cock out, fisting the length as she presses it against your abdomen. 

"Oh, you're so wet, Mr Jang. So much precum..." You whimper when your student runs a thumb over the leaking slit. Strings of it cling to her thumb and your cock when she lets go, then between her fingers as she spreads it across the pads of her index finger and thumb. "All for me, too..."

You're once again stunned into silence with her nonchalance, as if she wasn’t playing with her teacher’s precum. She looks at you as she studies your arousal on her fingers, the smirk never leaving her lips. 

Sullyoon cleans your precum against her skirt, and she takes a step back, eyes never leaving yours. "Don't go anywhere, Mr Jang. Keep your perverted eyes on me, because you'll really like this."

Your hungry eyes widen when Sullyoon grabs the hem of her cropped jersey and pulls it over her head. She drops the jersey on the floor, and her hands reach for the band of her sports bra now, slowly tugging it up to reveal the flesh underneath, the soft curve slowly being unveiled before your eyes, then all at once when her breasts fall out of her bra, the hem resting above the soft curves of her chest. 

"Here, Mr Jang, my breasts, bared for you."

Sullyoon doesn't let you admire them for long—she's already bending over, hands beneath her skirt. You’re tracking her every motion, even when they're hidden by her body or by her skirt, and you curse when a bundle of cloth drops down to pool at her ankles before she steps out of it.

"My panties are off, Mr Jang. I'm naked now. All for you.”

Sullyoon raises the cloth of her skirt, pulling it upward. She reveals all of herself to you right there in the school stairwell. Instantly, you're learning much more about her: first of all, Sullyoon shaves, except for a thin strip of hair right above her pussy; second, she’s a messy girl that drips so much slick down her thighs that it stains her socks and even drips down onto the floor beneath her; and finally, your dreams have come true—to be able to see Sullyoon’s fat pussy right in front of your eyes, exposed fully without clothing. You’ve spent many evenings after training sessions masturbating to the image of your student’s cameltoe in her shorts, and now you’re feasting your eyes on it in the flesh, your suspicions confirmed, cock twitching every time you lock your eyes back between her slick thighs.

"Are you just going to stare, Mr Jang? I'm naked for you, like I said, and I'm so wet that I'm dripping all over the floor already. My panties are ruined, and they have been ruined since we started talking."

The Korean girl steps forward again while you remain frozen. This time, she grabs your cock as she presses herself against you once more, her whine echoing with your groan when she rubs it against her drenched pussy. Sullyoon feels so warm against you, and you know it’ll feel just so sinful later, just the way you like it.

"Come on, Mr Jang. Haven't you always wanted to have sex with your students? I'll be your first, and if you impress me, maybe I'll get Jiheon-unnie and Yujin-unnie in bed with you as well. Do you want that, Mr Jang?”

The dumb nod you give her makes her smile.

“Then, what are you waiting for? 

“Take me.”

[feyascorner]

until I come back alive

summary. in which you come back injured from a particularly unlucky battle, and Astarion realizes his feigned affections for you are not feigned at all.

warnings. angst, fluff, Astarion being bad at feelings

pairing. Astarion x GN!reader

a/n. this is super long omg ALSO TYSM for the love on my previous fic! It was my first post so I didn’t realize more than like two ppl would see it!! Kind of scary but also I can write more astarion so oh well 🙏

“The way they look at you is different from the way they look at us.”

Astarion raises a brow at this, glancing at Karlach who adjusts a log in the campfire paying no heed to the flickering flames brushing against her skin. She smiles to herself, genuinely, and he questions if she’s finally gone mad.

“So have you said the big ‘L’ word yet?” she asks excitedly, turning to him with a big grin. He shifts away from her, the increasing heat radiating off her body but she doesn’t seem to care, too busy staring at him expectantly.

“The what?”

“You know! The ‘L’ word,” she says the last part in a hushed whisper, as if it’d be a sin for anyone else to hear. Occasionally it baffles him how childish she can be, though he’d never voice these concerns out loud considering she could snap his poor body in half if she really wanted.

He also knows that she’s more emotionally capable in how she approaches these relationships (though one could argue it’s just innocence)—in ways he’s lost over the past 200 years. Though, he makes an effort to shove these thoughts to the deepest corners of his brain for the sake of his own sanity.

“If you’re speaking of ‘love,’” He emphasizes it with a strange accent. “No. I have not. Nor have they.”

She appears puzzled. “Why not?”

He sighs irritably, bringing a hand to adjust the cuffs on his hand. “Must everything be put bluntly? So glaringly obvious?”

“You love each other, don’t you?”

At this, he falters, just the slightest before plastering his usual grin that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Love is a wide spectrum, dear. Tav and I are whatever they want us to be.”

A late night partner would be the most positive thing he could refer you to. A fling, an amusement, or whatever words people described the arrangement between the two of you as, he didn’t care for it. He’d given himself to you, and you to him—-physically, at least, and you’d seem more than content with it. In return, he received protection, which was a sufficient payment in return for his hushed words of affection and kisses. A fair trade, he deemed.

Sure, he could’ve chosen anyone else in the camp. But he’d seen the way your eyes lit up at the sight of him, surely dazed at his flirtatious tendencies. You’d been an easy target. A survival tool.

And yes, maybe he’d played with your innocent feelings, but could you really blame him? He’d given you the nights of your life, for something so simple in return. It was a transaction.

Karlach waves a dismissive hand which brings him back to the present, propping herself on her arm behind her. “Life’s too short for that bullshit. Either you love someone or you don’t.”

“Fortunately for me, I have all of eternity,” he snorts. “Unless I were to suddenly lose the unwanted visitor inside my head and step into the sunlight, I’ll be here to watch the world fall and rise a dozen times over I’m afraid.”

“But they don’t,” Karlach frowns. “Tav doesn’t have eternity.”

He ignores the way his jaw clenches. He’s afraid, he thinks, of losing the freedom he’s just gained.

“Did you call me?”

Both the vampire and tiefling turn to your voice, where you stand blankly with an armful of logs clutched to your waist. Karlach opens her mouth to respond, but Astarion is faster.

“Nothing, darling. Just answering a few curious questions from Karlach here.”

“Oh,” you blink at him, shrugging before setting the logs beside the fireplace. “Well, Gale, Shadowheart, and I are going to the village across the forest tomorrow morning to check on the goblins appearing there recently. Won’t be back till noon so don’t wait up.”

“Don’t worry,” Karlach laughs. “I’ll keep the camp in order while you’re gone. If Astarion tries to bite Lae’zel, though, his fate’s inevitable.”

He rolls his eyes, opting to stand from his spot and take your hand. “Come along, darling. Any longer near this damned fireplace and my skin may melt.”

You nod with a smile, waving at Karlach before you follow him into his tent without a word of protest.

Easy, he thinks. Too easy.

He soon finds himself staring up at you from his place, laying his head on your lap as you read through a few scrolls you found throughout the day. He clicks his tongue and you look down, offering that sickeningly sweet smile again. “What’s wrong?”

“You have the most handsome person in this camp on your bloody lap and you want to read?”

You snicker at this, setting the scroll down beside you. “What do you suggest I do? Worship the very eyelashes on your face?”

“My body deserves much more praise than just the eyelashes.”

“Hm…” you pretend to be in thought. “That mole on your face is very obvious too.”

He gasps, immediately shooting upward as he grabs at his own face. “Tell me you’re lying.”

Your laughter rings throughout the tent, airy as you pull his hand away from his face. “I’m kidding, mostly.”

He stares at you as you recollect yourself, finding himself gazing at you far longer than he’d like to admit. Quickly, he adjusts, fiddling with the hand mirror he always keeps under his pillow as he watches you through it. “Karlach spoke of something ridiculous today. She said you were in love with me.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” he rolls his eyes. “That woman lives in a fairy tale I tell you. How she went through 10 years in Avernus is beyond me.”

There’s slight hesitance in your voice, and if he’d not learned your body language early on in your arrangement, he wouldn’t have even noticed it. “Astarion, have you ever been in love?”

He pauses at this, meeting your eyes head on now. There’s a heavier thickness in the air between the short distance between the two of you, and he immediately gauges what you want him to say. A lie readies itself at the tip of his tongue, his gaze searching yours for whatever fantasy that lives behind them.

Instead, your expression is blank. He finds nothing.

“No.” He’s not sure why he responded honestly, but it’s too late to take it back. “Have you?”

You look to the side. “I’m not sure anymore.”

“Anymore?” He shifts his head when you turn your chin further away, avoiding confrontation. “Has someone captured your impenetrable heart as of late? How intriguing—do tell.”

His teasing tone drops when you don’t smile at his usual antics. He’s not stupid—far from it. He knows you’ve begun to fall for him. It’s an obvious result from the 200 years of instinctive flirting he has tucked away in what remains of his soul, and it’s what he intended. What he needed.

The more enraptured you are, the longer he has protection.

He gently tilts your chin toward him, his fang visible through the grin that stretches across his face. “Tell me, pet, do you love me?”

Your eyes drop to his lips. “Do you want me to?”

A bunny caught in the fangs of a fox. It would be so easy to indulge—to go as far as to make you nothing but a puppet he toys with for his own personal gains. He can sense the way your finger twitches, itching to lace them with his own, and the crueler side of him forces his hand to stay put.

He wordlessly leans toward you, his lips grazing against the side of your neck. You shiver at the touch and he smiles wickedly to himself, drinking in the gasp that escapes you when he tilts your neck to the other side, where he usually drinks.

He doesn’t even have to ask. “Just—be gentle. Please.”

“Of course.” He unhinges his jaw, ready to plunge the knives of his teeth into where the sweet liquid gold rushes to your face, his shoulders finally relaxing when—

“I love you,” you whisper under your breath.

He stops.

Though unsure why, he freezes. Completely and utterly freezes.

“Astarion?”

He pulls away slowly, staring at you for a long moment before offering another smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“You look exhausted, my dear. I think that’s enough for tonight.”

“But you didn’t even feed?”

“I can handle myself, darling, as much as I appreciate your worries,” he stands and holds the flap of the tent open, practically a silent demand for you to leave.

He should be ecstatic. Gleaming with joy from being offered a drop of your blood, but instead, he feels knots forming in his stomach. And the longer he watches you, the worst they seem the get.

Hurt flashes across your face and he ignores the sudden tightness in his chest.

“Okay, well,” you say, stepping out hesitantly. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, my dear.”

And as he lies wide awake in the middle of the night with nothing to accompany him but his own thoughts, he finds that all of them are overruled by his endless need for warmth. Not just anyone’s but the one he’s become accustomed to the past few months. No matter how much he curls up in his bedroll, all he can feel is the chill of his own body.

And he hates it more than he expected.

——

By the time he awakens, you’re long gone.

He’s rather productive. Taking walks, gathering supplies, catching up on his reading, he refuses to sit and lie around as the others await for you and your companions to return from the goblin village.

He even entertains sitting through one of Karlach’s dances, which somehow ends up being more entertaining than he’d imagined. While she didn’t fall flat on her face (which he admittedly looked forward to), it burnt through time regardless.

The peace is broken when he hears footsteps rushing toward the camp. He’s memorized everyone’s intervals when sprinting or pacing, so he’s quick to identify Gale and Shadowheart. He listens keenly for your own footsteps.

There are no third pair of footsteps at all.

Shadowheart stumbles into the camp, in a panic compared to her usual self, as she points toward a spot on the ground and snaps at Gale to put something down.

He only sees when she moves out of the way that this something, is rather someone.

You’re writhing in pain, eyes shut in an unconsciousness that’s surely preferable to what you’re feeling. You’re sweating, groaning in your sleep and everyone is immediately rushing to you.

His face would’ve gone pale, if it weren’t for the fact that he was already as ghostly as a sheet.

“What happened,” Lae’zel demands in place of him, and he opts to mindlessly push Gale to the side, who doesn’t say a word from the expression on Astarion’s face. He doesn’t know what he looks like, but from Gale’s reaction, it’s better he never know.

“Damned poison arrows,” Shadowheart hisses. “I’m completely out of magic for today. I need to make an antidote by hand before their condition gets any worse than it already is.”

Astarion brushes the back of his knuckles against your cheek. The creases between your brows soften for the slightest moment before they’re back again.

Lae’zel and Shadowheart are arguing again—something about how one thing would’ve happened if another thing hadn’t. He’s not even sure what they’re arguing about, but in an instant, rage flickers in his chest.

“Do something!” He snaps, suddenly making the camp go quiet. “Or are you just going to stand there and watch them die?”

He suddenly feels a hand grab his, and his eyes shoot down to see your own. Even in your sleep, you reach out to him. Even in the deepest part of slumber, you search for him. It makes him feel like the shittiest and luckiest person alive, especially as the your hurt expression from last night flashes in his mind.

“Help them,” the words spill out against his will, his tone breaking down into something more desperate. “Do something. For God’s sake, anything.”

In the moment, he doesn’t care about protection. He doesn’t give a shit about any of that because the second he’d seen you in genuine pain, it was all he needed to completely forget about the stupid reasons why he approached you in the first place.

All he cared about was your life.

Everyone glances at one another knowingly, but even Lae’zel doesn’t break the silence. Shadowheart spares him a furrowed glare before rushing to gather the antidote.

You only awake hours later. Certainly during the middle of the night, to the ceiling of a tent that’s certainly not your own. You slowly urge yourself to sit up, a pounding headache ringing in your skull, but your worries about it vanish when you hear his voice.

“Quite the nap, darling.”

You snap around to see him on the other side of the tent, albeit only a few feet away from how crunched it is. Fascinating, he thinks, that even with your disheveled hair and bloodshot eyes, he finds you more beautiful than before. “What happened?”

“You nearly died.”

“…how?”

“Poison,” he’s fiddling with his dagger, refusing to look at you. He can’t. In fear of what he might say. “Caused a reasonable panic too. Seems like our companions have grown more attached to you than anyone’s expected.”

You purse your lips, and he quickly mortifies at the exceeding need to part them with his own. You don’t seem to notice. “You too?”

“I was certainly worried our esteemed leader may kick the bucket earlier than anticipated, yes.”

“No, I mean,” you scrunch your eyes sheepishly, and he thinks it’s adorable. Gods he must be going insane. “Have you…grown attached?”

He raises a brow. “You just woke up from a life threatening experience and that’s what piques your interest?”

Your cheeks turn a shade darker. He wants to touch them. “I just…I was worried all day. About us. I got too distracted and of course, that’s on me, but one of the goblins took advantage and—“

He wants to climb into a coffin, guilt eating away at what remains of his organs. But when you fidget with the ends of his bedroll blanket, he can’t tell if his stomach is churning from shame or something else.

You stop, close your mouth, then open it again. “When I passed out, I was just thinking about how I would hate for us to part like that. I didn’t want last night to be our last moment.”

“No,” he says firmly. “While you’d been asleep, I’ve had quite some time to think, darling. And more time to wallow in my self pity for being stuck with an actual weirdo. I mean, do you hear yourself? Worrying about such a stupid encounter while on your deathbed? You should’ve been cursing me with all the strength you had left if you were going to think about me of all people!”

You smile a bit, and he grits his teeth at the way his throat goes dry. “I’m just glad.”

“For getting poisoned?”

“No,” you roll your eyes. “I’m glad I didn’t scare you off by telling you I loved you. I was afraid we wouldn’t talk like this anymore.”

His body wills him to freeze up again. To push you away, and to force the fantasy that his feelings towards you were nothing but manipulative. That you were nothing but a way to survive to him. But no, he couldn’t stand such cowardice any longer. Not after nearly losing you.

You offer him a pathetic laugh. “I don’t expect you to say it back, nor for you to feel the same way. I just—felt like you needed to know. It doesn’t change anything between us I hope. It just felt wrong to keep it to myself any longer and the way you reacted just made me regret it so much-“

He wraps his palm in front of your mouth, his other hand pulling you closer to his side in an instant. With your faces inches apart, he sighs irritably. “As much as I’d like to keep hearing your voice, I can’t stand its contents any longer I’m afraid.”

He lowers his hand, staring straight at your wide eyes as he narrows his own. “I do. Like you, I mean. A lot more than I’d like to admit, quite frankly.”

You blink as if you’re staring at a miracle.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he mumbles with a scoff. “I’ve had these feelings for a while now, I just didn’t wish to face them. When you said that to me yesterday, I just didn’t know how to respond, and for that, I am sorry. But losing you—I’m not sure what I would have done, but it’s certainly not a pretty sight.”

Your eyes soften and he’s certain he can lose himself within them for years. “I’ve never heard you sound so—sincere.”

He raises your knuckles to his lips, keeping them close even as he speaks. “I approached you out of necessity, I’ll admit. But it seems you’ve grown on me in a way I haven’t experienced since I’ve turned into a spawn. What you are to me—it’s difficult to describe.” He pauses. “Sometimes, I can still feel my heart beating with you.”

As your fingers brush against the side of his face, he swears he can feel it again. He almost feels warm, maybe even safe. And he’s sick and tired of denying himself of your embrace when death is around every corner.

You’re soon curled up into his chest, with his chin atop of your head. He’s not sure how much time passes—maybe hours, or even days as he continues to observe your face, committing each and every detail to his memory. And when your breathing steadies, falling into deep slumber, he finally has the courage to whisper the words against your hair.

“I love you.”

[hemlock-dreams]

What's Spidys relationship like with the other NY bound heros?

Got a bunch of other hero asks so it's time for Ye Olde Lore Dump!

Johnny and H!Spiderman have never gotten along- in either universe.

They don't even really have any real beef with each other, they're just two dudes who grate on each other's nerves for no particular reason- like two guys at a frat party who are just waiting for an excuse to duke it out.

There's just something about Johnny's playboy easy-come-and-go vibe that makes Spidey want to plant a fist in his face. And Johnny thinks Spiderman is a fucking buzzkill.

Black Widow and Spiderman have a good working relationship. He once helped her out of a tight spot in New York and he was fast, smart and discreet about it- so when she's got some ops she needs a second pair of hands for (under the table), she calls him.

Spiderman admires Nat's competence and single-minded focus in getting things done- they all appeal to the hunter in him. (And he's got a massive crush on her.)

They usually do one or two jobs every few months, and meet up for drinks at one of her safehouses. She's also knows his secret identity, because she's just that scary.

Logan and Peter are BFFs. For real. Logan was in town to help with some shit that ended up involving Deadpool and found himself at St. Margaret's.

He and Peter struck up a friendship that ends up with them going camping every couple of months for a week or so.

Logan likes Peter's no-bullshit sincerity and can tell he's had some shit(TM) go down in his life. Peter's easy to talk to and is good at reading the room. And Peter feels like Logan fills in that space Marko left as a friend/mentor/gruff bro figure.

Logan actually picks up when Peter calls. (most others he leaves on read).

Fun fact, he has no idea Peter is Spiderman.

And another fun fact, it's not Johnny Deadpool is jealous of, it's Logan.

Peter has a very complicated relationship with the Avengers.

On one hand, he knows what they do and what they stand for- on the other hand, he's got a real problem with authority figures. He's been invited to the Avengers multiple times, in both realities.

The answer is always blanket N.O. (And, depending on whether it's stark asking, accompanied by a giant middle finger). (Though he's reluctantly agreed to have an avenger's phone in case there are any massive threats they need help with).

As for the members:

Stark gets on his nerves like nothing else. He's not super easy to rile up, but Stark's playboy arrogance (real or not), way he talks down at people, the self-appointed authority, the entitlement, and, of course, the fucking hypocrisy- it makes Spidey go 0 to 'cashmeoutside' immediately.

He and the Captain sometimes get along, but mostly when the Captain isn't in one of his preachy, pontificating moments. They do work very well together in a combat capacity, but they don't have much to talk about.

Thor is fine, but completely outside of Spidey's sphere and also, difficult to work with given his powers.

Bruce and Spidey just don't have much to talk about, and once again, Hulk is way too loud and can't particularly coordinate when they have to team up.

In general, H!Spiderman gets along with the more 'loner' heroes like Murdock, Deadpool, Black Widow, Bucky, Logan, Clint and so on.

(Side note, imagine he said all these shots fired shit to the Avengers and they were like 'no? none of this happened?' because it's not the same reality and Spiderman has to go home and die from the cringe???) (no we'll let him be cool for this)

-----

Once again, thank you so much for the asks!! I really appreciate all the love this AU has gotten and I hope these answers satisfy!!!

[livlaughloveluke]

ᡣ𐭩 𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗳𝘁 𝗽.𝟭

child of dionysus x luke castellan 🍷

IN WHICH… the man you hate just can’t seem to leave you alone

warning! this fic contains- swearing // alcohol mentions // shitty parents // use of y/n // angst // daddy issues! // spoilers to tlt // probably not book accurate // implied sex!! // no actual smut, but definitely heavy illusions to sex (both characters are 18) // loss of virginity // drugs (medicinal) // blood // reader wears a swimsuit?? // reader gender isn’t mentioned i think // mentions of death/drowning // ends on an cliffhanger!!!

[a/n]-we’re just going to say tlt takes place in 2005, so luke and will have been born in 1986. also, incase you didn’t know, Hera doesn’t have any demigods, so her cabin is empty :)

part two is in progress, just wanted to put something out until then. also kinda ends on an odd note because it wasn’t intended to be multiple parts

🎧- night shift by lucy dacus

6.6k words (oopsies)

You hated Luke Castellan above all else.

Coming from you, that was a pretty bold statement, considering that you had a fiery hatred for plenty of things. Whether it be people who smacked their gum too loudly or ignorant gods who brushed off their children with no remorse, everything seemed to unwillingly ignite a spark in you. However, someone in particular really seemed to piss you off.

The mere sight of his stupid curls and even stupider scar hadn’t always awakened such a burning rage in you; in fact, he used to do the opposite. He was fourteen when you first met him.

April 13th, 2000

Luke had been placed into the chaos of Cabin 11, the other campers unfazed by a new demigod living with them as they carelessly bumped into his shoulder while playing tag. Old magazines scattered the wood floors, and dust covered the edges of his scrappy bed. With a sigh, he threw his bag onto the floor and escaped the overwhelming sensations provided by his siblings.

The light tour Chiron provided was seemingly useless as he mindlessly waltzed down to the lake, unsure of another quiet space to go to. He performed a quick glance around to ensure he was really alone, and then plopped down onto the rocky shore with a groan. Without his father and now Thalia, he wasn’t sure if he’d survive a night at this bullshit camp.

“You okay?” You emerged from the woods, staring at him with a concerned expression. He jumped slightly, startled by your presence since he literally just checked to see if he was alone. “Oh, uhm, yeah.”

“Wanna talk about it?” You asked, noticing the way his tone was so unconvincing while sitting down next to him and staring out at the view. It wasn’t typical of you to be so welcoming, but you had recently received dessert privileges back after getting them taken away for punching some Aphrodite girl, so a cheery mood was accompanied. He glared at you, slightly annoyed by the way you interrupted his moment of peace. But then again, you weren’t really bothering him, so he figured you could stay. You were also breathtaking, so how could he shoo you away?

“No.” Luke replied honestly after a moment of silence, a slight grimace decorating his features while thinking about his long past.

“Fair. I’m sorry about your friend.” You said, your voice filled with empathy rather than pity as you kept eye contact with the horizon despite the cooling wind that turned your eyes glossy and ruffled your neon orange shirt. “Thanks.” He muttered as the memories flooded his mind, to the point where he had to clench his teeth together so he wouldn’t cry.

“I’m Y/N. Child of Dionysus.” Turning around, you offered a friendly smile until you realized he had his head buried into the crook of his elbow and emitted gentle sniffles. “Oh shit, I’m sorry. Did I say something? I’m trying to work on it, I swear-“

“Does it ever get easier?” He interrupted, although his request came out muffled as he whispered into his skin.

“Well… sorta.”

“Sorta?”

“You get used to the whole Greek God thing, I guess.” You reply, avoiding the question he was clearly implying about his father being present. It wasn’t one you typically liked to talk about, along with most of the other campers with daddy issues. The truth was, you hated the gods for abandoning their children, but speaking out about that would have some brutal consequences. Let’s just say you would lose more than just dessert privileges for a week.

“I’m heading down to the bonfire; you should join.” You said after another long pause of silence, standing up and dusting the particles of sand that had collected on the bottom of your denim shorts.

“Okay.” He stood up, wiping his eyes, and followed you as you hiked through the trees.

“So, why were you stalking me again?” Luke spoke up with a sarcastic tone, stepping over the large tree trunks that had fallen down onto the forest floor.

“Woah, I was not stalking you, newbie.”

“Sure looked like it when you magically appeared out of the woods.”

“Well, I wasn’t, okay? Mind your business.” You snapped, the caring facade slipping away as you stared at him harshly enough to pierce his heart.

“Jeez, sorry.” Luke looked down at his feet, feeling a little guilty for being too pushy with practically a stranger. After seeing his suddenly reserved body language, you stopped the hike and faced him.

“Don’t apologize.”

“What?” His gaze averted back up to meet your cold expression.

“Don’t apologize. I was being a bitch. Stand up for yourself.”

“Uhh..” Luke was now extremely confused, looking around as if this was some sort of prank show with the way you switched up so fast.

“Let’s try again. I’m gonna say the sane thing, and you’re going to stand up for yourself. Kay?”

“I don’t-“ He started, but was quickly interrupted by you.

“Well, I wasn’t, okay? Mind your business.” You repeated from earlier, making your voice sound even ruder as you dramatically exclaimed.

“N-no? Is that what I’m supposed to say?” He questioned, still nervously glancing around and searching for some sort of explanation or another person hiding in the undergrowth to reveal it was a silly joke. You raised your eyebrows in disbelief at his terrible performance, blinking slowly as you scoffed.

“Oh gods. It’s not what you say; it’s how you say it. Be more confident.” Stepping back, you repeated the sentence again. “Well, I wasn’t, okay? Mind your business.”

“No.” Luke said, this time with more pride, although he kept staring at you for a sign of approval. “Good!” You supportively with a grin, turning to continue your walk. And after a sassy eye roll, Luke followed behind.

“Just trying to protect you from the Ares kids. They can be assholes.” You happily explained, a little too cheery for someone who just snapped at him.

“Yeah, okay.”

Luke knew he should be bothered by your interesting behavior. I mean, most would, but deep down, he liked how you were empathetic in such a strange way. It made him feel human, instead of like a tourist attraction that people whispered sweet nothings to and stared at curiously.

“Don’t take anyone’s shit, and soon enough you’ll be swimming in kleos.” You stated, swaying with every step and providing plenty of hand gestures.

“Kleos?”

“Glory. Everyone here is basically fighting to be respected.”

“Oh. Shouldn’t everyone just be respectful?” He obliviously asked, ducking under a low, hanging branch.

“They should, but they aren’t. But with glory, it makes you important. People sit up when you walk in the room; stay out of your way; things like that.”

“Wait, so I just have to stand up for myself, and suddenly I’m all important?”

“Sometimes. Usually, though, you have to major in some skill. Archery, sword fighting, healing, etc. You been claimed yet?”

“Yeah, Hermes.”

“Oh.” You replied, dissatisfaction noticeable.

“Oh??” Luke questioned, offended and sounding a little more rude than he intended.

“It’s not really a bad thing. Just different demigods are usually good at certain stuff. With Hermes, they typically tend to be good liars.”

“What’s your talent?” Luke asked, causing you to go quiet for a minute while thinking.

“Well, I’m really good at poker. That’s about it.”

“You’re a good talker, too.” He said, causing you to shoot him a threatening glare.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, you give decent advice, and you’re pretty welcoming. That’s a plus.” He instantly backtracked.

“Half of the camp would disagree with you on that. Turns out hostility doesn’t get you the best reputation.”

“You’re hostile?” Sure, you may have had a little anger management problem, but hostile? You seemed sweet enough to Luke, at least.

“I don’t talk to all the newbies like this.”

“Then why me?” Luke, from his understanding, wasn’t special. He didn’t stick out. He wasn’t super hot, smart, or funny. He was just average, in his opinion.

“Dunno. Why not?” You said, which wasn’t entirely true. He just seemed different, like he was hiding more beneath the surface. Similar to a puzzle that you needed to solve, except if you didn’t, you’d be burdened with a painful itch of curiosity for the rest of eternity.

“Hm, Fair. But what should I try to achieve kleos?”

“Don’t go for archery or healing; the Apollo kids will smoke you. Maybe sword fighting? I could show you the basics sometime.”

“Sword fighting it is.”

May 21st, 2001

"Where were you during arts and crafts?" You asked while sitting down next to Luke at lunch, clearly irritated by his absence during this morning's activities.

"I was-" He tried to explain, but you had already taken his hands and begun to inspect them, your touch shutting him up. You huffed in annoyance while gently tracing over his callouses and cuts.

"You were training again."

"I just needed more practice. I didn't mean to-" He started, feeling remorse for not showing up, but you were there to quickly interrupt him.

"Save it. I have bandages back at my cabin; let's go. It's the least you can do for leaving me with your siblings all morning." You slammed your hands on the table, standing up and practically dragging Luke to follow you (he would have followed even if you didn't force him).

Once a long distance away from the pavilion, you brought up a topic he wasn't the most comfortable with. "Training to prove yourself?" He swallowed back his anger, not wanting to lash out at you, despite the fact that you could obviously take it.

"Maybe I am. Who cares?"

"I do. Stop caring about the gods so much."

"Easy for you to say. Your father's here." Luke mumbled mockingly under his breath, barely above a whisper, but you heard.

"I'm not sure he even knows my name. He's a drunk dumbass, not exactly great dad material." This shut him up, his gaze traveling to the dirt floor until you reached Cabin 12. Silence and tension filled the air as you opened your backpack, scouring for the gauze and anticipatant. Gripping his wrist with a rage-filled force, you carefully rubbed the Neosporin over the red cuts and wrapped his palms with the stretchy material gifted by an Apollo friend.

"Don't say I don't care about you. You know I do." You whispered, breaking the quiet atmosphere and filling it with fiery love.

"But he doesn't."

"So?"

"He's my father. He should."

"You should stop focusing on what you don't have. Working yourself to the bone won't improve your relationship."

He didn't respond, not having an argument or a sassy comment whipped up, because you were right. He manufactured this mindset that if he was good enough, if he had glory, Hermes would finally notice him and would finally love him. However, there was always a little voice in the back of his head that made him doubt all of his hopes for a family. You just amplified that voice like a microphone.

"And you left me alone with your brothers. Bleh." You smiled, trying to lighten the mood a little while tying off the first bandage.

"C'mon, they aren't that bad."

"You should have heard how they were talking about Julia from Aphrodite Cabin."

"Ew." He laughed, looking at you while you concentrated on wrapping his last hand. You looked so stunning like this, with your pearly teeth peeking between the skin of your lips and your eyes squinting while focusing on making sure it was perfect. He was truly a dumbass, focusing on the gods while you were right in front of him. "Done." You said while tucking in the end of the gauze. He hinged his hand open and shut a few times to make sure it was sturdy, and of course it was.

"Thank you." Luke praised you, not just for patching him up, but for caring.

"Anytime. Hey, I made you something during arts and crafts." You dug through your plastic junk drawer, clinking around all the junk in search of something specific.

"Hm?"

You snatched up a small beaded necklace from the drawer before extending your hand and showing it to him. It was crumpled up, the flimsy string intertwined with itself and the beads out of order, so he picked the jewelry up and awed at the handmade piece. It was wooden beads painted in deep burgundy paint with your first name spelled out in Greek letters, strung on black elastic.

"It's gorgeous." Was all he could manage to utter out, still starstruck by the thoughtfulness of your gift.

"Thanks. We should probably get back to lunch before it's over." You replied, and for the first time in Luke's year of knowing you, you look flustered. You nervously glanced down at the laces to your shoes and fiddled with your fingers, even swaying from the tips of your toes to the back of your heels.

"Yeah, yeah." He agreed, slipping the necklace on and walking out with you behind him. For the rest of the day, he was all smiles and giggles, with others unsure of why he was in such a good mood. Until the inky night sky swallowed the bright blue light, and nightmares came with it. 

Most demigods were prone to the occasional bad dream, but Luke was a frequent victim of Hypnos’ curse. Every other night was filled with images of losing what he loved, but he was too embarrassed to talk to someone about it, so he suffered silently.

That night, the dreams were particularly horrific, to the point where he awoke covered in sweat and probably some tears, too. His mind debated whether or not sneaking out and waking you up was a bad idea, but the thought of staying awake alone in his bed another minute scared him more than any profanity you could throw at him for interrupting your “beauty sleep.”

Tiptoeing silently outside the hot cabin, his heart pounded as he traveled to your room next door. He was still in flannel pajama pants and an old tee shirt with some vintage band plastered on it, the chilling wind erupting goosebumps. 

Luckily, your bed was right next to a window, which he promptly (and quietly) tapped on to wake you up. A few groans and twists later, you slid open the glass and gawked at him.

“Luke, what the fuck are you doing?” You whisper-yelled, praying to the gods none of your siblings woke up and started bitching.

“I had a nightmare.”

“You woke me up at two in the morning because you had a nightmare?” 

“Please, I just need someone to talk to.” Hearing the desperation and seriousness in his voice, you couldn’t possibly reject him, no matter how tired you were.

“I’ll be out in a second.” 

Sliding the window shut, you slipped on some sandals and exited to see Luke, who was standing on the porch. 

Walking down the steps with him tracking behind, you waited until you were isolated by the lake to talk. “Everything okay?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been having really bad nightmares lately, and I know that sounds stupid, but I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Have you tried talking to the Apollo kids? It’s not rare for them to deal with insomnia.”

“Well, no. It’s humiliating. It’s taken me a year to talk to you about it, and you’re my best friend.” Luke skimmed past the term ‘best friend’, unsure if you felt the same. It was stupid; you were definitely his best friend, but what if he wasn’t yours? 

“First of all, it’s not. But I don’t mind talking to them. I can say I’m having nightmares, and they’ll probably give me melatonin, and then I can give it to you.”

“You’d do that? Smuggle drugs for me?” He spoke softly, the moonlight enchanting his features. 

“Course. You’re my best friend.”

December 27th, 2002

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You yelled at Luke in the empty Hera Cabin, angrier than ever. Word had spread to you like wildfire of a quest Luke had accepted, despite the fact it was a suicide mission.

“Listen-“

“No! You told me you didn’t care about the god’s approval anymore. And now you’re going on some bullshit quest?! You’re a fucking dumbass.”

“I just need one chance to prove myself to him.” He pleaded, begging for you to understand and forgive him, even though he knew you weren’t the “forgive and forget” type. Honestly, he was about 80% sure you were still holding a grudge against him for stealing the dessert off your plate three months ago.

“Why aren’t you happy where you are? You’re the best swordsman at camp in three hundred years; half the girls here are in love with you, and everyone practically worships the ground you walk on!”

“I don’t care about them.”

“Do you not care about me, either?” You spoke softly, which was a dramatic shift from the heated yelling a few seconds ago.

“What? Of course-“ Luke cared about you more than anything— more than himself or any silly god. It wasn’t very far-fetched to assume that he even loved you, although his anxious self would never admit anything of the sort. But this quest was a dream of his, and it wasn’t possible for him to just give it up.

“Whatever. I’m done with your bullshit.” You cut him off and stormed out, leaving him to watch you walk away with an aching pain in his heart. That wound was left open as he set out for his journey that night, along with two other campers who were slightly underqualified.

The quest went to shit the minute they left camp’s solace, with monsters attacking from every direction. However, he and his companions were able to make it to the guarded tree with only a few minor injuries.

Until Luke reached for the golden apple and was sliced by the dragon who protected the fruit. Blood gushed out of the cut that decorated his eye as he stumbled away. The loss of blood and shock caught up to him, and eventually he lay in the arms of his friends, fading in and out of consciousness.

The idea that your life flashes before your eyes when you're near death is indeed true. Memories of previous years flooded his brain, from his childhood to his teen years (which mainly consisted of you). As the light faded away, all he could think of was how he never admitted his love to you and how your last interaction with him was an argument.

The next time he awoke, he was in the camp infirmary, dazed as he slowly blinked the sleep away from his eyes. The teenage nurses yelled at him as he slowly stood up and deliriously walked outside, but he couldn’t care less. He just wanted to see you and apologize. His near-death experience was a wake-up call, a sign that what he was feeling towards you wasn’t just friendly admiration.

Luckily for him, you were waiting for him outside, sitting on a wood bench as you anxiously bounced your leg. As he stumbled out the door, you immediately stood up and rushed towards his weak body. What caught him off guard was the way you hugged him instantly, wrapping your arms around his torso while burying your head in his chest. For the first time in days, you were able to breathe, inhaling his musky scent rapidly. The fight had taken a toll on you. You lied awake at every night scared out of your mind that he would die hating you.

“I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things, I was just angry at you for leaving me, but-” You rammbled into the cloth of his shirt, the vibrations on his skin making his heart flutter.

“Don’t apologize.” He said with a loopy smile, making you laugh with relief while remembering the first time you met. His original plan of confessing his love to you the moment he woke up with a dramatic spiel was immediately thrown in the trash as he looked at you from above. The worries of ruining this magical friendship you had spent two years building overtook the joys of the possibility that a new relationship would blossom. So for now, he was comfortable being friends with you. Best friends.

The stares from others went unnoticed, Luke too enchanted by your warming touch to see the way others gawked at him from afar, like he was a monster. Not until the next day, when he wasn’t drugged, at least.

When he looked in the crowded bathroom mirror the next morning after plenty of rest, it almost scared him. His gash was a beaming red with dried maroon blood on the edges and a violet hue discoloring the nearby skin. Swallowing nervously, he did his best to clean it up with warm water before rushing to the picnic tables for breakfast, where you sat munching on cereal.

“You’re the most brutally honest person I know. How bad is it? Like, can I even show my face anymore?” He blurted out, causing you to glance up with a slight panic. After a few seconds of consideration, you replied.

“It makes you look badass.”

“Are you sure?”

“Definitely. Go get something to eat and come back to talk to me.” Luke responded with a nod, heading off to grab a quick breakfast. With a tray of pancakes in his hand, he returned and sat down across from you.

“So?” You waited eagerly for some explanation of his trip.

“It went like shit. You’re right, I’m not good enough.”

“Woah, I never said that.”

“You implied it.”

“That’s not what I meant. I meant you shouldn’t rely on your successes or failures to determine your worth.”

“Same thing.” He retorted with a scowl, stuffing his mouth with food.

“Not even close. So, what’d you learn?”

“That I need to train harder.”

“Holy shit, you are a dumbass.” You said with a long blink and a theatrical sigh.

“Can we talk about something else?”

“Sure. How’s Annabeth?” Annabeth and you were always so different, but somehow that made you closer. She spent her hours strategizing and acting like an adult, and you spent yours playing games and wishing you were younger. Regardless, she was like a little sister to you.

“She’s… like usual.” Luke replied with a crinkle of his lips.

“Mm, so she’s still forcing herself to be an adult at nine?”

“Yeah, just about.”

“We should get her to play poker with us one night. Help loosen her up a little.”

“Not a chance.”

March 19th, 2003

You and Luke stood side by side, anxiously waiting for Capture the Flag to start, while Chiron yapped about the rules. You’d already heard the whole spiel of instructions multiple times, so naturally you grew bored, and your mind wandered off to the boy beside you.

He looked like a true warrior, with his pointy metal helmet that somehow sharpened his features. Over the past few summers, he had grown significantly, and the puff on his cheeks had thinned out. Needless to say, he wasn’t short of admirers.

You painfully watched as hundreds of girls fawned over him and even began to dread getting ready in the bathroom because of how many praises were thrown at him.

Luke sensed your annoyance from afar, although it wasn’t hard to notice by the way you scowled every time someone approached him with a new compliment. However, he thought you were just envious of the praise he received. In reality, you felt threatened, like someone would steal your spot in your best-friend-who-sometimes-flirt-with-each-other relationship with him. He would never let it happen though, even if you weren’t aware.

“Let the games begin!” Chiron yelled, snapping you out of your daydreaming session.

“You take the east side of the forest, I take the west, we meet up in the middle, right?” You wanted to confirm the Athena cabin’s strategy with him, to which he replied with a quick nod.

“Mhm. See you on the flip side.”

“See you on the flip side, Castellan.” You both turned to the different small groups that you were leading, setting out on foot to start your plan.

Annabeth and a few other geniuses had spent the past two weeks carefully crafting a flawless plan for today’s Capture the Flag game. You and Luke would attack, traveling into their side of the woods, while the rest would defend.

While you might not have been the best swordsman, you were a master of trickery and deception and decent at fist fighting. Plus, you had a solid team backing you up.

“So basically, we just need to fight some of the red team and then meet up with Luke and his group in the middle. Kay?” You instructed to your acquaintances, who diligently followed behind you as you hiked through the evergreen trees, until you saw a few of the other team lurking around. With a surprise attack, you were able to defeat them, with little of your squad lost in the process.

You kept on trekking through the dark depths of the forest before spotting some of the best members of the red team, specifically Sam from Ares cabin.

They were the biggest asshole around, and extremely cocky for someone who was the second-best sword fighter in camp. Plus, they were always trying to get in your pants, along with every other counselor who was old enough. To be frank, they were super hot, but you weren’t interested in anyone currently. Well, anyone who wasn’t Luke Castellan.

Knowing you wouldn’t win this battle, you shuffled to the bushes and silently watched while thinking of a good plan.

“Nice try. Up. Slowly.” Sam said unexpectedly, causing you to sigh with frustration and calmly stand up, along with your teammates.

“So, you can either give up now and save yourself the trouble, or we can do the whole fighting thing and eliminate you that way. Your choice.” They stated with a smile, only egging you on.

“What a little bundle of joy you are.”

“Hm, okay, fighting it is.” They sliced for your stomach, the metal of their blade clinking with the iron of your breastplate. You were stunned at first, but immediately charged back while his goons attacked your friends.

The sound of swords slicing and heavy grunts filled the woods, alerting Luke, who was a decent distance away. Most of his teammates had been eliminated, so now it was just him and one other member. He lightly jogged to the scene, not caring too much.

Meanwhile, your group was putting up a solid fight, but so were they. You clashed swords relentlessly with Sam, while your teammates suffered a bloody battle. In a mere minute, all of your team had surrendered, but so had all of Sam’s team.

With every second that passed, your efforts got messier and energy your got lower, and it was apparent this wasn’t going to be your victory. With one clean slice, Sam nicked your arm violently, and you let out a scream in response. Unbeknownst to you, Luke heard your pain and panicked, changing his pace from a careless jog to a speedy sprint. His partner yelled at him, confused, but Luke just kept going, despite his muscles that ached like fire.

You grew exhausted, now just weakly defending yourself from every attack. Seeing how unfocused you became, Sam took this opportunity to swipe your feet with his leg and send you tumbling to the ground, disarming you in the process.

Both panting heavily, they shakily brought the blade to your neck and stepped on your torso to prevent less squirming.

“You’d be a lot hotter if you weren’t such a bitch.” They said, and before you could come up with a witty reply, Luke had charged from behind. Slicing at Sam with adrenaline-fueled anger, he instantly knocked them down to the floor.

“Don’t ever talk to them like that again, or I’ll seriously fuck you up. Okay?”

“Okay, Jesus! What are you, their boyfriend or something?”

Luke wasn’t sure how to reply, so he didn’t. Was this too protective of him? No, he was just helping a friend. Right?

“Just say you surrender already.” He mustered up.

“Fine, I surrender.” Sam mumbled, and Luke took his sword away while they fled. Then, he turned to you, who was watching the whole thing from the floor.

“Holy shit, thank you.”

“Anytime, sweetheart. They hurt you?” He replied with a grin, helping you up with his right hand.

“Nothing bad.” You responded, twisting your arm to get a glance at the cut. He winced with empathy while grabbing your wrist so he could get a better glance.

“Ouch. Go to the infirmary. It’s bleeding a lot.”

“Whatever. Go get the flag, trooper.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice. With a sly salute, you both headed your separate ways. Luke had a pep in his step as he jogged to the bright flag, forgetting all about his partner, who was somewhere in the trees far behind him.

You headed to the nurse, getting it cleaned and patched up easily before setting off to the lake. Sitting on a pointy rock, you waited mindlessly for this stretched-out game to end. Technically you were still in, but your match with Sam was enough fighting for the day.

Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long, because Luke emerged from the forest a few minutes later carrying a gleaming red flag with pride.

Standing up, you cheered with excitement as you ran up to him, squealing like a little girl. He stopped in front of you and dug the pole into the rocky shore with a grin. Still in awe, all you could manage out was a toothy smile in reply.

“Congrats, Castellan.”

“Eh, it was no big deal.” He joked, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“Whatever. Bonfire tonight!!” You laughed and made sure to yell out the last sentence for all of your teammates, who whooped with glee.

When the sun drifted down the horizon that night, you and dozens of campers headed down to the shore, where a sparking fire raged. The flames danced as you sat around, scattered on different logs. You currently sat on the floor next to Luke while he sat on the wood, leaning your back against the dead tree and ever-so-slightly brushing up against his legs.

Everyone had noticed your change in attitude over the last few years. You seemed bubblier and more happy because, well, you were. Falling in love with someone who had a chance of reciprocating feelings was heaven. Every long stare from across the room and gentle touch made your skin crawl with adoration. Maybe you should tell him. But why ruin everything?

As the night stretched on and the violet sky dissipated into a jet black that was freckled with stars, you grew sleepier. And after the third yawn in only ten minutes, you decided it was time to hit the hay.

“Okay, I’m calling it quits. Night guys!” You stood up before turning to Luke.

“Goodnight, Luke.” You whispered in such a caring tone that he felt shivers down his spine. Speechless, he watched with hearts in his eyes as you walked away.

“At least try and be discreet.” One of his friends laughed as soon as your figure went unseen.

August 2nd, 2004

“Absolutely not. No way!” Annabeth yelled at you.

You, Luke, and her all sat on the floor of Cabin 12 playing Uno because apparently gambling “isn’t appropriate for an eleven-year-old.” The problem was that you liked to make up your own rules, while Annabeth strictly stuck to what was written in the instructions.

“Beth, everyone plays this way! Just take your six!”

“If your friends jumped off a cliff, would you?” She gave you her signature death stare.

“What are you, my mom? Luke, what’s your opinion?”

“Do not drag me into this.”

“I quit. I’m heading down to the lake, you guys wanna come?” You stated, slamming your mountain of red cards onto the floor and jumping up to search for a bathing suit in your dresser.

“I have archery training.” Annabeth said, grabbing her stuff and walking out.

“I’ll go.” Luke replied a little too eagerly.

“Okay. Meet me at the docks in ten?”

“Sure.” Using his bandaged palms to push off the wood floor, he left to go change.

Slipping into your black swimsuit, you threw a baggy shirt over it and skipped down to the shore, where Luke was waiting with his feet in the icy water.

“Hey.” You alerted him of your presence while sliding off your cover and tossing it down beside you. His breath hitched, and he couldn’t help but gawk at the slivers of your exposed skin. Nervously swallowing, he weakly replied. “H-hey.”

Ignoring the way he stuttered and stared, you jumped into the cool lake. The blue water engulfed you in a refreshing embrace, rolling off your skin as you emerged from the surface.

“I’ll race you to that buoy over there.” You pointed to the white float that bobbled up and down.

“Deal. Winner gets loser’s dessert for a week.”

“Deal.” You took off before he was even in the water, pushing off of the wood dock to accelerate forward.

“Cheater!” Luke yelled playfully before jumping in and following your path.

Eventually, he caught up and even reached the buoy first, grinning triumphantly as you paddled towards him.

“I hate you.” You mumbled, but the beaming smile plastered on your face told another story.

“Fine, you can keep your dessert privileges, but I still want bragging rights.” He offered, not caring a smidge about anything but making you happy.

“Gods, you’re such a good person.” You said, knowing you would have taken his food and flaunted on him for the next seven days.

“Race you back?”

“Fuck no. I’m tired.”

“I’ll carry you. The waters not too deep; you can sit on my shoulders while I walk.”

“You’ll drown.”

“I’m pretty ripped; I think I can manage carrying you one hundred yards.” He jokingly replied with a flex of his bicep, which was definitely appreciated by your wandering eyes.

“Sure. I’m not saving you if you do end up drowning, though.” You climbed onto his shoulders, and he gripped your calfs to help stabilize you and because he really just wanted an excuse to touch you.

“That’s a pretty badass way to die.” He said while trailing through the fresh liquid.

“To die while swimming through five-foot-deep waters?”

“Well, not when you phrase it like that.”

“How would you phrase it?”

“Glorious hero meets his fate at the lake with another counselor’s thighs wrapped around his head.”

You both froze with shock when he uttered his suggestive remark, even Luke not realizing his mistake until after. He felt his cheeks go hot and nervously tried to apologize for making you feel uncomfortable.

“Oh my gods, I swear I did not mean-“

You cut him off with a deep and angelic laugh, clearly not hurt by his poor choice of words.

“You’re a dumbass.” You choked out through heavy giggles, and he instantly relaxed upon realizing you didn’t think he was a complete pervert. Every laugh you released was like a weight off of his shoulders, and that was when he knew he could not shove his feelings down anymore.

Hours had passed, and you two ended up watching the sun fall by the lake while sharing a cherry red and white striped blanket. Not a word was whispered as you rested your head against his shoulder, his curls dripping onto your skin. He couldn’t help but smile as he felt your slow inhalation of the crisp air.

Once night arrived and the cicadas started chirping, it was finally time to break the comforting silence.

“I’m gonna go shower.” You said while slowly standing up and letting the towel drape off of your body.

“Me too.” Luke replied, getting up and placing the towel back on your shoulders so you wouldn’t have to brace the chilling breeze in a swimsuit. As you walked away, he couldn’t help but stare.

“Wait, I need to talk to you once you’re done. Meet me in the Hera Cabin after we’ve showered?” He called out after you, to which you nodded in response.

He needed to confess how he felt about you immediately, or his chest might actually explode. He needed to tell you about how his heart raced every time your touch lingered a second too long, how he ranted to Annabeth every night about the things you did that made him swoon, and how he was madly, head over heels, in love with you.

Once the musk of lake water had fully washed off, you headed to the infamous empty cabin, where Luke was waiting. His hair was still wet from the shower, causing his curls to separate, and he fidgeted with his fingertips while anxiously waiting for your arrival.

“You okay, Castellan?”

“No, I’m not, actually. I need to tell you something, like right now.” He stuttered out, his lip crunched up like he was in pain.

“You’re scaring me a little, but I’m all ears.”

“I love you.” Luke blurted out, the tension in the air increasing significantly with just three words.

“What?” It seemed as if the world had stopped, even the birds quieting down for a listen.

“I’m in love with you.” He repeated, like it was no big deal, like it was second nature.

“You love me?” You whispered out, almost like it was unheard for you to be loved.

“More than anything.”

You swallowed, thinking for a second while he awaited a response.

“I love you too.”

With the conformation of your words, he leaned in until the tips of his nose rubbed against yours. His lust-coated eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips, making it apparent what he wanted. Luke breathed in your fresh scent heavily while watching and waiting for a reaction—for you to pull away or do something.

Trailing a hand up into his hair, you delicately pushed his head until your lips met. His skin was honey-sweet as you gingerly kissed; it looked like something out of a romance movie. He forced himself to be a gentleman and pull apart after a few seconds, no matter how much he wanted to kiss you until his oxygen ran out.

Looking up into his eyes, you craved more. This built-up tension between you two was finally erupting, and it needed more than just a little kiss to be satisfied. So, you took charge and feverishly leaned in for more.

His hands cusped your cheek, carefully avoiding any boundaries you might have set up. That was until you snagged his bottom lip with your teeth, and he lost all self-control. The sweet kisses turned into a full-blown make-out session as he steadily snaked his hand down your torso and to the fat of your ass.

Only breaking for air when absolutely necessary, passion filled the atmosphere, along with hushed moans from the both of you. Luke warily trailed his hand upwards to your chest, and you could tell where this was heading. Panting, you removed your lips from his and spoke up.

“I’ve never.. I’m still…”

“Me too. Do you.. still want to?” He revealed, his heart racing while still daintily grazing your skin.

“Yes. Please.” You desperately nodded, like death was approaching if you didn’t continue. With that, he laid you down on the squeaky mattress of an unused bunk bed and hovered over.

“Gods, you look stunning.”

୨୧

part two in progress…

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MASTERLISTS 𓏲𝄢 REQUEST / TALK TO ME 𓏲𝄢 RULES

[pedrospatch]

to hell and back l two

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist l main masterlist l next chapter

summary: After escaping a group of brutal slavers, you are left with permanent physical and emotional scars. Unwilling to put your trust in another human being ever again, you spend a year fighting for survival alone in the post outbreak world. But when you choose to save the life of a man named Joel Miller, the wall that you’ve built to protect yourself slowly begins to crumble.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. canon violence, canon language, reader has a flashback, mentions of slavers, implied threat of assault, guns, reader gets groped, reader has a panic attack, a lot of angst, trauma. soft Joel, protective Joel, and i even threw in some domestic Joel because just imagine that old man making you a nice lil late night snack. 🥹 i think i got most of the major warnings out of the way, i’m sorry if i missed anything!

Word Count: 8.7k

Smoke was coming off my jacket

and you didn’t seem to mind

I left a long trail of ashes and

you said, I like your style

California l Spring, 2023

Your hand trembled slightly as you gripped your pistol and aimed it at his chest.

You’d never pointed your gun at another human being before. At least not one that was still alive.

“Hey now, it’s alright. You can trust us.”

Anxiously, you glimpsed from the man who had just spoken to the woman who stood beside him.

Surely the two had to be related. Both possessed the same fiery red hair, a face full of freckles, and vivid green eyes. They stood before you with their weapons lowered in an attempt to show you that they weren’t a threat to your safety. 

The man, who had to be in his mid to late thirties, moved to step forward, but halted in his tracks when he caught sight of the way your finger had twitched over the trigger. “My name is Mark,” he said, carefully gesturing to himself with his free hand. In his opposite hand, he clutched his rifle, an assault style weapon that made your gun look like a fucking toy in comparison. Still, it was you who had the upper hand, at least for now. “This here is my sister. Her name is Jessa.” He paused and when you said nothing, he asked, “Can you tell us your name?”

Chewing your bottom lip, you shook your head at him in response. 

You didn’t trust them.

Not quite yet.

Jessa, who was younger and looked to be closer to your own age, offered you a kind smile. “That’s alright. You don’t have to tell us your name until you feel comfortable.” She took a look around at the small, makeshift camp that you had made for yourself. “Are you all by yourself, sweets?”

You quickly wracked your brain. 

“No,” You fibbed. “I’m with my father. He should be back any minute now. He’s armed and he does not take all too kindly to strangers, so you’d best be on your way before he sees you.” You added in a steadier tone, “He won’t even think twice. He’ll just kill you on the spot, so you better leave right now. Or else.”

Amused, Mark let out a soft chuckle. “Oh, come on now, dollface. You don’t have to lie to us,” he stated, shaking his head. “Let’s try this again and let’s be honest this time, alright? How long have you been alone?”

Your throat bobbed as you swallowed harshly. 

Fuck.

He had seen right through the bullshit threat. 

“For about three or four days now,” You admitted, your shoulders sagging in defeat. “I was with my father and my sister. The three of us were on our way up north. We were trying to get to Seattle to the quarantine zone, but then they were—”

You suddenly stopped.

It felt like someone had driven their fist right into your gut, knocking all the wind out of your lungs and hindering your ability to speak.

You couldn’t even say it out loud.

Gruesome images of them being torn apart limb from limb flashed through your mind. Bile slowly started climbing its way up your throat and your stomach churned violently.

You were going to be sick.

“Are they both dead?” Mark questioned you.

You nodded, whispering shakily, “Yes.”

Jessa frowned. “I’m so sorry for your loss, honey. If it’s any consolation, me and Mark know exactly how it feels. We lost our entire family about three years ago. It’s the hardest thing we’ve ever been through.” Swinging back her own rifle behind her, she approached you and reached out, placing her hand over yours—the one that was still clutching your weapon. She didn’t even so much as flinch at the way the barrel was now pointed at her, how it was just an inch or two away from her chest. It didn’t seem to faze her that all it would take was you bringing your index finger down a bit harder on the trigger and she would be dead. “We know you must be fucking terrified, but it’s okay. You can trust us. We’re good, honest people and we just want to help you. But we can’t do that if you try and kill us, now can we?”

Slowly, Jessa guided you to lower your gun. She then looked over her shoulder, exchanging a look with her brother, as if asking him to back her up.

“Yeah. She’s right. We just want to help you,” he repeated after her. “We aren’t going to hurt you. If we wanted to, we probably would have by now, don’t you think so?”

You let out a tiny breath you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding and loosened your iron grip on your pistol.

He did make a fair point.

Now that your gun was pointed at the ground, he could have easily killed you. And yet, he’d made no move to blow your fucking head off. 

Maybe they really were good people.

But what if they weren’t?

What if it was just a trap?

You didn’t know what to fucking think.

All you knew was that you were so helplessly lost now that your family was gone.

You were afraid.

Alone.

Jessa turned back to you. “Listen, we’re part of a settlement,” she informed you. “It’s not all too far from here, maybe six or seven miles tops. We’ve got a really big group of people and we’re always looking to bring in anyone in need. Come with us, sweets. There’s plenty of food, water, and we can you into some fresh, clean clothes too. How does that sound?” 

You momentarily hesitated, still unsure whether or not you could trust the two strangers. 

How did it sound?

It sounded too fucking good to be true.

“It’s a safe place,” Mark assured you from behind her. He could see the reluctance written all over your face. 

“It’s as safe as safe can be,” Jessa promised. She touched your arm and flashed you another smile, one that was more kind than the first—one that was so comforting it made you feel like you could actually trust her. “So? What do you say? Will you come back with us? Will you let us help you?”

You nervously bit the inside of your cheek.

Scared, starving, and exhausted, their offer for a safe haven was much too tempting to decline.

Besides, how long could you possibly survive out here all on your own?

“Alright,” You finally agreed after a moment. “I’ll come with you.”

“There’s just one condition,” Mark stated, falling into step beside his sister in front of you. “We’re going to need you to hand over your weapon.”

“What?” You stared at him. “Why?”

“Oh, don’t worry. It’s protocol,” he said, waving a hand dismissively at you. “It’s purely for safety reasons. Anyone who comes into our group must surrender their weapons. We want to be sure that we’re bringing in someone who isn’t going to be a threat to our people. We have children, so we just want to be cautious, you know?”

“I guess that does makes sense,” You admitted. 

“You’ll get it back,” Jessa reassured you. “Once you speak to the council and they determine you aren’t a threat, you’ll get your gun back. Okay?”

Left with very little choice, you agreed. “Okay.”

Mark held out his hand for the weapon.

Slowly, you placed your pistol in his open palm.

“Perfect.” Jessa chirped. “Now grab your things and let’s get going. If we hurry up, we can make it back before nightfall.”

Nodding, you turned around to grab your pack. 

The second you turned your back, the barrel of the same gun you’d just handed to Mark poked you between your shoulder blades and you froze, your blood running cold in your veins.

“Hands up, bitch,” Jessa commanded. Her warm and friendly tone had vanished. “And turn around towards me slowly. Now.”

Terrified, you did as you were told and you lifted both of your hands, turning around on the heel of your sneaker to face her.

Her expression, much like her tone, was frigid.

Hostile.

“You’re going to do exactly as I say when I say it.” She held up her rifle, aiming it at you. “And if you don’t, you fucking die. Do you understand?”

“Please,” You choked out. “Don’t—”

“Do you fucking understand?” Jessa repeated in a hiss, her finger hovering over the trigger. When she was met with a small, meek nod, she turned to look at her brother. “Cuff her.”

Mark smirked. He tucked your gun away into the waistband of his jeans and reached into his back pocket, pulling out a pair of rusted handcuffs. He walked around and stood behind you, instructing, “Hands behind your back.” Once he had both of your wrists in one hand, he used the other to slip on the cuffs, tightening them so hard that the old oxidized steel dug painfully into your skin. “She’s a pretty one,” he murmured. As soon as he made certain the cuffs were securely fastened, he put a hand on your ass, groping it roughly. “Oh, you’re going to be popular with the guys, dollface. Kind of makes me want to break you in, right here and right now—give me a few minutes with her, Jess.”

Completely paralyzed with fear, all you could do was stand there in silence as his hands continued to roam your lower body, feeling you up through your jeans. He squeezed at your inner thigh, then brushed up over your zipper.

“Mark! That’s not what she’s for, you idiot,” Jessa reminded him, rolling her eyes. “Now quit fucking around and let’s start heading back to camp.”

She whirled around and started leading the way.

Mark grinned and pressed his mouth to your ear as he whispered in cruel reassurance, “Don’t you worry, now. I’ll get my chance with you—we’re all going to our chance with you.”

He grabbed you by your upper arm and roughly shoved you forward, leading you to what would inevitably be hell on earth.

Joel leans against the tree with his arms crossed over his chest. His dark eyes are fixed intently on you, carefully observing you from where he stands, more so out of concern rather than curiosity. Something isn’t right.

It’s late in the afternoon and the two of you had been about halfway into the six hour trek down south to Jackson when Joel offered to stop for a while, just long enough for the both of you to rest and take a quick breather, find a second wind before finishing the journey—but as he continues watching you, Joel starts to realize that perhaps stopping had done you much more harm than it’s done you good. 

Just a few feet away from where he’s standing and keeping a watchful eye on you, you sit perched on top of a small, flat boulder hugging your knees up to your chest with both hands wrapped tightly around the grip of your pistol. 

You’re in a trance like state, staring straight off into the distance at nothing in particular. Your face is completely blank. Emotionless. It appears that while all the lights are on, nobody is fucking home. 

Squinting against the sunlight, Joel takes a closer look at you. He sees it so clearly, the faraway look in your eyes. 

You are gone. You’ve checked out and completely disconnected from reality. 

He would go as far as saying you’ve disconnected from this fucking planet.

You’re sinking, slowly drowning in some kind of thought or perhaps it was a memory—whatever it is that’s currently preoccupying your mind, it sure as hell isn’t anything good. He has no fucking clue how he’d managed to clock it so easily, so quickly, but Joel had sensed something was wrong the instant you’d drifted off. 

The deeper you go and the further you lose yourself, the harder your hands clutch at your grin, the thin delicate skin on your knuckles stretching taught over the bones. It’s not until Joel notices the way your chest begins to rise and fall rapidly as your breaths quicken, the way you start struggling for air, that he knows it’s time for him to intervene before you worsen and suffocate under the weight of whatever it is that’s sitting so heavily on you. 

Pushing himself away from the tree, Joel begins to approach you, taking extra care so as not to spook you into turning your pistol on him and pulling the trigger in a moment of panic. He lifts both of his hands and holds them out in front of him. Cautiously, Joel makes his way over towards where you’re sitting on the boulder, his footsteps slow and careful. 

“Hey,” he calls out to you, keeping his tone firm, but somehow still gentle as he tries to garner your attention. When you don’t even acknowledge him or his presence, he tries again, speaking a little bit louder. “Hey. S’okay. S’alright. Everythin’ is alright—come on back now.” Joel draws closer and closer to you, taking tiny step after tiny step on the steel toes of his worn, black leather boots. “S’alright, darlin’. I need you to come back to me now, okay? You ain’t where you think you are. You’re alright—”

The sound of a twig snapping underneath his boot startles you. Jumping to your feet, you aim your gun at him with shaking hands and wild, terrified eyes. 

Even as your finger trembles over the trigger, Joel remains calm. “Hey, c’mon. Take it easy. S’okay. You’re alright. Look, it’s me. It’s just me and I ain’t gonna do anythin’ to hurt you,” he swears. He shows you his empty hands, hoping that you would be able to snap out of it and realize that he isn’t a threat. That you aren’t in any kind of danger. But as you hold your weapon, chest heaving as you panic, Joel knows it doesn’t matter that his hands are empty. It doesn’t make a fucking difference. He knows it isn’t him who is standing in front of you.

It’s someone else. Whoever you were seeing standing there in his place, it’s someone who had done god knows what to you. Joel has a gut wrenching hunch it had something to do with the marks he’d seen around your wrists back at the cabin. The mere thought of it is enough to send an unpleasant chill up and down the length of his spine. 

Joel speaks again. “I ain’t gonna hurt you.” He feels the sudden urge to reach out for you, but knowing it would be unwelcome, he resists it. All he can do is try and use his words to bring you back to the present. Back to him. “Breathe. You’re safe. I need you to breathe, can you do that for me? Do you think you can breathe for me, darlin’?”

Somehow, his voice penetrates its way in through the thickness of the white fog that you’d been lost in. You had been stumbling around helplessly in it, desperately searching for a way through. Joel’s heavy, deep Southern drawl permeates the memory, causing the haunting images from that fateful day when your life had taken a sharp turn for the worst to dissolve into nothing. 

“Just breathe. Nice and slow. Inhale through your nose, then out through your mouth. Easy does it.” Joel controls his own breathing, slowing it down to demonstrate. He inhales deeply through his nose and exhales slowly through his mouth. 

You stare at him with wide eyes as you fight to get the rise and fall of your chest to match his. How the hell do you know what to do? 

Joel can practically hear your question ringing in your mind amidst the chaos. “My kid, she gets these awful nightmares sometimes. Wakes up in a panic thinkin’ she’s somewhere else, somewhere she ain’t safe. So my brother’s wife, Maria, well she was kind enough to show me what to do whenever it happens. She taught me a couple different breathin’ techniques that help soothe Ellie and calm her down. Told me it helps if I do them with her,” he explains to you. He can tell that you’re now coming out of the worst of it and that you’re finally starting to get some oxygen back into your lungs. He lowers his hands. Your pistol is still aimed at him, but Joel trusted you enough to know that you wouldn’t pull the trigger and blow his fucking head off. “C’mon, breathe. There we go. That’s it. Easy does it, now. In through your nose and out through your mouth, that’s it. That’s a good girl.” 

It takes you a good minute or two, but your breaths fall into sync with his own and before you know it, the two of you are breathing together in harmony. 

Oh. You’re not in California.

The man standing before you doesn’t have red hair and green eyes. He doesn’t have that twisted smirk on his face. He isn’t putting his hands on you. He’s not hurting you. He’s helping you. 

Swallowing dryly, you lower your weapon. Your gaze meets Joel’s and somehow you find the courage to look him in his eyes for the very first time. Even though you had turned your gun on him, he doesn’t seem to be bothered by it all. He isn’t upset or angry. The look of worry on his face has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that you could have easily killed him just now. It’s as if he’d known for certain that you wouldn’t pull the trigger.

“There we go,” Joel says after another minute passes by. “You see? You’re alright. You’re safe.”

There’s comfort in his words, in his deep brown eyes.

Fuck, there’s comfort in him. 

Still. Your mind refuses to allow you to accept it.

At least, not completely. 

Averting your gaze, you shuffle your weight from one foot to the other and then back again. 

Joel clears his throat lightly. “It’s gettin’ real late,” he murmurs. “We should get a move on. We’ve still got a bit of a way to go and we really don’t wanna get ourselves caught out in the middle of fuckin’ nowhere after dark for too long, y’know?”

You give him a small nod and start to gather up your belongings. You pick up your canteen, which is now almost completely empty after you’d shared your water with him during the first leg of the hike, and shove it into one of the side pockets of your back.

“S’kinda cold,” Joel states. “And it’ll only get colder as nightfall approaches. You, uh—you warm enough in that little denim jacket?”

You shrugged a shoulder at him, not thinking anything much of the question. I’m fine. 

However, as if on cue, a chilly breeze blows its way through Wyoming’s plains, causing you to shiver.

Joel quickly shrugs out of his brown jacket. “You mind if I—?”

You toss him a confused glance. 

Do I mind if you what? 

Joel steps towards you and lifts his arms as if he’s going to put them around you. Flinching, every muscle in your entire body goes rigid and he halts. “S’alright. I’m just gonna give you my jacket, that’s all,” he assures you, his arms frozen midair. He patiently waits for a small nod of approval. Once he has it, he drapes his jacket over your shoulders and then takes several steps back, giving you your space. “Should keep you from freezin’ your ass off out here.”

As he turns around and walks over to where he had set his rifle down, you stand there somewhat stupefied over what he’d just done. Something so simple, and yet you can’t seem to wrap your fucking brain around it. 

Willing yourself to move, you carefully slide both of your arms into the sleeves of his jacket, wrapping it around your body. The scent of him, a mixture of earthy sandalwood and whatever soap he uses to wash his clothes, fills your senses and a strange, but pleasant warmth radiates throughout your chest, gradually spreading itself to the rest of your body from head to toe. 

Ignoring the feeling, you pick up your backpack along with your bow and quiver of arrows, slinging everything over your shoulders. 

Joel slings the strap of his rifle over his shoulder and turns back to you. “Ready to get goin’?”

Pistol in hand, you gesture for him to go ahead and walk in front of you, much like he’d done for the first half of the trip.

He lets out a small sigh. “Alright, I get it. Still don’t fully trust me. Well, we’ll keep workin’ on that, then.”

A couple of hours had gone by. The slanting rays of the setting sun give a warm orange tinge to the skies as late evening begins settling itself in. 

“Y’wanna know somethin’?” Joel asks, breaking the silence between you.

You look up at the back of his head, your eyes fixing themselves on his mop of thick, unkempt salt and pepper waves. Occasionally, as you’d been slowly trudging along behind Joel, you stole glimpses of the way his hair curled at the nape of his neck and brushed against the collar of his henley.

Despite the lack of a response, Joel continues to talk. “Earlier at the cabin, just when I was startin’ to come back around, I heard a woman singin’ to me. At least, it sure seemed like she was singin’ to me. It was a real pretty song too.” He glances over his shoulder at you with curiosity. “Was that you?”

You blink at him, keeping a straight face. 

“Hm, no I s’ppose it wasn’t you,” he answers his own question. He turns his attention back to the path ahead of him. “I reckon that it must have just been some sorta dream I had while I was out cold. But it sounded so vivid, y’ know? It sounded so fuckin’ real. And the strangest part of it all is that I don’t know how it’s even possible for me to dream of a voice like that,” he muses aloud. 

Oh? Unable to help yourself, you move yourself from behind Joel and fall into step beside him. Now it’s you that’s riddled with curiosity. What do you mean by that? 

Joel glances down at you. He grips the leather strap of his rifle and shrugs his shoulders. “Well, to be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever heard a voice quite like that in my whole entire life,” he tells you. He shrugs once more, his arm brushing against yours by accident. Joel half expected you to deck him for it, but much to his surprise, it doesn’t seem like his touch had bothered you. “It was too fuckin’ gorgeous. So beautiful that part of me wonders if it was someone or somethin’ out of this world.” He pauses and peered at you, detecting a slight glimmer of light in your eyes. “Felt like I had a real life angel singin’ to me.”

You feel the corners of your lips threatening to turn upwards into a smile. Turning your face away from him, it takes everything you had in you to force them back down. 

“Well look at that. You’re walkin’ right next to me,” Joel observes after a minute, raising an eyebrow. 

Your head whips back around.

“Must mean that I’m doin’ somethin’ right, huh darlin’?”

You snort and roll your eyes.

I think I liked it better when you weren’t talking.

Still, you remain at his side. 

The rest of the trek is silent.

Night had just fallen by the time that you and Joel finally made it to Jackson. The moment that you set your sights on the massive wooden gate out in the distance, your heart begins to pound, slamming against your ribcage.

The closer the both of you draw to the barrier, the easier it is for you to see the men and women who are standing on a platform on top of the gate, heavily armed as they keep watch—their lights illuminate the perimeter of the settlement and light up the velvet purple sky. 

You stop dead in your tracks. Oh fuck that.

Joel shakes his head. “S’alright. Don’t be scared.”

There’s six people standing on top of that gate armed with fucking assault rifles. And you don’t expect me to be scared? Are you for real?

“Look, things might be a little tense at first when the patrolmen see us,” he admits, raking a hand through his hair. “None of them have any idea that I’m still alive, but as soon as they see that it’s me, they’re gonna stand down. All I need is for you to stay calm and follow my lead, alright?” He nods at the pistol in your hand. “M’also gonna need for you to put your gun away and out of sight.”

You glare at him, your eyes flashing angrily in the darkness.

You said I could have my weapons on me. 

Joel holds up his hand. “I promise that I ain’t gonna let anythin’ bad happen to you, alright? I swear it on my fuckin’ life,” he vows. “You have my word. No one’s gonna hurt you. I won’t let them. Just stay calm and do as I say. Please,” he adds, a hint of desperation lacing his tone. “Y’think you can do that for me?”

Your mind is screaming, begging you to run and run fast. Instead, you find yourself reluctantly tucking your gun into the waistband of your jeans, concealing it just like Joel had asked you to do. 

“Stay behind me,” he instructs, shoving his own rifle behind him. He begins leading the way towards the gate and beckons for you to follow close. 

The second the two of you step out from the darkness and into the light, the sound of firearms cocking breaks through the silence of the night. 

“Stop right there!” A woman’s voice shouts. “Freeze! Or we’ll fucking shoot!”

“Melissa, it’s me!” Joel calls out, holding up his hands. “It’s Joel!”

“What?”

He huffs and yells again, “It’s Joel!”

“Wait a goddamn minute, everyone fucking stand down!” Melissa loudly barks the order at the five other patrol men and women who are standing on either side of her with their firearms aimed and at the ready. “Joel? Joel Miller, is that really you?” She leans her body forward over the gate and squints at him, letting out an incredulous laugh. “Well butter my fucking ass and call me a goddamn biscuit, the man is fucking alive! Quick, open up the gates! Somebody go and get Tommy! Let’s go, fucking move it people!”

Joel drops his hands, sighing in relief.

You, on the other hand, are scared shitless and wonder if it’s too late to make a run for it. 

“Remember,” he says, looking back at you. “Calm. Okay?”

You force a small, tight nod of your head. 

Okay. 

The gate’s doors pull apart and he leads you up to them and through to the other side where you and Joel are met with a frantic crowd of at least two dozen people—the obnoxious, overlapping chatter coupled with the blatant stares you’re receiving cause an overwhelming feeling of anxiousness to wash over you in a massive wave that, if you allow it, is going to drown you right there on the spot. Refusing to make eye contact with anybody, you fix your gaze on Joel, keeping it focused on the broadness of his back as more and more people circle around the both of you, caging you in with nowhere to run. 

“Joel!” Melissa elbows her way through the large crowd, rushing up to him. She grabs him by the arms, giving him a quick once over. “Holy shit! We thought you were fucking dead! I can’t fucking believe it!”

“Where’s Tommy?” Joel asks her.

“At home with Maria. Lisa went to pull him out of bed—where the hell have you been, Joel? It’s been three fucking days!”

Joel purses his lips together tightly. He can feel you inching yourself forward, trying to stand as close to him as possible as more people join the scene. The toes of your boots touch the heels of his, your chest lightly brushing against his back. While Joel doesn’t blame the people of the town for being curious, he isn’t all too fond of the way they’re staring at you—the gestures and the finger pointing, the mutters and the whispers. He doesn’t have to see you to know it’s making you uncomfortable, and his priority is to get you out of there and somewhere where you would feel safe. “Listen, it’s a real long story that I ain’t got time for right this minute. I need Tommy—”

“Miller!”

A loud, booming voice comes from behind Melissa.

It belongs to a tall, bulky blond haired man—his mere presence is intimidating, proven by how it had taken absolutely nothing for the crowd to part and make room for him to pass through. Smirking, he saunters up to Joel and remarks, “I thought you were a fucking goner.”

Joel’s jaw clenches, but he says nothing. 

The tension between the two men could be sliced with a fucking machete.

His blue eyes flit over Joel’s shoulder to you. “Well, well, well. Who is this sweet little lady?”

You step even closer to Joel, pressing yourself against his backside and taking a fistful of his shirt.

“None of your fuckin’ business, that’s who.”

Keith’s smirk widens. “Actually, as head of safety and security for this community, it fucking is my business,” he reminds him. “She infected?”

Joel raises his eyebrows. “Does she look fuckin’ infected to you?”

“You know the commune’s rules, Miller.” Without tearing his eyes away from you, Keith calls over his shoulder, “Bring out one of the hounds! Now!”

Behind him, Joel hears a small gasp.

Hounds?

Joel whirls around. “Hey, s’alright,” he says quickly before you can start to panic. “We have dogs that have been trained to sniff out the cordyceps infection. S’just gonna smell you, that’s all.”

The crowd backs away as a woman with cropped hair brings out a large black dog on a chain leash attached to a brown leather harness. Once it catches sight of you, the unfamiliar newcomer, the animal begins to bark and growl, thrashing around as it tries to lunge towards you. The dog tugs and pulls at his leash so violently that he nearly knocks his handler over. The woman unclips the leash and sets the dog free—it approaches you, snarling and baring its teeth. 

You start to back away, but Joel stops you.

“Relax,” he mutters to you under his breath. He moves to stand beside you and holds out his hand, offering it in an attempt to comfort you and ease the fear. He hadn’t expected you to accept it, so when you place your hand in his and lace your fingers with his own, he’s taken by complete surprise. 

You squeeze his rough, calloused fingers as the dog comes closer towards you. Nervously, you hold your other hand out to it, prompting it to snap at you, its teeth snapping together. Somehow, you muster enough courage to hold your hand steady and the animal growls, but then gives it a sniff. When it doesn’t detect what it’s searching for, the dog happily wags his tail and gives your hand a friendly lick before running back over to its handler who puts the animal back on the leash. 

You breathe out in relief. 

“There,” Joel snaps at Keith. “You satisfied?”

Keith clicks his tongue. “Almost,” he drawls. He walks over to you, another smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “What’s your name, dollface?”

Your stomach drops at the nickname. Looking down at the dirt, you don’t reply.

“Aw, she’s shy! Well isn’t that just adorable.” Keith lets out a raspy laugh, causing a couple of the onlookers to laugh along with him. “What’s the matter, sweetie pie? Hm? Cat got your tongue?”

Joel drops your hand, his nostrils flaring. “Back off asshole or else—”

Ignoring him, the blond patrolman eyes the weapon hanging on your shoulder. “That’s a really nice bow you’ve got there,” Keith states, cutting off Joel’s threat. “But we do have rules here. Newcomers have to surrender their weapons so they can be stored away securely. We don’t know you and until we can know for sure you won’t be a threat to the people of this town, you’re going to have to surrender that bow along with all other weapons you’re carrying.” Keith lowers his voice as he adds, “And I would advise you not to try and hide anything because I’m going to be the one to pat you down—and I’ll be thorough. I don’t take all too kindly to liars, so keep that in mind.”

“You just threaten her in front of me?” Trying his hardest not to cause a scene with so many people watching the three of you, Joel keeps his voice low and quiet—but the sharp, dangerous edge to his tone can’t be missed. 

“Of course I didn’t,” Keith responds, innocently. “All I was doing was letting her know how we work around here in Jackson. We’ve been operating the town the same way for years now for a good reason. The rules we set in place apply to any and all newcomers, regardless of who they came here with.” He holds out his hands to you. “Surrender all of your weapons to me. Now.”

Shaking your head, you take a step back. This was not what you’d agreed to. This wasn’t the promise that Joel had made you back at the cabin. 

Joel glares at him. “She ain’t surrenderin’ a goddamn thing—”

It’s too late.

Keith steps towards you and goes for the bow. As his hand shoots out to take it from your shoulder, you quickly turn your body and swiftly dodge it. He feels his face burn with red hot anger as several onlookers gasp at your act of rebelliousness. Furious, Keith reaches for you again and grabs you, taking the upper part of your arm in a harsh grip that makes you squeak out in pain. 

You lift your opposite arm and swing a curled fist up towards his face, but he catches your wrist in his other hand before it can connect with his jawline. 

Joel!

You try to say his name, but you fucking can’t. 

Your mouth opens and nothing comes out. For as hard you push and try to force it, you can’t find your voice. Instead, all that falls from your lips is a pathetic, strangled little cry. You yank and pull, struggling as you try to tear yourself out of Keith’s grasp. 

Livid, Joel nearly goes fucking blind with rage. He snatches Keith by the collar of his leather jacket, ripping him away from you. Though he’s still sore as from the fall off of his horse three days ago, he uses every ounce of strength he has left in him to throw him down into the dirt at the feet of a fellow patrolman named Wyatt. “Don’t. Fuckin’. Touch. Her.” He barely manages to bite out the words through gritted teeth. “Ever.”

Wyatt helps him up to his feet. “You alright, man?”

“Get the fuck off me!” Keith snarls, pushing him away. His chest is heaving and his face turns a deep shade of red. Whether it’s because he’s embarrassed or if it’s because he’s angry, no one can quite tell the difference. One thing is for damn sure, he isn’t used to someone going against his authority and everyone watching holds their breath, waiting to see what he’s going to do next. After all, the man going against him happened to be their leader’s brother in law. “What the fuck is your goddamn problem, Miller? It’s protocol—”

“Not today it ain’t.”

Keith approaches him, his hands curled into tight fists at his sides. He stands so close that the two of them are chest to chest, ready to tear each other to shreds. “Do you think just because your fucking brother is second in command, you can just do as you please? Is that it?” He questions, bitterly. “It doesn’t fucking work like that. We have rules set in place for a reason, Joel. We are going to do this by the fucking book whether your little girlfriend here likes it or not, got it?”

Stepping around him, he starts towards you but Joel is quick to block his path. He stands in front of you and squares his shoulders.

He speaks, his voice dangerously low. “You listen and you listen good. If you even so much as think about layin’ another fuckin’ finger on her, I’ll make sure you spend the rest of tonight pickin’ up your teeth off the ground. You understand me?”

“That a threat?”

“It ain’t a threat. It’s a fuckin’ promise.”

Keith pulls his arm back and he’s about ready to take a swing when he’s stopped by the sound of Tommy Miller’s frantic voice. 

“Joel! Where is he—where the fuck is Joel?”

The much younger, raven haired man approaches the scene, shrugging a blue denim jacket over his cotton white t-shirt. The instant that he spots Joel, he runs up to him and throws his arms around his shoulders. “Fuckin’ Christ, I thought I fuckin’ lost you out there! What the hell happened?”

“Where’s Ellie?” Joel demands. “She okay?”

“She’s fast asleep at my place with Maria and the baby. She’s been with us this entire time.”

Joel’s shoulders sag in relief.

Tommy looks around, frowning. “What’s going on? What’s everyone doin’ out here?” He then sees you and raises his eyebrows at his older brother. “Joel? Who’s that?”

“Look, I’ll explain everything, can we just—can we talk in private?”

Although he’s confused, Tommy nods. 

“Of course. C’mon, let’s go back to my place.”

“Well I’ll be damned,” Tommy states as soon as Joel had finished recounting the story—well, what he could remember, anyway. It wasn’t much.

You’re sitting beside Joel across the table from Tommy and Maria in the kitchen of their home. All three of them speak in quiet, hushed voices so as not to wake Ellie and Samuel, Tommy and Maria’s infant son. Maria had offered to go upstairs to pull Ellie out of bed so that she and Joel could reunite, but when Tommy mentioned tonight had been the first night since Joel had gone missing three days ago that she had finally managed to fall asleep, everyone agreed it would be best to wait until the morning. 

“So, she saved your life,” Tommy concludes. His brown eyes, even darker than those of his older brother, flicker over to you once again. You sit there in complete silence, staring at the top of the wooden table, refusing to meet his gaze—or that of his wife. 

Joel nods. “She did, Tommy. I don’t fuckin’ know how, but what I do know is that if it wasn’t for her, then I wouldn’t be sittin’ here at this table right now.”

You shuffle uncomfortably in your chair. Though the couple had been kind to you, it didn’t make it any easier when they stared at you like you had a second head. 

“She saved your life and you don’t even know her name?” Tommy’s in complete disbelief.

“No. She doesn’t talk.”

Maria hums. “I have an idea. Let me find her a notepad or something to write on,” she suggests after a minute. She stands up, wrapping her cotton blue robe around herself, concealing her pajamas as she walks over to the kitchen counter. It takes her a bit of digging around, but in one of her junk drawers, she finds a pen and a small notepad. She makes her way back over to the table and sets the items down in front of you. “Can you write down your name for us?”

You don’t move a single muscle.

“It’s okay, honey. Just write down your name—”

“Best we don’t push her too much,” Joel warns her, holding out his hand to stop her from coming too close into your space.

You glance up at him, your lips parting slightly.

“Don’t worry,” he tells you. “You ain’t gotta tell us anythin’ until you’re good and ready. Alright?”

Tommy clears his throat. “Joel? Can me and you have a quick word in private please?”

Your heart skips an anxious beat.

No, wait! Please don’t leave me.

Less than eight hours ago, you’d been wary of this man, unable to fully trust him. Now, just the mere thought of him leaving your side puts you on edge.

“S’fine, we’re just gonna be out in the hallway,” he assures you. “It’ll only be for a minute or two.”

Realizing you didn’t want to be left alone with her, Maria jabs a thumb over her shoulder towards the gas powered stove. “I’m going to make myself a hot cup of chamomile tea. I can boil water for an extra mug if you’d like some?” she offers, warmly.

You’d turned down food and water already, much too afraid to accept anything from her. However, a warm drink did sound tempting and truth be told, Maria did seem like a nice woman. She’s Joel’s family—maybe it wouldn’t hurt to at the very least try and trust her too. 

Finally, you nod your head.

“Great,” Maria smiles, looking pleased. “I think it’ll do you some good. Chamomile is very soothing. It helps me relax—something that’s hard to do when you have a fussy six month old,” she kids as she whirls around and goes about preparing the tea. 

After making certain that you’ll be fine without him, Joel follows Tommy out into the hallway. 

“Joel, what were you thinkin’ bringing her here?”

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

Tommy sighs. “We need to be careful about who we bring into Jackson—”

“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me right now? You worried about this girl bein’ a threat?” Joel stares at him in complete shock. “You serious, Tommy?”

“For all we know, she could be a threat. She didn’t want to give up her weapons, Joel! She even took a swing at Keith!” He hisses. “And she did it in front of a fuckin’ crowd!”

“He put his fuckin’ hands on her—”

“She didn’t cooperate, Joel. You know damn good and well what happens when someone isn’t willin’ to cooperate with the rules. It leads to nothin’ but trouble and you know it as well as I do,” Tommy says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Her first impression here wasn’t a good one. And to make matters a whole lot worse, we don’t know anythin’ about her. It’s a risk takin’ her into the community.”

Joel can’t even believe what he’s hearing. 

“So you’d rather I just left her out there alone?”

“Look Joel, we don’t know what she’s capable of,” Tommy reminds him, quietly. “If she’s managed to survive out there all on her own for this fuckin’ long, then who the hell knows what she’s done or what kind of blood is on her hands—you might be thinkin’ that she’s some helpless little victim, but maybe she’s not. Hell, we’ll never know because the girl can’t fuckin’ talk. Or maybe she just won’t talk. Either way, we’re runnin’ a huge risk by takin’ her in without knowin’ who the hell she is or where she came from.”

Joel glares at him. “Listen here, whether she can’t talk or just won’t talk, that doesn’t fuckin’ matter,” he says. He pauses briefly, long enough to take a peek back into the kitchen where you’re still sitting at the table. After she’d finished making the tea, Maria took the two steaming mugs and sat down in the chair beside you. She’s now trying almost desperately to get you to write down your name on the notepad. He immediately notices the way that you’d started wringing your hands together anxiously in your lap and he knows you’re debating in your mind whether or not you should reveal your identity to the stranger. He turns back to his brother with a frown. “She ain’t a helpless victim. She’s a survivor. She saved my fuckin’ life out there, Tommy. If it weren’t for her, I would be dead right now.”

“And where is she gonna stay?”

“With me and Ellie, of course.”

Tommy almost laughs. “Wait. You’re gonna be in charge of her? Someone who won’t fuckin’ talk to you? Whose name you don’t even know? Are you serious?”

Joel doesn’t even think twice about it. “Yeah.”

“Look Joel, I know you can be kind of a fuckin’ dumbass, but you can’t possibly be this goddamn dumb, big brother. Think ‘bout it—”

“I already have thought about it. She’s stayin’ with me.” Joel shrugs. “I know it ain’t gonna be easy, but maybe I can get her to trust me enough to talk to me.”

Tommy raises an eyebrow at him. “You really think she can talk and she’s just choosin’ not to?”

“I think she wants to talk, but she can’t. She’s too scared right now. But if I can get her to really trust me—”

“That girl ain’t gonna fuckin’ trust you, Joel.”

“She trusted me enough to come to Jackson,” he says, fiercely. “That has to mean somethin’, I just know it does.”

Tommy exhales a long and heavy sigh. He already knew just how fucking stubborn his brother could be. There’s no changing Joel’s mind once it was made up. 

Maria steps out into the hallway. “No luck,” she tells them, shaking her head lightly. “I can’t even begin to imagine what she’s been through. If she’s too terrified to even give us her name—”

“It must’ve been somethin’ real bad,” Joel finishes for her. He places his hands on his hips. “I think I might have some idea of what happened to her.”

“What do you mean?” she asks. 

Joel lowers his voice as he briefly tells Tommy and Maria about the scars he’d seen around your wrist. “Like she’s been in handcuffs or somethin’,” he murmurs. “Think it could’ve been FEDRA?”

“Possibly.” Maria thinks it over for a moment. “There’s also a good possibility that she’s been a prisoner in a slave camp.”

Slavers.

Joel’s stomach churns at the thought of it. He’d heard about those kinds of groups, about the cruel and inhumane things they did to their prisoners. 

He fucking hoped that wasn’t it. But something in his gut told him not to be so goddamn naive. 

“Listen, we feel for the girl, Joel. We do,” Tommy admits. “And we’re willin’ to give her some time to adjust, same as we did with you and with Ellie—same as we do with all newcomers. But regardless of what she’s been through, she’s still gonna need to pull her weight around here, just like the rest of us. She’s expected to take on work duty just like everybody else. It’ll be hard findin’ the right job for her if she’s not gonna talk to anyone so the sooner you can get her to break her silence, the better it’ll be,” he advises. He points a finger at his brother. “From this point on, she’s your responsibility.”

“I can handle it, Tommy.”

“For your sake, I really hope you can.”

“Good to know you’ve got faith in me,” Joel makes the sarcastic comment under his breath, but he’s certain Tommy had heard it. “It’s gettin’ pretty late now. She’s exhausted and so am I. M’gonna take her back to my place and get her settled in for the night.”

“What ‘bout Ellie?”

“Best she just stays here with you two tonight. As soon as she’s up in the mornin’, you can bring her on over to mine if that’s alright with you and Maria?”

Tommy nods. “You got it, brother.”

“Besides, I figure it’ll give me a bit of extra time to think of how I’m gonna explain everythin’ to her.” Joel suddenly realizes that he hadn’t given much thought about how he was going to tell Ellie about you—how he was going to explain your condition to her and how you’d be sharing a roof with them from this point on. 

Tommy chuckles. “Yeah, good luck with that one.”

Rolling his eyes, Joel roughly shoves past him and back into the kitchen. 

You hadn’t drank the tea Maria had made you, but you’d wrapped your hands around the ceramic red mug to warm them up. 

“C’mon,” he beckons to you with his hand. “Let’s go. M’gonna take you home now.”

Home. 

The word rinds oddly in your ears.

You stand up from the table.

“Wait.” Maria picks up the notepad and pen, handing them over to you. “Here. Take these with you. Just in case you decide you want to use them.”

Joel pushes through the front door, switching on the lights in the foyer of his home before stepping aside to let you in. He watches as you stand there at the door looking rather apprehensive. “It’s okay, darlin’. S’just me and you here tonight.”

Carefully, you step over the threshold. When was the last time you’d even set foot in an actual house? One with running water and electricity?

You couldn’t remember.

Joel shuts the front door behind you and locks it. “Let’s go upstairs.” He gestures for you to follow him up the cherrywood staircase. “It’s pretty late, so I’ll show you the rest of the house tomorrow in the mornin’,” he promises you over his shoulder. At the top of the staircase, Joel switches on more lights that illuminate a short hallway. He points to a door at the end of it, stating, “That one there at the end, that’s mine. This one here is Ellie’s. We also have a third spare, it’s right across from her.” He nods with his head towards the door of the bedroom he’d been referring to. “Go on. Open it up and check it out for yourself.”

You want me to open the door?

Seeing your expression, Joel chuckles. “Go on. It’s alright. There’s nothin’ bad in there. I promise.”

You momentarily hesitate. Fingers trembling, you reach out and grasp the brass door knob, slowly turning it and pushing the door open. You peek inside and flip the light switch next to the door frame.

You gasp. Holy shit, is this fucking real?

The spare bedroom is fully furnished with light oakwood furniture—a dresser up against one wall, a desk nestled in the corner, and two nightstands on either side of the most comfortable, full sized bed that you’d ever seen. The décor is minimal, but whoever had occupied the space before had a clear adoration for simple, warm, earthy tones. You nearly smile at the shades of mud brown, forest green, and autumn orange. Setting your things down on the hardwood floor, you make your way over to the bed and sit down, planting your hands firmly on either side of you. You relish in the softness of the cream colored duvet comforter. 

“I’m guessin’ you like it.” Joel can’t help but grin a little. “I’ll be right back. I’m gonna go see if I can get you one of my shirts or somethin’ that you can sleep in. Make yourself comfortable.” He spins around on the heel of his boot, disappearing into the hallway. 

Unable to resist, you lay back onto the bed. Your body sinks into it, melting right into the mattress. It feels like a fucking cloud. 

Joel reappears in the room just seconds later. “I can see you took what I said about makin’ yourself comfortable quite literally.” His voice causes you to shoot back up into a sitting position. Joel stands there at the door holding a long sleeved, navy and white flannel shirt in one hand—in the other, he’d been holding a gray hooded sweatshirt and from his arm swings a brown canvas tote bag. “Not too sure what you would prefer to sleep in. I figured you might want somethin’ on the warmer side. Here’s a couple options to choose from. I’ve also got t-shirts if you’d rather sleep in one of those.”

Standing up from the bed, you walk over to him and he holds out the articles of clothing for you to see better. It’s his flannel you gravitate to the most. Taking it from him, you run your fingers over the fabric.

“I can throw your clothes in the washing machine for you first thing tomorrow so they’ll be clean by the time you wake up,” he adds.

You breath out shakily.

A fucking washing machine.

“Overwhelming, ain’t it?”Joel drapes the hooded sweatshirt over a nearby chair, deciding to leave it for you as well. “Trust me, I get it. I felt the same when I first got here with Ellie. It took a lot of time for the both of us to adjust to this new way of life after being out there for so long,” he confesses to you. “The important thing is to take it one step at a time, darlin’. And somethin’ is tellin’ me the next step for you is probably takin’ a nice hot shower?”

Your mouth falls open. A hot shower? Hot?

“You’ll have to share a bathroom with Ellie.” Joel leads you out of the bedroom and to another door adjacent to yours. He shows you the bathroom, telling you which knob in the shower was for hot water and which one was for cold water. “You can use Ellie’s shampoo, m’sure she won’t mind. I’d offer you some of my own, but I don’t think you’ll wanna walk around smellin’ like sandalwood and spice.” Joel hands you the canvas bag he’d had draped over his arm. “Here. Should be pretty much everythin’ you’re gonna need. There’s a bar of soap, a couple clean washcloths, a toothbrush, and a tube of toothpaste. There’s also a razor.” He pauses. “It’s a men’s razor, one of mine I’ve never used, but I reckon it does the job just the same as a woman’s razor.”

Amused, you quirk an eyebrow at him. What the hell are you trying to say? That I need to shave?

“Not that you have to use it,” he adds quickly, his cheeks burning bright red at what you thought he had been insinuating. He shifts awkwardly from boot to boot. “I tossed it in there just in case you’d want to, but you ain’t gotta use it, that’s not what I meant at all—”

Deciding you don’t want to see him squirm, you lift a hand up to stop him and shake your head.

Truth be told, you actually couldn’t fucking wait to shave your legs.

Calm down, cowboy. It’s all good.

Realizing he hadn’t offended you, Joel relaxes. “I’ll let you get to your shower. You take as long as you want, but just try and leave some hot water for me since I’m next,” he chuckles. “As soon as we both get all cleaned up, we can meet downstairs in the kitchen for a quick bite to eat before bed. Deal?”

Deal.

He’s about to leave you to it when you stop him, grabbing his arm. Wait a second, Joel.

Joel’s eyes meet yours. “Yeah?”

Thank you.

Your gratitude might have been silent, but it was there and he knew it. 

Feeling brave, Joel reaches up and places his hand over yours for a moment, his thumb brushing against the softness of your skin. “No need to thank me, sweetheart.” 

Letting his hand drop away from yours, Joel then turns and leaves the bathroom, closing the door behind him to give you your privacy. 

Once you have the hot water running, you kick off your boots and start to peel off your clothes, tossing them into a pile on the floor near the door. Completely naked, you turn your back towards the oval shaped mirror hanging over the bathroom sink, unwilling to take a look at the scars on your body—painful reminders of the cruel punishments you’d endured during your time in captivity. 

You grab the toiletries from the tote bag Joel had given you and set them on the side of the tub. Pulling the yellow floral curtain aside, you step into the shower and position yourself directly underneath the scalding hot water, letting it burn your skin to give you an entirely different kind of pain to think about, even if it was just for a minute until your body adjusted to the temperature of the water and it no longer hurt. 

You begin washing yourself, trying your hardest to keep from crumbling. But you couldn’t. Lump in your throat and a tightness in your chest, tears brim your eyes, ready to fall. 

You’re willing to let them. 

Two years. For almost two fucking years, you had been suppressing your emotions. You’d been in a constant survival mode, there had been no time to feel anything. And now here you were, standing in a fucking shower with all the freedom in the world to just let it all out. 

Silent sobs wrack your body, bringing you down onto your knees. 

Joel’s shower had been a quick one.

You hadn’t left him very much hot water—but he couldn’t even be mad about it.

He pulls on a pair of light gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt. He haphazardly dries off his hair and makes his way downstairs, knowing you would be heading down there any minute now to meet him like you’d agreed. Without much time to make a proper meal for you to eat, Joel goes about the dimly lit kitchen and prepares a couple of cold turkey sandwiches. He’d just plated them and set them on the table when the soft padding of bare feet on the hardwood floor prompts him to look up. 

His breath catches in his throat. You stand there in the doorway wearing nothing but his flannel shirt. The hem of it falls to the middle of your thighs, and it takes everything in him not to think about the fact that you weren’t wearing anything under his shirt. His fucking shirt.

Clearing his throat lightly, he makes sure not to let his gaze wander where it’s not supposed to. “I bet you feel a lot better, don’t you?”

You sigh softly. Oh, you have no fucking idea.

Noticing you’re holding your hands behind your back, Joel shoots you a puzzled look. “What’cha got there?”

You bring your arms forward. Clutched in your hands is the notepad and pen that Maria had given you.

Although he takes it as a sign that you are willing to communicate with him, Joel knows better than to get too far ahead of himself. He’d wait until you were ready to make the first move and he’d follow your lead. “I made you a sandwich to eat,” he tells you, pulling out a chair at the table. “C’mon, come have a seat.”

After you sit down, Joel goes over to the sink and fills two glasses of water, one for you and one for himself. Setting them down on the table, he finally takes a seat across from you—that’s when he notices the redness in your eyes. You’d been crying. Even though he wants to ask you if you’re alright, Joel decides against it for the time being and the two of you eat in comfortable, tranquil silence.

“I can make you another one if you’re still hungry,” Joel offers when you polish off the last couple bites of your sandwich. 

Shaking your head, you place your hands on your belly signaling that you’re full. You’re not, though. You’d eagerly scarf another three of them down if you could, but you were a lot more exhausted than you were hungry and you couldn’t wait to crawl into that bed upstairs and get some sleep.. 

Joel studies you. “You okay, darlin’?”

You shrug. This has just been a lot to process.

“I know it’s gonna be tough for you. It’s like I told you earlier, it’s gonna take some time to adjust to your new life here in Jackson. But I need you to know you ain’t alone anymore. I’m gonna be here to look out for you. And trust me, I know you don’t really need me to.” Joel pauses and shoots you a crooked little grin. “Hell, you took a swing at Keith. You’ve got bigger fuckin’ balls than half of the men in this town. Includin’ myself.”

You let out a huff of amusement from your nose and the corners of your mouth tug into a small smile—you don’t try to force it down. 

Joel blurts the words before he can even think to stop himself. “You’ve got a real nice smile, y’know.”

Biting down on your bottom lip, you move your empty plate off to the side and grab your pen and notepad. You swiftly scribble something onto the blank page, then slide it across the table to Joel. 

He picks it up, an odd sensation fluttering inside his chest when he realizes what you had done.

You’d written down your name for him.

He says it out loud, and then looks up at you.

“That’s a real beautiful name.” Sincerity drips from his tone, going hand in hand with his compliment.

Cheeks burning, you glance down at your hands, which you’d begun wringing together on top of the table. It was out of nervousness, but this kind was different. You couldn’t quite explain it. 

“I know it’s gonna take a whole lot more than a hot shower and a sandwich to get you to trust me. But I swear that I’m gonna do whatever I can to show you that you ain’t got anythin’ to be afraid of. Not with me around. Okay?”

Okay. 

You open your mouth, trying to repeat the word back to him. 

Joel’s eyes widen slightly. You wanted to talk to him—you were actually trying to talk to him. But it was a clear struggle. Something wasn’t letting you find your voice. 

Clamping your mouth shut, you sigh and sink back into your chair. I’m sorry. I can’t.

“It’s okay,” he says, softly. “We’re gonna take this one step at a time. Together.”

[gojoacedia]

When you first heard of this mysterious villain named Dabi with flames more powerful than Enji’s, it was hard not to connect the dots. You thought about Touya almost every day, years later. If Dabi was in the League of Villains, they might still be targeting UA. It was not unlike you to pull strings when it came to the hero scene, and the wild wild pussycats just so happened to slip that UA would be training on their land. You naturally volunteered to train with them.

Training high schoolers was no easy feat, especially when you’re addicted to drugs. It was the second night of camp, during the courage test, when you decided to sneak out for a quick cigarette and joint. No one would notice you were gone. You just needed to sneak out far enough so no one would smell anything.

The high schoolers were loud enough that you felt comfortable trudging through the forest relatively loudly. Once you found a nice open clearing you finally brought out your two treats. You put them both in your mouth to hold as you searched frantically for your lighter.

“Need a light?” Your head snapped up at the voice coming from the forest. Then you saw his figure appear. He was so much taller than when you last saw him. His skin was stapled together and his hair was dyed black. But when you got closer there were no more doubts in your head. The way he smelled was still the same. The way his eyes looked never changed.

“Touya?” You whispered when you got close enough, taking the joint and cigarette out of your mouth and completely invading his personal space to look at his eyes. His eyes looked shocked but his face remained stoic. Then you saw blood seeping from the staples under his eyes.

“Hi doll,” was the only thing he said, wiping the blood from his cheek with his thumb. With his other hand, he took the cigarette and joint from you. “If you’re just gonna stare at me and not smoke these I would be happy to take over,” he said while lighting the cigarette first with his flames. His fire was a shade of orange, probably colder than his usual flames so he didn't incinerate the tobacco before he could smoke it. He took a few puffs, blowing the smoke to the side of you so he could still see your face.

You couldn’t help the tears that were flowing down your cheeks. You quickly wiped them away before snatching your cigarette from him and hitting it yourself. He began to light the joint next. Once he got it lit you snatched that too from him. He tried to grab it back.

“You don’t get to smoke my bullshit before apologizing to me,” you hissed at him, alternating between the cig and the joint so neither went out. His face turned sour. “What the fuck do you want me to apologize for? Dying? Being in a coma for three years?” He got closer and closer to you and you continued to back up, eventually running into a tree and getting cornered. The joint and the cig were long out and tears started to run down your face.

“I-I didn’t know Touya I thought you left me, I needed you so bad Touya,” your crying turned into sobbing. “You have no idea what you did to me,” you sobbed, and although you were unable to see very well through your tears, you could see more red stains on his cheeks. He always was a crybaby. Touya grabbed you from off of the tree you were up against and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. His fingers tangled in your hair, his smell, and his body heat were enough to calm you immediately.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry,” he whispered into your hair after kissing the crown of your head.

[theemporium]

your mai tai (1) with luke hughes?

BTW congrats on 10k!! you deserve it so much💐

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

1.touching foreheads

.

It had felt like a lifetime had passed since Luke had last seen you. 

It was actually six weeks but that was besides the point. 

He thought he would be fine. He thought time would pass quickly and the six weeks would pass in the blink of an eye. He thought he would be busy with his own summer plans in the lakehouse with his brothers and his friends that he wouldn’t have time to really miss you. 

It took a week into the summer break for him to realise his plan was absolute bullshit and he missed you a pathetic amount. 

Despite not joining the Devils until last season, Luke had met the team a fair amount over the years since Jack had been drafted. He had met Nico a fair amount of times. And in turn, he had met Nico’s little sister—you—a handful of times too. 

When Luke joined the Devils, he had no intention of falling in love with his captain’s sister but it was funny how the universe seemed to work.

However, between the two of you playing around your feelings and trying to deny the inevitable, it meant that you had only been dating for a few months by the time summer break came along. The relationship was still new and exciting and fresh—and it was vulnerable. You two had spent so long sabotaging the time you had together, and now you were going to be apart for almost two months. 

You wanted to go back home to Switzerland to see your family and friends. Luke wanted to do the same in Michigan. It had been a fairly easy decision to spend the summer apart, but it didn’t make either of you feel all too happy about the situation. 

Nor did it make any of Luke’s friends or family happy when the boy had spent the summer pathetically pining after you, pouty and angsty whenever he got the chance. By week three, everyone was counting down the days until you returned to Jersey. 

And the day had finally come. 

Luke had jumped at the chance to pick you up from the airport. You assured him you didn’t mind getting a taxi, that your flight landed at a god-awful time and you didn’t want to disturb his routine too much before training camp. He had just snorted and rolled his eyes in response. 

Now, it was somewhere after two in the morning, he was dressed in sweats and a hoodie and his body was practically buzzing on excitement and pure adrenaline as his eyes watched the arrivals gate like a hawk, waiting to see you. 

It felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest when he finally saw you. 

His feet were moving before he even realised, his eyes glued on your as he dodged through the group of other passengers before he finally reached you. He wound his arms around your body, pulling you as close as he could like he was scared you would disappear again. 

“I missed you so much,” he managed to murmur out, his eyes falling shut as he felt your arms wind around his torso, squeezing him close too. 

“Missed you too,” you whispered back, pulling back enough to see his face even though the boy whined a bit at the loss of contact. Your lips twitched upwards. “Jack wasn’t lying about you being whiny while I was gone.” 

Luke rested his forehead against yours, his arms still wrapped around you. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Mhm,” you smiled up at him, playfully nudging your nose against his. “Let’s go home, I’m so tired I could pass out here.” 

His heart skipped a beat. “Home?” 

Your cheeks flushed but you didn’t look too embarrassed. “Yeah, Hughes, home. Preferably a bed. I missed sleeping next to you.” 

His smile widened. “Sounds perfect to me.”

Someone cleared their throat from behind them both. 

“You both know I’ve been standing here the whole time, right?” Nico deadpanned. “Luke’s my ride too.”

.

[demigod-shenanigans]

The choiceless hope in grief

Summary: Leo Valdez has lived and died for the gods. Their war has shaped his life since he was a baby. With Gaia defeated, he sort of hopes he can finally rest. He has friends and some semblance of home to return to for the first time since he was eight years old. Just this once, he allows himself to hope the good things might stick.

But the gods aren’t done with them just yet, by the time Leo finds his way back, Jason is gone.

This time, Leo decides he’s done just taking the Fates’ bullshit lying down. If getting his best friend back means striking a deal with the gods and venturing into the Underworld… well, it’s probably not even the most reckless thing he’s ever done.

The caveat of said deal? He has to trust Jason will follow him, or his self-doubt will doom them both.

And after the life he’s lived, Leo is so intricately familiar with self-doubt that he could probably trademark the word.

Or: The only possible way for Orpheus to succeed is if he learns to think of himself as a person worth loving.

Word Count for chapter 1: ~5k

Rating: Teen and Up

So! *claps hands together* I’ve been threatening you guys with my Orpheus Eurydice valgrace fic for a while! Technically I wanted to wait to post this until I’m completely done writing the fic, and I mostly intend to stick to that! I’m only posting this now because I have a minor surgery tomorrow and I’d rather be anxious about fic related things than about the surgery in question. So, take this chapter as a preview of sorts, more to come soon-ish but probably not immediately!

A couple of important notes before we start:

-TW for suicidal ideation. It’s less Leo actually wanting to die and more his canon behavior of “I’m doing something extremely reckless that might succeed but if it doesn’t, my death is an acceptable consequence”, paired with general grief related self-loathing, but if you think you’re not in the right headspace to read about that, come back when you are or at least tread carefully. This fic pics up at the end of The Burning Maze, so especially the beginning is pretty heavy on the grief stuff.

-Since ToA is vaguely canon to this fic, Leo and Calypso are technically dating in the beginning, but they don’t really interact positively as a couple (honestly they don’t interact that much in general) and break up pretty early on. Just be aware in advance that they’re still together for a little bit.

-Fic title is from Talk by Hozier which is maybe a painfully obvious pick but it was too perfect for me not to use it.

Chapter 1: Leo and Piper have an extended sleepover

It wasn’t a discussion between Leo and Piper whether or not to go to Jason’s funeral. They came to the decision that they wouldn’t silently—or as silently as one could come to an agreement when all parties involved were sobbing.

Maybe it should have been a discussion. There was a part of Leo that worried he’d regret this later—his refusal to take this chance to say goodbye and let himself grieve.

But Leo remembered his mother’s funeral. Remembered the way his aunt Rosa had looked at him like she knew his mother’s death had been his fault. Leo couldn’t stand the thought of people looking at him like that again.

He also didn’t remember his mother’s funeral bringing him any sense of closure or comfort. He’d stood at her grave, afterwards, just as desperate and afraid and utterly inconsolable as he’d been before the funeral, except it had suddenly felt sickeningly final. The wound it had torn in his soul had kept bleeding for years, and the scars would stay forever. He didn’t need any of Apollo’s shitty oracles to know Jason’s death would be exactly the same.

At this point, Leo was pretty sure his sanity was being held together by a combination of jokes and a truly questionable amount of duct tape.

Beyond all that, though, Camp Jupiter was a battlefield right now. It would continue to be a battlefield for the foreseeable future.

Leo wasn’t a coward. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go back and help. But one of his best friends was already in a box, and there was no way in hell he’d risk the other.

With how tightly Piper was clinging to him, maybe she was thinking the same thing. 

For all his big talk about dragon escorts, Festus did most of the actual escorting on his own, occasionally torching what Leo hoped were monsters and not random public monuments. Leo, for his part, spent most of the journey crammed into the backseat of the car next to Piper, sandwiched between her and a bunch of moving boxes that seemed determined to flatten him into a Leo-shaped pancake whenever they took a sharp turn.

He’d spent so long thinking about seeing her and Jason again. 

He’d talked Calypso’s ear off about them the whole journey, to the point where it had clearly started to annoy her. He’d thought about various ridiculous entrances he could make, and the fact that he’d probably get yelled at, but he’d also thought about sitting together by the campfire, sharing nachos. He’d thought about Jason hugging him so fiercely that he couldn’t breathe, and Piper cussing him out while she held him, making him promise never to do anything that reckless again.

Now Piper was actually holding him, and Leo couldn’t feel anything. There was a numbness in his chest. He wasn’t sure he had it in him to ever feel happiness again. Hell, even if he did, what was the fucking point? Every time anything even remotely good happened in his life, it got ripped away from him again.

They didn’t talk a whole lot for most of the drive. They cried until it felt like they couldn’t anymore, clinging to each other like desperate children.

Even if they’d wanted to talk about what had happened, Piper’s dad was right there, and despite the Mist usually working overtime for them, having him overhear seemed like a gamble. Or, well, maybe that was what Leo told himself. Maybe he just wasn't sure he was ready to hear it all. He still felt like he couldn’t think. He was overwhelmed to hell and couldn’t stop fidgeting.

Several hours into the trip, his stomach started grumbling. Piper dug through the bag at her feet and offered him one of her PB&J sandwiches, but Leo couldn’t eat. He hadn’t skipped a meal in forever—he’d been homeless and unsure when he’d even get access to the next meal enough times that it had been all but tattooed into his skull that he couldn’t afford to—but he couldn’t even think about eating without feeling sick. He thought about Jason. He thought about the state he’d left Camp Jupiter in and the fact that they hadn’t even been able to give the dead their proper funeral rites.

Had Leo’s help made any difference at all? Had anything he’d done in his life changed things even slightly?

Leo knew the Fates had intended for it to be fire that fell—for him to burn in a bright, hot blaze and turn himself to charcoal. But he’d refused to stay dead like a good little pawn, and now Jason was gone, and it was all his fault.

He wasn’t sure how Piper could even look at him right now, but he was beyond grateful that she was holding onto him as tightly as she did. It was the only reason he didn’t fall to pieces completely. The cog at the heart of Leo’s machine had broken in a way that made it utterly beyond repair, and now it felt like a matter of time before the whole thing came apart. Piper holding him was the only reason his remaining pieces were still functioning. 

It should have been impossible for Leo to fall asleep under these circumstances, but he’d been traveling for hours and fighting before then and he’d cried out his remaining energy, so eventually, the world started to fade around him, reduced to just the sound of Piper’s breaths, until finally, those went, too.

~~~~

It would have been kinder, maybe, if Leo had dreamed up some shitty visions promising violent death and/or the end of the world. That would have been business as usual. 

Instead, he dreamed of his time on the Argo II—of one of those early nights when the different groups were still getting to know each other, having a brief moment to breathe between their ridiculous tasks and saving the world. 

It had seemed reasonable to catch each other up on what had happened on their end. Percy, Hazel and Frank had talked about rescuing Thanatos, and Piper, Jason and Leo had told them what had happened with Hera in turn. 

This would have been a boring intel conversation at best, seeing as Leo had been there for all of their part, but they’d grabbed snacks and sat on cushions on the floor and made it a whole bonding activity. Jason had been wedged between Piper and Leo, and they’d taken turns storytelling. 

And Jason had bragged. So much. But he hadn’t even had the decency to brag about himself like a normal human being. Instead, he’d talked about how capable Piper and Leo had been, somehow managing to make Leo sound like the coolest person he’d ever met. Which was ridiculous, considering he’d met everyone else on their team.

And sure, Leo made it sound like he thought he was amazing all the time, but he was exaggerating, which everyone, himself included, knew. 

Jason didn’t seem to have gotten the memo, though. He had one arm wrapped around Leo the whole evening, and he got all starry-eyed when he talked. 

“Leo took on three Cyclopes by himself. Three!”

“Dude, stop!” Leo had laughed, shaking his head. “I know I’m incredible and you’re blessed to be friends with me and stuff, but you weren’t even conscious for that part.”

“Still happened, though.” Jason had beamed at him. “You’re amazing, dude. I would have died about fifteen times on that mission if it hadn’t been for you. You guys should’ve seen him.”

It would have been easier if Leo had thought Jason was just trying to talk him up to the others to make them more willing to trust him after how badly he’d messed up in New Rome, but Jason wasn’t the type. He’d looked like he honestly believed every single word he was saying.

So, of course, Leo had refused to seriously deal with any of the things that made him feel.

“Sorry, Pipes, but I’m pretty sure your boyfriend is in love with me. It’s the fire powers, I’m afraid. I’m just too hot to resist,” Leo had joked instead, and Piper had untangled herself from Jason’s other side to throw Doritos at Leo, and everything had been right in the universe.

~~~~

Waking up from that, blearily blinking himself awake in the car full of moving boxes and remembering… that was a worse punch in the gut than waking up from most nightmares had been. And Leo should know. He’d had so many of those over the years that he was basically a certified nightmare expert at this point.

Leo wanted to go back in time and spend forever in that one evening, living it over and over and over again until the Fates or a temporal paradox or something eventually killed him. He wanted to hold on to what they’d been back then—the three of them together and happy and whole,back before they’d realized what the prophecy really meant. 

He wanted to stay wrapped in Jason’s arm and hear him laugh at whatever stupid joke Leo came up with while he and Piper threw snacks at each other like ten year olds. He wanted to believe he could actually be the person Jason was bragging about—this invincible hero that could do just about anything and saved people’s lives.

But Leo had never been that hero. Even his sacrifice had been the selfish decision of a coward who wasn’t ready to die just yet. Jason had been their Superman. The guy who could fly and threw lightning and saved people from falling to their deaths. Jason had been the hero. And ultimately, that had been what killed him.

Leo wasn’t exactly sure what he planned to do once they got to Oklahoma. He should have been heading back to the Waystation, to give Calypso the normal life he’d promised. But he wasn’t thinking about Calypso, or the Waystation, and the thought of a normal life had gone out of the window the second he’d seen the coffin. Besides, the Waystation would mean people asking questions, wanting to know about his mission and asking him to talk about his feelings, and he didn’t want that.

The only thing Leo really wanted to do right now was not think. 

By the time they got to the house, it was so late that cross-country dragon flight seemed inadvisable for visibility reasons alone, so Leo agreed to stay the night. Festus nuzzled him for a bit, got a fuel snack from the canister Leo had brought and then folded down into his million pound suitcase form for the night.

It took a little under two hours to carry all the boxes inside, which was an annoying amount of time to be carrying boxes but seemed like an absurdly short amount to move the contents of an entire life.

They spent some time in search of the necessities that needed to be unpacked, but the house was still furnished and also had running water and electricity as of a few days ago, so it wasn’t that bad.

While Piper went in search of some ancient camping gear so Leo wouldn’t have to sleep on the floor—this seemed silly to him, the floor was far from the worst place he’d ever slept—Leo asked Piper’s dad if he could help with dinner. 

Tristan looked relieved at his offer, actually. He’d been staring at the assorted vegetables with a slightly lost expression, trying to hack at one of the zucchinis with a butter knife. It seemed like he was trying to remember how cooking worked and had just discovered he had absolutely no idea. 

Considering how long he’d been an insanely rich guy with a personal cook, Leo guessed that actually might have been a pretty accurate read on the situation. 

“You might want to try a sharper knife,” Leo suggested, which made Piper’s dad look absolutely mortified. “Try not to chop off any of your fingers, though. I think Piper’s been traumatized enough for one week.”

The words were out of his mouth before Leo could think to stop them. Tristan didn’t laugh, but at least it didn’t seem like he’d be tossing Leo out of the house over this. Maybe he realized people sometimes said stupid shit when they were grieving. Maybe Piper had just warned him in advance that Leo was like this sometimes.

Tristan just went to find a different knife, which would have maybe been concerning if he hadn’t gone back to hacking at the vegetables a moment later.

“Well, at least this one is actually cutting through the zucchinis. That’s already an improvement.”

“Yeah, I’m basically a cooking expert,” Leo said with a grin, only half-joking. He went to peel and chop up the carrots, and was done with those and about half the mushrooms by the time the poor zucchini had been hacked to bits.

“You and Piper went to school together, right?” Tristan asked after a while of them quietly chopping vegetables for the casserole, trying to make sense of things with information he didn’t have and that, judging from past evidence, probably would have made his skull crack. “You and her and Jason.”

“Yeah. We went to Wilderness school together.” Leo winced, trying not to think too hard of Jason while also trying to remember the lies they’d already told Piper’s dad. At this rate, he was pretty worried his own skull would crack, too. “Then all three of us switched to a different school. Then I was gone for a while.”

Tristan nodded like this made perfect sense, though he mostly seemed lost in thought. That was a little rude, in Leo’s opinion. If he went through all that effort to remember their elaborate setup of lies, the least Piper’s dad could do was appreciate it!

“I’m glad you’re here now, with everything that’s happened. Piper was really upset when you left,” Tristan said, still with that faraway look in his eyes. “The last few months were hard for her. Between the move and the breakup, she really could have used a friend.”

Leo promptly lost all rights to make fun of Piper’s dad and his vegetable chopping skills because at the word ‘breakup’, the knife slipped and he nearly sliced off two of his fingers.

“Fuck! Ow!” he said eloquently, trying to avoid bleeding all over the cutting board in his attempt to get to the sink. “Jason and Piper broke up?”

The question sounded absurd even to his own ears. Why would Jason and Piper break up? They’d been happy together.

Surely, Piper’s dad had to be talking about something else.

To Leo’s shock, Tristan nodded.

“A while ago, yes,” he said, but he didn’t go into details—possibly because Leo was bleeding all over the sink. “We should bandage that. Do you think you need stitches?”

“No, the cuts aren’t that deep,” Leo decided, turning on the faucet and holding his bleeding hand under the stream of cold water. Maybe he should have been more concerned about the injury, but his mind was still whirring at the thought of his best friends breaking up. Unfortunately, the cold water stung like hell. He hissed with pain. “Sorry for making your kitchen look like a crime scene right after moving in. Usually, I at least have the decency to wait a day or two.”

Because the house was a small, cozy place and Leo had not had the decency to curse quietly, Piper appeared in the doorway a moment later, an alarmed expression on her face.

“What happened?”

“I’ve been bested by a stupid potato,” Leo cursed, holding up his bleeding hand and wiggling his fingers for emphasis. He figured out immediately that this was a mistake. “Ow.”

“Stop that, dumbass!” Piper cursed, moving to stand beside him. “Sink was the right call, but you need to use soap or the cuts could get infected. Dad, any chance we have gauze lying around somewhere?”

Tristan didn’t seem to question why his daughter had immediately jumped into emergency medical treatment mode. He just abandoned the cutting board and headed for the front door.

“Not exactly sure what box our regular medical supplies are in, but I’ll get the first aid kit from the car. I’ll be right back.”

“Do we have to do the soap?” Leo whined, because fuck, that stung, but Piper nodded with a scary expression on her face, so he complied. “How do you even know this stuff? Are we sure you’re not secretly an Apollo kid?”

“I know this stuff because I’m friends with a bunch of morons who have zero sense of self-preservation,” Piper cursed, gritting her teeth. “You shouldn’t be around knives when you’re this distracted.”

“I can usually cook just fine when I’m distracted. Your dad was the one who told me you and Jason broke up in the middle of this stupid potato,” Leo said defensively. “Is that the Mist messing with him?”

That was the only explanation his mind had supplied so far that made any sense to him.

Piper shook her head. “We really did break up. That was a few months ago.”

Leo felt his jaw hit the floor. 

“What the hell happened? You were together for ages. I thought- you always seemed so happy.”

“I know, but-” Piper broke off abruptly when her dad came back inside with the first aid kit. Demigod stuff, then?

Leo’s mind was racing. The breakup was a completely stupid thing to focus on, considering everything that had happened in the last few days. He knew that.

But it was easier to try and make sense of this than it was to try and make sense of the fact that Jason was gone and he’d never get to see him again.

“Is it alright if we do this somewhere else?” Piper asked her dad, taking the first aid kit from him.

“Of course. It might be easier to patch him up when you’re both sitting down, anyway.” He turned towards Leo. “Thank you for your help, but I think I can take it from here.”

Leo sent a silent prayer to whichever deity was responsible for protecting vegetables—Demeter, probably?—and gave what he hoped was an encouraging thumbs up with his uninjured hand before he followed Piper into the hallway to presumably be reprimanded some more.

~~~~ They ended up sitting on an old bed that looked like it had lived a long, miserable life and was excited for retirement, but the wooden frame thankfully didn’t break down under the weight of the new mattress or the additional weight of them sitting on said mattress. Piper explained that this had been her dad’s room when he’d lived here as a child, and that it would probably become her room now. Then she went very quiet and focused on bandaging his hand, clearly avoiding looking at him.

“It wasn’t because of me, was it?” Leo asked. The thought made him feel ill. “Please tell me it wasn’t something like, I don’t know, you two being unable to stand being around each other after what happened to me. I think I’d actually have to blow myself up again if it was.”

He tried to make it sound like a joke, but it didn’t feel like one at all. The thought that he'd managed to ruin his best friends’ relationship on top of everything else made it hard to breathe.

When Piper shook her head, it felt like a whole boulder was lifted off his shoulders.

“I actually think we would have broken up sooner if you hadn’t gone missing. We leaned on each other a lot after you disappeared. It wasn’t until we realized we wouldn’t find you and things started to settle down a little that I had time to think. And when I did…” Her voice went very quiet, and she still didn’t look up at him. “I realized I wasn’t happy in the relationship. I don’t think I ever was.”

“How did I not know that?” Leo wondered quietly. “I just… you two seemed happy to me. What kind of garbage best friend am I?”

Piper shook her head. “It isn’t your fault. I was telling myself I was happy for a long time. It’s almost- sometimes I wonder if I was charmspeaking myself. That maybe I kept saying I was in love with Jason until I convinced myself I actually was. And with Hera and my mom setting it up… I love-” her voice caught in her throat, and Leo felt like maybe he needed to throw up, “-loved Jason, but not like that.”

“Pipes, I’m really sorry.” Leo squeezed her shoulder. “That sounds like it was super hard for both of you.” Leo felt awful about the fact that he hadn’t even been around to comfort either of them, but it wasn’t like he could fix it now. It was just another item on Leo’s unending list of epic screwups he’d never be able to make up for.

“Jason was… well, he took it exactly like I expected him to. He was surprised, but he didn’t get angry or anything. He mostly seemed okay. Part of me wonders if maybe…” But whatever Piper had been thinking about, she seemed to decide it wasn’t important. “It was hard to get a proper read on him, and as nice as he was about it, things were still super awkward after. I'm terrified he died thinking I didn’t care about him.”

And then she was tearing up again, and Leo thought he would shatter if she cried. 

“He knew you cared,” he said as earnestly as he could manage, pulling Piper to his chest again. “You love way too annoyingly for him not to have known. Hell, even I know you love me, and we both know I’m a fucking nightmare when it comes to this stuff.”

“I missed you so much,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his back like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“Oh, I’m about to make you regret saying that,” Leo said, forcing himself to smile. “I’ll bring it up each and every time you say you find something I do annoying.”

“You’re annoying as hell, but you’re still my best friend.” He could feel her tears dripping onto his shoulder, and he knew that would make him start up again too. “I don’t know how I’d do this without you.”

And well, passing away from dehydration after crying too much would be a really lame way to die the second time, but everything was just too much right now, so if that was how he went, Leo wasn’t sure anyone could blame him.

~~~~

For the next couple of weeks, Leo stayed.

Helping Piper and her dad unpack was the perfect way to keep himself occupied and not have to think. Usually, a mundane task like this probably would have driven Leo nuts. But right now, it was a bit of a godsend—if not literally, at least figuratively. Being productive was always so much easier when it was done in order to avoid something you wanted to do even less. There was a reason his spaces in the foster homes had only ever been tidy when he had exams coming up.

He helped cook, too, and Piper’s dad became increasingly less garbage at it the longer this went on—like muscle memory was finally kicking in after years of disuse.

It was mostly good—listening to Piper reminisce about trips she’d taken with her dad and where she’d gotten the weird variety of items she kept in her room. When they weren’t unpacking, Leo and Piper played video games or watched movies or explored the area. Twice, during the night, they took Festus on a little flight to a nearby fast food place. Finding a parking spot was a bit of a nightmare, unfortunately. Leo would submit a complaint about their inability to accommodate celestial bronze dragons the first chance he got.

The first time they tried hiking—Leo didn’t even like hiking, he’d spent enough time outside for several lifetimes, why did he do this to himself—they got hopelessly lost in the woods, and of course, due to demigod bullshit, neither of them had brought a phone, so Google Maps wasn’t an option. It was probably for the better. The last thing that situation needed on top of them being lost was a monster attack. 

They were already jokingly planning out their new life in the woods when, thankfully, a girl their age came to their rescue.

“A human being! Thank the gods. The squirrels weren’t talking to us,” Leo greeted her, which had Piper shout “Please ignore Leo!” loudly from the branches of the tree she’d been climbing.

The girl lifted her head, spotted Piper and promptly burst out laughing.

“What in the world are you doing up there?” 

“Trying to get a better vantage point,” Piper sighed, making her way back down the tree. “We’re hopelessly lost.”

“Well, nice to meet you, hopelessly lost. I’m Shel,” the girl said, still grinning. Leo decided immediately that he liked her.

Piper had almost made it back down when she somehow missed a branch and fell the rest of the way. In comedic movie fashion, Shel moved before Leo had the chance to and caught her mid-tumble. “That was a bit of a dramatic way to get my attention, but you’re cute, so I’ll allow it.”

“Oh yeah, Piper’s got a bit of a thing with falling for people that way,” Leo commented, and Piper gave him her most murderous look while she got back on her feet.

“You guys need help getting back?”

“Please, yes,” Piper said immediately. “It turns out we’re both garbage with maps.”

“Maybe you just need a tour guide next time,” Shel suggested, winking at Piper, whose face turned scarlet. Leo wasn’t even mad about being the third wheel for once. He’d give her so much shit about this later.

And he did. And then Piper properly came out to him—no label or anything, mostly as extremely confused but sure she liked girls, which also made a few additional pieces click into place regarding her breakup with Jason. She ended her anxiety-riddled explanation by thanking Leo for being so normal and annoying about all this. 

Which was how Leo realized he’d apparently never told Piper he was bi.

Or maybe he had, and it had gotten lost along with their other memories of Wilderness. Stupid memory-stealing babysitters.

Well, at least they got to hug about it now. 

~~~~

It was strange how normal some days felt when nothing would ever truly be normal again. When in every moment Leo and Piper spent together, the gaping hole that had been ripped into their trio was so blatantly obvious.

The benefit and problem of this friendship was that Leo and Piper were both experts at not talking about things they were struggling with. 

This wasn’t exactly news. From what little Leo did remember of Wilderness School, they’d spent months not talking about his mom, or about the fact that Piper’s dad kept canceling their weekend plans. They’d both known there were things left unsaid, but as long as they’d been able to cheer each other up, that hadn’t really mattered. It made sense, honestly. Put two people who hadn’t had a shoulder to cry on for ages in a room together and see what happens!

Right now, this meant they were expertly ignoring the box of belongings Piper had picked up from Jason’s school. It had been pushed so far under the bed during that first night that it was no longer visible, and neither of them made any effort to move it out of its new home since. They ignored the topic of Jason, period, until it inevitably hit them in the face again. 

It was mostly dumb shit that set them off. Piper automatically reaching for vanilla ice cream at the grocery store because it was Jason’s favorite—seriously, who in their right mind even liked vanilla ice cream?

Sometimes, Leo would make a joke and burst into tears instead of laughing because he knew it would have cracked Jason up. They found old photos unpacking. One time, Piper’s dad suggested they make tacos and they started simultaneously bawling their eyes out.

Leo had spent a long time exactly like this—pretending everything was normal and okay when it wasn’t either of those things until he inevitably broke down. Then he’d started to actually feel sort of okay whenever he was with Jason and Piper. Now, he was sure he would spend the rest of his life pretending.

His appetite was too used to being stuck in survival mode for him to bow to nausea for long, so he went back to eating properly after a few days. He still cried himself to sleep most nights. He kept dreaming about Jason. The memories wrapped themselves around him like a safety blanket that he knew would get ripped away again in the morning. He always woke up feeling empty. Sometimes, he wished he could just go to sleep and never wake up again.

But other than that, it was mostly good.

Then demigod communications went back up, and everything went to hell.

———

Chapter notes:

Fun fact! I originally planned for this chapter (as well as the next few chapters) to just be backstory in my head and for me to maybe do a flashback or two. Unfortunately for me, Piper McLean waltzed into the room and refused to leave.

I do actually think the fic works better this way, but it will take a second to get to the plot! Hopefully you’ll enjoy the whole journey :)

I may not be able to have Leo and Piper go to Jason’s funeral without seriously messing with the plot of Tyrant’s Tomb, but I could at least pick the most evil reason possible for them not to go!

Side note: I sort of forgot that Hedge and Mellie were supposed to be here according to TBM, but by the time I remembered I already had this chapter written out and, as someone who cannot be bothered to figure out how to write them, I decided to just leave it. ToA is vaguely canon to this universe, but only for the most part. Some details are inaccurate, and I think that’s okay.

Anyway, thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs super, super appreciated as always!!

List of people that at some point asked to be tagged when I post this: @poppitron360 @ginnyluna @keefessketchbook (feel free to comment if you want to get taken off or be put on the tag list for future chapters!)

[pretty-red-garnet]

Never Leaving

Daryl Dixon x Fem! Reader • Farm • Fluff

Thank you so much to the anon who requested this! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

When Daryl had left early this morning, he'd promised he'd be back before sunset. You were a worrier, always had been, so he tried to reassure you. But now that the sun was just beginning to dip under the trees, you're staring to get a little worried.

     You and Daryl had been close ever since the quarry. He had found you after all, and you wholeheartedly believe you'd be dead if he didn't. You had just fled from your town being overrun and were totally out of sorts. But he had found you, gave you a little bit of his squirrel meat he had and took you back to his camp at the quarry. That was maybe three months ago now, but who can tell time nowadays?

Daryl was definitely your best friend. Sure, he could get angry and he snapped more often than not, but there was a warm heart under all that rough exterior. You knew now more than ever, with him going out every day looking for that missing little girl. Where he was now.

He wasn't always your closest friend, though. When you first met him, he was always snipe and rude. But he was just so damn interesting, and smart. You always bugged and prodded at him, and after a while, he didn't seem to mind. He even began to seek you out when you seemed just a little too quiet. He had gotten chewed out by Merle for that, for being 'too soft,' or whatever bullshit he managed to stew up.

But now, despite Merle's comments, you two were attached at the hip. Rarely one without the other. You just got Daryl. You understood him, how he didn't really mean his rude remarks or when he just needed to be left alone for a moment. Or when he needed to just be told to shut the hell up. He'd been shocked the first time you told him to, and you still have to laugh to yourself when you think about the face he made when you finally snapped back at him.

You're just Daryl's person, and he's yours. You understand each other on a deeper level than either of you have ever had before. If you're honest with yourself, sometimes you lie awake at night thinking of what it would be like to be even more to each other. Be each other's person in every possible way.

And now that he's been gone all day— when he promised he'd be back quicker than usual because he took a horse— you're panicking a bit.

What if he got bit? Or some other people hurt him? Where the hell is he?

"Rick, I'm going out," you say sternly. The sheriff looked at you confused.

"It's gonna be dark soon, you can't go out now." You huffed.

"Daryl still isn't back. Something could've happened, so I'm going to look for him." Rick shakes his head.

"You and I both know Daryl is probably the most capable one of us all out there," Rick says, reassuringly. You shake your head and your brows furrow. "If he's not back by morning, I'll go with you, alright?"

"No, not alright," you say with anger. "He shouldn't be out there all night. What if he got hurt? What if it was you, Rick, would you want us to leave you out there because we think you can handle yourself good enough?"

"Y/N, listen," Rick says and pulls you away from the tents where everyone is gathered. "I got enough to worry about already. I can't be worried about you wandering off in the woods alone at night, too. So just do me a favor and stay put."

Rick looks at you with a pleading look. You'd probably be more guilty of asking another thing of him on top of everything else if your stomach wasn't doing somersaults over Daryl. Still, you nod anyway with a sigh, and he looks relieved.

"I promise you, morning comes and he's still out there, I'll go with you." You nod again and give him a small smile. Rick pats your shoulder with a smile in return before waking back to everyone else. You cast one last look at the group before sneaking off to the stables. Maybe you could sneak one out of there and go alone.

     There's a horse there that's already saddled up. She looks agitated and stressed, pacing around and huffing air through her nose, occasionally lifting a hoof to bang it on the ground.

     You walk up carefully and put a hand on her nose. She exhales roughly, but seems to calm at your touches. You're confused as to why she's already set to go, before you realize and your eyes widen.

This is Daryl's horse.

     She came back without him. Why? Where is he? You rush her back to her stable and close the gate. You had to go now. Forget Rick looking in the morning, and never mind setting up a horse, Daryl needs help now. He could be hurt out there.

     You bolt out of the stables and look towards the tents. Most of your group is still gathered over there. You couldn't go to your tent and grab anything, forget going to get a gun, they wouldn't let you go. You just have to hope your knife attached to your hip will be enough. Luckily, Daryl had taught you how to kill walkers with just a knife, along with some self defense.

     You sneak off the farm and into the woods in the vague direction you saw Daryl go in that morning. You aren't the best tracker, but you knew the basics. Daryl had taught you that too after you'd annoyed him too much with your begging.

     You could see some spots where leaves where moved, but you didn't quite know if it was Daryl. It looked like it could be horse tracks, seeing as it was multiple prints right in front of the other, but you aren't totally sure. It was the best you had for now.

     You followed, nervously walking amongst the tall trees. You kept your feet light and quiet, following the tracks you could make out. After a while of walking, the tracks seem strange. There's a weird shuffle in the leaves next to a ravine. Then the tracks are on top of each other like the horse backtracked.

Weird. You walk some more, but now there's no tracks to follow. You aimlessly wander for another minute, looking around for any sight of the hunter.

     You grab a tree and lean over to look down the ravine. It dips down into a creek, but no sign of Daryl. You sigh and are about to keep moving when you hear heavy panting. You look around trying to find the source, before walking in the direction you hear it come from.

     "You best shut the hell up!" That's Daryl! You rush towards his voice and find him struggling to get up the cliff. He's panting and his face is smeared with blood.

"Daryl!" You yelp at the sight of him. He looks at you with wild eyes, covered in blood, and has walker ears around his neck. You would've been scared if it was anybody else.

You drop to your knees and reach down to grab his hand. You pull him up at hard as you could, and eventually, he drops down next to you. You take a deep breath and sit next to him.

"Are you ok? What happened?" You ask. His tank top was blood soaked and had a scraps of his flannel binding what you can only assume is a bad wound. He lays on his back, breathing heavily and doesn't answer. "Daryl?"

"Damn horse threw me off," he says, finally, unfocused eyes looking in your direction. "Fell down the cliff. Twice."

"Twice?" Daryl shrugs.

"Fell on my own bolt, too," Daryl says and motions to his wound. Your eyes widen and you immediately go to look at him. He flinches when you touch his stomach to move the binding.

"Can I look?" You ask, taking your hand off him. He nods, but he's looking at you with a careful expression. You pull the fabric away to see a clean shot, completely through his side. You grimace and gently put the fabric back over it. You tighten it a little and Daryl lets out a strangled groan, his eyes falling back a little. "I know, I'm sorry. We have to keep it tight, though."

You stand and reach a hand towards Daryl, who grabs it and stands. He stands unsteadily and sways. You put your hands on his shoulder and back to try and keep him upright.

"Good?" You ask. He nods, and the two of you begin the walk back to the farm.

Daryl holds up pretty well. Much better than you would've if you were in his position. The pace is slow and Daryl has resorted to dragging his crossbow on the ground by the strap.

"I could carry that, you know." Daryl shrugs.

"I got it," he says. You roll your eyes.

"You really will never trust me with your precious baby, will you?" He snorts and his mouth quirks in a smile, but he doesn't confirm nor deny. "I'll get my hands on it one day."

Daryl wouldn't let you help him walk at all, too nervous that he'd fall and take you down with him. So he stumbled his way back to the farm by himself, in more pain than he let on. Occasionally he'd let out a small, pained sigh, but would just say that he's fine and that you worry too much when you'd look at him.

     "I'll run ahead and let Hershel know your hurt," you said, once you finally exited the trees and entered the paddock of the farm. Daryl was lagging behind you, and you wanted to make sure Hershel was ready for him when he finally made it to the house.

     "Mhm," Daryl hummed. His brows were furrowed in a pained wince, worrying you even further. "'M fine, go on ahead."

     You nod and turn away from him, jogging slightly to the house. You'd send Rick to Daryl, he'll make sure he gets to the house. Daryl is too stubborn to let you help him, hopefully Rick could.

     "Walker!" Andrea shouts from the top of the RV once you get a little closer to your group's set up. "It's following Y/N!"

What? You turn around to no walker in sight you could just barely see Daryl staggering his way to the house. Honestly, from this far, Daryl looks like he could be a... uh oh.

     Before you could get a word in, Shane, Rick, T-Dog and Glenn fly by you with weapons in hand. You can see Andrea has that damn rifle firmly pointed in Daryl's direction. Your heart drops to your stomach in panic.

     "No! Wait!" You rush to run towards them. "It's Daryl!" By the time you make it to them, everyone is breathing heavily.

     "Third time you pointed that thing at my head," Daryl says, annoyed. "You gonna pull the trigger, or what?"

     Before anyone can say anything else, a loud gunshot rings out, and Daryl drops to the ground. Your stomach twists and your eyes widen, Andrea fucking shot him.

    "Oh my God!" You screech and drop beside him. "Daryl?"

     "I was kidding," Daryl says before falling unconscious. The bullet grazed his head, leaving a bloody stripe near his temple. You quickly check for a pulse and is relieved to find one.

     "He's unconscious," you say. Rick moves you aside and hefts Daryl's knocked out figure with Shane's help.

     "Oh my God!" Andrea's voice rings out and your face heats with anger. "Oh my God! Is he dead?"

     "Unconscious," Rick replies.

     "You could've killed him!" You shout, following behind Rick and Shane carrying Daryl.

     "I thought he was a walker!" She yelled back. "I was trying to help!"

     "Even if he was, it was one! There was a whole group going for him!" You stop to scold her, Rick and Shane helping Daryl up the stairs to the house. "That gunshot could send walkers right to us!"

     "With the trees and hills, the gunshot probably just echoed. They can't find us," Dale says, always trying to be the voice of reason. Typically, you respected it, but now it just pissed you off.

     "Daryl will be fine, Y/N—"

     "That's not the point! He could've died! And you're too goddamn stupid and caught up in your own problems to realize you're putting people in danger!" You huff and take a step back, turning around and running a hand through your hair. You're about to leave and check on Daryl, but Andrea steps in front of you to get in your face again.

     "I said I was sorry, you don't have to insult me—" And you couldn't take it anymore, and you smacked her right in the face. Her face instantly has a viscous red mark, and you don't know if you should feel remorse or pride.

     There's a chorus of 'oh's in the back from the others that gathered. You instantly feel guilt when you see Carol is there looking anxious, and so you turn to go in the house. You run into Hershel in the hallway nearing where Carl used to be, now where Daryl is laid up.

     "Is he ok?" You ask.

     "He's resting now, exhausted and recovering from blood loss. He would be much better if he didn't steal my horse." You groan internally at the comment and instead just smile and nod slightly awkwardly. "You should let him be, come back later when he's up."

     You agree and turn back to head to your tent. You keep your head down to avoid the others, but luckily most have scattered to their own areas.

     After a while of brooding alone and even missing dinner, you decide to go check on Daryl. You've been thinking about him, but didn't want to wake him up if he was still resting. But after dinner time, you didn't want to wait anymore.

     You quietly make your way into the house and to Daryl's door. You knock quietly and is surprised to hear a quiet 'come in.' You poke your head in to see Daryl laying on his back, looking back at you. He's all cleaned up with a bandaged around his head and side.

     "Hey," you whisper before closing the door behind you. "How're you feeling?"

     "'Bout as good as I look," he says with a shrug.

     "You must feel like shit then." Daryl snorts, his mouth quirking up in a smirk.

     "Pretty much." You sit down next to him on the bed. “I hallucinated Merle…”

“You must be crazier than I thought,” you joked, but Daryl didn’t smile like you thought he would. “You miss him?” He nods.

“He ain’t dead,” he says after a moments silence. “Don’t know where the hell he is though.”

“I’ve seen Merle kill like, 10 walkers while high. I don’t think a little blood loss will kill him.” Daryl smiles, snorting out a little laugh. You congratulate yourself on the inside for lightening him up. “Is that who you told to shut the hell up?”

“Yeah, he was talkin’ shit like always.”

“What else is new. I’m just glad you weren’t talking to hallucinated me, then I’d beat your ass,” you say, smiling and nudging him. He just lets out a scoff.

“Like you could.” He nudges you back.

You both fall into silence for a moment, you looking at your hands while Daryl is looking at you. "What's wrong?" He finally asks.

     "Nothing," you answer and give him a little smile. He doesn't look convinced, and nudges you with his foot.

     "S'it about Andrea?" Daryl asks. "Saw her face, looks like she got rocked pretty hard. Was that you?"

     "Maybe..." Daryl scoffs.

     "Maybe?" He teases, a soft smile that's reserved for only you on his face.

     "Ok, definitely."

     "That what's bothering you?" He asks. You shake your head. "The hell is it then?"

     "I was just really worried about you today," you confess, looking back down at your hands to fumble with them.

     Losing people is always on your mind, and Daryl was way too close today. You've already lost friends and family, people from your group. But Daryl is Daryl. When he found you in the woods, you were just about to give up. He gave you reason again.

     The thought of losing him terrified you. You don't want to think about what would've happened if Andrea had shot just a little more to the left, or if a walker found him bleeding out while he was out there. You couldn't lose him too.

     "'M fine. Told you that already." You nod.

     "I know." Daryl bites his lip a little and nods back. He looks like he has something on his mind.

     "You know," he starts. You look at him, waiting for him to continue. He seems nervous. "I'm always gonna come back to you."

     Tears well up in your eyes before you can stop them, and your hands tremble. Daryl looks panicked.

     "Sorry," you say with a little laugh, wiping at your eyes. "I just don't know what I'd do without you."

     Daryl has an unusually soft expression when he looks at you. He lets out a dramatic sigh and opens his arms.

     "Come on, once in a lifetime opportunity," he teases, pulling you down. You giggle and comply, cuddling into his body in a way that wouldn't hurt him. "M never gonna leave you," he whispers.

     "You can't make a promise like that," you say with a sniffle.

     "Like hell I can't." He hugs you tighter, but you can sense apprehension. This was Daryl's most outwardly show of affection since you've known him. He's always a little awkward about physical affection, he shows his care through action and doing things for others.

"You know why I can?" He asks, his voice quiet and hesitant. You hum for him to continue, but he doesn't. His fingers trace nonexistent patterns on your back and tap anxiously.

"Why?" You ask, pulling your face away from his chest to look at him. His face is flushed and his lip is pulled in between his teeth. He moves his hand up your back, sliding it to the back of your neck to play with your hair there. "Why?" You ask again in a whisper, too affected by the heavy tension in the room to be any louder. You didn't want to break it.

Daryl doesn't answer again, just pushes your head towards his to capture your lips. His lips are chapped and rough but you don't mind a bit. Your head is spinning but perfectly clear at the same time. There's not an ounce of appreciation or hesitation from either of you, both right where they know they need to be.

When you part from him, your eyes blown and faces heated, you don't break eye contact. His hand is on your face now, other on your back. Yours are splayed open on his chest. Daryl's eyes flit between your eyes before moves to rest his forehead against yours, unable to part from you completely.

"'M never gonna leave you, alright?" Instead of refuting him again, you just nod, and return your lips to his.

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Hunter's Favorite

Pairing: Shigadabi

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Commissioned by @zehei, Tomura has been an intergalactic poacher for a good long while now, and when a potential job comes through that's for a big payout only four hours from where he currently is, he decides to look into it. But red flags start to blanket the wintery forest as he realizes the barely classified creature that he's been sent after seems far too sapient to actually be an animal. For his part, Dabi is just desperately trying to find what he needs to ensure his next heat doesn't kill him.

Contents: Sci-fi bullshit, Alien!Dabi, Hermaphrodite!Dabi*, descriptions of violence and (brief) vomiting, non-human anatomy, mating cycles/heats, size difference, size kink, scent kink, cum inflation (brief), belly bulge, eggpreg, egg laying, infertility, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, wet and messy, courtship rituals, mating bonds.

*Author's note: I am using "Hermaphrodite" rather than intersex because Dabi is not human and his species is able to produce both male and female gametes throughout their entire lifecycles unless they use medicines to stop that process.

Word Count: 22,357

Days camping in the wilderness have never exactly been Tomura's idea of a good time, let alone the wilderness on foreign, barely settled planets looking for a creature that could very well already be captured or dead. But that is what he finds himself doing as he lands his ship and starts to make his way outside. Ipra 309T is a small earth-like planet, which is a stroke of luck for him because the last one he was on had dangerous amounts of sulfuric gas making up the atmosphere, and the one before that had dangerously high spikes of radiation. Ipra 309T is a hospitable planet that in all likelihood will see a settlement brought to its surface within the next few years once the current groups of scientists finish surveying the land. 

He makes sure that he has all of the gear he needs for his stay, however long that will end up being, and leaves his ship. The cloaking device only works when it's stationary, but after the past half an hour of scanning the area, it's taken in the environment and is able to mimic it effectively, turning all but invisible to the naked eye, certainly invisible to most animals that may come across it while he's gone. Camping. In a snow covered forest. Great. Tomura is already bundled as tight as he can be and he is already wishing that he hadn't taken on this job as he starts to walk away from his far more comfortable vessel. If he were a lazy poacher he would just send out drones to look for the creature and stay in his ship, but the effectiveness of that kind of behavior is always far below what he feels like he's able to achieve by using more traditional methods. And if he wants to bag this little beast then he is going to have to be as effective as possible. 

Tomura starts to hike towards the place where the animal-- if it is an animal at all-- was spotted last. Ipra 309T hasn't been fully surveyed yet, and the first reports that scientists had given were that there weren't any sapient species on the planet. Which would mean settlers would be welcome to come and stake their claim on the land as long as they did so within interplanetary immigration guidelines. And then someone came across a pack of eight small bipedal creatures. The early reports said that the creatures had white skin and hair with long pointed ears with tufts of fur sticking off the ends and thin tails with prominent tufts at the tip as well. Their sharp claws on the hands and feet, and the mouth full of jagged fangs were very effective against the skin of humans and Varquix, because the two scientists who had come across the pack had immediately been set upon with such viciousness the human had all but dragged their companion away while he held his intestines inside after being gutted. Not a particularly good first encounter, but not that unusual. The problem is that no one has been able to get close enough to the intensely violent and territorial creatures to actually determine if they're people or animals. The other problem is that someone from Proximacard, the company that sent the scientists here to study the planet, had also gotten away with an egg from these creatures, clearly classified as BMN-019, which had been broken at some point. The embryo had, of course, not been viable, but regardless of whatever could be discovered from that, the shell itself had been exquisite. The palest blue in color on the outside with irregular rippling patterns across the surface that flashed like mother of pearl and and inside that, as it oxidized, started to glow, making the ripples along the surface cast faint patterns of the shining rainbow that had been compared to the northern lights on Earth. And the shell had 'gone missing' only for new jewelry that was worth a fortune to crop up among the most elite in two star systems, only a few pieces, but enough to have made the theft more than worth it for the person who orchestrated it. 

And that person had reached out to see if he could find someone to get more of the eggs, if not the creature themselves, hoping they could induce the laying in a sterile environment. It was a job that no one was particularly eager to take up after the early reports on the viciousness of the creatures, but some leak in Proximacard's system made mention of one of the BMN-019s that was seen roaming alone, smaller than the others and with patches of dark blue fur and skin across its body. It was unclear if it was a juvenile or if it was exiled, but it would be worth finding out. He hadn't known if he would want to bother with this job either, given the cold, but the reward for bringing it in was enough to make him go to this planet to potentially freeze to death, especially since he was only four hours away from the location when the message came through. That would all but guarantee that he would be the first one here to try and capture the creature and he was hoping that would better his chances. 

He hikes for the better part of two hours to get to the area where the creature was spotted, the forest not unlike that of a pine forest on Earth, though these trees drop seed leaves year round, the pods pale and mingling with the snow. That only means that he has a better idea of how to survive the natural environment as he finds a place that has a good vantage point and starts to go about setting up his campgrounds. The goal, aside from not freezing to death, is to be as unobtrusive as possible and be able to get the creature to come close enough for him to subdue it and get a translation collar around its throat. If the creature can talk with it on, then he'll know its a person, not an animal, and that means he can warn it that slavers will be after it and that it should probably go with its pack to the surveying crew and try to be registered as a sapient creature and the dominant species on the planet to protect them from being hunted and sold. It's not much of a boundary given the other animals he's captured and sold throughout the years, but it is better than nothing. At least he doesn't trade in people. 

Tomura sets up his camp and scatters some sensors in a mile radius around his tent, cloaked just like his ship, so that he'll know if anything enters the area. And then he returns to sit and wait. Even with the best winter gear that he can buy, he is still loathing that he bothered to look into this job and subject himself to this awful cold. 

///

Dabi wakes just before dusk and stretches his tail flicking and his ears twitching as he listens to make sure nothing is out of place around his den. There shouldn't be any, not when he's made his home so far away from the village and anything else that might want to make a meal out of him now that he's alone, and he's pleased to not hear anything that might indicate an animal has found its way to his den. He stretches and looks down at the thin bedding that he's been able to gather so far and knows that it won't be nearly enough when his cycle hits in a few weeks time, not only that, but there is a hollow aching in his stomach from not eating the day before. Ten months since his exile and he still can hardly feed himself. If he doesn't manage to make his hunting and gathering pay off soon, he doesn't think he'll survive his next heat.

He slips out of the sparse scattering of leaves that have been serving as his nest and makes his way out of the cave he's been calling home, using his claws to grip onto the sheet of ice that reformed overnight. This section of the mountain doesn't have much in the form of readily available resources, but it is just outside of the place the hunters tend to venture, allowing him to sneak along the border taking whatever he can, as well as ensuring that he is far enough away to not be noticed. Maybe someday he'll have the energy to move further east where food is supposed to be more plentiful, but for now, this is all he can manage.

Dabi moves down the side of the mountain, swapping hopping from boulders and snow mounds, up into the trees and moving through those instead. His coloration makes this marginally safer than just darting over the ground, but the white patches of his skin and fur are certainly not the perfect camouflage. Still, he can't change that, and he has to hunt.

He doesn't like to fish the river. Zerads, reptilian semi-aquatic animals with powerful tails, taloned front legs, and sharp teeth, tend to swim in small packs through it, and being alone means that he's an easier target for them to pick off, especially since his shorter reach means that he can't scare them off with his claws when he needs to. But the fish are the most readily available source of food that he can get as it is, and he needs to eat something today and every day as he works his way towards his cycle. If he doesn't-- Dabi shudders to think of the horror stories he was told killed their layers during times of famine. Eggs not forming correctly, eggs shattering inside of the layer's bodies and piercing them with the sharp fragments of shells leaving them to die slow, agonizing deaths. He has managed to avoid those things so far, but he needs to make certain that he's getting the food he needs if he wants to keep avoiding that. If that means risking fishing the river and forcing himself to eat the fish, then he doesn't really have a choice but to try it.

Dabi is about to climb down from the trees to start his fishing, when he spots tracks in the snow. He frowns and slinks down a bit further to try and get a better look. His fur bristles. The rounded toe and strange regular, intricate patterns that are pressed into the ground are not the same as the other kinds of these prints they started finding around the village a year ago, not the shape of any creature's natural foot and that makes him bristle. His ears twitch, listening all the more carefully to hear anything moving around him, but only the light breeze through the trees and birdsong in the distance. He was already being cast away when the tall creatures came into their neighbor's territory and stole the eggs from their brood layer. But from what he heard along the edges of things were that they had strange flesh, and that they left tracks in the snow with no toes. Great. Just what he needs, another potential predator to deal with. Dabi hisses at the footprints as if that will make the frustration disappear, before he continues along the bank of the stream. He doesn't see any signs of Zerads for the moment and perches on the edge to watch and wait. 

It takes the better part of the night, but he manages to spear three large fish on his talons and that take is a relief. He carries them back to his den and tucks himself into the sparse nest. The fish taste foul, he has never liked fish at all, and their bones aren't going to offer as much nutrients as he is likely to need when it comes to being able to form a healthy eggshell, but he needs anything he can get and he forces himself to take large bites and only chew enough not to choke, swallowing the mess down as quickly as he can. The egg he managed to lay last cycle casts the images of his pack along the walls, but it doesn't really make him feel any less lonely as he sits in the thin layer of needles that is nothing like the nest that they used to make for his mother or Shoto. 

///

The next evening he wakes again, not ravenous thanks to his meal the night before, but with the knowledge that he has to go on a proper hunt today. He needs to eat real meat, he needs real bones, and he is so small. He slips from his den and goes through the trees again, this time moving away from the river to try and find something he can pounce on from up high. His people can climb, but they usually choose to hunt on foot, fanning out in a semi-circle and closing in on a target when one has been located. Dabi can't hunt like that, not only because he's alone, but because his strange coloration means that he isn't nearly invisible in the snow. He blends in better up in snowy branches and he only has a chance at catching something if he takes his prey by surprise. So he learned how to climb the trees better than any other Salkeh and now he can dart through the branches looking for his prey. 

He has to travel far from his den to find what he's looking for and it is a miserable realization when he finds a small herd of Vaak curled up and sleeping. There are three babies being guarded by their mother, the animal quadrupedal with thick gray-brown fur, large sharp antlers, sharp beak, and sensitive large ears. He knows if he moves any closer, if he tries to pounce with her around, she will wake and attempt to gore him. He doesn't know if he's fast enough to kill one of the babies and drag its body back up into the trees to feast on, especially not since the babies are nearly the same size as him and he really has no hope of carrying that corpse above ground all the way back home. 

Which means he has to stay until the mother leaves in the morning to go find food for her young. His instincts rebel at the thought of not being in his den for the entire day. But this could be a proper feast for him and the bones will help his egg form so much better. He fights his instincts, resigns himself, and stays where he is, curling up to sleep until the sun rises. Hopefully the mother will leave then and he'll be able to kill the babies before she can return. 

///

Tomura camps for two days, learning through his sensors that this quiet forest is teeming with life. There are a variety of small creatures that live in the trees, many more that roam the forest, but so far none of them have been the BMN-019 that he is looking for. He, thankfully, determines this from his tent where he is doing his best to try and convince himself he doesn't hate the cold more than he hates, well, anything else in the entire universe, but still. It's not until the third day that the sensor by the river goes off and as he checks the scan that it made of the creature's body, he finally gets the jolt of electricity that goes through him when he's found his target. The image the sensor is able to project is only of the creature's silhouette but it matches what he was told to expect for the most part, though seeing the creature in three dimensions shows him just how small it really is. It barely would reach his waist if he were standing beside it. He supposes that would put him right at disemboweling height the way the first scouts were. Still, that is good information to have.

The sensor indicates that the creature stays for a few hours, but it is pitch black outside. He is not about to go trekking through the snow in a dark forest, alone, on a foreign planet. That is a recipe for getting himself killed and losing his target forever. If the creature goes to the river to eat, then he can hike closer tomorrow when the sun is high and prepare to keep an eye on the area closely enough to actually act if it comes there again. It is another miserable night to sleep in the cold, but he will certainly need the rest for tomorrow, so Tomura forces himself to settle. 

In the morning, he gathers what he needs and then hikes out to where the sensor indicated. He stays down wind of the tracks and near the tree line, trying to ensure that the creature won't spot him as he waits and watches to see if the being will show itself. The day passes without the target showing its face, but as the sky grows dark and he feels the stirrings of his exhaustion starting to pull at his senses, Tomura gets his first glimpse of the creature. Through the night vision goggles, he can't tell the exact coloration of the creature, but it does have darker patches across its body that he was told to expect and it is very small as he watches it climb up into the trees instead of going to fish the river again. He tries to move through the forest beneath it at a safe distance. It is even harder to do when trying to keep from being smelled or spotted, but if the creature leaves the canopy, then he can use his tranquilizer gun to knock it out and restrain it. When it wakes he'll try speaking to it and determining if it's a person or an animal.

The creature moves through the trees gracefully, its long claws catching the bark as it jumps from tree to tree, its tail streaking behind him and lilting this way and that to help him keep his balance as it moves. Tomura watches closely and carefully, taking note of how it moves and how quickly a casual pace is for the nimble creature. He has no doubt that it will be much faster than him if it wanted to run. It searches the forest, hunting, Tomura thinks, as he recognizes the randomness of how it scans the environment. 

It finds what it's looking for after a few hours, and Tomura lingers a good way outside of the creature's range of hearing as he sees it settle into a tree above another small group of creatures. He tries to look up the designation of those, but Proximacard's public records for potential settlers are abysmal, and he can't get into the classified ones without his ship's computer. But the animals on the forest floor are sleeping in a tight bundle and his target watches them, pacing along a branch for a moment or two before he decides to settle into the bows of the tree, seemingly to sleep. Tomura can't allow himself that luxury, and he settles to watch the creature through the frigid night.

///

It takes until two hours after sunrise for the mother to leave her babies, and even then, Dabi waits another hour, his stomach hollow and gnawing again, before he thinks it will be safe for him to drop onto the nest. He can't eat all three of the Vaak in one sitting, but he will try to kill as many of them as possible. If he does then he can butcher them for the richest parts of their bodies, gorge himself on what he can eat, and then drag back whatever he can't. He moves along the branch until he is just above their nest bracing himself for the fall. The babies sleep soundly in the snow. 

He drops down, his weight, even so slight, from that distance is enough to crack the spine of the one he lands on top of which begins to scream its agony. But it doesn't manage to move, so Dabi ignores that and instead goes for the other two that are starting to thrash and try to gouge his flesh with their beaks. But his soft fur is much tougher than it looks and the attacks slash, but cannot pierce without them putting the force of a true bite behind it. He twists to find the throat of the second baby and sinks his teeth into the flesh, tearing out the throat and pulling away to find the third before it can even gurgle its last breath drowned in blood. He knows it will die, and he needs to ensure he takes the third as well. That one he throws his body on top of as it tries to flee the nest, stabbing his claws through its ribs and rending its insides into shreds. It collapses beneath him and the one that was screaming its pain only screams for a moment longer before he returns to it and snaps its neck completely. Dabi licks at the blood on his mouth, satisfaction humming through him, as he sees the feast he has made for himself. He listens carefully to ensure the mother isn't rushing back to her nest, and when he doesn't hear any movement but the breeze through the trees, he separates the bodies from each other so that he has room to work. 

If he were home, if he had a pack to keep him safe, he would be much more meticulous in skinning his kills. but right now he just wants to be certain that he eats his fill and has the best parts to bring home with him. He uses his claws to carve the muscular back legs off, the thick bones inside will be full of marrow and will make the consuming of those more pleasant. He opens the chest cavities to find the liver and takes the bulk of fat and meat from the abdominal section as well, getting many pounds of it that he knows will be very hard for him to take back home with him, so he eats that first. Dabi barely chews, knowing that will make it take longer to fill his stomach, and the meat is so slick with blood anyway that it goes down his throat easily enough. The more he can get inside before his body feels full, the less that he will have to waste or carry back with him. 

He is about halfway through the first body before there is a distant click and then a sudden, sharp thud against his thigh. Dabi yelps, startled, whipping around with his teeth bared to try and find whatever hit him. But there isn't anything that he can see. Still. He doesn't like that and quickly checks to ensure that his fur beneath his skin is unharmed before he pulls back and gulps down two more large fistfuls of meat before he grabs a section of one of the baby's intestines. He squeezes out as much filth from them as possible, and then he uses those to lash the legs together so that he will have an easier time of carrying them. He still doesn't hear anything, so he climbs back up into the tree with his spoils, and starts to make his way back home, hoping to get there before the fullness sets in and he's able to sleep for the rest of the day, knowing he won't be hungry for the next several. 

///

Tomura sits back in shock as he watches the tranq dart hit the creature's back flank and bounce off into the snow. He ducks lower in his cover as the creature, small and definitely his target with its patches of dark and light fur, whips around to see what hit it, but the dart is lost in the thick red-stained snow. When the target doesn't find an obvious source of the pain, it goes back to its food. From just watching the creature, Tomura can't determine if it is more or less animal than he was expecting. He only knows that it is particular about the sections that it eats. It's not until a few minutes later as he watches it use the innards of one of its kills to tie the limbs it selected to take with it in a bundle, that Tomura starts to lean towards this being a sapient species, and not an animal. Using tools is not always a clear indicator of a species having human-level or greater intelligence, but it certainly lends itself to that interpretation. The target goes back up into the trees and despite his exhaustion, Tomura follows after it again. He wants to know if this creature has a den, or a pack, or anything that could help him understand it better. 

They trek back through the forest, back to the river, and then he watches from the denser forest as the creature scales the side of the mountain, moving through snow and rock until it slips away into a little crevice in the stones and Tomura loses sight of it. Well, that is something, he supposes. He knows now, at least generally, where the creature is making its home. He goes back to his campsite so that he can sleep after such a long day and dreads his next steps. He may not be certain, but he is more suspicious of this creature being part of a people, not an animal , and that means that he not only won't get the payout for this job, but he will have to decide if he's going to risk trying to make contact with it, if only to tell the creature what danger it and its species are in if they don't get registered by someone as a sapient species. 

He would much rather go back to his tent to sleep, but instead he hikes all the way back to the carcasses that the creature left behind, the mother of them nowhere to be found. He goes to the bodies and carves out as much additional meat as he can, getting a few pounds of it that he knows will keep in the cold. Then he heads back to his campsite and packs that up as well before moving it much closer to the river and where the creature makes its den. It's only once he has all of that re-established that he makes himself sleep, already dreading the next few steps he has to deal with in this situation he's found himself in. 

///

Tomura ends up having to wait another day and a half before the creature comes out of its burrow again. It goes off into the trees and he slips out of his tent to leave some of the strips of meat near where it climbs down from the mountain. He also makes sure to leave a strip of cloth that has his scent on it. There's about a fifty-fifty chance that makes the creature start to associate him with food as a provider or as a potential target, but he would rather get the target to start smelling him a bit. Maybe it will make him less likely to tear out his entrails when he does end up having to approach the creature. 

After another hour or two, it comes back, hesitating in the canopy as it spots the meat. It watches and waits for forty-five minutes before it carefully moves down the tree and over to the pile, ears rotating as it listens for anything beyond the sound of the rushing water. But it investigates the meat, finds the cloth and gives it a sniff, and then takes that along with the large bundle of seed pods and pine needles back up to its lair. Tomura is starting to wonder what else he could leave there for it that might tempt it to stay longer, but after about five minutes, the creature comes back down the side of the mountain to retrieve the food. It snatches it up quickly and darts back up the side of the mountain and he's glad he has more of it. 

This routine continues for three more days. On the first he leaves another bit of the meat and another little piece of cloth for the creature before it leaves its burrow for the night, and when it comes down the side of the mountain it paces around for a long while before it takes a chunk of the meat to the river. It catches a fish with it and Tomura's stomach sinks as he realizes that it was testing it for poison, as it makes the fish eat the chunk and then keeps a hold of it in the water. It hangs on for half an hour before it seems to determine the fish is not going to die unless its claws sink in on accident, and it leaves the fish be before gathering the cloth and the food and going back up into its den. It doesn't come back out for the rest of the night. 

On the second he leaves what is left of the meat and a small sensor. He doesn't know if the creature will figure that out or not, but if it takes it into its burrow, then Tomura will be able to see if there is a whole pack waiting inside. He watches and the creature ignores the offerings tonight, instead going to the forest and gathering more plant matter before coming back and picking up the meat. It pauses as it finds the sensor, tapping at it, even biting on part of the edge and Tomura is mildly dismayed to see that corner shatter right off. The creature spits and sputters as it tastes the metal and plastic and lobs the whole thing into the river before it takes the meat and vegetation up to its den. 

The third day, though he loathes to do it, he gives up one of his thermal blankets. He has more than one, and he takes the one that he's been sleeping with and that has been saturated with his scent to where he has been leaving his offerings and then sits, just on the edge of the treeline, only hidden enough so that he doesn't think the other will spot him immediately when it comes down the slope. And he waits again. 

The creature comes down, investigating the blanket and not treating it as if it's food, thank god. Instead the creature starts to make small soft chirps and purrs as it picks up the fabric and bundles it to its chest. He can see the creature smelling it, its tail swaying softly over the snow as it closes its eyes and presses its face into the fabric. Tomura is struck with how cute the creature looks as it does so after seeing how vicious it was in its hunting before. He hesitates, but he shifts slightly, making himself a little more visible and the creature's head snaps up out of the fabric, its big, bright blue eyes scanning the area and locking onto him quickly. 

It bares its teeth and hisses, "Egg thief!" Short, sharp guttural sounds that Tomura can't understand before it drops the fabric like it's burned him before it darts back up the side of the mountain and disappears again. 

Well. He can't say that went exactly as planned. 

///

Dabi watches from the edge of his burrow as the egg thief waits about an hour before moving over to the bundle of soft, warm hide and begins to fold it. He doesn't know what animal it was made of, but it felt so good under his skin, smelled good and masculine the way the other little hide strips that had been left with the food from before did, and his stomach sinks. He had thought... he had thought, just for a moment, that he was being courted by someone. That some other exiled or lonely person had found him and was trying to give him food and materials to build his nest so he might be more inclined to let them join him when his heat comes. But instead the egg thief, one and a half of him tall and still would be towering at least two heads above even his father, with its thick blotchy skin and reflective insectoid eyes, had been trying to trick him. The thief makes the hide neat again and then goes back to the trees. Dabi watches him until he cannot see anymore, and even then, stays perched in the entryway for the rest of the night, ensuring that the thief does not come back. When the sun does finally rise he goes to his half-formed nest and starts to eat again. He got so much more food, both from his main kill and from the thief bringing everything he couldn't take as offering, but he will still need to go on another big hunt or another few smaller ones before his heat comes. He had been so excited about the hide, it would have easily filled out the rest of his nest, but now he will have to work twice as hard to get everything he needs so that he doesn't die during his heat. 

He eats and forces himself into a fitful sleep when the sun rises. Tonight, he decides, he will finish his nest, with or without that hide. 

///

When Dabi wakes again he pokes his head out of his burrow. The hide is where it was before and he scans the trees to try and find the thief for a few minutes before he darts back down and snatches it from the snow and brings it back up. He shakes the thing out, trying to find anything in it or on it that may be dangerous, but all that does is kick up the air around him and leave his burrow soaked in the scent of the thief. It's a shame that he smells so good, like crisp water and a musk that speaks of being a hunter that makes Dabi feel the first stirrings of arousal. He pushes that away and tucks the hide all around his nest, so big and soft that it fills it out perfectly and makes it much cozier. He wants nothing more than to get right back in, but if he wants to have his heat be perfect, to make it easy after the last one nearly killed him, he needs to do more. 

Dabi goes back out and spends the rest of the night gathering more and more of the seed pods to break, opening them letting piles and piles of white fluff come out that he can stuff under the hide to cushion him from the floor and keep him and his egg as warm as possible even as he will be sweating to cool off desperately. The one thing he will say for being on his own, is that no one seems to be hunting this narrow strip of territory, so finding places where piles and piles of them have gathered isn't very hard. 

He brings them back and growls when he sees the thief, a blotchy white and gray dot on the edge of the trees again, and it stays where it is, even lifting an arm to ensure that he has taken notice. 

"Leave!" Dabi snarls in the creature's direction, holding his pods tight, debating if he should attempt to kill the creature or if he should continue hiding in his burrow. He doesn't know if that thing can climb with its thick, nubbly fingers and feet with no toes or claws to grip the ice and stones, but the rumor had been they also travel in pairs. He doesn't know if he's seen one or two of the creatures, but the hide only smelled like one. 

"I don't mean any harm." The voice that comes out of the creature is even more unsettling because it doesn't have a mouth. It makes sounds that are too regular, that must be speech of some sort, but that Dabi cannot understand, and it does so without a mouth. He doesn't think that it’s an unfair reaction for that to frighten him enough to dart back up to his den as fast as he can possibly go. The thief doesn't chase after him, but he stays in the clearing for hours after Dabi has hidden himself away. 

///

The next day the thief is gone. Dabi combs the area, he smells around and finds the place where his scent goes strong enough that he thinks the other may have made its own den, but he doesn't venture too close, afraid of getting trapped on the ground. But the scent smells a little stale, and the day after that it is even fainter. Fine. Maybe he moved on. Dabi certainly has to if he wants to get the food he will need to push him into his heat that he can feel getting closer by the day. He tries to hunt, but he doesn't have the luck he did before, and before the night ends, he's back at the river, doing his best to snag a few disgusting fish to just ensure his stomach stays full.

When he wakes again, it's with him coming sharply out of sleep with panic roaring through his veins as the smell of burning fills his den. Oh stars, oh no, no, no. Dabi keens mournfully as he leaves his nest, his den, his eggs behind as he runs out of the cave, needing to get as far away from the forest fire as--

He bursts out into the sunlight, and there is smoke on the air, but the trees are not burning. Instead, down below, the egg thief has a small fire, contained in a circle of stones, and beside him is the carcass of a full-grown Vaak. The egg thief looks up at him as he bursts out into the sunlight and lifts its hand again. 

"Good morning." 

Dabi cannot understand the words any more than he can the sight laid out in front of him and he stares down at the egg thief. The creature has removed the outer layer of its face, and he distantly realizes that must have been a hide or something that he was wearing over his head. Because he does have a real face, eyes that remind Dabi of his own though they are smaller and the color of blood, his hair is long and white, but it has been tied back into a bundle at the back of his head, save for a few wavy sections that spill over his face. He has a nose and lips, but his ears are smaller and stuck to the sides of his head instead of the top, and they do not twitch or rotate the way that Dabi's can. He has markings, but they are smaller than Dabi's own, just some texture across his lips and around his eyes, and two short little stripes over the side of his mouth and one eye. 

The thief lowers his hand and pulls a stick out of the fire, then sets it to the side. Dabi watches as he moves over to the vaak's body and carves another section of meat from its corpse using a sharpened something that shines brighter than even Dabi's jet claws. He then pulls the chunk from the stick and the bloody piece and looks back up at him, offering both. He stares and after another second the creature speaks again, 

"I'm not going to hurt you. Come here and have some food." The words are foreign and confusing, but the tone he uses is low and soft, only just loud enough to carry to where he is perched, and he knows that tone from how his mother spoke to his younger siblings. Does he think that he is a child that he can steal away? 

Dabi hisses at him. "Go away!" 

The thief tosses the two pieces of meat up the side of the mountain, to on top of one of the boulders that make up the rocky face a few feet below him. "There's plenty for you to eat if you come down to see me." 

He's torn between hissing at the other again, possibly leaping from the stones and trying to get his claws and teeth into his throat and watch the blood gurgle there until he chokes on it, and... accepting the... courting presents. That must be what these are. Only a potential mate would bring things for his nest, would bring him food, would talk in that tone of voice? Did the thieves realize they couldn't steal away the eggs, so they decided that they would court a mate for them instead? Dabi hisses at him and stomps his way back into his burrow to go to sleep. 

Some thief. He curls up into a tight ball in his nest and tries to go back to sleep, his nose still filled with the scent of the strange creature. He clearly doesn't know that Dabi is alone because he's not worthy of having a mate in the first place. 

///

Tomura keeps the fire going and he slowly butchers the animal he caught the previous day into neat sections. He carves away the legs and breaks them down at the knee joint so that the thick flanks are separated from the thin ankles and hooves the way he had watched the target do with the babies. He takes out as much meat as he can and separates the liver as well. It's cold enough that the corpse will keep for days, and the smoke of the fire, rather than attracting any other creatures, seems to have very effectively scared them all off the way that his target had looked so frightened as it came barreling out of its den to the smell. 

Tomura has a miserable knot in his gut throughout the day. That creature made different sounds at him when he tried to coax it closer with the food. Not just hisses or growls, it had very clearly waited for him to finish speaking and then deliberately articulated, his ears pinned back and his teeth bared in a snarl. He can't pretend that this isn't a person anymore, but that just makes this all so much worse. Other people won't care, they'll do their very best to hide that fact for as long as possible, they might even try to figure out how to lobotomize the creatures when they get them into captivity so they'll just be egg producers for anyone who wants to indulge in the beautiful shells. He is a criminal on thirty planets for the animals he's hunted, but at least he knew those were animals. He hasn't ever done something so vile to a person, and the thought of leaving the strange, vicious, fluffy little creature to suffer whatever fate the next poacher inflicts on it is not something he can stomach either. 

It's a few hours after sundown when the creature reemerges from its den and it pokes its head out, sees him, and actually hisses this time, his ears pinned back and his tail whipping around behind him. Tomura wishes that he could just use the translator himself, but if this is a completely unregistered species, then it won't have the first clue how to translate his language for him, the model not nearly as advanced as others on the market because he hasn't ever needed a more sophisticated one. 

"I have more food." He offers calmly. The creature hasn't tried to attack him yet, and he moved into the center of the snowy field, far enough from the mountain and the trees so that he's certain it won't be able to pounce on him from above like he saw it do when it hunted before. 

"Go away! I'm not a mate!" The creature pairs the words with a big arm motion, trying to shoo him away. Tomura ignores that and gestures for him to come down, then picks up another piece of meat and offers that. The creature looks at him incredulously, stomps one of its feet and huffs before it moves parallel to him until it can jump from the edge of the stones into the nearest tree, then it disappears again. Tomura leaves the meat behind, puts on his goggles so he can see, and follows after it.

He doesn't bother to sneak this time, just staying a few yards behind and keeping one hand on the hilt of his knife just in case it lunges for him. But otherwise, when the creature carefully descends from the trees to start to gather even more of the seed pods, Tomura starts to do the same. Mirroring is something that many species do to show that they're not threatening, and he hopes that his mirroring will help to make the creature less frightened of him. The small creature spots him doing that and glares at him. 

He's much closer than he has been to his target before, and he can see human-like features in the set of its face. Its eyes are larger than a persons and its irises are such a bright blue that Tomura doesn't think he's ever seen that color occur naturally before. It has a small pointed nose and thin well-defined lips that cover the sharp teeth when it isn’t sneering at him, all of them sharp but its incisors are much larger on the tops and bottom of its jaw. The fine, tough fur that covers its body is littered with patches of dark blue under its bright eyes, across its cheeks and down the lower half of its jaw to his collarbone, along its arms, stomach, legs and chest, more dark patches than light and it sticks out fiercely among the snow. It has four fingers on each hand and three toes, long black talons curving off of each like a raptor, the back of its ankle even has a larger dew claw that he has seen the creature use to grip onto branches and stones. Its tail is long and thin, topped with a thicker tuft of longer fur, and its head has hair, not just fur, a shaggy mess of it that looks like it was hacked into the spiky shape around its head and spilling over its forehead and cheeks by the creature's claws. And it really is so small. Maybe four feet tall. Tomura is almost never the tallest human in a room, but he feels like a giant when he looks down at this creature. 

His target hisses at him again and makes a shooing motion and Tomura shakes his head and offers it more of the seed pods. It huffs, takes what it's gathered, and climbs back up into the tree instead. That's fine. For now, Tomura has the time to be patient. 

///

It takes another three days. Every evening when the creature emerges from its den, Tomura offers it bits of the frozen carcass, and he can see the creature's resolve starting to waver at the massive feast that is being offered to it. But it tries to tell him to leave anyway. He stays. He brings more of the seed pods too, he digs through his things until he finds another blanket, not a thermal one, just a thin, small scrap of fabric that he hasn't used in years, and he offers that as well. 

And it takes three days, but the creature finally huffs, paces around, and eventually descends. It still skirts around the edge of his little area and Tomura tries to seem calm and relaxed, very carefully gesturing for it to come closer as he offers some of the meat. The target stays back, darting in just close enough to grab one of the legs instead. It goes halfway up the mountain again as it starts to eat and Tomura lets it do so. He watches as it sets into the frozen flesh ravenously, crunching through the bone and swallowing the marrow and shards as easily as the meat. It manages to eat the entire thing, looking up at him constantly like it's waiting to be attacked, but Tomura just keeps trying to be calm and unthreatening. The creature eats the leg and then eyes the other butchered pile of meat. Tomura offers it again, 

"You can have as much as you want." 

The creature looks nervous and tired, but it comes a little closer again and takes the frozen liver. That was the only specific organ he noticed missing in the babies, and Tomura hoped that would be its favorite. It takes that and gobbles it up as well and Tomura waits. It slinks over to the river to drink, keeping one eye on him the entire time and Tomura watches quietly. There are another few minutes of time that pass, but the creature does eventually come a  little closer, keeping the fire between their bodies. 

He lifts a hand and presses it to his chest. "Tomura." 

The creature considers him for a long moment, then mirrors the motion, "Dabi." 

And Tomura is finally able to breathe a little easier as he offers the blanket too. 

///

He doesn't understand why the thief, Tomura, seems so bound and determined to court him, but after days of him sitting outside of his burrow and the feast he procured a constant offering promising Dabi that his heat will not be one of misery, he finally breaks and goes to actually get closer to the other creature. Tomura moves slowly and carefully, like he is trying very hard not to spook him, like he's a frightened animal, but he wonders if the size of him is what makes that a necessity. He's so large compared to others of his kind and he clearly is a skilled hunter to have taken a Vaak alone and without claws or sharp teeth. They sit together for a few hours and the thief periodically offers him more food. Dabi declines. He would love to gorge himself, but he can't let himself relax that much. 

About halfway through the night, Tomura very slowly reaches into a pouch on the side of the hide that he is wearing over his body and Dabi bristles, but he pulls out a strip of cloth that has a darker square of what looks like the same material as the hard puck that had been left with the second offering of the meat. It's not something that he recognizes and Tomura holds it between his strange hands. He lets Dabi examine the cloth from his side of the fire and then brings it up to his neck, miming adding it to what he is already wearing before pulling it away from his neck and pointing to him. 

For him. Something to wear. Dabi wonders if this is a courtship item from his culture, if the puck was too. He isn't certain that he should accept it when his eggs will never be fertile. If the creature wants to be his mate, then he should know that. Dabi shakes his head. He doesn't know how to tell the thief that he isn't worth the time and effort that he is putting into this courtship. He puts his hand low on his pelvis, where the pouch of his egg will form as he gets into his heat and he whines softly, shaking his head again. 

The thief frowns at him and puts the hide back into the pouch and then offers Dabi more food. It would be sweet if it weren't so sad. Dabi takes that offering and then leaves the fire, going back up to his den, but Tomura calls after him. He half turns to look and sees he's offering another hide, a bigger one like the one he's already added to his nest. Dabi's chest tightens so sharply. This creature is trying so hard to be a good mate. He carefully approaches, still worried that he might lunge for him. But Tomura offers him the hide, letting go of it when it's in Dabi's claws, and he pulls it to his chest. It doesn't smell as good as the other did, it's not as thick, but it's still too much to give someone like him. 

"You should leave." He tells the other, putting the hide back on the ground between them, and using his other hand to try and shoo him again. "I can't be your mate." 

Tomura very deliberately shakes his head. Dabi churrs, huffs, and goes back up to his den. 

But Tomura is still there and waiting for him the next morning. 

///

He offers the scrap of hide for the next day and a half, and no matter how often he rejects it, how frequently Dabi tries to tell him to leave, even resorting to throwing handfuls of snow at the other to try and chase him off, the thief doesn't waver. And the longer he lingers, the deeper that a warmth starts to bloom in his body, telling him again and again that he needs something, and that something should be a mate now that he has plenty of food and a warm, safe nest for his egg. It's those instincts he has been trying so hard to ignore that have him reaching for the hide. Tomura confuses him when he withdraws it, trying to get him to come closer. 

Dabi is still wary, but he moves so that he's within arm's reach of the other creature, his claws ready to go for his throat if he tries to harm him. Tomura mimes wrapping the hide strip around his own neck again and then gestures at Dabi. Oh. He hesitates, his ears pulling back and his tail flicking wildly, but he forces himself to tilt his head back and bare his throat. Tomura moves very slowly as he leans into his space and Dabi gets a stronger whiff of his scent, the warmth of his skin sending him purring softly even through his nervousness as he prepares himself to attack if this is a trick. The thief brings the hide around his neck, and the bit that was like the puck is heavier than the scratchy hide. He slots it into place and there's a soft whirring sound that comes from the thing that Dabi doesn't understand. Tomura leans back out of his space and smiles. 

"There, can you say something for me?" He can't understand the words, but the other mimics speech and Dabi frowns. 

"What is this?"

The whirring gets louder and then Dabi startles as there's a little shock against the side of his neck like when there is lightning in the air. 

"It's okay--" Tomura says in his language. Dabi's head whips back to him and he snarls. Tomura holds up his hands placatingly. "It's okay, it's not going to do that again. It just had to connect to you so that you will be able to understand me. You can understand me now, can't you?" He lowers one hand very slowly to one of his pouches and extracts a little... shell? Something hard and shiny black that opens. He takes a rigid larva out of it and raises it to one of his strange ears, slipping it inside. 

"I--I-- if you could speak all this time, why were you--" he gestures as if that can encapsulate all of the stranger's behaviors up to this point. 

"I can't speak your language." The other tells him, "And you can't speak mine. This earpiece," He points at the thing he stuck inside. "And that collar, connect us so we can understand each other now." He waits to see if Dabi has anything to say to that, but he is just stunned and quiet. He has never heard of such a thing. "My name is Tomura Shigaraki, I'm a human from the planet Earth." 

There's another long pause, but eventually he makes himself croak, "I don't have a pack name anymore." 

Tomura frowns slightly. "Is that different from 'Dabi'?" 

He barely manages to nod. "'Dabi' is my name in exile." His chest tightens, "I was expelled from my pack-- I'm broken, my coloration is wrong, I still lay even though my brother was chosen to be the nest barer--" he has to tell him these things, he has to get this... human to understand that he isn't worth all of this trouble, that he can't be a mate. "My eggs aren't--" 

"People, other species from places besides this one," Tomura cuts him off, his eyes intense, "Want to steal them from you. They think that your people are animals, and they want to steal you away so that you can lay the eggs for them to sell." 

His stomach lurches sharply. "...What?" 

Tomura takes a breath and starts to speak for a long time. 

///

It takes several hours, the sun rising on the clearing again, by the time Tomura has finished telling Dabi everything that he needs to. He doesn't have the training that planet surveyors do to tell a new native species that they are not alone in the universe, but he does what he can. Dabi listens to him, he only asks a few questions, and he can see the small creature grappling with everything he's been told. 

"...I can escort you to the Proximacard settlement where you can get your species registered as sapient and start negotiations with them--"

"They are the ones who told your people," he has never had a qualm about his profession before he hears how Dabi says that, "To steal our eggs." He whines low in his throat, "Would they even listen?" And there's a hopeless fear in his voice that scratches at that bare bit of conscious that has kept him here trying to figure out how to help Dabi and his people, Salkeh, instead of leaving when he realized that they weren't the animals he had thought he should expect. 

"I don't know." He admits and then, before he can use his better judgment and stop himself, he goes on, "I can also take you off planet to the nearest hub. I can bring you to a galactic outpost, and you can get registered directly with someone there who isn't associated with them. They'll work out what they can do to help make sure it is a lot harder for anyone to come here and try to hurt your people." 

Dabi looks so forlorn and helpless for a long moment. "How long would that take?" 

"The nearest planet," that he can go to and that doesn't have an outstanding warrant against him, "Is about a day and a half's flight. I don't know how long getting completely registered will take, but just going and telling them that your species is a people and not animals will make them send non-Proximacard people here to make certain that Proximacard isn't doing anything illegal-- like trying to take your eggs." 

"I... okay. They'll have to find someone else-- I'm an outcast. I can't speak for all Salkeh." 

"Now that I have a sample of your language, they will be able to reach out in your people's tongue. Hopefully that will be enough to keep anyone else from being disemboweled?" 

Dabi shrugs weakly, like he doesn't know and is too caught up in everything else that has already happened to make a decision now. 

"You can take some time if you need it," he offers reluctantly. He doesn't know what learning this kind of thing about the world would do to a species that is still in the hunter-gatherer stage of evolution. He's not even certain, as far as legality goes, if Proximacard would be allowed to set foot on this planet if they'd known about this. "But not too long. I'm not the only person who is interested in your species." 

"Okay." Dabi reaches for the collar. 

"You can leave that on, unless it's causing discomfort. I'll leave in my earpiece. If we are within ten yards of each other then we'll be able to talk." 

Dabi's hand drops away and he just nods, barely looking at him. 

"You can take as much of the meat as you want too." 

"...I'm not giving you my egg." 

"I don't want it. I just brought this because I was hoping that you would talk to me if I showed that I wasn't a threat." 

Dabi's ears pull back, not into sharp points, but almost flat down into his hair and his tail curls around one of his ankles. "...Right. Of course." He doesn't take anything else as he goes back up to his den. It's too far for him to hear the other's voice through the piece. 

///

The next time he sees Dabi is well through half of the night and he is going to have to tell the other man that he is diurnal, not nocturnal, because he is seriously starting to feel the lack of sleep he's been getting over since arriving here. Dabi slinks down the edge of the cliff and comes over to the carcass, picking up another leg before he drags it closer and starts to gnaw on it. 

Between bites he asks, "Do you not eat meat?" 

"I do, but I don't know what on your planet is safe for humans. We have people who determine that through different methods, but I don't have the equipment for that." He takes the water bottle from his belt, "If I didn't have this, I couldn't even safely drink the water on this planet. There are some planets where I can't even breathe because of the different environments. If you come with me, when we dock, I'll have to call the outpost and they'll send someone to see you to determine if you can leave the ship safely, if not, they'll probably come with us back here to fully register you." The only reason he's bothering to take Dabi instead of just going himself to tell them is because he doesn't want the guy to get captured or killed by any other poachers that may arrive while he's gone. He can't even just try to put a call through to the proper authorities because it will be filtered through to Proximacard because they have settling rights on the planet and they'll just report back that the Salkeh are not conclusively a people. Bringing Dabi somewhere it won't be possible for that information to be buried should help actually keep his people from being rounded up and sold to slavers. 

Dabi rolls those things around in his head for a minute and crunches into the bone of the leg again. 

"Can I ask you something?" 

"What?" 

"Do all of your people lay eggs?" The translator has assigned his speech the masculine forms of words, which is how Tomura has been able to guess his gender now, but he has no visible sex organs or any recognizable secondary sex characteristics that he would have expected from another creature. 

"...We're not supposed to." Dabi mumbles, hunching in on himself and making his already small body even tinier. "Packs are made of a mated pair and then whatever clutch they are able to raise over the years. The mates pick one of their children to be the one to continue the line and they are allowed to keep laying throughout their life and look for a mate, the other children become the hunters and guardians for the layer. My youngest brother was picked to do that for my family, my sister, second brother, and I were supposed to be hunters, but I kept laying anyway. I tried to stop it, but it only delays it, and it makes me sick." Dabi hesitates, but he keeps eating, and when he swallows again he mumbles, "They sent me away. We can't sustain a pack that has two layers, and my coloration isn't... right. I'm too noticeable when we hunt." 

"I had a hard time spotting you at night going through the trees." It's not much of a compliment, but the little creature looks so forlorn that Tomura wants to try to offer something comforting. 

"We normally hunt by foot, during the day. I'm... compensating for my shortcomings." 

"If you're surviving fine on your own then your differences aren't shortcomings." He says a little more firmly. That, at least, he can be genuine about. "None of the rest of your pack have survived alone, have they?" 

Dabi considers the words, considers him, and then shrugs slightly, his tail flicking a bit. "I don't know." He shifts, turning slightly away from him as he focuses on his meal, making it very clear he's finished with this line of conversation. 

Tomura doesn't push him on that. He's supposed to be building trust with the other man. He doubts he'll get him onto his ship otherwise. 

///

Dabi isn't sure about any of the things that Tomura tells him. He didn't know there were other people out in the sky, he didn't know there were worlds that were like his but not, that the creatures invading their forests and stealing their eggs were looking for something pretty rather than stealing them away to eat. What he knows most sharply from his conversations with Tomura is that... he isn't looking for a mate. He never was. He only gave him the things he did to try and get him close enough to put the collar on him so they could speak. Tomura brought him gifts to tell Dabi what danger he is in, and that is all he did it for. He never intended to do anything else. 

And Dabi is aching with his hurt every time he goes and curls into his big, warm, fluffy nest with his stomach full. His mother had never had such a lush nest, his father and all of them had never been able to provide her or Shoto such luxury when their heats came. But Tomura doesn't seem to know or even understand any of that. He only means to try to do right by his whole people. That shouldn't sting so badly, but as the smell of the human fades and fades from the blankets, it's the scent of his sorrow that replaces it. Not even the monster his people feared could want someone as broken as him. 

///

"Tomura?" Dabi asks as he comes to the fire. Tomura finishes adding the sections of wood that he gathered earlier in the day and looks up at him. The smaller man looks up at him, his ears pulled down again and his tail flicking by his ankles, like a guilty dog. 

"What is it? Did something happen?" 

Dabi shakes his head slightly, but his head is still down. "How long will it take?" 

"A day and a half to travel there, but they should send someone to the docking bay immediately when I tell them you're with me. I don't know how long they would make me confine you to my ship as they checked you out, but I don't think it would be more than a few days, otherwise they would probably just have me bring you back here so that you wouldn't be off your planet for too long. Maybe a week?" He hopes that it wouldn't be longer than that. He's already spent a lot of time on this job and he's sure the file is properly in circulation now. If they don't sort this out quickly, then the likelihood of other Salkeh getting taken away is absolutely going to go up. 

Dabi shifts on his feet. "I can't leave for two weeks," he says and Tomura wants to argue. "I need medicine if I'm going to try." 

"Medicine?" 

"It's almost time for me to lay my egg. I can hold it off, but I need the fruit from a special tree. If I have enough of the fruit I can push it back for a little while." 

Tomura would almost laugh if Dabi didn't sound so dire as he speaks. Every species on every planet has their own versions of birth control, it's just something that is slowly becoming apparent as a universal constant. "Okay, I can help you gather it if you want." 

"I need you to go get all of it." Dabi tells him. "We only plant the trees on the edge of a claimed territory, and I'm not allowed near any. If they smell I was by the tree, they may come to... hurt me." 

"Okay, where is the tree?"

Over the course of the next few minutes, Dabi gives him directions that Tomura maps out with the sensors that he's placed around the area, and he gets a detailed description of the tree, though it shouldn't be too hard to spot given that it is much smaller than the species that is dominant all throughout this area. The fruits themselves are the size of Dabi's fist, so around the size of an apple, but should be dark purple with a fuzzy white layer of hair along their skin to show they're ripe. 

He would rather not travel at night, but with time being so important, and now knowing the other Salkeh are diurnal, he would rather go to the edge of their territory under the cover of night. Just to lower his chances of getting disemboweled, if at all possible. So he gears up and heads out, Dabi staying behind and watching after him as he goes. 

///

The trek through the snowy forest is, thankfully, not as difficult as he feared it would be, though the cold and moving carefully through the snow does mean he's going much more slowly than he usually does. Still, it's worth it when he gets to the tree and finds that it is filled with the fruits exactly as described. He pulls a small folding bag out of one of his pockets and starts to pick the ones he can reach, going a bit higher than the ones he imagines will be easier for the Salkeh who live in this territory to get to. Dabi said to bring as many as he could, and he's guessing he'll need to eat them every day that they're gone, so he fills the bag with nearly three dozen and makes his way back to the campsite. 

Dabi is waiting for him, inspects the fruits and starts to take them up to his den. 

"Dabi, we should leave as soon as we can." He warns. 

"Tomorrow?" The creature asks, his shoulders hunching in on himself. "I... might be sick after eating some of these. I need a few hours to adjust." 

He doesn't really want to put the other man on his ship, on the first vehicle that he's ever been on, when he already might be at risk of throwing up, so he concedes to that. "Okay, I'm going to go back to my ship and sleep and in the morning I'll gather up my gear and then fly the ship back here. Do you need more food for the trip?" The Vaak that he hunted for the other is still only half eaten, though he supposes that's not really a surprise, the creature was the size of a moose. 

"No," Dabi mumbles, and Tomura isn't going to say that the creature has ever been jovial or even all that talkative, but he certainly seems more dower than he has been before. Part of him wants to ask if pausing his laying is painful or dangerous, but the fact of the matter is that him not doing it could be far, far worse. So he just says, 

"I'll see you tomorrow afternoon?" 

"Yeah." He slinks back up to his den and Tomura extinguishes his fire thoroughly before going back to his ship. It's a lot of hiking on very little sleep, but he can sleep for a few hours in the ship, and the autopilot will be able to cover him on the way to the nearest settled planet. 

///

Dabi doesn't dare curl up in his nest as he eats the raca fruit. Tomura brought him plenty and he purged his stomach as much as he could while the other was gone in the hopes of getting their toxins into his system as quickly and thoroughly as possible, but he still will have to eat so many of them to try and stall the heat that he can feel sitting on the edge of his awareness. He waits until he can't hear Tomura crunching through the snow anymore and then he slips out of the den and takes the first fruit from the bag. The plump insides are bitter and sour as he eats it, the taste immediately making his stomach lurch, but he quickly tears the hard pit from the insides and gulps down the soft pulp of the rest of the fruit in a handful. It has barely hit his stomach before he is reaching for the next, and the next, and the next. He eats them until his whole body feels hot, the fur across his chin is sticky and wet, his claws are soaked, and he's sobbing softly as his body tries to revolt. 

He only manages to hang on for another two fruits before he can't any longer, shifting away to empty his stomach of the fruit that tastes the same crawling up his throat as it did going down. Dabi means to move back to the bag and continue the miserable feast, but the stress and pain in his body are too much, he was too close, and a cloying, sickly warmth starts to bloom through his veins. He stumbles as he tries to stand, dizzy and even weaker than he usually is as his heat swells through his body, barely managing to drag himself back into the safety of his den before his legs give out beneath him. 

///

Tomura lands his ship in the clearing the following afternoon and spends the next twenty minutes boxing up bits of the Vaak to bring along for Dabi to eat. He knows the other doesn't drink as much water as he does, but he also goes about ensuring that he takes several gallons of the water from the river for him. He makes sure that his ship has fully filtered through the air that was inside, runs a decontamination sweep on the thing, and then leaves the bay doors open to take in as much of the pollen, air, and anything else that the planet might have that will hopefully keep Dabi alive. He usually knows how to adjust his ship's environment for his cargo, but he also usually is going after a known species. He doesn't know if Dabi's race is so delicate that a change in humidity or slight fluctuation in pressure could kill him, so he does his best to calibrate all of his systems to keep him safe for the journey. He even lowers the heat so that it will maintain the temperature of the planet, even if that means he's going to be miserable for a few more days. 

And by the time he's done all of that, it's well after noon, and there is still no sign of Dabi. He waits another hour and the alien still doesn't appear. At the end of that hour he goes up to the base of the mountain and calls, 

"Dabi?" He knows the creature's name, and even if he's out of range for the translator, he should be able to hear him anyway. But he doesn't get a response. Tomura hesitates. He hasn't climbed up to the creature's den. At first it was out of fear that he was hiding a vicious pack inside that would tear him to pieces, but after that, it was entirely because he was worried that doing so would encroach on the other's territory and make him feel unsafe. He needs Dabi to trust him and to be able to trust the other if they're going to be in a confined space together for a few days. 

But he also said that the fruits could make him sick. He debates with himself for another twenty minutes, but then he goes back into the ship, gets his climbing gear. The distance from the place where he's seen Dabi disappeared and the ground isn't all that much, but given the icy surface of the stones and mountainside, he would rather be safe than sorry. It takes him another twenty minutes to climb up to the ledge he always sees the other duck into, and even just a cursory look around has him locating the narrow entrance to a cave along with the half-empty bag of fruits, the pits of them, and a pile of what he can only guess is frozen sick. Concern lances through him and he goes over to the mouth of the cave. 

"Dabi?" He calls softly. 

The earpiece crackles to life and he hears a soft, distinctive whimper from deep within the cave followed by a sound he can only describe as a sob. Tomura's stomach sinks. 

"Dabi, are you alright? Can I do anything to help?" 

"T-Tomura," He whines again at the end of the word, and he takes a tentative step into the cave, having to crouch down a fair bit to fit inside. 

"I'm going to come inside, okay?" The other just lets out another weak sob and Tomura doesn't know if he could feel worse about this situation. He's never thought he was a particularly good person, but the realization that he made a newly discovered species cry before he even found out if they could laugh is a truly miserable thing. The other doesn't protest, just giving a pained moan, and he moves through the narrow channel, his nose slowly starting to pick up on a sweet citrusy smell that vaguely resembles lemongrass. It also gets warmer, much, much warmer as he goes, the sunlight dimming behind him, but not going so dark that he can't see anything, because there is a faint blue-green light emanating from deeper in the cave. 

He finds out what that is at the same time as he finds the larger opening. He is on his knees, crouching low, as he sees four eggs, four of the sought-after shining eggs spilling the aurora borealis along the walls and ceiling... in the shape of four figures. They're crudely carved, but they're clearly shaped in a similar away to Dabi. Four Salkeh watching over Dabi who is curled up in what he can only describe as a large, fluffy, makeshift bed built around the blankets he gave the other. 

Dabi mewls at him, a sound that is distinctly cat-like, his bleary eyes blinking up at him, shiny and wet with his tears, his thicker fur pasted to his forehead from his sweat. And it is very warm in the den, Tomura realizes distantly as the small alien writhes in the nest, spreading his legs and showing the hard, flushed cock and dripping cunt, the lips nestled around his base like his dick has replaced where he would expect a clit to be. He feels his face heat and starts to move away. 

"Tomura," Dabi reaches towards him, milky tears slipping over his cheeks. "'M sorry," his voice is watery and thin and his gut sinks. 

"It's alright, I'll wait for you outside--" 

Dabi keens at him, trying to sit up, and when his hands can't reach him, his tail wraps around his wrist. He reaches for the appendage gently and even just the lightest touch has Dabi moaning so loudly, putting all of his sharp teeth on display. "N-need to lay--" He whines, his claws clenching around the blanket and twisting to press his face deeper into it. 

"Okay, that's fine, Dabi." Embarrassment is a heat tingling down his spine as he sees the alien in such an intimate moment. His first instinct is to extract himself to give the other some privacy, but that wars with what he knows about childbirth in his own species alongside the watchful figures that Dabi has made for himself crudely out of his eggs. "Do you want me here? Should I keep watch at the entrance to make sure no one else comes in?" 

Dabi whimpers and his tail pulls on him. "You'll stay?" 

His mouth is dry as he croaks, "If you need me." He's not expecting Dabi to start to purr. He's also not expecting the other to force himself to sit up, claws tangling on his sleeves as he tries to pull him weakly into the nest. 

"T-thought you weren't--" Dabi loses the words in another loud purr as he tries to get him even closer. "Mate, my mate?" 

"Mate?" He doesn't want to push the other away, worried about hurting him, or accidentally getting his gear shredded on those sharp claws, but Dabi is purring and pressing in even closer, shoving his face into his neck and breathing deeply to scent him. 

"Please, please, please. Such a good mate." The other tells him desperately, trying to hook a leg around his hips and pull him closer. "Bringing me food, protecting me, helping make my nest--" Dabi lets out a strange mixture of sounds that the translator can't make sense of. "Be good," he promises, "Be a good mate for you." 

"Dabi," he says as gently as he can, "I can't be your mate." He hates having to say the words as soon as they're out of his mouth, but, "I don't know if we're compatible." And then he wants to slap himself because that should not be the thing that he said. That shouldn't have even crossed his mind. He should have told the other he didn't know those things were-- oh, oh! Is that why he had been so despondent? He thought he was trying to... court him? Tomura's chest tightens as a few more milky tears slip over Dabi's cheeks, his face stricken. 

He's an idiot. He's beyond stupid and this is a terrible idea, but he can't stomach that look on Dabi's face. He can't bear the thought of hurting this creature like this any more than he could leaving him to get captured and abused by some other poacher. He whimpers softly and Tomura... settles more fully into the nest. Dabi's body feels like an inferno, the heat reflected and retained by the blanket he gave him. 

"How can I make this better?" Should he be helping to shift him into a different position? He looks down at the other's stomach and it doesn't seem to have any visible swelling, though he feels like it should given the eggs around the cavern are nearly the size of a pineapple. 

Dabi, maybe his brain cooked through with the heat of his body or the arousal that is making his pussy gush and his cock drip, pulls on him again, his tail shifting from his wrist to up between Tomura's legs. He nearly yelps at the touch, and Dabi chirps and purrs so loudly when he feels his cock beneath the thick fabric. "Mate, mate, mate," he can't tell if the word is a term of endearment or a demand, but Tomura supposes for a species that doesn't constantly have their genitals on display, his body must seem... eager to him. He doesn't know if it's better or worse that he is. That despite everything else, all of the messy things that are happening, Dabi is cute. He's pretty so flushed and needy, his body desperate to be fucked full, and the purrs and moans, the pleading whimpers and whines, how needily he's pulling on him to get him close-- Tomura hasn't had a partner in ages now, and one so eager puts an ill-gotten heat under his skin. 

"Are you sure?" His voice is rough and desperate himself, almost wanting the alien to come to his senses and turn him away. 

"Please, Tomura, hurts," he whimpers, pulling again. 

"Tell me how to make you stop hurting, beautiful." He murmurs, reaching for his gloves. He's burning up, sweat already prickling at his skin beneath his gear, and as he sheds those, Dabi starts to pull more insistently at his jacket. That joins his gloves, his boots, his pants and the thermals beneath all of it, he strips away layer after layer of clothes, and Dabi watches with some fascination as he does. The heat in the cavern is enough for him to barely feel the chill of the outside air that's coming from the entrance. When he's naked too, his cock starts to harden as Dabi spreads his legs wider, letting go of him to keep his sharp claws away from his skin. The fur around his cock and cunt is matted down with how get he is, and Tomura gives into the urge he's had since he saw his dart bounce harmlessly off of his fur, and lets his fingers trace along the fur over the outside of his thigh. 

Dabi purrs again, and the fur, for as tough as it must be, is extremely soft, but dense. It's cloud-like in texture, but there seems to be so much of it, despite how short most of it appears. He tries to gently press his fingers into it, but no matter how warm it is, he doesn't feel the texture of skin beneath, too thick for his touch to sink in. His tail wraps around Tomura's wrist again, grip tight around him, and he brings his hand from the outside of his thigh, to over top of it and then, "Please," he pleads as his cock twitches, the skin there visible and flushed with the heat of his blood. Tomura's breathless as he very gently rubs his fingers along him. Dabi still moans so loudly, back bowing so sharply that he worries he might have hurt him. But he didn't, he's just breathlessly needy as he tries to get more. 

The slick along his cock isn't dissimilar to his own pre, to the vaginal fluid that leaks out of an eager cunt, and when Dabi doesn't growl, snarl, or try to twist away, he lets himself wrap his hand around his length. His cock is the right size for his body, but it's still so small compared to him. Everything about Dabi is small, and he is easily able to have his entire length smothered in his palm, feeling little regular bumps and ridges along his underside that he hadn't been able to see well, but that feel almost as solid as bone beneath his burning velvet skin. It could be bone, he considers distantly. Some species have bones there. It's hard to focus on any coherent thought when Dabi's pretty blue eyes are squeezed shut and he's writhing, his little hips fucking up into his fist and his pretty lips open on  every gasp and moan that he's letting out. 

"Tomura, Tomura, Tomura," the alien keens and he has to stroke him, has to twist his wrist and pump him, slowly increasing the pressure until he finds the things that make him feel good. He thinks he knows when a fresh pulse of slick streams out of his cunt, soaking the blanket beneath them and filling the air with more of that lemongrass scent. "Inside, please, please, need you, please--" 

It's perhaps the only time any human man has ever said, "I don't know if I'll fit, baby," and actually meant it, actually been uncertain. He doesn't know if Dabi can take his cock, certainly not without stretching him for it. But he does take his other hand and drag his fingers through the thick puddle of his slick. He makes sure his fingers are coated thoroughly before he brings them to the puffy lips of his cunt and starts to rub at that soft skin gently, watching with fascination as his anatomy opens for him. The lips spread wider, his cock gets a little longer as it pushes even further out of his body, and he can see the little hole between his legs more clearly. Tomura keeps his touch gentle as he circles him with a finger, and more slick rushes to meet him as Dabi moans and he hears his claws pierce through the blanket. Tomura circles and rubs, but the muscles are soft, giving, and just as eager as the rest of Dabi's body. 

His pussy squeezes around his digit deliciously as he pushes it inside. It's probably a miracle his slick isn't burning off his skin and that his vagina doesn't have teeth or spikes or something inside. It's just hot, wet, and tight, sucking at his finger as he presses it in all the way to the base as Dabi sobs his pleasure. He tries to go slowly, feeling half-crazed as he feels Dabi's body trying to suck at him to get more. He strokes along the soft muscles and feels them give and press back as they undulate against him and he is achingly hard himself as he imagines how tight they'll squeeze him if he can actually give Dabi his cock safely. 

Tomura can't help it, he doesn't know what the other man would want, he's not even certain how the Salkeh normally mate, but he is only human. He leans over the creature's much smaller body and he catches his panting mouth in a kiss. A mouth that is full of sharp teeth that are strong enough to rend bone, that he should be terrified of despite how small and sweet the other feels beneath his lips, but Dabi knows this. His people have a concept of kissing, because his mouth is messy and eager against him, kissing back as his arms wrap around his neck to keep him there and his legs try to wrap around his hips to bring those closer as well. He manages to hook his thighs around his hips, but he can't pull him all the way in, and Dabi lets out a frustrated chitter as he uses his tail to wrap around one of Tomura's thighs and try to pull him even closer. He can't help the breathless laugh he lets out against the other's mouth, and he starts to press in a second finger to try and quell some of his need, stroking his cock in time with the movements along his walls. 

That doesn't calm the creature at all, and he uses his sharp teeth to nip at Tomura's chin, the points dangerous, but not breaking his skin as he does. "Mate me, correctly." He demands, digging his dew claws into Tomura's back just hard enough to put a tantalizing sting of pain under his skin. 

"I'm opening you up, Dabi." He murmurs, drawing his fingers back and pumping them in more deliberately. Dabi keens, his back arching as his cunt gushes around him. "You're so small, little one," his own voice getting rougher as he feels the deceptively delicate body against him. "I don't want to break you." 

"Break me if it means I'll be full," he demands, pounding a fist weakly against the back of his neck. 

"Such a demanding little size queen." He can't keep the warmth out of his voice. 

Dabi curses. The translator knows it's a curse, but it doesn't know how to translate the saying, not having enough of a sample of things on Dabi's world to pull from as he does so. "You are a bad mate!" He snarls, but he's not pulling away, he's just whining and it should not be as endearing as it is, making Tomura's insides warmer as he presses a kiss to Dabi's cheek, 

"Let me give you one more and then you can try my cock, alright?" 

It seems to be enough for the other man because he angles his hips up into his touches again and Tomura presses in a third finger. It already feels like a tight squeeze, but even then the Salkeh doesn't seem satisfied, his cock dripping and such an angry red at his tip, his hips constantly rutting up to fuck himself harder on his digits. He presses more kisses to his cheek, down along his slender neck, chancing licking at his fur which is such a strange textural experience against his tongue, but the other's fur tastes the way it smells, with a strangely herbal tang coming through as well. He doesn't know if he should stop, if he's accidentally going to poison himself by licking at the other's flesh, but Dabi starts to purr even louder as he gets impossibly wetter and Tomura quickly dismisses any hang-ups about the texture. He'll hack up a hairball if it means that he can keep making Dabi feel good. 

He takes the third finger easily enough, and Tomura hopes that means that whatever this state is as he prepares to lay his egg means that his insides are as elastic as they must be for that task. He doesn't want to tear the other open around his cock that he guesses must be much larger than any that Dabi has had before just based on the size of his species. He withdraws his fingers and Dabi starts to purr even more loudly, the sound rumbling out of his chest like a warp engine switching gears, and sending vibrations across both of their skin. Tomura smears the fluid all over his hand along his cock, the touch there making his own need more than insistent as just the cursory strokes make him desperate for the release he was trying to ignore his body craving. 

When he lines up, Dabi pulls on him again. His head looks too big for him and as he does start to slowly press inside, the stretch of Dabi's cunt is deliciously obscene as it spreads so wide for him. The pressure and heat is blinding as he pops his head inside, Dabi's body convulsing around the intrusion and then tightening so much Tomura nearly sees stars as Dabi's cock twitches in his hand, his cunt gushing, his seed spilling thickly all over his hand and stomach as the other comes from that first stretch of him. A heady rush goes through his body as those muscles start to loosen again as Dabi writhes and moans against the nest, his head thrown back and eyes squeezed tight as pleasure seems to wrack his body. He pushes in a little harder, a little deeper, and the other keens, but his body opens for him. He sinks all the way inside and Tomura thinks he's going to lose his mind. He's so tight, so hot, so wet. Dabi's body clings to him, texture along his walls that isn't like any human or alien he's ever fucked before. 

And he's breathless when he sinks all the way inside and he can see the press of himself as a faint shadow along Dabi's stomach. He tries to roll his hips just a bit, and he can see the muscles in his abdomen flutter, can feel them, and he can see how the movement shifts inside. Fucking hell. He's not certain he's ever felt his arousal burn this hot beneath his skin and it's only made all the stronger when Dabi opens his eyes just a sliver so he can see that shining blue and his breath trembles as he demands, 

"More." 

He can't really stop himself from giving the other everything that he can. Tomura fucks into Dabi's body, starting slowly, but as the alien moans and squeezes around him, his cock still hard even after his orgasm, and makes it so abundantly clear that he wants every inch of him that his body can take, he can't hold back. Soon their movements are rough, shifting the blankets beneath them, his mouth dragging over wherever he can reach as he looks for places to make both of their pleasure burn hotter. Dabi doesn't have nipples or a belly button under his fur, but he does have a place on the side of his neck just under his jaw, where a sweeter scent is mingling with that of his slick, and his eyes roll back when he sinks his teeth in there at the same time as he thrusts as deeply as he can go into the other's body. He makes such a wonderful symphony of sounds as Tomura tries to write pleasure into both of their bodies, switching between moans, chitters, and purrs constantly. 

His breaths are growing heavier, the heat between their bodies nearly unbearable as they move, and his pleasure starts to go so hot, tightening the muscles in his thighs and through his pelvis. His balls are drawing closer to his base as his orgasm pushes on his nerves. He doesn't know how Dabi knows that he's getting close, but he starts chirping, making short bright sounds as he tries to pull him closer, his tail wrapping tight around one of his thighs to try and drag him in deeper. He's not expecting his cock to hit something deep inside of the alien's body, something that twitches and flutters against his head before it latches on like there's a tiny mouth sucking at his tip deep inside of Dabi. The surprise, the sensation of that is what sends him over the edge. He lets out a rough groan as he is held deep in the other's body, cumming hard and shaking as his orgasm lasts much longer than it ever does normally. And he just keeps cumming. He's certain that it should be painful, that his body shouldn't be able to give the other so much, but there is a little bulge forming on his stomach where his tip sits, where he's filling the other's body. Tomura can't help the thin whine he lets out as Dabi purrs and purrs as that place inside of him pulls out every drop of cum that he thinks he's ever been able to produce in his life in, god, it must take at least a minute or two, and when he's finally finished, those internal muscles finally let go of him and Dabi slumps bonelessly to the nest, his cock softening and his body letting Tomura pull his out. There's an aching oversensitivity there and he ends up shifting so that he doesn't crush the other beneath him, laying back on the blanket and just trying to catch his fucking breath. 

And then Dabi shifts, half crawling on top of him, his face pressing tightly up into his neck, his tail tangled around one of his legs, and his arms back around him, clinging to his body, and he starts to purr and purr. And Tomura decides he doesn't give a single fuck, he's too busy petting at the soft fur all along the alien's body. 

///

Tomura, for as much as he seemed confused about the mating process at the start, is a good mate for him as his heat swells through his body. His cock is so much bigger than any Dabi has ever seen before, but he supposes that shouldn't be a surprise when he is a much bigger creature in general, and he feels so good inside of his body. Dabi doesn't know how he ever could have pretended to be satisfied with his own tail before when he fills every space of him and gives him so much seed that it leaves his breeding pouch distended with the fluid as his egg forms. And Tomura's body is different underneath his hides. His skin is warmer and more of one even color save for when he's flushed, and he isn't covered in fur elsewhere, which he supposes is why he needs all of the hides that he wears to stay warm. And he's... good. He's sweet. He brings him water, both warmed by a fire outside to help clean up the stickiness from his fur and cold from the river to drink. He brings him food when he's hungry, and he gives him his cock again and again whenever he craves that impossible, delicious fullness.

And being so full, getting so much from the other in such a short period of time means that it is barely three days before he feels that hardness forming low in his abdomen. It doesn't hurt, it's just a different kind of pressure and he is purring and purring as he feels the egg becoming more and more solid. He's never been able to form his egg so quickly and he immediately knows that this will be the shortest heat he's ever had. he's not certain if that's because Tomura was able to fill him so thoroughly, or if it's because he made sure he was so well-fed throughout his entire preparation period, but he doesn't care either way. Even if the egg won't be fertile, and none of his eggs ever are, it still puts something deep and satisfying in his body as he realizes that he will be able to lay so easily for once in his life. 

When his body finally starts to feel as though the pressure is getting too great he starts to nose at Tomura's neck, chittering and chirping to try and get him to wake from his sleep. The human pulls him closer, into his side and presses his face between his ears, nuzzling sweetly into his hair and making Dabi's whole body even warmer and softer. He's a good mate. He's warm and soft, and more affectionate than his father ever was with his mother during her heats. He hopes Shoto finds a mate this sweet someday. 

"What is it, little one? Do you need it again?" He murmurs, his other hand moving down Dabi's body, he touches his lower stomach, feeling the harder press of the egg beneath his skin and Dabi moans softly. His cock is starting to harden again, the pressure inside of him putting good pressure everywhere, just like the other's cock. 

He chitters, rolling onto his back and pulling at the human, being careful of his claws. For as strong as Tomura was to be able to hunt a Vaak so easily, without his hides on, his skin is soft and easy to break. He doesn't want to hurt the other. So he is careful as he gently pulls at him and gets him between his legs. He needs the other to fill him again, to make sure that his walls are already soft and gushing to make room for the press of the egg as it comes. 

Tomura doesn't hesitate to help him get out the egg. He presses inside as he kisses along his neck, licking at his mating gland. He's nibbled on it a few times throughout his heat and each time he does, Dabi only grows more and more desperate for him to bite at his properly. But Tomura doesn't have the same kind of bump on his neck and he worries that he won't be able to give him that. Maybe humans do something else to show that they have taken a mate. He doesn't know. He doesn't have the focus in him to bother to ask. All he cares about is how good it feels when Tomura rubs their cocks together, when he presses his length between his folds and moves against him to stimulate his nerves until his lips are puffy and his cunt is wet and dripping, making sure he coats himself in Dabi's fluids like he wants to soak his scent into his skin before he's even gotten inside. But then he does start to push in and he goes absolutely breathless. Stars dance behind his eyes as his body is made to stretch, and stretch, and stretch open as the other creature makes his insides part around his length. 

He can't be blamed for how good that feels, can't be shamed for how quickly just that entrance and the first few gentle rolling thrusts make him tremble through the heights of his pleasure as they come crashing through him. He certainly does not think he can be blamed for that feeling so perfect that Dabi feels his egg loosen itself from the walls of his breeding sack, and before his mate has even cum to slick his walls further, it is starting to shift slightly lower. Dabi keens, not having words for the feeling of that pressing against the inner muscles that are usually so tight to hold in his mate's seed inside, being stimulated at the same time as they press on his outsides as well on each deep, languid thrust from the human. Dabi can hardly breathe. Normally laying, even when he was allowed to do so, was painful. It was so much pressure and such sharp discomfort as the egg pressed out of his body, but now he is dizzy from how good it feels, the movement on each side of that ring coaxing it open more and more. He feels delirious as he realizes that he's opening up for it without the agonizing cramping that usually comes with this part of the process. 

Tomura mates him slow and deep, one hand, his hands are soft, his claws thin and trimmed back to the beds of his fingertips so that he can't rend flesh, moves to Dabi's cock. He's still hard from how his body is forcing more and more blood there to make laying easier, and that further spike of pleasure opens him enough for the muscles inside to latch onto Tomura's cock again. He's never been able to mount another, but it must feel as good for the human as that suction does for him, because each time his body is ready to receive his release and attaches to him, it hardly takes long for him to shudder through his own orgasm, the first pulse of his fluids sending Dabi into another of his own. 

And as soon as his insides tighten, his egg starts to move. he unlatches from Tomura's cock, and he lets out a soft sound of surprise before he pulls out, seeing the bulge in his stomach beginning to shift. 

"Oh," he breathes, bringing a hand to Dabi's stomach and pressing lightly. Dabi moans as his pelvis tingles with fresh pleasure as the egg moves. It feels heavier than it normally does, though he supposed that's because he hasn't been starving for two weeks before pressing out an egg with a shell barely thick enough to hold. He can feel the ridges and patterns of his shell moving along his walls this time, the sign of a well-formed egg that makes his whole body hum with pride. "Already?" Tomura asks, sounding awed as the bump disappears from the surface of his stomach, as the egg presses into his vaginal canal, and his hand moves lower too. He spreads Dabi's lips wider without even needing to be told, the mixture of his cum and Dabi's slick easing the way so that he can press out the egg. It's not an hours-long struggle that leaves him completely drained this time. It's an easy, gentle slide, his insides already so stretched and used to the delicious feeling of Tomura's cock pushing in so deep. Dabi purrs and purrs as the egg slips free of his body and settles gently into the soft nest beneath him. 

Tomura's hands leave his body and he reaches for the egg, and a flicker of fear goes through him. He said he wasn't a thief, that he didn't want his egg, but it could have been a lie. He could take it now, and Dabi isn't sure that he would have the strength to stand and chase after him to get it back. Even if it is empty, he doesn't want to give it up. Panic surges through his chest--

And Tomura lifts it and offers it to him. The egg has the shiny iridescent color that a strong shell should, the bones he'd eaten throughout the past few weeks imparting it with what it needed to form so well. And the swirls, they're more distinct, better formed than any other that he's ever seen, creating deep ridges and grooves that make it look like something truly unique and lovely. He's never seen another egg like this one, and he thinks that must be because no one else of his kind has ever had a mate like Tomura. He can't help it when he starts to purr and purr as he gently takes the egg from his hands, intending to lick it clean, but Tomura takes some of the cloth he first gave him, unsoiled from their mating, and begins to help him clean it off. He doesn't steal it, he doesn't take it to be crushed the way his father used to take his other eggs. He watches over Dabi, his expression warm, as he holds it. 

There isn't anything inside. He hadn't let himself even pretend that it would be different because he had Tomura. It's his body that is incapable of creating a viable seed, be it in his womb or otherwise, and he can't feel the pulse of warmth that would be inside if it were alive. He can't hear the shifting inside that would indicate that there was something inside. But it's easier not to care about that now. If there is no baby then he can hollow this egg like he has his others, he can keep it close forever, a little part of him and Tomura even if the human tells him he still never intended to take him as a proper mate. 

///

Tomura isn't expecting to get to see Dabi lay his egg, and he's a little stunned and dreading the eventual conversation about the egg itself. About... the child that they may have now after he made himself at home in Dabi's bed. He doesn't know what to think, what to do. He certainly wouldn't be the first human to go off-planet, meet a new species, and immediately copulate, potentially spawning hybrid children, but he didn't think he would actually be the type to do so. He also didn't think he would be the hind to see Dabi holding the egg, the shining, swirling shell nearly eight inches tall and six wide, and wonder how that could have not only gotten out of the little creature, but also to keep finding himself feeling a warmth in his chest as he sees Dabi curling around it, pressing his cheek to it to check its temperature, his ear to it to listen for whatever he expects to hear inside. He doesn't know how he's supposed to ask what this means going forward, but he has to know as the next day he finds Dabi without his genitals visible again, blinking and looking at his surroundings much more carefully, his blue eyes brighter and more aware than they have been for the past few days. 

Tomura has to ask-- and Dabi stands, egg in his arms, and goes outside. 

He immediately scrambles to put all of his clothes back on, having been in only his thermals from how hot the den was, but he knows that he can't let the other just wander around, not when it's been two days and he has no idea if there are other poachers that have already arrived in the area. The other man has been practically non-verbal for days, so he gets into his clothes as quickly as possible and stumbles out into the snow, 

"Dabi, wait--!" 

The other creature is already down by the river and only glances up at him before he crouches into the snow by the bank, waiting. Tomura does his best to get down onto the ground, though he doubts he is anywhere near as graceful or quick as the other man. Still, Dabi waits for him to get down and move up to the edge of the river with him. 

"What are you doing?" 

"Emptying the egg. It'll rot if I leave the stuff inside." His voice is a little scratchy from how much he's been purring and moaning, and he doesn't sound particularly happy about the prospect either. 

"...Rot?" 

Dabi doesn't look at him as he nods, turning the egg onto its tip so that he can use one of his sharp claws to scrape away gently at the surface until he scrapes through enough of the shell to pierce his claw inside. He tips it onto is side and lets the liquid drain out, a milky mixture that looks startlingly similar to their fluids as they gushed out of Dabi with the egg as it was laid, but no clear part, no yolk as he was taught to expect from an egg laid to carry a living creature of any kind. 

"I can't lay healthy eggs," his ears droop low and he won't look up at Tomura as he says that. "I'm sorry." He drains the rest of the fluid and rinses it out in the water until it passes his test, and even after just a minute or two open and not in the water, the inner shell begins to oxidize and it starts to glow a gentle blue. 

"You don't have to apologize, Dabi. I'm not sure I would have been ready to be any kind of parent to a child." He doesn't bother to say it's a relief the egg was infertile. "I don't know if I'm... a suitable mate either." He says more carefully. 

Dabi's shoulders hunch in on themselves. "Okay." He hugs his egg close to his chest, "We need to leave, don't we? I'm sorry for the delay. I should have had you get the fruit as soon as you told me it would be important for us to leave soon." 

Tomura wants to protest, wants to... he doesn't know, give the other some time? A minute alone, maybe, but Dabi is pushing up from the snow and starting towards his ship, still holding the egg carefully, but straightening his spine. Maybe the other doesn't want that though. He doesn't know, he just knows that they do need to make up for lost time. 

He gets the other situated into the ship, having someone in the seat beside his own for the first time, and he makes certain that everything is ready. Dabi still holds onto the hollowed egg, as his ears pitch forward with his interest as he starts up the engines. He keeps finding himself glancing over at Dabi as he starts the final checks, starts the take off procedures, the moment that the engines start and they begin to rise. He brings the ship up past the trees, ascending carefully, and Dabi's nose is all but pressed to the glass as he sees the forest from above. His pupils have blown wide, his tongue peeking out from between his lips like a cat excited to be given a new toy and Tomura feels helpless to the warmth in his chest. 

Space travel was something old and commonplace when he was born. He had been to Earth's moon for a field trip when he was only five. He knows he was impressed then, but since that point, he's spent most of his life in space ships or on other planets. He hasn't even been back to Earth in six years. But seeing the look of wonder on the other's face is... something else. 

"You're going to want to sit back," he instructs, not entirely sure why his throat feels tight. "We're going to go fast to get out of your atmosphere." 

Dabi sits back and wraps his tail around his egg for added security. 

He wonders what it says about him that he still can't help but feel a deep endearment for the creature when they enter hyperspace and the lurch of movement has Dabi throwing up on his floor.

///

The trip to Coth E1 is uneventful as far as the flight goes. The autopilot functions as it's supposed to, they don't get into any skirmishes or fly into an asteroid field, they just go from point A to point B. But the journey itself, having Dabi in the ship for a day and a half is different. About three hours after they left his planet, Dabi hadn't been so clingy and protective of his egg anymore, asking if there was somewhere he could put it where it wouldn't be broken, and Tomura had carefully shown him the smugglers hatch, using his coat to wrap it up in an extra layer of padding even before he put it in a secure box with a spare tarp. 

"My instincts are normalizing again." Is all Dabi had bothered to say when he'd asked if that would really be alright for the rest of the trip. 

He let it go then, and over the next hour he'd shown him around the rest of his small ship. But when that had been finished, Dabi had wanted to sit back at the front of the ship to look out the window. And Tomura had done his best to answer any and every question the Salkeh had about space and the things they passed as they flew. When Dabi had run out of questions, he had just looked out the window until his eyes grew too heavy and he let out a soft defeated coo before he had slumped low in the seat and fallen asleep. Tomura picked him up then, easily lifting the small creature, and carried him back to his cot. Dabi hadn't woken as he was moved, but he had immediately clutched onto his pillow and blanket, tucking his face in tight to the fabric and purring the same way he had when he had been tucked against his chest in their nest. 

He sat on the edge of the bed watching the other sleep for an agonizingly long time. 

///

Flying in the ship is fascinating. It's amazing to be able to travel through the night and see bursts of stars that are the suns of worlds so far away that even in a ship like Tomura's they wouldn't ever be able to reach them. Coming off of his cycle, out of the haze of desperation and longing he'd felt to be claimed by the other, his wonderment at being able to be in the sky is amazing. However, landing is horrible. 

He loses the little he managed to eat when he woke up again as the ship lurches as it comes down in the docking bay with many more ships, some much, much bigger that Tomura's, but the human anticipated his sickness this time and gave him a receptacle to be sick into, the mess being sealed away in seconds rather than spilling anywhere that will have to be cleaned. He also brings him a cup of water to drink to help clean out his mouth. 

"...Sorry." 

"It's fine, Dabi. Lots of species get motion sickness." He then turns his attention back to the panel of buttons in front of him. He hits a few and then a new thing opens across the window, partially blocking the view of the place they've landed in. "Shigaraki Tomura, docked in ship XR0U280. I'm calling to report I have an unregistered sapient species with me who would like to register with the Foundry." 

There's a slight pause and then more talking that Dabi can't understand despite the collar. 

"I'm a wildlife photographer," Tomura tells the other voice. "I came across him while visiting a nearby planet, I don't have access to that kind of equipment." 

There's another burst of speech from the other side, and it sounds calm. Tomura doesn't seem upset either. 

"Thank you, I'll have him put on a helmet before opening the doors." The little square goes away and Tomura turns to him. "Okay, they're going to send someone to check you over, alright? They're going to make sure you're healthy and that none of the things on this planet will make you sick." 

"Okay." 

Tomura brings him a dome to wear around his head and he hooks up a thing to it so that he can breathe, and in just a few minutes, he is opening the door to what looks like another human, and what looks like a reptile that walks on two legs. Tomura blinks when he sees the lizard-person. 

"Spinner? I didn't know you were out here." 

The lizard says something in turn, but Tomura is still calm and the other human, who is shorter than Tomura and that has lumps on their chest that Tomura doesn't produce something from inside of one of the pockets of the hide that they are wearing. They pass it off to Tomura and he turns back to him. 

"This is a universal translator, if you put it on, it will let you understand everyone who talks to you, not just me. It will also start to log your language so that anyone else who meets a Salkeh while wearing this, will be able to understand their speech and talk back to them." 

"Okay." 

"It's going to sting like the collar did." He warns and Dabi is not thrilled about that, but he allows the collar to be swapped for the new one. The sharp jolt that goes through him is easier to stomach this time because he was prepared for it, but Dabi can't say he enjoys it as it happens. 

"Hello," the other human says, "My name is Lilea Sylas, I work for the Foundry and am going to help you to register your species. This is my colleague Dr. Shuichi Iguchi. He's going to give you a check-up." 

"Okay." 

"If you have any questions or need anything explained, all you have to do is ask, we'll do our best to make sure that everything is as comfortable as possible." 

He turns back to Tomura, guilt twisting his stomach, "You'll stay, right?" He doesn't know if he can ask for that. They're not mates, after all. 

"Of course I will." He reassures without blinking. 

And he doesn't move an inch as the other two begin to ask him questions and check him over. 

///

It takes four days for them to do the full gamut of tests to make certain that Dabi isn't carrying any pathogens that he might give to others, and to determine that he isn't going to die to any of the natural ones here. He shouldn't go into weather exceeding twenty-one degrees Celsius for more than one hour without lots of fluids and even then he will have a risk of overheating if he stays in direct sunlight, he should limit his intake of grains to a maximum of five percent of his daily food, and he is deathly allergic to guava of all things. They also determine the dark spots and infertility are due to an autoimmune disease, not one that's transmittable, but that is hereditary, and likely something the rest of his former pack were also carriers of. 

He's not sure if finding out that information makes Dabi feel better or worse, but Tomura feels a hell of a lot better when the Foundry finds the file Proximacard made available for settlers going to Ipra 309T on the Salkeh and immediately send a cease and desist along with an order for immediate closure of the planet. The Foundry, or likely one of the exploration companies that work more closely with them like Exovin, is dispatched six hours after they arrived on day one to put a stop to it and make sure they all left. He's certain that when they find out, and he's sure they will, about Dabi's people being hunted for their eggs, they will put a blockade around the planet as well until they speak to the Salkeh. He doubts Dabi's people will trade away their young, but it will be up to them if they want any shell pieces after they've hatched to be illegal to be sold as well, if the rest of his people even want anything to do with the outside world. 

But at the end of the four days, Dabi is free to wander the planet, he is given a list of all the ones that he will also be able to travel to without having any adverse side-effects, or he can go home. The Foundry will offer transportation if Tomura has his own business to get back to. 

"Okay." Aside from answering questions, Dabi has been quiet for the past few days and it sinks his stomach to see him so despondent. Sylas leaves the ship, and Tomura promises to go out for drinks and to catch up with Spinner when he can, but he gets them out of the ship so it's just he and Dabi alone. When the others are gone Dabi turns to him, "Can I have my egg?" 

"Of course," he makes sure the bay windows are shuttered and then he goes down into the smuggler's hatch and retrieves the bundle. The full shell inside must have oxidized over the past few days of the trip, and he can see the lights dancing across the patterns that swirl over the shell. It feels much less fragile than a chicken egg, but he's still extremely careful with it as he brings it back up to Dabi. 

He takes it and holds it to his chest, "I can go back with the other ship." 

"You don't have to," he says immediately. It's stupid, he should really be distancing himself as much as possible from this situation before someone finds out what he normally does when he's going for wildlife 'shoots'. "I don't mind taking you home." 

Dabi's ears droop and he doesn't look up at him. "No. You've wasted enough time on me. You must have more important things to do."

Tomura isn't certain how he can tell Dabi that nothing he's ever done feels as important as this. Not when he can't really find words for it himself. "I really don't. If you want to go home, I'll be happy to take you." But he can't stop himself from adding, "but if you want to stay and explore, here or some of the other places you can visit, I'll go with you there too." 

That finally gets Dabi looking at him again. "...Why?" 

Why indeed. "Can't I just want to spend more time with you?" 

"No one else ever has." 

"I'll let you in on a universal secret," he tells the other. "Shitty families come from every planet. But they're not here now. You are the first of your kind to ever leave your planet, and you can go wherever you want and we can travel for as long as you want." He needs to stop his mouth from saying these things. He's not a child with some grand view of the galaxy who believes that every new world is an endless possibility. He's a criminal, traveling with him will be dangerous, Dabi will always be in danger until the fascination with the eggs dies. He has to be clear about that. "I would love to have you as a companion for as long as you'd like to stay." 

Dabi's bright blue eyes search his face for a long minute, and then he lets out a shaky breath. "I want to stay." 

Good. There's no other name for the lightness that fills his chest than relief as he realizes that he won't have to leave Dabi behind. "I need to tell you some other things about me. If you want to change your mind afterward, I'll still take you home if you want me to." 

///

Six Years Later

"Two of whatever you have with the domed ice, but absolutely no guava." The little bar that he's wandered into is off of the main thoroughfare, wide bay doors and a large u-shaped counter with several people sitting and sipping at drinks packed full of ice, waiting out the Vebbore heatwave that lasts about two hours as the planet's axis tilts them a little closer to the sun in this region. He sees a few Earth fruits on the counter and being mixed into drinks alcoholic and not, but no immediate signs of guava, still. Better safe than sorry. 

"Tomura Shigaraki." 

He tenses slightly and turns, hating that he has to look up at the middle-aged red-haired human that's speaking to him. He is even less thrilled to see a Constellation's Collective badge pinned to his chest. "Can I help you, officer?" 

"You have two outstanding--" 

"My outstanding warrants in this system were quashed two months ago." He says immediately, flicking open his wallet to pay for the two drinks that have been set in front of him. "Thank you," he acknowledges the bartender. He then lifts his ID for scanning, as is procedure in this system for any arrests. The officer grits his teeth as he does so, his device only taking a second to match his profile to the one in the system and confirm his statement. 

"You're under arrest." 

That... actually does surprise him. "You just saw my warrants--" 

"For the possession of illegal goods." 

"I can assure you I am of age to purchase a slushy, even an alcoholic one." He says flatly. 

The officer glares at him. "That," he says, gesturing to his neck, "Is Salkeh shell. Possession of which is illegal unless you can verify it was obtained ethically." 

Tomura nearly rolls his eyes. One of these kinds of cops. "It was obtained ethically--" he hears a distinctive chitter and braces himself. Sure enough, not three seconds later, a solid weight connects with his shoulders, Dabi's legs hooking quickly around his waist and his tail steadying them both as he reaches over his shoulder to take one of the cups. 

"You were supposed to wait in the ship, it's too warm out here for you." 

"You were taking too long." Dabi says in turn, taking a big bite out of the snow cone dome of ice over the cup. He purrs happily at the coolness and only then seems to take notice of the man still glaring at him. "Who's this?" 

"Pig." The cop's lip curls up into a sneer, and Dabi's tail flicks. 

"Oink. What's he want? I took care of your warrants." 

"He wants to know if my necklace was sourced ethically." 

Dabi snickers, shifting to press a kiss to the shell piece that he'd etched carefully and attached to his translator. The larger piece of the shell sits just under his jaw on the right side of his neck, a ring of Dabi's teeth casting little nebulas through where he thinned the sections for him, since he couldn't have survived taking a proper bite there. "Of course it was, you helped make it." He purrs, rubbing their necks together. His blunt human teeth couldn't have pierced his fur in turn, and instead they had found someone who could embroider with hair, and Tomura had given up a few locks so that he could have his teeth marks in his collar as well. "My mate is welcome to as much of our eggs as he wants." He turns his attention back to the cop, "If that's all?" 

The man clearly wants to argue, but they haven't broken any laws yet, and there are far too many people around who would likely take umbrage with him attempting to arrest Dabi at the very least. Afterall, when he's clinging to him like this, his dark talons disappear against Tomura's black clothes, making him look far smaller and more helpless than he would otherwise. The officer sneers at them one more time, pushing Tomura's wallet back into his hands before he turns and leaves the shop. He watches him go, making sure he actually leaves and isn't waiting outside to grab them as soon as they go, but Dabi is busy gobbling up the rest of the ice from the top of his drink and then quickly slurping down the contents, immediately reaching for Tomura's as well. 

He presses a kiss to the tip of his nose before he relinquishes it, knowing his mate is just not built for this kind of heat. "Did you decide what you want to do tonight?" 

"Yeah! I was talking to a Koquro woman at the bay and she said that there's a boat race after dark along the river, it's really dangerous because it's all in the dark except for the algae that glows as they stir it up." He nuzzles back against his cheek to whisper, "And I heard there's a lot of people trading things." 

"Hmm, we should probably make sure to refuel before we go then." Because Dabi has been having a very good time lately hunting down anyone who breaks the rules of going to his home planet and stealing their eggs. If he's planning on committing a few murders tonight, then they should be ready to leave as soon as possible. His mate starts to purr immediately at not being told no, as if Tomura can ever tell Dabi no over anything. But it does also earn him a kiss from his mate, so he's certainly not complaining. 

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Bound for Hewn City

Balthazar x Reader, Azriel x Reader - Angst- One Shot

Azriel owes a debt and fate has its own plans.

“He fought for his life but finally fell captive, certain he'd come to the end of his days. His fight was over, his fate was sealed by the will of a leader of a rogue war band.”

TW: character death, alcohol, language

“Promise you’ll be careful?”

“Of course love.”

A small smile battles against the dread I fear each time he leaves. Eight years, now. Eight years since he defected from the Illyrian army, tired of the backwards ways that were too slow to change, and decided he’d be the change in his own way.

The night he’d found me tied down, my father’s merciless hands pinning me down, moments away from making that life altering incision, robbing me of flight for the rest of my days.

We fled and never looked back.

Balthazar’s hand reaches my face, his palm a warm, comforting touch molded perfectly to the rounded curvature of my cheek. I lean into it, never growing tired of his touch.

My lashes flutter involuntarily at the connection. As I look into his eyes, my heart squeezes. “Sure you don’t want to go for one more round in the bedroom?” I tease, knowing very well that our girls wouldn’t leave us alone for a moment to do such a thing. In fact, said little girls, are peeking around the corner now, giggling as Bal gives me another kiss.

“Hurry back, okay? I’ll be waiting patiently.”

“You? Patient? I never knew you to be a liar, love.”

I roll my eyes at the jest. Patience isn’t exactly my strong suit.

Balthazar crouches down, the girls running to his arms. “Daddy!!” Celeste’s little voice is pleading as she gives him the biggest eyes possible. “Can you bring us back lolli’s this time, pleeeeaasseee?”

Balthazar pretends to contemplate the request, as if there has ever been a time he hasn’t brought them back for the girls.

“If you promise to be super good for momma, I’ll bring some back for you, yeah?”

Celeste looks to her little sister with a grin, they both cheer gleefully practically knocking him over as they swarm him for one more hug. He presses a kiss to their foreheads, mussing their hair with a broad palm playfully. “I’ll be back soon.”

His strong form raises up from his crouching position, wings tucking in tight as he moves swiftly forward, pulling me into his arms, peppering my head and cheek with kisses, before bringing his lips to mine, with a warm kiss, full of promise. I relax into his grasp, reveling in the kiss. “And Bluebell seeds for my wildflower.”

I smile at the gesture. Flower seeds aren’t necessities like the vegetable ones for our gardens, nevertheless he knows what joy they bring me.

And with that, he’s on his way to fetch supplies in the Hewn City. I watch him as he walks through the wards surrounding our home. They’re not the best, but we’ve learned to weave magic over the years, they’re enough to help keep our quaint little cabin out of view. I don’t miss the misty eyes of the girls as they watch the empty space where he’d been.

——————————————

It was the middle of the night when they came.

The girls were sound asleep in bed with me, as they always were when Bal was away.

The first sign was the unmistakable boom of Illyrian wings, of several wings, there was no hiding that sound from even the sleepiest of ears.

“Girls” I whispered to wake them.

I signaled in the candlelight showing them where to hide. The loose floorboard under the bed with a shelter big enough for the two of them.

I geared up as quickly as possible. Suiting up with my leathers that Bal had worked tirelessly on for months. Our first taste of freedom after leaving the war camp, our first “fuck you” to the patriarchal bullshit that had oppressed me for so long. On our fifth anniversary, he surprised me with my very own siphons. He’d worked hard in obtaining those, crafting wood carvings, cultivating our property, and selling our goods whenever it was safe to, and was able to discreetly have a set made for me.

My heart sung when he’d presented them to me in a hand carved box of his making. The meaning was not lost on me. Yes, they would allow me to channel my power and defend myself- but they also represented exactly what we’d left Illyria for, equality. They signified that I was indeed, Bal’s equal in every way.

My siphons glowed brightly, he’d chosen a blue to match my favorite flower, the Bluebell.

I held my head high as I exited my home, my wings flaring wide in a show of defiance as I greeted the rogue band of Illyrian warriors at my door.

My siphons glowed brightly under the moonlight. Twelve towering males stood before me.

Many had fought them.

Many had died.

The leader, the largest of the males took me in, eyes catching on my siphons. In the dark his gaze was calculating and something like admiration shown in them as he took in the female he was was about to overtake- the only female Illyrian to ever don siphons.

His low, gravelly voice finally broke through the night. “Where is your husband?”

I was going to die.

I unsheathed my weapons and my siphons flared brighter.

But I would not die without a fight.

“I wait for a man who is bound for Hewn City, flying alone fetching seeds and supplies.

Leaving behind his home in the canyon wife and two children with tears in their eyes.”

———————-

Azriel was exhausted. Between Rhys and Feyre being too busy ruling the Night Court while simultaneously juggling parenting and all the joys that come with it, Mor still playing Courtier and Cassian dealing with the Illyrian war camps, helping with the Valkyries when needed, and preparing for the arrival of he and Nesta’s little one, it left Azriel taking the brunt of top secret missions.

Which brought him to the gods-awful Hewn City.

The Moonstone palace, at least, was a reprieve.

And as much as Azriel hated the Hewn City, there was a particular pleasure hall serving ale that rivaled even the best that Velaris had to offer.

And gods, he needed a drink after dealing with Keir all day.

After a stupid amount of time trying to flag down the bartender Azriel noticed another Illyrian male enter the bar.

“Fantastic.” Azriel muttered to himself. His disdain towards the Illyrians and their backward ways was not unknown among their kind.

Between Azriel’s dislike of his own kind and the fact that this male was in the Hewn City, the “probable threat” analysis was not boding well for the newcomer.

Alas, Azriel remained seated at the bar, sipping his brew and listening for any alert from his shadows.

To Azriel’s surprise the male had kept his distance instead of making the usual insults toward a “scarred bastard” of Illyrian upbringing. The male simply sat, ordered a light fare for dinner, and minded his own business.

It wasn’t long later that Azriel’s head started to feel… off. His usual stoic public demeanor became aloof, woozy.

Some of Keir’s brutes entered the bar, seating themselves beside Azriel. He bristled, knowing that this would end in a fight. Azriel threw back the rest of his ale and braced himself for the inevitable brawl to come.

His siphons sputtered as his head spun. Gods, what was in this drink? The males only smirked as they watched Azriel’s pathetic attempt to summon his power.

“Ahhh looks like the Illyrian bastard can’t handle his alcohol.” One of Keir’s darkbringers sneered.

Az tried to brush it off, pushing himself up to leave. He had no interest in a messy drunken brawl.

“Bet he didn’t even taste the faebane in this ale.”

Red flags immediately went off in Azriel’s head. Fuck, he had been so bothered by the day that he didn’t even consider his drink.

The bartender’s voice boomed “Did you tamper with my ale!?”

Azriel was too bleary to register the sounds around him. And then a darkbringer brought his fist to Azriel’s face.

Azriel threw a fist back desperately trying to take on the brutes surrounding him but in his intoxicated state and his missing powers, he was out numbered.

As Azriel became bloodied, the other Illyrian male in the bar stepped in, his siphons flaring. “Where is your honor?” his deep voice inquired.

The largest darkbringer sneered “Honor? An Illyrian dares speak of honor?” before throwing a punch at the male. The Illyrian caught the punch and twisted his arm and managed to take down multiple darkbringers as Azriel fought for some semblance of composure.

It seemed that Azriel and the Illyrian stranger would win before several more darkbringers entered the bar. Az and the Illyrian fought hard but when a knife met the strangers heart, Azriel knew the male’s Illyrian healing powers wouldn’t be enough.

The bartender quickly tossed a tonic to Azriel to counteract the poison and it took affect nearly instantly as Azriel’s powers began to come back. The darkbringers saw the siphons flare and knew they stood no chance. A few fled but Azriel managed to take down several on their way out.

Azriel fell to his knees beside the stranger who had helped him but it was too late. The male’s final breaths were approaching.

“Why? Why did you help?” Azriel asked.

The male only murmured something about the Valkyries in the rite and the Shadowsinger that helped give voice to the voiceless.

Azriel had never been taken by surprise in such a manner by another Illyrian. “You mean Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie?”

The male attempted to nod in recognition as Azriel’s attempts of stopping the male’s bleeding were failing.

“Find…. My wife.” The male stuttered. “Behind wards, in the Night and Day borderlands”

Azriel was caught off guard. An Illyrian living outside of the war camps was unheard of.

“Your wife, is she Illyrian?”

The male sputtered a “yes” before his body gave out.

Azriel couldn’t help the tear that slipped free as the male’s heart gave way, his soul returning home to the Mother.

The male had no reason to defend Azriel and yet… he gave his life in his aid.

He would find the male’s wife. It was the least he could do.

The bartender approached with bandages he’d found but Azriel signaled that it was too late.

The bartender shook his head in mourning. “He was a good male. Simply passing through for supplies, bluebell seeds for his wife, and lollis for his daughters. Came through here once every so often.”

The pang that ran through Azriel’s gut had nothing to do with the lingering poison in his system and everything to do with the fact that the male who gave his life had a family. One that he loved dearly.

“Lying there's a man who was bound for Hewn City, flying alone fetching seeds and supplies

Leaving behind his home in a canyon, wife and two children with tears in their eyes”

———————————

Azriel ignored the lingering effect of poison that the tonic hadn’t fully remedied and trudged out into the night. He would find this female and her children and pay his debt to the male who lay dead in the Hewn City.

He trudged through the night and into the early morning searching the borderlands of Day and Night for the male’s family.

As he fought through the tiredness, the hangover, the aftermath of the poison, he didn’t even notice the sounds of Illyrian wings. He fought through his daze against the rogue band of twelve but fell captive.

One of the most powerful Illyrians in history, felled twice in twenty-four hours. And now, he’d die not only with his debt unpaid, but the Illyrian who had saved him in the Hewn City died for nothing. He refused to beg or plead, not to the Illyrians. He fought as they administered faebane, taking away his powers once again.

So much for calling out to Rhys through the mental bond.

The males forced him along for some time, arms and wings bound with a sack over his head. This was humiliating in every way possible.

As the morning sun rose fully the males pushed Azriel to his knees, ripping the sack off his head.

Azriel couldn’t believe it when he opened his eyes to find an Illyrian female standing before him outside of the cabin, with her own set of Illyrian siphons.

“You’re not Balthazar…” she spoke softly yet with an air of confidence and concern. “Who are you?”

Two little girls stepped out from behind her. “Mama? Where is papa?”

Azriel choked up as he took in the enigma of a female before him, whispering, “I’ve… been looking for you”

To Azriel’s shock the band of Illyrian males only gave the female a respectful nod and took to the skies.

“Where’s Bal?” She asked, her lip quivering as if she already knew.

Azriel looked at the little girls clinging to their mother and could only manage a shake of his head.

The mother sent the girls inside, keeping a brave face and letting them know she had to speak to the male, to Azriel.

As soon as the door closed to the house, she fell to her knees with a guttural cry for her love that was lost.

Azriel gave her time before he told her the story of the male he owed a debt to, the family he would care for in gratitude for the life that was sacrificed for his own. The woman was broken. She was in pain and Azriel’s heart couldn’t take it. He embraced the female as she cried into his shoulder, comforting her for as long as she needed it.

“I'm in debt to a man who was bound for Hewn City flying alone fetching seeds and supplies

Leaving behind his home in a canyon, wife and two children with tears in their eyes.”

When she finally settled and looked into Azriel’s eyes, he knew he couldn’t tell her. Not yet.

Not that fate arranged this star-crossed meeting.

For now, he would pay his debt.

And someday, he could tell her what happened when he saw her step out of the cabin today.

About the moment that his soul found its match.

————————————————

A/N I’m a sucker for cowboy ballads and when I heard this song, I knew I needed to write a fic based on it.

Tags

ACOTAR General: @lilah-asteria @thecollegecowgirl @mochibabycakes @nickishadow139

Requested tags based on excerpt I posted a couple of weeks ago: @acourtofbatboydreams @nocasdatsgay

Special apology tag to @st4r-girl-official

[candyskiez]

Fuck it. I've been sitting on this one for a while.

Lemme talk about Luz as a trans allegory. Is this the only way to interpret her character? Fuck no! Is it one of my favorite ways to interpret her? Fuck yes! Strap in, I am very normal about her story.

Luz's story literally begins with being sent to a camp to make her more "Normal." It is later revealed that one of the people sent to that camp is nonbinary. And they say that the camp was like a prison. Sound familiar?

It's also very noteworthy that throughout the story, it seems like Luz has to choose between being herself and her family. Either have your mom or be happy. Either find yourself or be with someone you love but who you feel like you can't let know you, because you feel like you're too weird for them to handle. It's also very interesting how she interprets Camila's actions, and also completely understandable considering everything. She interprets it as she just became Too Much. Her issues are too much, she's too much effort, she's a burden to her, and she can't justify it anymore. There's something Wrong with her. And she's desperate to make it up to her. She feels like she can only show Camilia a part of herself, because maybe that other part of her isn't what she's supposed to be. Maybe she's just a mess. Maybe she's a horrible daughter. She's weighing her down. (Once again, sound familiar?)

Camilia in grom fright walking in through a door makes me really think of being Outed. Being caught in the act, being realized as Other and just the whole "have you been LYING to me?!" Which. I'm sure many trans people relate to. Hiding this part of yourself from someone you love because you're scared that it's too late to tell them. If they find out, will they take it personally? Will they be angry? Will they need to know every little detail before they're satisfied? Luz doesn't know how Camilia will react after she sent her to that camp, because that felt so out of character for her mom to do and now she's left reeling. She got Too Much for even her mom to deal with. Now she feels like she needs to hide this part of her even more. Her texts to Camilia are also very notable. It just...it sounds so much like sounding scared to come out. Wanting, so bad, for her to know who she really is. She's just...scared. And she isn't ready.

Also the fact that everyone, at every turn, is constantly telling Luz she'll never be a witch. She wasn't born with a bile sack. She wasn't born one. She wasn't born here. She can't be a witch. Humans can't do magic. Humans aren't built like that. She wasn't born a witch. And her dejection in covention is just...

Is she really a witch if she wasn't born one? If she has to make herself one?

And Eda says, what makes a real witch? Someone who conforms and acts exactly like a witch "should?" Thats bullshit, then they'd be miserable. Do whatever , be your own witch. Do you see what I'm getting at.

Also the fact Luz is constantly made to choose between worlds. Human realm and demon realm. Everyone telling her where she's allowed to be. What she's allowed to be. You can't have both. You can't be both. You do not get both. Luz calling herself a bad boy. Luz being referred to as a girl as well. Her being both. Her being told she cannot be both. Do you get what I'm saying. Do you hear me.

And just. God. Thanks to them. None of her old clothing that was so much like her. Covering up her body so much. No more non conforming, none. She has the dysphoria stereotype fit, bit for bit. She's hiding her own body. Trying to look normal. Depressed and she hates herself because she thinks she ruined everything by chasing that happiness.

And what saves her is Camilia telling her, I never EVER meant to make you feel like this. My biggest mistake is not supporting you when you needed it. My biggest mistake is letting other people push you around. I was terrified that they would hurt you for being different, so I tried to make you hide it. I should've stood with you and fought the people who I thought would hurt you. You needed me. And I wasnt there. But I'm here now. Please, don't hate yourself. Please don't think this is your fault. You're beautiful. And just. God! God! Her not using any gendered terms , no my daughter, no mija, NONE. Just. This beautiful, good witch. The thing she always wanted to be allowed to be. Do you see me. Do you see what I'm saying.

And her palismen is a shape shifter. Who can be ALL. Who can be BOTH AND MORE. Luz choosing every track in hexside, having every animal as a palismen, being called a girl and a boy, she is BOTH and ALL and NEITHER and MORE. And it's fucking beautiful.

And onto my favorite part of the allegory. Titan Luz.

Luz is killed by the extremist who thinks anything different is bad and corrupt and evil. She's brought back by an elder who openly says he's the best of both things. Who's lived through years of hatred. And he tells her she has the right to fight back against her oppressor. So get out there and LIVE.

And she transforms. She gets a new body. A new body that's the combination of everything shed ever been. It has calls to her family, Kings fur and Eda's eyes and Camilias hair and Hunters teleporting. But it's so LUZ. It has the light symbol it has her hat and the azura outfit and she looks like HERSELF. She comes back from the brink with a body all her own. That she made for herself. That she CHOSE for herself. She chooses herself and she becomes the best of both things: human and creature of the isles. She's both. She's all. Shes neither. She's something different entirely. She's Luz.

And her speech to Belos. She declares herself as belonging to both realms, as being BOTH. She isn't going to give up one thing for the other. She can have whatever the fuck she wants. She's Luz motherfucking Noceda, she's all of the above, and you can't do anything about it. She's a human, she's a witch, she's a titan, she was born in a world that made her miserable so she found one that didn't and worked on the relationships that weren't working out for her until they worked. She's still weird and different and she doesn't fit into any of your boxes and she's the happiest she's ever been up to this point in the series. She has a body all of her own making. And she's overjoyed. THIS is who she is. She's so comfortable in her own skin in the epilogue it makes me emotional. God. Luz. I love her.

Is some of this reaching? Probably, yes. But I love hitting my favorites with the trans stick, so! I do not care. Love ya Luz, you're the protagonist we did NOT deserve.

[mordredisacoolname]

Could you do FEAR STREET characters reacting to male! Reader being a badass in front of others but soft and shy with them?

Love Your contento btw <3

Hey, sorry it took so long, I'm very busy but I try to dedicate as much time as I can to writing, hope you like it

FEAR STREET HEADCANONS - BEING BADASS WITH OTHERS BUT SOFT WITH THEM

MALE READER

Characters: Kate, Simon, Ziggy, Cindy, Nick

Sorry I ran out of inspiration for tommy and alice

CW: maybe some curse words here and there

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

Kate

-what made her interested in you in the first place was your strong personality

-she loves how you always stand up for yourself and others and never let anyone walk over you

-you became friends with simon, and sometimes hang out with the rest of the group

-you became close with Deena, which was hard to do

-kate decided to find out why does her friends like you so much

-she invited you to babysit with her, which was odd, but you didn't complain

-she saw how sweet you were with the kids

-it surprised her, given how you act in public

-she decided she likes that part if you too

-when you started dating everyone saw you as a power couple

-never daring to mess with you

-when the two of you hang out alone you were always gentle with her

-wraping your hand around her when cuddling

-playing with her hand

-always complimenting her

-she liked that she was the only one who gets to see this part of you

Simon

-you were the new worker at the pharmacy

-at first he thought you were scary, having resting bitch face

-never tolerating any bullshit from costumers

-of someone made a scene you stayed unphased, answering passive aggressively so said costumers would know how you feel but won't get you fired

-her was attracted to this, to you

-one of the many shifts you worked together were obnoxiously slow

-so he decided to chat you up

-finally

-two his surprise you had a great humor, and laughed at all of his jokes

-you were soft spoken with him

-next shift you even complimented him

-you started hanging out outside of work, and one day you just kissed

-you were high, but after you sobered up you told him you still wanted to explore things with him

-you stroked his hair, or gave him a gentle kiss, and he was surprised every single time

-he felt proud, that you felt comfortable enough with him to be yourself

Ziggy

-you became best friends the second you both stepped in the camp

-she Sunnyvales were mocking you

-you opened you mouth and so many insults flew out of it

-even Ziggy was flabbergasted

-she instantly took liking to you

-the same day she approached you and asked you if you want to help her with a prank

-of course you said yes

-you were inseparable

-doing everything together

-even sheila was scared to touch you when you were together

-you were both comfortable with each other, but it took you both a little time to complete open up

-ziggy thought that if she'll show her softness you would laugh at her

-but what she didn't expect was you making soft gestures at her first

-you sat in her cabin on the floor, backs leaning on the bed

-she was still eating the pastry you stall from the kitchen, and her hair stuck to her mouth

-so you gently wiped it away and tucked it behind her ear

-she looked at you shocked, but than smiled and continued eating

-later that night you somehow ended up laying on the floor, opposite to each other

-there was a comfortable silence

-ziggy sat up, scooching closer to you

-you made eye contact for a minute

-and than she kissed you

-its was quick, and Ziggy had a questioning waiting look on her face, waiting to see how you react

-you also sat up, touching your palm to her cheek and kissing her

-you decided to keep it casual on the outside

-no body had to know what you do behind closed doors

-of course Cindy picked up the moment you stepped out of the cabin

-oh how much more trouble will be coming to the camp

Cindy

-the first time she noticed you was at breakfast

-the Sunnyvale leaders were announcing something and you boo'd them

-they insulted you, but you didn't stay silent

-you made a snarky comment

-making shadyside laugh

-not just then, but every time you had a comeback

-you didn't let yourself get bullied

-you were strong and witty

-so Cindy had a hate love opinion on you

-she admired how you were never scared

-but also thought you were reckless

-you didn't talk much, but one night you had to do chores together

-she barley spoke to you

-when a younger shadysider came in to ask something

-you were so gentle with them

-you asked them what's wrong and reassured them that's ok

-after helping them you went back to work

-after that Cindy decided she misjudged you

-when made effort to talk to you more, and even defended you sometimes

-one night someone insulted her, and you defended her, making the person look stupid and just plain mean

-she later came to your cabin, thanking you

-you offered her to come in and hang out for a bit

-despite what she thought she actually really enjoyed your time together

-you started hanging out a lot, and after two weeks you decided you were tired of waiting and just confessed to her

-she was silent, and you were afraid you overstepped

-before you had the chance to apologize she leaned forward and kissed you

-a sweet and soft kiss

-she encouraged you to be more "soft" on the outside

-but she secretly enjoys every comeback of yours

-she's proud of you for standing up for yourself and your people

-she would never admit it but it turned her on

Nick

-you were in trouble again

-arguing with his younger brother

-so he tried handling it

-"I don't need your help thank you very much"

-after he came to tell you to behave, or you'll be thrown out

-you just blankly stared at him and walked away, leaving him confused

-he thought you were emotionless

-but than he saw you playing water war with the younger kids, laughing about "losing"

-after a particularly messy dinner, caused by Sunnyvales they forced you to clean it all up by yourself

-so he came to help you

-he were an asshole sure, but he was fair

-you silently cleaned the floor

-"thanks" you said

-not ashamed to accept help this time

-"why do you always get in trouble with my brother, you know if something happens they'll believe him"

-"I can't let you win, you already think we're weak losers, I gotta stand up for myself"

-the next few days you had brief interactions

- acknowledging each other and saying hi

-while you were playing a game, Sunnyvales vs shadysiders, you caught him hiding

-"c'mon sunny boy let's get you to jail"

-he stood up from his hiding place

-you stared at each other, not moving

-you though he's going to attempt to escape but instead he just kissed you hard

-you leaned into the kiss, who slowly turned slow and soft

-he pulled away "you know, I don't think they'll notice us missing for a bit" he smiled at you

-you ended up spending the whole night together

-trying to explain in the morning that you're both just that good at hiding

-you both knew that wasn't true

-you spend almost all the time together

-hiding from others

-snicking glances and touches

-at day you pretended to hate each other, lightly insulting each other

-but at night, when you were all alone, you say together quietly talking

-you were the first person nick could open up to, and he was yours

-you became each other's comfort

-he decided he can never lose you, and he'll do anything to keep you with him

[melis-writes]

Blood Money (Tony Montana x Reader Multichapter, 18+ Smut) Chapter 3 – An Eye For An Eye.

Chapter 2 / Read on AO3 / Chapter Masterlist.

18+, explicit smut read.

“Your new boyfriend is in Miami." / “I’m here for Tony Montana.”

Tony's fiery gaze burned into the back of your mind but your name etched on his heart from the very moment he knew who you were. Keeping you on his mind like prayer, Tony wastes no time in attempting to squeeze himself out of every interrogation at the Cuban migrant camp he and Manny are detained in. Like a power move claiming he knows you, Tony's beckoning you to meet him once more in your hometown with bold claims striking the attention of your father–one of the most notorious, wealthy businessmen of Miami–with one claim being that of love.

[WARNINGS]: None!

[AUTHOR'S NOTE]: Oh my goodness, a LONG time coming and the chapter update is finally here at last!! 😭💀 I'm thrilled to update this fic again and share it with the Tony girlies! Battling writer's block and life getting super busy was a chore but I. AM. BACK and writing! And yet I must break everyone's heart again by saying this update of Blood Money officially marks my temporary hiatus of Al fics outside of The Godfather universe. 💔 I will now solely be working on my Godfather fanfics until I'm finished so I have ample time and opportunity to write more consistently and update fics even more often than I ever have. I'm definitely not abandoning this fic and I will finish it someday soon! For now, let's dive back into Tony and Celeste's story!! 🥺🤞🏻

With a taste for success and dollar bills, Tony Montana’s drug empire grew in vast wealth, power and influence by your side as the kingpin’s lover. From sharing an intimate history in Cuba, you and Manny Ribera were the only ones to believe and support Tony from rags to riches. Embroiled in the same lifestyle and sharing enemies, you and Tony come to build your empire and world together with the threat of it collapsing from the inside. As partnership turns to betrayal and thrill to danger, you find yourself in-between ultimatums and sacrifices for the man you love.

'I'm always in the right, man. Always am.' The shit-eating grin over Tony's face spreads equal amounts of tension and frustration throughout the interrogation room; keeping the officers on edge for word back from your family knowing Tony could potentially be a protected individual under the Navarro family while thinking at the very same time that Tony could be bullshitting everyone just to waste their time.

Tony sits all too comfortably in front of the officers with his arms crossed, all the more amused watching them huff quietly to themselves and glower back at Tony every few minutes.

"So--" Tony attempts to start a lively conversation on his behalf.

"You shut the fuck up, Montana," the first cop points his finger at Tony. "Don't say a fuckin' word."

"We're not playing with you," the second cop scowls. 

"Alright, man. Alright," Tony shrugs his shoulders loosely, "sheesh. I keep quiet when people talk on the phone, like Mama taught me, okay?"

Letting out another shaky sigh of irritation, the officers exchange a glance amongst one another, knowing well enough that if they've bothered the Navarro family for no good reason, it'll result in a guaranteed suspension without pay and likely following up with getting fired. 

Then again, there's always the possibility that it could be Tony finding himself in hot water with the Navarros due to his cockiness and stupidity, and if that means having Tony out of the refugee camp and no longer able to be a nuisance, then it'll be both a best case scenario and a relief for the officers involved. Still, it's all too much to consider at once.

"Tell the supervisor," the first cop mumbles, "he needs to know what's going on."

"Will do," the other sighs, taking a seat back at his desk to grab out his notepad.

Ignoring Tony outright, the first cop moves his stool over to the telephone by the desk and sits next to it before beginning to dial the Navarro family reception line.

'By heart?' Tony's eyes flicker with interest, noticing how the officer has your family's number memorized by heart—rendering him surprised and amused at the same time. 

'So they know her,' Tony thinks to himself. 'She not a nobody. She a somebody. I got her name on the line for me. Just for me.' 

This means more to Tony than you can already know, even if all you'll ever do is show up to spit on his face and blame him for wasting your time. The satisfaction alone is everything for him.

Both officers continue to ignore Tony and avoid making any sort of eye contact with him; murmuring ushered words to one another and pressing through more numbers on the telephone as it rings.

Only mere moments after does Tony notice how tense the officer on the telephone gets by the way his muscles jerk up in response to the telephone being answered by a monotone-voiced, middle-aged man speaking out.

"Navarro residence."

The very individual answering the phone would be your father's advisor and right-hand man, Gabriel.

"Cuban Detention Center, Officer Frank speaking," the cop says politely, clearing his throat. "May we please speak to Mr. Navarro?"

There's a short pause on the other end of the line. "Do you have a request or appointment booked in advance?"

"No," Officer Frank answers quietly. "Um, ahem—this is in relation to immigration and detention. There's a gentleman here claiming he was requested by name from a potential--" Frank scowls over at Tony. "Sponsor." 

Gabriel's tone of voice grows considerably agitated. "I trust you have a good reason for wishing to bother Mr. Navarro. You will not hear it from me."

"Greatly appreciated," Officer Frank awkwardly replies as Gabriel begins to transfer the call to your father's personal telephone.

Fully aware of the telephone conversation ongoing with Gabriel, your father—Darren Navarro--is two stories up in his penthouse—still in his Versace morning robe, smoking a Cuban cigar.

His first words to Officer Frank once the line transfer is, "You better have a good reason for reaching my personal number, Frank."

"Oh yes sir, o-of course," Frank stammers. "I apologize, sir. I didn't mean to interrupt your day, but this is urgent."

"So you say so," your father is unmoved by the sudden sense of urgency. "I suppose it is coming from the immigration and refugee department. I've sponsored nobody, so what is all of this?"

Officer Frank's skin drains of color as he nervously exchanges a glance with his colleague, glumly shaking his head. "Um, sir, there was a mention of your daughter's name by a Cuban migrant."

Your father raises a brow, leaning back on his velvet chaise. Your last trip to Cuba and mentions of "Tony Montana" and "Manny Ribera" easily come to Darren's mind. 

"Interesting," Darren muses. "And what is this individual's name?"

"Tony Montana," Tony speaks up loud and clear, grinning. "And with my best friend, Manny Ribera."

"Shut the fuck up!" The second cop hisses, almost jumping out from behind his desk to hit Tony.

Darren's all very well aware Tony is in the same room and must know who he is by now, having heard everything. 

"Uh huh," your father chuckles. "I see."

"Sorry, sir. I'm so sorry," Frank scoffs, swallowing hard.

"Stop your whining," Darren rolls his eyes. "I heard the man loud and clear. This is no request for me but for my daughter then."

"The migrant claims to know Celeste Navarro personally, sir." Frank clears his throat.

"Yes, he does. That much is true," your father nods.

"May we speak to Celeste, sir?"

"No need," Darren brushes off the request, glancing towards his bedroom door. "Celeste will soon be on her way to greet both gentlemen personally.

"This man--" Frank begins, but is abruptly cut off and corrected by your father.

"Men," your father clarifies, refusing to exclude Manny. "There are two of them after all, so Celeste will see both. She knows both of them, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good," Darren blows out the smoke from his cigar around him, resting his cigar between his fingers as he admires the afternoon light glistening over his gold rings and jewelry. "Treat these men well. I'm aware of the reputation your detention center has and its demands. 'Gentle' is not in your vocabulary so be respectful. These are friends of the Navarro family and I expect them to be treated as such."

"Yes, sir..." Mortified, the officers stare in shock at a smirking Tony before your father hangs up on them.

~

Giving a drawn-out sigh, you roll your eyes in annoyance at the back cover of the gossip magazine you’ve been reading; already questioning why you bother with the tabloids just to entertain you.

Flipping back to the front cover of a bikini model on Miami beach, you rest your chin over your fist, wearing a flowing, pastel pink satin nightgown—laying on your stomach and dangling your feet, attempting to beat boredom.

Frank Sinatra’s “All By Myself” plays softly on your white and gold decorated record player, a compliment to the similar colors lavishly decorated over your bedroom.

Practically the size of a house’s first floor, your bedroom itself spans 1,500 square feet and is fit for a princess, covered in various shades of pink with a glimmering diamond chandelier above you.

The very king-size bed you lounge upon is adorned with a bubble-gum pink cashmere and quilt duvet and six silk encased pillows, a polar bear throw in the center of your bedroom upon the marble floors striking attention to the wall fixtures and architecture of the bedroom taking inspiration from the Palace of Versailles.

You furrow your brows in annoyance at the magazine in your hands, only to have your thought suddenly interrupted by the sound of your father knocking on your door.

You peek up in interest, brushing a curtain of your hair back. “Come in.”

“Hi, darling,” your father enters your room with a warm smile—holding a glass of iced rum in one hand and concealing something in his fist with the other. “Didn’t think I’d be giving you good news so quick, eh?”

Chuckling, your father opens his fist and lightly tosses your car keys over to you.

Reaching your arm out, you snatch the car keys mid-air—staring at your father in confusion. “Huh? What do you mean?”

“Your new boyfriend is in Miami,” your father says with a laugh. “Immigration services at the Cuban refugee camp called me just earlier.”

“Huh,” you blink, rubbing your temple as your memory recollects, hitting you all at once.

“I never say goodbye either. I say you’re gonna remember these faces—my face.”

‘Tony Montana.’ Your face flushes red as you clear your throat, glancing up at your father. “They called you?”

“Mhmm,” your father nods, taking a small sip from his drink. “Quick to it, I’ll give them that. I don’t think that Tony of yours has been there for very long from the sounds of it. They wanted to reach you, actually.”

“Makes sense of course,” you slide aside your magazine, sitting up in bed. “Great…”

“What do you think?” Your father raises a brow.

“I’m not thinking of anything,” you give your head a shake.

“No? You sure you don’t owe this Tony and his friend a favor or two?”

“I don’t owe anyone anything,” you roll your eyes out of frustration. “But for Tony,” you clutch your car keys, “if he wants to see me, I’ll go see him. I’ll see him, but I don’t know what I can do for him.”

“Is this really someone worth wriggling out of months worth of paperwork and getting into the front of the line? ‘Cause I’ll let you decide that,” your father shrugs. 

Getting off of your bed, you eye your purse from across the bedroom. “I think I’ve already made my decision.”

“I’m sure you made the right one,” your father turns back on his heel.

“Is Tony waiting for me right now?” You head over to your walk-in closet.

“He is,” your father confirms, placing his hand over your doorknob to close the door behind him. “And I think you’re the only person he wants to see right now.”

~

‘Tony Montana…’ You let out a soft sigh, leaning your head back against your car’s headrest. ‘Again and so soon.’ With great effort, you push aside the fluttering feeling in your heart every time Tony’s name and face cross your mind; clearing your throat and putting your Armani sunglasses on.

Starting up your Mercedes-Benz 380SL Convertible and pulling out of your estate’s parking lot carefully, you focus on nothing but getting directly to immigration services—able to collect your thoughts.

Letting the warm summer breeze flow through your hair as you step on the gas, determined to know just why Tony’s got your name mixed up with the law.

You may not have taken the rugged, cocky stranger very seriously back in Cuba but you’d be lying to yourself right now if you said you weren’t a little intimidated by Tony’s timing.

‘Didn’t think my name would cross your lips so soon either… Full of surprises.’ 

Tony knows he can sit and wait in the interrogation room for an eternity to come so as long as it’s promised you’ll show up—riding off on the idea of seeing you again like a lingering high.

Driving through the streets of Miami, you tap your French tip manicure against your steering wheel patiently through every red light.

Your eyes flicker over beach-bound tourists making their way over the crosswalks, noting the impatient drivers on the other side of the intersection honking at each other and tossing cigarettes out the window; the scent of body odor and beer not far from the beach itself.

Giving your head a shake, you scrunch your nose in disgust and drive off—not far from reaching the secluded immigration center from downtown.

You arrive a little over ten minutes later, driving into the clearance section with the rest of the other drivers waiting their turn to speak with an officer at the booth and be admitted. 

Resting your arm on the windowpane of your car, you peek your head out of the window just enough for your face to be seen, and just as you expected, you’re recognized by an officer at a booth opposite from you almost instantaneously. 

‘Uh huh.’ Noticing the officer blocking the path of the upcoming car who was next in line, you slowly drive up as he gestures for you to follow.

“How is that fucking fair?!” You hear a honk and shout of irritation from the other driver, simply ignoring him and continuing to cautiously drive up.

“Blow it out your ass, buddy,” the officer rolls his eyes.

Parking your car, you glance up at the officer who only gives you a brief nod and lets you through without a single word; just one of the many perks of being the daughter of one of Miami’s most notorious businessmen.

“Alright,” you mutter under your breath as you approach the guarded parking lot, seeing another officer heading directly your way. ‘Let’s see what this is really all about.’

Taking off your sunglasses, you make eye contact with the officer who furrows his brows at you in confusion; more than likely wondering how you got in so quickly and just who you are to be taking priority over anyone else.

“And who might you be?” The officer asks smugly.

“I think you know who I am,” you reply back coyly. “I’m here for Tony Montana.”

~

As smug and prideful as he can be, Tony slouches in his seat with his arms crossed and completely relaxed as if he’s the one arranging the interrogation rather than being interrogated. 

As apparent as the officers make it seem to Tony how thoroughly pissed, exhausted, and anxious they are dealing with him, Tony reflects it with his nonchalant attitude on purpose.

“You think you’re taking some sort of vacation, Montana?” Officer Frank scowls.

 “Sure, man,” Tony shrugs his shoulders loosely. “I think my vacation is on the way.”

Ignoring the immigration officer who escorts you inside the facility as some mock bodyguard, you make your way towards the entrance of the interrogation offices where the officer gestured you to, making note of the maximum-security gates and barbed wire high walls.

Giving a small huff of annoyance and adjusting your hair, you approach a narrow hallway inside the next building and set your sunglasses on your head.

“This way, please,” the officer guiding you murmurs and politely steps in front of you.

Unphased and hardly listening, you follow the officer until you both reach an interrogation door marked “11B”.

You maintain your distance from both the officer and the door as the officer leans over and quickly knocks on the door not to ask to come in but to signal his entrance.

A wide, playful grin spreads over Tony’s face as he turns his head back to face the door—absolutely thrilled to see it about to open in front of him.

Fear simmers back into the officers the moment they spot a feminine silhouette behind the tinted glass of the door, instantly remembering now more than ever that their jobs are on the line.

Pushing open the door, the officer guiding you inside steps in first and out of your way—clearing his throat to speak out, “Miss Celeste Navarro is here, sir.”

‘Celeste Navarro…’ Seeing you before him once more, Tony’s pupils widen as a strong surge of attraction hits him—coursing through his veins.

Tony’s muscles tighten and he feels the heat of arousal trickling inside of him as he locks eyes with you, stunned and utterly admiring every inch of your figure.

Attempting to look at you with more humility than defeat or nervousness, the officers are put off by your very presence and can say or do nothing as you cross your arms; expectant and domineering before everyone else.

You’re the only spot of color in the otherwise dull room filled with grey uniforms and sweaty men; dressed in an Armani, pastel pink, cropped tweed blazer, a matching mini skirt, a white chiffon Calvin Klein blouse with a bow at your collar and four-inch glossy nude pumps. 

“There she is, she’s the one,” Tony smirks at you—breaking the momentary silence in the room.

“Ahem,” Officer Frank clears his throat, beginning to sit upright in his seat. “You know this man, miss?”

“Do I?” You raise a brow, unamused. “It feels like I’ve known him my whole life.”

“Yes, baby,” Tony mutters to himself inaudibly. ‘Come to me. You’re here now.’

“Miss Navarro,” the other officer begins to speak up awkwardly, “apologies if this is an intrusive question however this man claims to know you and—”

”And she’s my fiancée, as I was telling you. Okay, man?” Tony interrupts, rolling his eyes. “Can I have some privacy with my fiancée, man?”

‘Fiancee? What the hell is he talking about?’ Struck into shock by Tony’s words, you hold your posture and expression, but you know where Tony’s coming from and just why he’s deciding to play this game with you now.

“Yes, so what?” You snap back, noticing the playful twinkle in Tony’s eyes. “It’s true, he is my fiancée.”

‘Tony… I hope you know what you’re doing. I swear… Now is not the time to put on a show.’ 

The officers stare at each other in utter discomfort, remaining silent. 

“But I don’t recall that being anyone’s business except mine,” you narrow your eyes at them, taking a step forward to Tony.

Tony takes your soft hand in his, caressing his thumb over the back of your hand softly. “See?”

“Well,” Officer Frank swallows hard, “if that’s the case—”

Your eyes snap open in shock as Tony leans up in his seat, suddenly cupping both of your cheeks and immediately pulling you into a crushing, deep kiss.

‘Oh!’ Your lips collide over his and your eyes flutter shut in response, feeling the warmth of his tongue teasing the tip of yours in loving passion without a care—ensnared in the moment of having you as his fiancée with no intentions of letting go. 

[iamfabiloz]

have a little idea of a drabble if that’s ok!

just. some squirreljessy fluff. maybe squirrelflight has had a fight with bramblestar, so jessy comforts her and then they decide to run away together?

this is such an old ask WAA when i was doing writing rqs in 2022 (i am no longer but) this one is for u anon *looks up at the sky* i started this almost 2 years ago and its not rlly done but I am all out of steam and am in no way a real writer so i just gave up this is what i got cw bad (i do not feel this vehemently abt anything here sorry i just got rlly into character LOL

“Run away with me, Squirrelflight.” 

Jessy’s meow was level, calm, as if the words she had just uttered were completely ordinary and not life-changing in the slightest.

Squirrelflight sputtered, choking on the mouse she had just settled down to eat. 

“W-what?” 

The deputy was now acutely aware of the deafening silence all around her, occasionally broken by the occasional squawk of a bird or creak of a branch. 

Unnerved, Squirrelflight suddenly wished for the comforting babble of her clanmates to fill the air, draining the tension from the too-quiet woods. But she knew none would come, the area they were in was a little more than a 10-minute walk from camp after all.

 It was just the two of them. 

The dark ginger molly suddenly shifted uncomfortably as the air seemed to get heavier, the little patch of forest they were in seemingly more enclosed and less spacious by the minute. It was as if the whole territory was as shocked by Jessy’s words as Squirrelflight was. 

The deputy’s partner had wheedled Squirrelflight for a moment alone all day, much to Bramblestar's chagrin. Squirrelflight’s former mate kept making up excuses for her to ignore Jessy’s request, sending Squirrelflight on errand after errand as if she were nothing but a misbehaving apprentice!

It made Squirrelflight’s claws itch and pelt prickle with frustration and she so longed to fire back at the brown tabby tom’s nonsensical demands, but she held her tongue, just this once. She wanted to meet with Jessy without being interrupted or hounded about undone checklists, thank you very much. 

So she trudged along the obstacle course Bramblestar had purposefully set for her, completing task after task (which included elder den management, tick-removal, border re-marking, herb stockpiling, and fresh-kill charting) until she was finally finished with a good enough portion to be excused for personal time. 

 Squirrelflight had quietly slipped away with a mouse in maw to meet her mate at their favorite spot in the territory: an old crooked oak tree with gnarled roots and a gaping hole beneath it big enough to house two full-grown cats. Squirrelflight had squeezed in, waiting for Jessy to meet her there. 

She momentarily relived the burst of affection she’d felt when she’d seen the brown she-cat pad closer to her location.

Whatever Squirrelflight has been expecting Jessy to say, it had certainly not been this. 

“You heard me.” The brown kittypet snapped, leaning in closer to meet Squirrelflight’s bewildered green gaze. 

“We can’t be happy here, love. Not with him around. Run away with me, Squirrelflight.” 

Squirrelflight gulped down the rest of her mouse, the prey dropping into her belly like a cold stone. 

“I- he… I know Bramblestar can be a bit… difficult.” 

“A bit is an understatement.” Jessy unsheathed her claws with a growl. 

“The guy’s a total asshole, Squirrelflight. We both know it.” 

Squirrelflight flattened her ears. 

Damn. She’s right. 

“I know, Jessy.” Squirrelflight sighed. “I know that better than any cat. But…” 

Jessy frowned. 

“But what? You’ve dealt with enough of his bullshit for a lifetime! I’ve only been here for a season and he’s already driving me crazy! I don’t know how you put up with it for so long.”

Jessy lashed her tail, her claws kneading at the ground impatiently. Squirrelflight placed her white paw on the she-cat’s shoulder, gazing at her with a silent plea. The molly’s amber gaze softened for a heartbeat, melting into the warm honeyed kindness that Squirrelflight had fallen for, before hardening back into the stern amber the deputy also admired. 

“Please try to understand, Jessy. I can’t just pick up and leave my clan out of the blue. I have responsibilities here.” 

An image of a lithe brown and white tabby flashed in Squirrelflight’s head, along with an elderly pale ginger molly and two younger toms. 

Leafpool, Sandstorm, Lionblaze, Jayfeather. 

Another vision crowded Squirrelflight’s mind, one of ThunderClan cats, big and small, hunting, patrolling, sharing tongues, and laughing as a group. 

My family and my clanmates are both so precious to me. Oh how could I be so cruel as to leave them? 

Squirrelflight closed her eyes, trying to choke back her rising distress at the thought of abandoning them all for her own desires. 

They need me. It would be selfish to just walk out when I’ve dedicated my whole life to them. 

“Are you thinking about your kin?” Jessy’s voice softened, her usual fire dimming. 

Squirrelflight nodded, blinking. “And my clanmates. Oh, Jessy, I can’t. I couldn’t. How could I leave them all?” 

Jessy looked away, her gaze darkening. 

“Squirrel…” Jesse’s maw slowly closed. 

Squirrelflight felt a rush of panic.

“It’s not that I don’t love you, it’s just-“

“Your duty. I know, I know.“ Jessy leaned over and brushed her muzzle against the deputy’s cheek.

“I just wish it could be easy.” 

 “I know Jessy, me too.” Squirrelflight sucked in a breath. “No matter what I think of Bramblestar, my clan always comes first.”

“But what about you?” Jessy burst out, bristling. 

“Why should you continue dealing with that whiny bastard just for the sake of another cat’s wellbeing? Gah- what about your own?” 

Jessy’s teeth grinded and she let out an irritated hiss. Squirrelflight was pressed against her side in an instant, curling her bushy tail over her companion’s back as an attempt to soothe her nerves. 

Jessy took a deep breath through her nose and let it out through her maw, the tension in her frame slowly softening. The brown molly sagged against the deputy’s side, her face pressing against Squirrelflight’s thick-furred shoulder. 

“Feel better?” Squirrelflight offered, giving one of Jessy’s ears a quick lick. 

“Mmrgh… no.” Jessy grunted, lifting her head, her expression twisting into a deep frown. 

“I love you so much, Squirrelflight. You know that right? So it’s absolutely infuriating to watch that rotten pile of manure treat you like a kitten who’s wet behind the ears and not the capable pillar of ThunderClan I know you are.” 

Squirrelflight felt a deep purr rumble in her chest, words unable to express how thankful she was for her companions' support. 

“Oh Jessy, I love you too. I’ll have to consider it for a bit though. I hope you understand.” 

“Of course.” Jessy meowed, padding forward to affectionately bump foreheads with her. 

“Hey, I know I said a lot of shit alright, but this is your decision. I won’t force you to do anything, and whatever you decide, I’ll be fine. Don’t pay any mind to my emotional blubbering, this is about you and what you're comfortable with. I can handle that fuzz-brained idiot myself, I was just concerned about how he affects you. I know it’s a huge thing to consider, with you having folks here and all and it’s reasonable to have doubts. Just know I’ll be with you through thick and thin, Squirrelflight.” 

Jessy pulled away, a twinkle in her amber eyes.

“No matter what.” 

“Thank you Jessy.” Squirrelflight grinned, suddenly feeling a rush of energy she hadn’t felt since she was a young cat. 

“Now… I think I’d like to have a little chat with Bramblestar. I didn’t appreciate how he made me his errand cat today.