#As well as in her long-fall boots! The braces really were just stuck on her legs in 1 weren't they :0 No wonder the Curiosity Core was rude

[sysig]

Anyway, back to testing (Patreon)

[jeskoholic]

A Little Piece of You Chapter 19: One-Eyed Owl

This is a chapter from an on-going series. If you missed out on the previous entries, you can check my masterlist.

Previous chapter: Black Swan

Word count: 5,453

Tags: Male OC X Mina, Nurse Room, College Sweethearts TW: Mentions of Blood

Enjoy

---

“Noona, I’m home. Are you here?” Yoon Jae-in’s voice announced, echoing across the seemingly empty apartment. He had just finished swapping his shoes for the indoor slip-ons, wrapping his hand further on the paper bag that he had with him. “There’s something that I’d like for you to see. Are you busy?”

Jae-in checked the small walk-in shelf of his noona’s shoe closet and found that her slip-ons were not present there. It was an immediate sign that she was not out for work and is lost somewhere in the apartment with him on that night. It was still early in the evening as well; a couple of minutes before seven PM was the perfect time for Jae-in to rush towards the local cake shop to get something for his beloved older sister.

Soon enough, soft and muffled food steps rustled over the carpeted floor followed by the figure of Bae Joohyun emerging from the bathroom. Unlike the usual presence of her being seen with all her breath-taking visuals to boot, Yoon Jae-in’s step sister wore a sleeveless green top and black shorts with her hair wrapped in plastic. She was also wearing a rejuvenating face mask over her beautiful visual, apparently attempting to keep it in place by walking in a rather awkward, back-inclined manner. The sight was hilarious for sure, but Jae-in always expected something to this degree anyway so it was pretty normal for him.

“This is such a wrong timing, Jae-in,” she said as she eyed her younger brother through the holes of the mask, speaking in an oddly muffled manner. In a matter hilarity, Jae-in found it strange how her neck was held so stiff as if she had a neck brace, all just to prevent her hair dressing and the mask from falling off. “I’m in the middle of my skincare as well as my hair spa. Can’t this wait a bit later?”

“I brought you a cake. I figured you needed a break of some form, so I got the sweet part of that break in this paper bag, noona.”

Just like that, Joohyun craned her neck and straightened up her body, apparently disregarding the attempt to hold her mask up high. Fortunately, it really did not fall off of any sorts and it stuck on her face.

“But it seems that you’re busy so I figured maybe—“

“I’m not busy,” she snapped. “Don’t you dare open that without me; this would not take that long to remove. Plus, I can do this later anyway. How come you didn’t mention getting some sweet stuff? I could have cooked dinner earlier so we can eat that sooner.”

Of course; she’s always like that. Noona does not always get these kinds of food because of her strict diet so I have to make every event special whenever we get these.

“Ah about that, don’t worry about it. I am actually in the mood to cook tonight and my school works have turned themselves down for the week, so my schedule is free. I’ll just make do of what we have at the fridge. You can relax your face for a bit, noona. I’ll take care of dinner for both of us.”

Even through the mask, Jae-in could clearly see Joohyun’s expression as her eyes widened in surprise.

“Oh wow, now that’s new! I certainly did not expect that from you. Well then, if you put it that way, it’s hard to decline. Go ahead and break a leg.”

“Of course noona, anything for my beautiful sister,” he said as he placed his bag over the couch. “I’ll make it light just so the cake won’t take too much space for you. I’ll consider how it would affect you, noona, especially with the cake here having to think about.”

Joohyun paused on the spot and gently tilted her head to the side.

“What is with you today, Yoon Jae-in? You seem to be in a really good mood. Did something amazing happen back at university, hmmm? I’m not complaining; it’s just… unusual. I like it though. Keep it up.”

“Ah, it’s really nothing noona. Maybe it’s just that I got all my dues done and also yeah, I’m in a good mood. So if I were you…”

Yoon Jae-in carefully walked towards the dining table, placed the bagful of cake over the surface and went behind his older sister. Gently, he softly ran his fingers over the wrap on his sister’s head before and moved to give a soft massage towards her neck and exposed shoulders. He gave a soft jolt towards her, startling Joohyun from where she stood before he poked the side of her waist.

“Yah…! I’m ticklish, stop it!”

“I’m just saying noona; relax for now because I got you covered. Don’t worry about me. Tonight, I’ll be serving you.”

“Aish, you stupid little bean; I love it when you’re being all thoughtful like this. You should go home every night on a good mood, but then again the sweets could get a dent on my waist here. Don’t burn the meat, okay?”

Joohyun, too, passed Jae-in as she finally headed back towards the bathroom once again. However, before she could make go past him completely, she made sure to poke Jae-in in the same manner that he did to her; a sharp-nailed index finger poking squarely on the side of his waist. That earned a good smile from Jae-in as he watched his step sister disappear towards the doors of their own bathroom.

Surely, his uplifted mood was caused by something that happened earlier that day. It was not even supposed to make sense on that regard and to the degree that he was actually experiencing, but he cannot control what he was supposed to feel. It was just that he was really, really happy. Having to cook for Irene was perhaps one of the good by-products of that uplifted mood.

BZZT

Right after Joohyun went back to the bathroom, Jae-in was about to head back towards his room to change clothes when he felt his phone vibrate on his pocket for the first time on that night. He hastily moved to fish it out, with his head hard-wired to check on it quickly only to disregard the moment that the notification was nothing of significant interest to him. That was already on the subconscious when he began to read the small bar right above the UI of his phone.

Instagram: Yoon Jae-in, your friend Ning Yizhuo posted for the first time after a while.

Ningning…?

I thought she’s inactive on these kinds of stuff. I recall her not being too fond of it.

I wonder what’s she’s up to as she barely has any social media presence of any kind.

Reflexively, he opened the application through the notification tab and sure enough Ningning’s first post after what he thought was months showed, glaring on his phone’s screen for him to see.

It was a simple post of Ningning’s selca with three different photos taken on what he assumed was her bedroom. She had different expressions throughout the three posts, but with each of the photos it caught the background of her bed and pillows; all quoted with the caption: ‘hello there, the angel from my nightmare’.

However, Jae-in’s eyes was quick to notice something that stood out on the all-peach mattress as well as the rest of the neatly arranged pillows. It was one glaring brown horse plushie that rested next to them, leaning on the bed’s headrest and showed itself on the camera ever so slightly. Clearly, even if it was so far he was sure to recognize the horse plushie that was there, for it was the very same horse plushie that he won and gave to Ningning when they went off to the arcade during Valentine’s Day.

“Wow, she actually kept that. That’s amazing,” he muttered to himself.

Yoon Jae-in then went on off to double tap the post, liking Ningning’s recent IG post before anyone else, and then left his phone at the dining table; intending to head back to his room and change his clothes for the night of cooking waiting for him.

---DAYS LATER---

As usual, I kept my normal pace consistent throughout that week to the point that it was almost close to the weekend again. I have no complaints whatsoever. This whole school-house routine with the occasional walk around courtesy of Shinwon and Dawn were starting to get really comfortable. The added factor that Joohyun-noona surprised me with a model kit for me to build, as a show of gratitude from all the small sweet treats and help I’ve been giving her for the past days, not only have I kept my attention glued onto heading home, I was actually looking forward to it. It was a very progressive hobby too; with how meticulous it looks, there’s no way that I’ll be able to do that in one month to say the least.

One Friday, I had to shelve that model since I had to work on a project due on the following week, paired with a classmate. I was heading off towards the large gymnasium/auditorium complex of NLIU to meet her and fetch a thumb drive from her as we agreed previously. Apparently, this classmate was a representative of the school’s basketball varsity team and surely this was the only reasonable time that we could meet each other without trouble on her schedule. Since the gymnasium was located up on the second floor of the building next to the library, I had to walk up a couple of stairs to go there. However, as I was nearing the peak of the flight, close towards the gate heading to the gym inside, my phone gave off another vibration because of an incoming notification.

1 New Message from: Kyungsoo

I immediately halted my pace at the moment that I reached the top, along with that was opening the rather unexpected chat from Doh Kyungsoo. However, I had a hint on what it was supposed to contain; it was pretty much the same chat that he’s been messaging me about for weeks now up until this point.

Kyungsoo: This might work out this time, Jae-in. We’re planning to head back to Skylight and get some drinks. I wonder if you want to go this time around. Hongseok’s taking care of everything again.

I knew it. Honestly, I still have no real intention to join them considering, well, I have a lot of stuff to do back home. However, despite me being silent on United Kwangya, Kyungsoo was the one who kept on messaging me for the invites; persistently asking if there was a possibility of me joining them regardless if I repeatedly decline or not. A part of me already wanted to go, this time for old time’s sake.

I’d lie if I’d say that I didn’t miss any of them one bit.

Kyungsoo: I don’t want you to say that I baited you in, but I’m sure you wanted to know. Soyeon’s actually joining us.

Oh…

Wow.

The timing is really strange.

If this particular hang out went on like how the rest of them have been doing it for the past weeks or so, I might have gone with them.

I don’t know… I’m sure that Soyeon showing up probably means that she’s ready to go back to the group as well, but a part of me was not yet ready to see her face to face. I think the same goes for her as well, especially knowing that I was the one who ‘broke-up’ with her, so to speak. Then again, this might be the chance for us to talk again and settle with being friends…

Still, the timing is so off. I really don’t feel like going now, knowing she’s there.

It’s not yet the time.

I’ll go ahead and see her soon, just not now. At this point if I would go, it would be just like forcing me to see her. I don’t want that to happen.

Jae-in: Sorry man, I got plans. Thank you for the invite, and I appreciate it as always.

Kyungsoo: No worries. Message me in case you change your mind.

Jae-in: I’ll do that in case there are changes. See you around man.

I knew that maybe Kyungsoo replied another message after what I had just sent him, but then I figured I already told him everything that I had to say so I just pocketed my phone again with no other thoughts ahead of me. With that, I beckoned myself inside the huge, high-ceilinged gymnasium of NLIU to meet this rather athletic group mate of mine, with the noise of the bouncing balls as well as the periodical shouts and grunts from the athletes greeting my eardrums as I moved to enter.

The NLIU Gymnasium was the large, dome-like establishment that stood a couple of metres away from the university library, with a spacious façade as soon as I exited the small entrance hallway. Bleachers lined its perimeter, surrounding the well-polished basketball court along with a curtained stage at the far left. The court seemed to be split in half at the moment, with two sport divisions practicing on each of the half-courts at the same time. To the right were the jersey-wearing young guys who were busy practising their dribbling techniques around various traffic cones. On my left were people dressed in minimal body gear as they practised fencing on wooden swords. The combination of the athletes as well as the noise coming from the common student standing by the gymnasium definitely made the environment lively.

I just don’t know how on earth I am supposed to find her in all of this. I can only see guys around here. Should I call her?

“Yoon Jae-in; I’m here,” I heard a voice call my name as if I just thought about that loud. I turned my head as I walked on the small pathway separating the main court line and the wall by a couple of metres, and immediately saw a short-haired girl dressed in matching red jerseys. She jogged towards me with a basketball on one hand and a thumb drive clearly on the other; her tied hair bounced carefully as she treaded the path heading to where I stopped and eventually stood upon.

“Hey, I’m sorry that I had to ask you to come here,” she breathed as soon as she was in front of me. Only now did I realize that she had a coach’s whistle draped around her neck and her forehead had beads of sweat. “I’m worried that I might not notice you. Good thing it was you whom I saw first as soon as I looked at the entrance by chance.”

“That’s fine. You seem to be really busy. Are you training with these guys?” I asked her as I took the drive from her.

“Ah, no; actually I’m the one training them. I’m actually in charge of training new varsity members so I really can’t just get out for a bit.”

“You train them? Wow, that’s amazing. I better get going then.”

“No it’s fine… if you want; you can stay for a bit. Anyway, I already did the necessary components for the reports and I compiled them there. You’re way better on writing than me, so I think you could provide a better and more coherent output than I would.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s a pair’s work after all. I got this. Thank you for working hard, Ryujin. I think I need to go so that you can go back there and continue.”

“Alright; just message me if there’s anything else that you need.”

I nodded in response before watching the ever-so athletic Shin Ryujin jog her way back towards the dribbling guys, but not before dribbling the ball she held on her hand as well. I can’t help but be amused with how amazing she actually was despite being really timid on class. I never thought that she’d be the one teaching these younger dudes.

I immediately pocketed the drive as I walked, heading towards the same hallway I entered from to exit the gym for good. However, I was way too occupied on pocketing the drive that it fell out of my grasp and slid across the gym’s slippery and polished floor. Panicking, I rushed to fish it up, of which I eventually did, but as soon as I raised my head…

I saw a wooden pole hit the lower eyelid of my right eye, missing my main eye by mere millimetres before I stumbled, fell to the ground, and pain filled the right side of my face as everything went into a mess.

---

It was an instant that Yoon Jae-in was singly teleported out of the gymnasium, as he even could not recall what really happened after his eye got hit. There was a brunt force that pushed him back followed by a sensation that felt like a punch on the face. He held on his cheek for as long as he could remember with the eventual commotion that surrounded him. Whatever happened was sure to be of a huge impact to him, considering he felt almost four to five people that help him up and carefully assisted him to the university’s emergency clinic.

Now, as he sat down on a reclined chair, things only began to register to his mind as the school nurse carefully bandaged his right eye. Spots of his own blood were clearly seen botched on the white fabric of his shirt, all the way down towards his arm. The small makeshift room he was brought in was sight; it was more akin to a dentist’s room more than anything else.

“Mr Yoon Jae-in, are you feeling alright now?” the school nurse asked him, Nurse Joy, while she carefully applied a piece of cotton over his wound. “Please keep your eye closed. This might sting a bit, so please hold it in.”

“Was the hit bad, ma’am?” Jae-in nervously asked, quite nervous at his first time being inside the school clinic on a major accident. “I… sort of black out after I got hit but I don’t remember passing out… everything felt vague.”

“You got hit by a fencing stick, Jae-in. It was so close that it hit your eyelid instead, missing your eye by a close margin. The blood stains you’re seeing on your clothes as well as your hands are the result of a small tear; it did graze a bit off of your skin but it’s nothing to worry about. I’m trying to disinfect the wound now and I’ll apply a bandage later so that the bruise that formed under your eye won’t be too obvious.”

“W-would I still be able to see…?”

To his surprise, Nurse Joy chuckled.

“Of course, Jae-in; don’t worry about that. Like I said, the stick barely missed your eye and hit your upper cheek instead, but grazing a bit of your skin in the process. It’s fortunate that, despite the damage, it’s just a minor thing that would heal given time. Now, for the meantime…”

She picked up a small ice-pack from the table nearby, placed it on Jae-in’s cheek and moved his hand to press on it. There was an immediate cooling sensation that spread towards his impacted region.

“Please hold that for a while. I’ll be back in about five minutes, okay? I’ll just need to run a quick errand. Just continue to press it carefully on the bruise until I get back,” she said, removing her gloves and disposing it on the bin below.

Jae-in barely even have any time to nod when Nurse Joy exited through the door in front of him. Even with the split-second frame of the door being open, he could have sworn he saw a couple of people standing in front of the door. One of them had a huge chance to be the person who accidentally shanked him.

He bore no grudges against whoever they were, for that matter. It was just that he was there when the even unfolded on an unfortunately timed matter. Luckily, throughout that ruckus of a commotion, even with his mind temporarily in shambles after that incident, he managed to keep hold of the drive Ryujin gave him previously, and now it was settling comfortably on the deepest corner of his pants’ pockets.

The underlying concern now was how bad his face actually looked like. It was a powerful and painful impact, judging by the feedback he was receiving even with just moving the pack with the smallest distance. There were no mirrors whatsoever inside the clinic, at least from the room where he was staying at, that he can actually check how bad his face looks like. It does feel painful, but what concerns him the most was how his sister would react to that once she’d see it. The way she would react to it might even be worse than how Jae-in faced the incident himself. She might assume a lot of things, which primarily would include him getting into a fight. With how protective she is towards his younger brother, there’s a huge chance that she might get really mad seeing him with a bruise under his right eye before he could even explain what really happened.

Yoon Jae-in awkwardly sat there tapping the ice pack against his face gently, allowing some of the condensed ice to trail down his cheek while he waited for the return of Nurse Joy. It was almost around five minutes that passed, with him carefully pressing the pack against his face in constant progression when the clinic’s door finally opened up.

“Nurse Joy, I think there’s a—“

And then, the world seemingly turned itself over.

The voice was already familiar the first time he heard it enter the room. There’s no denying that the soft, almost elegant an innocent-like aura belonged to a person he met on a couple of interesting situations, and that day seemed to be the most interesting of them all.

Myoui Mina continued to enter the secluded clinic room in a slower manner the moment she recognized who was seated on the chair. Gone were the specs that Jae-in previously saw her wear, of which he can now see the pure and captivating beauty of her presence. She was dressed in a simple jacket-shirt-jeans combination, along with a small bag slung over her shoulder, but her pure aura lifted her outfit in a completely different level.

“M-Mina…? That’s you, right…?” Jae-in asked in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

“Yoon Jae-in… I-I’m… I came here to run an errand for Nurse Joy. I did not expect to see you here.”

Mina fully entered the room and moved to close the door, but not before carefully checking the outer premises first.

“What happened to you?” she asked wit concern, eyeing the bruise that formed in Jae-in’s face as well as the ice pack that he was pressing against it. “Did you get in a fight?”

“Oh this…? It’s just an accident at the gym. I got shanked by a wooden sword and it luckily missed my eye and hit my cheek instead.”

“Is that true? Oh no, that must be really painful… d-did you get that treated already…?”

“Y-yeah, N-nurse Joy actually…”

To his surprise, Mina actually placed her bag beside the open table and quickly rummaged through the shelves searching for something. Moments later, she withdrew her hands holding a new pair of disposable gloves.

“Are you allowed to do that…?”

“I… I can take a look at it if you like,” she said in that similar soft voice of hers. “I used to be a voluntary intern here so… so I know a bit in treating those kinds of things.”

“Really…? Well, sure thing… I mean, it’s better if you’re going to check it instead of just me alone.”

“I promise I won’t make it worse,” she assured as she rolled up her sleeves and wore both the gloves over her slender hands. She then took a step closer to where Jae-in was seated and reached for the ice pack. “Can I have that…?”

Nervously, he let Mina take the ice pack from him and sat still. Despite only having one eye to see, It was more than enough for him to appreciate the details of Mina’s face as she moved closer, carefully eyeing the bruise on Yoon Jae-in’s cheek. She then moved the pack out of the way in order for her to gently caress the impacted area with her gloved hand.

“I think you’ve been pressing too hard on it,” she remarked. “It might give your skin more trouble than it already has. Here, let me demonstrate how you should do it.”

Mina unexpectedly fished Jae-in’s free arm from below and placed on the ice pack before holding it herself, all while she took the nearby stool and eventually sat on it. Myoui Mina and Yoon Jae-in sat opposite each other, with the young woman pressing the ice carefully against his skin while she held on to his hand.

Perhaps it was the silence that could be blamed for the rather awkward and wordless moments that followed after that. Jae-in’s heartbeat, his cheeks, his ears, everything was flaring up with just the simple act of Mina helping him compress and treat the injury as it is. It was certainly quite an unexpected turn for her to be the one to show up there, let alone be the one helping him on his injury in probably the sweetest manner ever. Not to mention, Mina’s face was so close to his that he could easily make up the details better than when he first saw her back at the library nor the cafeteria.

The silence was deafening, with only the source of noise coming from the periodical hallway noises from the outside of the clinic itself. Mina did not even notice that her pressing became softer and softer as the minutes went by. She could only blame it all on Jae-in, for as soon as their eyes met in that quiet room, she suddenly felt conscious of what she looked like. There was no real bit of thought she involved on that instance; just seeing Jae-in there made her concerned all of a sudden. Now, their face was so close that even she was starting to feel how awkward it was…

What is happening?

I don’t even know if my face is wet with water droplets or because of sweat.

“Am I interrupting something?” the voice of Nurse Joy said from the door. Apparently neither Jae-in nor Mina noticed that it even opened in the first place. That alone brought them back at the clinic after their minds mutually flew for a couple of minutes, maybe there was a little startle in there as well.

“N-nurse Joy… s-sorry,” Mina scrambled to get herself back on her feet, ultimately leaving Jae-in to hold on the cold press against his face. “I thought you were here and… it just so happened that I knew him to so I just—“

“It is fine, Mina-chan; there’s nothing to worry about. I just did not expect to see you here. You’ve never volunteered for an entire semester now, but it’s nice to see you take care of people again… interesting even, that you actually knew each other too…” she said with a teasing smile.

“I… I just happened to know him t-too…”

“In that case, do you mind if I leave him on your care then? I went back here in a rush because I’m dealing with another emergency case. Is that okay with you?”

“Y-yes… I’ll t-take care of him… I’ll manage…”

“Thank you so much, Mina! On that note, I’ll leave you two be. Just inform me if he’s going off so that I can make an incident report as well as an excuse slip. I’ll just be out so just approach me when you two are… done, you know?”

Mina deliberately ignored the odd tone and bowed in courtesy before Nurse Joy finally left the door, effectively having both herself and Yoon Jae-in in the company of each other again like before. The young man still had the cold press on his face, blushing for things he didn’t even know the reason for as he sat there with Mina. The entire atmosphere was starting to be awkwardly different and the only way he could think about was to bring the conversation down to the ground to lay out the comfort again.

“It’s crazy how we seem to meet on unfortunate circumstances,” Jae-in teased as soon as Mina moved to wipe the accumulated water from his face. “Last time that I saw you, I thought I would be standing still for lunch. Before that, I bumped into all your books.”

“Ah, I thought I was the only one who noticed. It’s interesting how I bump into you a lot these days as well. Also, I think the small graze on your eyelid is doing well now; it’s stopped from bleeding but it still has a bit of a swell. T-the problem is just the bruise on your eye. We’ve done enough compressing that it would be good for the meantime, but if you go out walking like that it would look as if you just got into a fight,” Mina said, examining the soft bruise of Jae-in on his face, unintentionally bringing her face closer to his once more. “But I think I have a solution for that.”

She immediately withdrew and went back towards the same shelve that she fished the gloves from, and then she emerged later holding a pack of what looked like medical eye-patches. Mina quickly fished a piece and stretched it out before proceeding to the waiting figure of Yoon Jae-in. He knew what was about to come but he was busy being frozen on the spot, still processing what was really going on with everything around him.

“Wear this for now. It might not conceal everything but at least you’ll not walk around looking like someone just punched you,” she began, and then carefully wrapped the strap around Jae-in’s head and eventually settling the patch on his bad eye. “You just need to routinely take care of that so that it would heal the quickest time.”

“T-thank you, Mina… this would be a huge help for me…” he replied.

However, the moment that Jae-in opened his eyes, Mina was busy writing something on a piece of paper before eventually handing it to him casually.

“Umm… what’s this for?”

“Please message or call me on this number… Nurse Joy put me in charge of you so I’d… I’d like to check on how you’re doing as well… that way I can instruct you how to treat your bruise better… I also included my social profile there in case you’re more into that…”

Oh wow…

That’s… that’s very thoughtful of her. Oh my god

“This is amazing Mina… you sure that Engineering was the right path that you took? You’d definitely be a good doctor, you know.”

Mina chuckled.

“Heh… it’s a tough choice but this is just a volunteer work for me… I guess it just so happened that I saw you here and I felt compelled to treat your injury and all… let’s just go with that. Umm… since we’re pretty much done here, I’ll just clean up so we can go on ahead and Nurse Joy could deal with the formalities now, shall we? I really… I really don’t want to deal with any of her thoughts in case that she’s having the wrong idea on what’s taking us so long in here….”

“Okay, okay… thank you. I promise I’ll message you about this and update you accordingly. I already feel better knowing I have a personal doctor. It’s not often that you bump into someone and they end up doing a huge favour for you twice, you know.”

With that, Mina responded on his statement with a very gummy smile. Jae-in already prepared to stand when Mina began to speak once again.

“Well, if you want to get even just by a bit… allow me to escort you back to your class. That way, I can be assured that you’ve arrived well knowing how you can only see half of what you’re used to.”

“Sounds like a plan. Let’s do that then.”

---

Next Chapter: Angel with a Shotgun

[e-wills-afterhours]

Heeey. I have a request, Hiccup having phantom pains and Astrid taking care of him? Thanks!

A/N: Sure thing, Nonny. I think I wrote this very oneshot years ago, but I cannot find it, for the life of me. Might as well do an updated version!

And who doesn't love a little Hiccstrid tenderness, amirite?

Our beloved OTP is 17 here. I also seem to be writing a lot of Hiccstrid from the 5-year gap between HTTYD 1 and 2 lately minus RTTE...

Aaaaaand, I'm kind of okay with that right now. I hope you are too.

Rating: T (all of my work pretty much is unless I rate it otherwise)

Just One of Many Things

-------

If Astrid was asked to list all of the things she appreciated about Hiccup Horrendous Haddock, it would be long. Perhaps, equal in length to all of the things that aggravated her about him. Some qualities even held spots in both categories. His stubbornness, for example, could be quite the asset when he was in the right; but just as much a headache when he got stuck on some new harebrained idea.

She loved him, regardless.

Growing up amid dragon raids, she did not understand the old adage "opposites attract." It seemed counterintuitive. What held two people together who could not see eye-to-eye on anything? In those days, there was no one more unsuited for each other's company than she and Hiccup.

But then the fog of war lifted, and she finally saw him for who he was. She came to realize that they had more in common than she dared to imagine. They wanted the same things, from the world and each other; albeit their approaches were drastically different. Therein lied their beautiful counterbalance. Everything she needed was within his capacity to give.

He was patient and kind, slow to anger, and remarkably intelligent--almost frighteningly so. Generous with his resources and abilities, she seldom had to ask him for anything he hadn't already thought to provide. He was the calm to her storm.

But true to form, some of his other admirable qualities irked her as much as they endeared him to her--and in that moment, his fierce independence was the bane of her existence. He had a pesky habit of refusing to ask for help, even if he needed it.

The more she pressed him for the truth, the more he denied the extent of the problem.

"Just because you can suffer in silence, doesn't mean you have to," she huffed, arms folded. "You're not winning any prizes."

"I'm fine," he insisted, through gritted teeth as he limped toward the hearth, all but dragging his prosthetic along.

His gait was always the slightest bit uneven, ever since the Red Death took his left leg. One needed a keen eye to notice it; he had adapted so quickly. It made his exaggerated lurches all the more pronounced and worrisome as he braced himself against the mantle.

"You're in pain," she said, frowning deeply.

"It's just a little burning," he replied with a feeble smile, the faintest edge in his voice.

Astrid could make out the beads of sweat glistening on his brow and upper lip from across the room. The crackling fire illuminated them clearly.

"Hiccup, there's nothing there to burn," she retorted, pointing to his metal appendage.

He let out a dry laugh. "Really? I hadn't noticed."

Astrid clicked her tongue. Unlike him, she was prone to impatience. She strode across the room and grabbed him by the shoulders. With a sweep of a well-placed boot to the ankle, she kicked his good and steady leg out from underneath him. Looping one arm beneath his, she guided his fall and avoided further injury as he crumpled to the floor.

"Frigg og Eir!" Astrid, he hissed when he landed. "You don't have to kick my leg out from underneath me! I only have just the one!"

She crouched down in front of him, her expression flat. "At least your sense of humor's still intact."

"Are you going to be kicking that out from me next?" he asked, indignant.

She sighed and sat back on her knees. Her face softened when she considered his labored breathing and clenched fists. His mouth was a tight, thin line as he tried to force the pain down where she wouldn't see. But the suffering was plain in his eyes.

"Please, let me help you," she murmured, placing a hand on his knee. "I want to do this. Just...tell me how."

He paused for a beat, then said, "You really don't have to--"

"Hiccup...," and his name was a soft plea on her lips; one he never could resist.

A drop of sweat trickled down from his temple. He stared at her. There was obvious tension in his neck and shoulders. His left leg jutted out stiffly in front of him while he leaned back. It was as if he thought distance from his metal leg my improve things.

He finally relented with a shuddering exhale.

"Okay." He sat up a little straighter and repeated with more conviction, "Okay."

Astrid gently unfastened his prosthetic and set it aside. Not too long ago, he would have never allowed such a thing--to spare her from his indignity, or some such nonsense. But she never cared, and he had come to accept that. A quarter or more of the adults on Berk had some sort of fake extremity: battle scares of a bygone era. Nothing about Hiccup could ever repulse her. After all, she had grown up alongside Snotlout and the twins; and nothing was sacred anymore.

"When was the last time this happened?" she asked as she rolled his pantleg up over his knee.

"Months ago," he replied, teeth clenched. He breathed through the pain, nostrils flaring. "I don't remember. It's been that long."

"What now?" she asked, holding what remained of his lower leg in her hands.

He betrayed himself with a small whimper, then gestured vaguely at the kitchen. "There's a cloth or a rag. Boiled water on the pot on the table. Should just be warm now."

Astrid filled in the blanks, which wasn't difficult. She got up at once to fetch the rag and took it over to the pot of water that had more than likely been boiled for tea, or some other herbal concoction. With caution, she tested the temperature of the water with the knuckle of her pinky finger. Deciding it was no longer scalding, as Hiccup had said, she dunked the rag in. The excess water, she wrung back into the pot.

"Do I lay it on, or do I wrap it?" she asked, returning to where her boyfriend sat on the floor.

"Wrap it," he replied. Then, with a weak grin, he added, "Please."

Astrid nodded and wrapped the warm rag around the stump of his leg with great care, covering as much of the residual calf muscle as possible. She gave his leg the tenderest squeeze.

He let out a groan, head falling back as he supported his weight on his hands.

"No good?" Astrid asked in alarm. "Is it too hot?"

"It hurts, but it's perfect."

She wrinkled her nose. "What?"

"Do...that again," he said, making a kneading motion in the air with his hands.

"Massage?"

"Yes. But it sounds better when you say it."

She rolled her eyes playfully. "You're such a dork. I mean, truly-- the smartest dumbass I've ever known."

He flashed her a genuine smile then laid all the way back on the floor. She settled in a crossed-legged position and massaged the length of his lower leg, up to the knee, over the warm rag.

They stayed in comfortable silence apart from the occasional pop and hiss from the fire. Hiccup, lying down with his eyes closed, and Astrid, tending to the stump in her lap. It was peaceful and uniquely intimate. She'd keep at it all night to take his pain away, if he only asked, but she knew he never would. So, she did what she could for him in that late hour, running her thumbs to the bend of his knee with steady pressure. Followed by long, kneading strokes back down to the end of his limb, where thick ribbons of scar tissue and mangled remnants of flesh all came together, long stitched off. She wondered how much of her touch he could still feel. He had never told her.

She wondered vaguely if her parents were expecting her home. Time was of little consequence whenever they were alone together. The minutes either crawled or flew by; it didn't really matter either way. All Astrid cared about was easing some of the burden he carried. To help, to do something for him, was all she ever wanted.

Hiccup's breathing eventually evened out. His skin was no longer adorned with sweat, and all the tension had left his body. If she didn't know better, she'd think he was asleep.

"Hiccup?" she asked, cutting through silence, and it was almost jarring.

"Hm?" he replied, opening his eyes to meet her gaze.

"Does the pain always feel the same? Like your leg's on fire, I mean."

He thought for a moment, staring at the ceiling, then answered, "Yes. It happens far less often now than it did in the beginning. But the feeling is always the same. Maybe slightly less intense, but I can't recall."

Astrid shook her head. To imagine a sudden and unexpected sensation of one's own flesh burning was horrific.

"Well, that's awful," she muttered.

He shrugged. "Gobber told me this 'phantom pain' happens more often in the first few years. I might get to a point where it doesn't happen anymore. Or it could happen randomly and infrequently for the rest of my life. Who knows."

"I just...hate that it has to be you."

A silence fell over them again, much heavier than the last. He studied her all the while, his eyes appearing impossibly warmer in the firelight.

He sat up slowly. "I'm alright now. You can stop." When she shot him a skeptical look, he insisted, "Honestly, it's passed. These episodes don't last forever."

She sighed and handed him his metal leg, which he took after rolling his pantleg back down. The speed and finesse with which he reattached was always interesting--but what was more remarkable was that he never complained. Not once, that she had ever heard. Yet, he had brought peace to their island, and he saved the people that had chided him for years--but no one else lost limbs in that fight. Just one boy and his dragon, against an ancient monster, risking everything to stop the cycle of fire and death that plagued their people for centuries. The exchange seemed one-sided; that he should still experience echos of pain from that day, was a terrible injustice in her eyes.

"Do you ever regret it?" she asked.

He glanced up, brow furrowed, as if the question itself was confusing.

"The Red Death is gone. The dragons are free. Berk is safer for our people and our dragons. You're safer." He took her hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze. With the utmost assuredness, he answered, "No. I don't regret it. Not for a moment."

She closed her eyes and leaned forward until their foreheads touched.

"You're unbelievable, Hiccup Haddock," she said. "Completely unbelievable."

"I thought that's what you love about me."

"Just one of many things," she murmured against his lips, and he smiled.

[camsthisky]

"you’re not alone . you’re stuck with me forever . sorry . ” + Jason and Dick (and anyone other family member)?

“Everyone okay?” Dick croaks as the dust and rubble settles around them. He’s lying on his back, kept still by something pinning his legs down. He doesn’t dare assess himself quite yet. “Hood? Batgirl?”

“Okay,” Cass says, and Dick watches as she stumbles over to him, looking dusty, but relatively alright. She kneels next to him with a frown. She meets his eyes—well, relatively since they’re both wearing masks—and asks, “Okay?”

Dick grimaces. “Not really.” Louder, he calls, “Red Hood?!”

“Here, here,” Jason says, coughing into his fist. He’s missing his helmet and there’s a gash sluggishly bleeding from his right cheek, smearing a trail of blood down his face. He’s also limping, but only slightly.

“Can you move?” Cass asks Dick as Jason pulls out his flashlight.

Dick winces at the sudden light, his mask having already automatically switched to night vision. He huffs. “Jay. Off.”

“Names.”

Dick scowls. “The light.”

“Deal with it,” Jason snaps. “My night vision isn’t working.”

Dick turns off his own night vision feature, if only to not be blinded by the damn flashlight if it passes over his eyes again.

That’s when Jason’s flashlight lands on where Dick is pinned.

“Crap,” Jason breathes.

“Can you move them?” Cass asks, sounding a touch more impatient, and Dick realizes that Cass has already asked once. “Your legs.”

“No,” says Dick, just barely trying. He’s tired, but he knows that time is up. He can’t get away with ignoring his own situation any longer. Probably shouldn’t have even waited this long. His legs are tingling from lack of blood flow, mixing with a sharp pain shooting through them both. Still he’s lucky, because—“I can still feel them, though.”

“We’ll lift,” Jason says to Cass, who nods. Dick closes his eyes and braces himself for the inevitable pain of rubble being lifted off his crushed legs.

“Hhh.”

The sounds he makes is nothing more than an agonized hissed through his teeth, and Dick can’t help the cold sweat that sweeps across his body in a slow wave as his siblings manage to move the slab of—wall, maybe? who knows, really—from where it’s crushing his poor legs.

Something taps against his shinbone and then his kneecap.

“Stop, stop, I feel it,” Dick gasps, bringing his legs up in a protective curl as pain throbs through most of his lower body. His left hip hurts like hell, and his every muscle, bone, and tendon feels like they’ve been squeezed and then flattened like a pancake. He rolls over onto his side so he can bring his knees up to his chest, to wait out the lingering intensity of the pain.

“Breathe,” Cass says.

Dick breathes.

He closes his eyes and blocks out everything and, again, just breathes. His siblings let him.

When he has a better grasp on his agony, Dick finally relaxes. The world filters back in. Cass is running fingers through Dick’s dusty hair (something she one hundred percent learned from Bruce, because only a select few know how much the motion tends to calm him down).

On the other hand, Dick blinks his eyes open to find Jason agitatedly pacing.

“The hell?” Jason murmurs, his flashlight whipping back and forth with his movements as he surveys their surroundings. “Did we get completely sealed in?”

Dick wishes desperately he would stop. Even without night vision, Jason’s impromptu strobe light effect is causing Dick’s head to ache. Instead of saying this, he hums contemplatively. “Wonder if there’s a signal this far down.”

Jason huffs, not slowing in the least. He’s searching for something, and dear god does Dick want him to find it already. “You’re the one with the comms in your ear. You try it.”

They’re in the sewers, is the thing. And while Bruce and Babs have designed the comms system to work incredibly well, even in the sewers, the signal still needs to be able to make it to the system in order to be functional.

With the three of them sealed in this place, seemingly with no way out, pretty deep in the sewer system where they had been disabling bombs throughout the city, Dick isn’t optimistic about their chances of getting a signal.

(They’d just been a few seconds too late for that last bomb, which unfortunately led them to their current circumstances.)

While Jason grumbles, Cass activates her emergency signal and the comms. She calls out, “Batman? Oracle?”

Jason shuts up for the five seconds before Cass looks between both Dick and Jason and shakes her head.

Dick lets out a slow exhale through his nose. He hadn’t really held out much hope for that anyways.

Jason groans. “Holy batcannoli, I can’t believe we’re stuck down here. And where’s my hecking helmet?!”

Cass helpfully points to the rubble sealing them in. Jason kicks a rock with a yell. Dick sighs.

“Well, at least you’re not alone down here,” Dick says as optimistically as he can—although, given the circumstances, it does fall a little flat.

Jason snorts. “Right. Sure, Batgirl is an asset, but you’re a sack of bruised bones right now. That’s not helpful in the slightest, Dickface.”

Dick’s eyelashes flutter of their own accord. He hums. “Too bad. Looks like you’re stuck with me. Sorry.”

“Dick,” Cass says, her fingers tracing lightly over his face. “Stay awake.”

“I am awake.”

“You’re starting to—” Cass pauses. Dick can’t see the look on her face, because somehow, his eyes have fully closed without his permission, and he can’t seem to find the strength to open them again. “—to slur.”

The sounds of Jason’s pacing stop. Silence rings loud in their sealed section of the sewers. Then, “Did he hit his head?”

“Not sure,” Cass answers.

“Dick,” Jason says, sounding quite a bit closer, like he’s maybe crouching down next to Cass or something—but Dick hadn’t heard him move, and Jason’s boots are too clunky to not make sound against the concrete. “Dick, did you hit your head?”

Dick’s eyebrows furrow, but he doesn’t open his eyes. He doesn’t remember hitting his head. The only thing he clearly remembers about the blast is heavy pieces of rubble crushing his legs. “Maybe?”

“Great,” Jason says. He’s pulling out his I’m-rolling-my-eyes-at-your-ridiculous-incompetency voice. “So my bruised bones of a big brother probably also has a concussion. Just great.”

“It’s not his fault he’s injured,” Cass tells Jason. “He was disarming the bomb.”

Which means Dick took the brunt of the blast when it was remotely activated.

Dick really means to tack onto Cass’s statement, maybe tease Jason a little and try to reassure both his younger siblings that not everything is hopeless, because he’s the best big brother ever, of course.

Only, he can’t find the strength to open his mouth and talk. Instead, the voices around him become watery, distorted, and Dick’s head flares in pain.

When unconsciousness comes to take him, he doesn’t resist.

—

“—manage to even find us in the first place?” is the first thing Dick hears as he swims back to consciousness. Jason almost sounds relieved.

“The seismic device didn’t just affect the sewers,” someone replies. It takes a lot of effort for Dick to recognize it as Tim. “A couple buildings partially collapsed, and since we knew the three of you were down here, it was a good starting point to look when none of you would answer the comms.”

“Huh,” is all Jason says.

“Nightwing,” Bruce says, startling Dick from the dazed lull he’d been in as he listened to his brothers talking. He opens his eyes, blinking up bewilderingly at what he can see of Bruce’s face behind the cowl.

“B?” Dick murmurs. He doesn’t move, yet, from where’s curled on his side, but he feels an abortive twitch of his fingers at the reassuring sight of Batman. “‘S goin’ on?”

“What do you remember?”

Right. Bruce did not give easy answers. Life is a series of puzzles, Dick Grayson, fueled by none other than Bruce Wayne himself.

Dick frowns and casts his mind back. “The wall blew up,” he decides. “I got hurt?”

He’s only half sure about that last one, but considering his position on the ground, the throbbing in his head and hip, and Bruce’s concerned dad frown that’s taking over his Batman grimace, Dick thinks that he’s probably on the right track.

“Concussion,” Cass says, startling Dick when she pops her head over Bruce’s shoulder. “Also, ‘a sack of bruised bones.’”

That—sounds familiar. He thinks he remembers Jason saying something like that.

Bruce’s frown gets deeper. “Straighten your legs.”

“Please,” Dick tacks on for Bruce when he lacks the manners to be nice, basically on instinct at this point, even as he—slowly, and with a great deal of agony—does what Bruce tells him to do.

They go through a couple more tests, until finally Bruce, unhappy, deems, “We need to move you.”

Dick blinks when Bruce turns away to murmur something to one of the others. A conversation washes over him, and Dick can’t help but let himself tune it out. The noise settles as vague humming—indistinct and comforting.

“—two, three,” Bruce says as Dick’s entire vision goes white.

He only manages to come back to himself in increments.

There are arms holding him tight. Familiar murmurs in his ear. The comforting sound of Batman’s heavy cape brushing against concrete.

“—there, Chum,” Bruce is saying, and if Dick had the capability, he would have teased Bruce for pulling out both the concerned dad frown and the concerned dad voice in one night.

As it is, the only thing that comes out of his mouth when he opens it are harsh pants for air. Every step jostles him, and agony is his constant companion throughout the entire journey to the surface.

Somehow, Dick is still conscious when he’s laid down in the backseat of the batmobile. He’s grateful he’s not moving anymore, and carefully doesn’t think of the upcoming ride back to the Cave.

He only really starts to relax when Bruce settles the cape over him. Wrapped up inside it, Dick almost feels like he’s ten years old again. Batman’s has always felt like warmth and protection and home. This time is no different.

“Batgirl and Robin, keep Nightwing as still as possible. Red Hood, in the front. Start updating Oracle.”

“Why do they—”

“You’re too bulky, Hood. Me and Batgirl are smaller than you. It’s still going to be a tight fit, but it’s the most comfortable for everyone this way.”

“Whatever.”

“Enough. Car. Now.”

There’s lots of careful but hurried scrambling. Dick thinks he passes out a few times on the way back. He doesn’t remember much, either. Just bits and snatches here and there—His siblings talking to him, Bruce giving orders, Jason being snappy and unwittingly dragging Tim into an argument.

And then—he wakes up. A lot more clear-headed than he’d felt the last time he’d been conscious (though, that wasn’t saying much).

To Dick’s surprise, he’s on his side again, dressed in sweats with a pillow between his legs. He opens his eyes to the Wayne Manor living room, and—yes, he’s on the couch. The curtains are drawn, but it’s clearly sometime past sunrise.

Bruce is sitting cross-legged in front of him, reading a book.

“Bruce?” Dick calls, his voice still somewhat slurred. “Why’m I on the couch?”

“You started crying when I said you had to stay in the infirmary,” Bruce tells him, grabbing a bookmark and setting his book off to the side.

Dick frowns. He doesn’t remember that. Still, he manages to say, “You’re such a pushover.”

“How do you feel?”

Dick blinks a dozen times in a row, trying to assess his body and keep up with the change in subject. “Kinda woozy. My hip hurts a lot.”

“Hn.”

“Think I need to brush up on my Bat speak,” Dick murmurs. “Dunno what that one meant.”

Bruce hums again. “You’re incredibly lucky. We’ll need to be careful for the next few weeks.”

“What’s the diagnosis, doc?”

“Crush injuries to your legs and left hip. Not overly severe, and we managed to stabilize you once we realized you were in shock.”

Dick thinks about that for a second. “Concussion? I’m pretty sure I remember something about a concussion.”

“It’s mild,” Bruce tells him. “It was the shock that was the real problem.”

“Oh.” Dick sighs into the pillow under his head. “I’m tired.”

Bruce gives him a soft smile, just slight enough that if Dick hadn’t been so familiar with Bruce’s microexpressions, he would have thought he’d been mistaken. Fingers lightly card through his hair, and Dick’s eyes start closing of their own accord.

“Then sleep,” Bruce says.

Dick sleeps.

[rebrandedbard]

3 for Jaskier×Geralt please

3. “Please, don’t leave.”

tw: heat stroke

wc: 1706

Rain Rain Go Away

Geralt takes on a contract to resolve tensions between an angry nymph and the farmers who insulted her. Jaskier doesn’t do well in the heatwave she sends in retribution. Light angst ensues as Geralt learns why Jaskier hid his struggle.

-

Above them, the sun blistered. Geralt had walked astride Jaskier, the sleeves of his shirt rolled above his elbows. Though he ran hotter than humans, his body adjusted well to heat, and a bit of sweat went a long way to keeping him cool. As usual, Jaskier had elected to accompany him. He carried with him only his notebook, tucked in the hem of his trousers. This contract required no fighting and Geralt had been happy enough to leave his armour behind at the inn. Despite his initial reservations, he knew it would have been more uncomfortable to wear it in this weather, and if things took a wrong turn, his signs would be enough for such a simple confrontation. The humans hadn’t angered anything particularly powerful.

“Can this heatwave really be the work of a nymph?” Jaskier quietly complained. He tugged at the front of his shirt, fanning air inside. The hair stuck to his forehead was almost black, being so saturated with sweat. The bottom of his shirt had long come untucked and hung loose around him. He was talking to himself, the words breathy. Even now he was beginning to lag behind.

“They complained of the rain,” Geralt replied. “She sent it as a blessing for their crops. Until I can make their apology formally known, this is how things will be.”

Jaskier grunted and said no more. His feet dragged on the dirt path. Now and then he took a deeper breath and paused, braced on his knees. He would then compensate by jogging up to Geralt, though in a matter of minutes he would fall behind again.

The third time, Geralt turned back and said, “You’re slowing me down.”

“Nonsense!” Jaskier said, perking up performatively. He straightened his back and fluttered a careless hand in the air. “You just keep pace and I’ll catch up when I catch up. In the past you’ve made your position perfectly clear on the subject—you don’t have to wait for me. Besides, it can’t be much farther. Then again, ah, how far is it to this nymph’s hideout exactly?”

“It’s there,” Geralt said. He pointed to a small grove beyond the last farmer’s field.

Jaskier slumped, following his finger. “That’s … not so very far. Except that it is. Quite far. I thought you said that was the last hill just now and here we are, about to climb another. I may walk everywhere we go but—phew!” He paused to pant. Talking only seemed to make his face redder with effort. He sighed and sat in the dirt, head lolling forward. “Fuck, Geralt. It’s bloody hot. I’ll get blisters in this heat.”

“Go back and wait it out.”

“It’ll be twice as long going back as going forward. Besides, I doubt the nymph is keeping her grove as hot as the village. My blood would boil in the deepest basement there, but the grove … it’s probably … very cool.” He groaned and lay back on the ground, one arm over his eyes. “Damn heat. Can barely—well, you know. The thing I do.”

He flapped a hand above his head like a little mouth, opening and closing.

“Talk?” Geralt surmised.

Jaskier pointed a finger at him. “That, yes, thank you.”

Geralt sighed and grabbed his hand, pulling him to his feet. “Come on. We’ll be there in ten minutes if you keep walking.”

“Right. I’m up. I’m—oh.” He wobbled on his feet, pitching forward. Geralt caught him with one arm, but found he needed two to keep Jaskier upright, taking the full weight of him. Jaskier groped at his shoulder, his eyes unfocused. “Stood too quickly,” he said. “Just give me a moment, I’ll … I’m alright.”

He pulled out of Geralt’s arms and marched deliberately forward, following the path downhill. He made it two steps before swaying once more and stumbling to his knees. The momentum carried him and he rolled sideways, sliding on his back in the dust.

“Jaskier!” Geralt rushed down the hill and held him upright. He could hear his heart racing unnaturally. “Jaskier, how long have you been pushing yourself?”

Jaskier looked at him, confused. He patted his ear, brow furrowed as he focused. “I can’t hear you,” he whispered. He looked at Geralt in alarm, patting his ear still. “I—I can’t … can’t hear … what … ” His eyes lost focus once more, then his eyes rolled back and he went slack.

“Jas—Jaskier? Hey!” Geralt snapped in front of his face, but Jaskier made no response. “Fuck,” he hissed. He ought to have been more concerned when Jaskier stopped talking before. He scooped Jaskier up, draped over his shoulders, and hurried along the road. They needed to get somewhere cool fast. He only hoped Jaskier would be right about the grove.

“Idiot complains about a pebble between his toes but never thinks to take off his boot,” Geralt grumbled. Jaskier wasn’t the most pragmatic when it came to problem solving, preferring vocalization to action. “Now he keeps his mouth shut. Still doesn’t take off the boot.”

It was a struggle to jog without jostling Jaskier. He made for an awkward bulk, tipping Geralt’s balance on a few steps. Geralt had carried him before, but it was always a surprise to him how much more Jaskier weighed than expected. He was no easy burden.

It troubled Geralt that Jaskier had not taken steps to keep himself cool, or even to give any hint of his condition. He’d never been one to suffer in silence. Surely he would have noticed that something was wrong; he could not be so blind to his own circumstances.

When he reached the grove, he was relieved to find it was cool. He carried Jaskier into the center and set him under the dark shadow of a tree to keep him out of the sun. Carefully, he stripped him of his shirt and trousers. To help him cool off, Geralt wet the hem of Jaskier’s shirt with his water-skin and dabbed it on his face and chest, letting the air do the rest. Tilting Jaskier’s head back, he poured water down his throat, then left the remainder with him, just beside his hand.

The nymph found Geralt not long after he started his search. It was just as well that Jaskier had fainted, for he likely would have fainted had he been awake to learn that the nymph recognized him. She had heard his songs from the men who passed through her grove, humming and singing on their way to work, and from the children who sat in its shade. It happened that she was quite the fan of his music, and she was horrified that he’d become a consequential victim of her ire.

As the hot winds died down, the clouds were once more permitted to gather. The sun was hidden away and a light drizzle rained down over them. She wove Jaskier a fan of grass and twig, tending to him until his skin returned to its usual color. Geralt sat with her and made the apology as promised, though she’d long forgotten her anger in her distress over the famed bard. She lingered until he had sufficiently cooled, then went to inspect the villagers’ fields.

By the end of the hour, Jaskier began to stir. Geralt helped him sit up against the tree and would not allow him to try his feet. He passed him the water-skin, made him drink, and folded the shirt behind his head to keep him off the bark. When he was sure Jaskier had recovered enough, it was time for his scolding.

“What did you think you were doing?” Geralt quietly demanded. He saw the way Jaskier started and adjusted his voice. He sighed and took to folding Jaskier’s trousers more neatly, keeping his eyes lowered, giving him space. “If you were struggling, you should have said.”

Jaskier twisted the cork of the water-skin nervously. “I … didn’t want to be left behind,” he replied. His voice was weak, no more than a huff of air with each word. “I thought if I just kept going, I would learn to adjust. I would just get used to it. And I did, up to a point.”

“Why would you think—” but Geralt stopped himself. Jaskier had every right to believe it. Geralt had threatened to leave him behind if he ever lagged behind when they first met. Jaskier had been slow at the start, and over the years he had adjusted well to life on the road. Until now, he’d kept up. But Geralt had never slowed down.

“I didn’t want to be a burden,” Jaskier concluded.

Geralt placed the trousers in Jaskier’s lap. The movement startled Jaskier and he seemed to notice for the first time where he was, and under what circumstances. While he struggled with mixed feelings toward his current state of modesty, Geralt switched the empty water-skin with a second. He picked up the fan and waved it between them.

“You’ll always be a burden,” Geralt said. He handed Jaskier the fan and leaned over to adjust the shirt behind his head before it could slip down. “You’re a burden,” he explained, “but I don’t mind carrying you. You’re not so heavy. And even if you were, I’d … if you were, I’d adjust.” Though it was not as eloquent as the feeling he meant, it was the best Geralt could do to say it.

Jaskier stared at him in astonishment, the water-skin limp in his hands. Geralt opened it for him, helped him to drink it, then made him lie down once more. The contract was complete, but Jaskier needed rest still.

Geralt retrieved the empty water-skin and turned. A river ran nearby, and Jaskier would need more water when he rose. But as he turned to stand, Jaskier caught his arm. He looked up at Geralt with uncertainty in his eyes.

“Please, don’t leave,” he whispered.

And Geralt sat down once more. He put a hand on Jaskier’s shoulder, gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll stay, Jaskier.” He would always stay, as long as Jaskier asked it of him.

-

Send me drabble prompts!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Push

Warnings: noncon sex, oral, mentions of violence, abuse, and death.

This is Lee Bodecker (who is already dark!af) and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your daddy’s in business with the Sheriff but a dirty cop has not limits.

Note: This is my first Lee Bodecker fic. Obviously it’s a dark on so mind the warnings. Lee is just awful. Like what a bastard, the worst!

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

‘She said "I don't know if I've ever been good enough I'm a little bit rusty, and I think my head is caving in”’

-Push, Matchbox Twenty

🚔

You traced the small crack along the lip of the plate. The dinner set your mother had been so proud of was wearing away. Everything had started to since her death. The farmhouse seemed darker, more desolate amid the sentinel pines, your father's shed more sinister though the childhood tales of what was within had long since been dispelled. The walls shuddered with each gust of late autumn air.

The house was empty but for you. Your brothers were at about their usual business, Arn and Cal at work at yard and Will in his classes, though more likely bumming cigarettes behind the church. Your father had rumbled off in his old Ford pick-up not an hour ago but hadn't given you a reason. He never did and it was better that way. Better you didn't ask questions or speak out of turn. Focus on yourself, in the work that needed to be done as the men bustled in and out of your purview.

You set the plate on the mat to dry, a soapy bubble dripped down the back as you plunged your hand back into the water. You piled the dishes one after the other, scrubbing and scouring. The clink of the thick glass painted with faded petals and the old silverware was thunderous in the chilly kitchen.

You heard an engine, quieter than your father's cantankerous truck. The gravel mulched under the tires and you grabbed a rag to dry your hands as you walked through the front door. You peeked out the window as the cruiser pulled up; the old black and white with its blue and red crown.

Sheriff Bodecker came around maybe once every two weeks. You didn't keep track, you never spoke to him. Your daddy always took him to the shed for a beer and a chat. The uniform took a cut of the profits from your father's sill. The moonshine sold better than the beer sold at the store in town but wasn't allowed on the shelves. the lawman turned his eye for a percentage and the occasional jug of the brew.

You watched the sheriff brace himself against his door and lift himself out of the car. His jacket was zipped up against the impending winter but could barely contain his stomach. He reached into his car and plopped his hat on his head before he slammed the door. His boots were just as loud as his tires as he rounded the vehicle and paced towards your daddy's shed.

He turned back, hands on his hips, and peered across the empty lot. The big blue truck always greeted visitors, not that there were many. You watched the sheriff retreat and as he neared the porch, you let go of the curtain and pressed yourself to the door.

Your brothers and your father were the only people in your life. You minded the house and spent your spare time with one of your mama's old books or a needle and thread. 

The door shook as he knocked. You blinked and slowly turned. You grabbed the handle but didn't pull. He must have known your daddy wasn't there. A fool could guess that.

He banged again and you twisted the knob. Slowly, you pulled the door open just a crack. You looked through with one eye as the sheriff felt around impatiently in his pockets.

"Daddy ain't here," you said quietly.

He tilted his head and grinned. He scoffed and ripped his hand out of his jacket.

"I guessed that. Be a shit officer if I couldn't," he snickered. "Pardon the language, miss."

"I don't know when he'll be back," you said.

"I got time," he checked his watch.

There was a moment of silence as he looked at you. You gulped, uncertain.

"Sorry, we don't get many visitors. Guess I should invite you in… I got coffee? Tea?"

He considered you through the inch between the frame and the door. "You gonna have to open up for that," he said, "you got anything sweet?"

"Some leftover cake from Arn's birthday. It's probably stale." You answered as he placed his hand flat on the door. "It's strawberry cream."

"Mm, you make it yourself?" He asked as his other hand rested on his belt.

"Mama's recipe," you explained.

"Well,” he pushed on the door, "Can I come in then or am I eatin' on the porch?"

You stared at him and slowly stepped back as he put more weight against the door. He dropped his arm as you were flush to the wall and he stepped inside. You looked at his boots as he pulled the door from your grasp and threw it shut behind him. He chuckled as he turned to you again and looked at his feet.

“Not meaning to mess up your floors, miss,” he wiped the treads on the mat.

“It’s fine. My brothers never did care much either,” you waved away his words and retreated, “I’ll get you that cake.”

You went to the kitchen and took the glass lid of the cake dish. That was your mother’s too. The long crack up the side made you want to cry. If she could see how the life she’d left behind had become so distorted. You took a plate from the mat and dried it before you laid it out. You cut a slice from the cake and carefully angled it onto the saucer.

“Should I put the kettle on?” You asked as you looked over your shoulder.

He shrugged out of his jacket and hung it over a chair before he sat. The wood groaned under him. He put his hat on the table decisively.

“You got milk? I had a coffee on the way.” He sat back in the chair and spread his legs wide.

“Milk,” you repeated as you neared and set the plate on the table then grabbed a fork from the drawer. You handed him the silver then went to the fridge, “Should be enough.”

You poured him a glass and put it down beside the plate as he greedily cut a bite out of the sponge with his fork. You went back to the sink and stuck your hands in the tepid water as you fished out the last few bowls and scrubbed them one at a time. You could hear him chewing behind you as the metal hit the porcelain with each bite.

“You really don’t entertain much, do you?” He asked.

“Sheriff?” you pulled the stopped and grabbed the dish towel to dry your hands.

“You know, I go ‘round folks’ houses and the wives, they smile, flip their hair, even excuse themselves to powder up,” he remarked, “And here you are doing your washing. Your back to me and everything.”

“I told my daddy I’d have ‘em done,” you shrugged. “Besides, I wasn’t expecting ya.”

“I rarely announce myself to shiners,” he rolled his eyes, “Must be quite the life, hmm? You cleaning up behind four boys. You look old enough to have a man of your own to worry about.”

“Maybe,” you wrung the dish towel. 

“Most girls your age are outta their daddy’s house and settled down with a babe on their hip. Even two.” He said.

You frowned. “Well, Sheriff Bodecker, are you married?”

He squinted and tilted his head. He smirked and said ‘no’.

“You’re older than me. Maybe you’re the one who’s overdue.”

“Not too old,” he stabbed the last morsel of cake.

You turned away and grabbed a cup and wiped it dry. You went about drying each piece as he sat quietly. You sensed his gaze as you put away the dishes. The tension mounted as you snapped shut the cupboard and he tapped the plate with the fork.

You were relieved when you heard the gravel crunching outside. Your daddy was back. The putter of his old truck was a welcoming sound.

“That should be him,” you said as you went to the table and picked up his plate. 

He set the fork atop it and grabbed your wrist before you could back away. “You take good care of a man.”

You swallowed and resisted the urge to pull away. “Not too many men can take care of themselves,” you uttered.

He laughed and let you go. He stood and you quickly scurried away to dump the plate in the sink. “Probably right,” he said as he took his jacket and pulled it on, “Definitely not in the ways a woman can take care of a man.”

You turned the faucet as the front door clattered. “Sherriff?” You father called down the hall, “You in here?”

“Here, Rhett,” He flipped his hat on and winked at you, “Son of a bitch, I’ve been waiting long enough.”

🚔

There was a cluster of brambles deep in the woods. A carpet of red, orange, and yellow leaves slowly wilted to brown beneath your feet as you climbed through the brush. You clutched your basket in one hand, your fingers cold even inside your gloves as the winter crept nearer with each day. 

You were the old scarf with the uneven edges. The first one you knitted yourself after your mama had shown you how. Your fleece jacket was hand-me-down from Cal, the sleeves were too long and it puffed out from your body when you zipped it, an old oil stain along the left side. Your skirt, your own creation from two of your mama’s, hung to your knees, your stocking barely thick enough to keep out the chill. The heel of your right boot flopped as it threatened to fall off entirely and made the trek all the more treacherous.

You tossed walnuts into your basket every now and then if they weren’t crushed or caked in mud. The trees muffled all noise the deeper you got and the trees loomed darker above. You stopped at the overgrowth of leaves and vines. Blackberries and raspberries hung plump in the last harvest of the season. You preferred the wild berries to the grocers; they were larger and juicier.

You set down your basket as you pushed through the sharp, thin branches and began to pick. You knelt to grab those hidden at the bottom, dumping handfuls atop your collection of walnuts.

You heard a rustle behind you. Subtle, soft. More likely a deer than a bear. You peeked over your shoulder but didn’t give much heed to the disturbance. There was always some creature flitting around in the forest. You tuned back to your work, your gloves dappled with the dark juices of the berries as some were so soft the burst on touch.

The bushes behind you shook and a twig snapped.

“What you doing out here all alone? I thought you were a bear.”

You stood as you recognized the voice. You dropped the berries in your hand into the basket before you turned and clapped off your gloves. “I thought the same of you.” You blanched as you saw his gun in hand. “You hunting out here with that?”

Sheriff Bodecker looked down at his pistol and scoffed. “Maybe,” he looked up as he kept his gun in hand, “How you know about these berries?”

“They’re wild. There for the taking,” you turned back and pushed through the brambles as you plucked berries from the bunch, “Mama used to take us here when we we’re kids.”

“You lookin’ to make another cake?” His boots crushed the leaves and sticks as he neared.

“Conserves; jams,” you answered bluntly as your basket filled with each handful. “Too bad strawberries are all gone for the season.”

You sensed him watching you as you stooped again. He reached down to your basket and took a raspberry. He popped it in his mouth as he straightened. You glanced over, his gun was pointed at the ground but still in hand. He knocked it gently against his leg as if thinking.

“Tart,” he said, “I prefer strawberry. Sweeter.”

“Mmm,” you grumbled as you dug through the bush, “Well, they charge too much down at the grocer for ‘em.”

It was quiet but for you pushing past the bramble and filling your basket. You could hear him breathing above you as he watched, transfixed by your simple ritual.

“Never told me why you’re all the way out here,” you said as you contented yourself with your haul. “Should I be worried? Some criminal out here hiding in the branches?”

“Sitting by the river on my break, as I do,” he shrugged as you lifted your basket. “It’s a far way back to your daddies. My cruiser’s closer. I can take you home.”

“I prefer the walk. Gives me an excuse to be away.” You smiled and made to step past him.

“We can take our time,” he caught your arm.

“Thank you, Sheriff, but I can find my own way back.”

He turned you to him and raised his gun. His eyes searched your face as he pressed the muzzle to your cheek.

“Ain’t much on the first look but after a while, you’re not so bad,” he said as you stiffened, “If you didn’t dress like a matron, you might even be pretty.” His gun fell to the collar of the jacket. “Usually men don’t offer favours to girls who ain’t pretty.”

“Let go of me,” you pleaded softly, “Sheriff…”

He pointed his gun skyward and released you. He holstered the pistol and laughed to himself.

“You go on lift up that skirt and give me a good look. Then I’ll drive you back to your daddy’s. You have my word as an officer of the law.”

“Pardon--”

“Shhh,” his hand lingered on the pistol, playing with the little strap that would snap it into place, “No one needs to know. Just a peek.”

“Sheriff--”

“Girl,” he cleared his throat, “Ya gonna do what I tell you or I’m gonna make you do worse. Now go on.”

He snatched the basket out of your hand and you let out your breath, relieved at least that he no longer had his fingers on his pistol.

“It’s cold out--”

“You argue with your daddy this much? He don’t seem the type to bide it and let me tell you, he seems a lot more tolerant than me.” He took another berry and chewed it, “So lift your skirt and we’ll be on our way.”

You stared at him. He smirked and licked the dark juice away from his lip. You hands shook as you bent and clumsily felt your skirt. You gathered the hem and stood. You bunched up the fabric around the bottom of the coat and he tutted in satisfaction.

“Turn around for me, girl,” he softly swung the basket, “Bend over so I can get a nice look at you.”

“Sher--”

“I really don’t wanna knock ya around and you don’t want that either,” he warned. “Two seconds. That’s all it will take.”

You gulped as bile burned your throat. You turned, careful not to catch the loose heel of your boot, and held your breath. You bent forward slowly.

“Further,” he ordered. The thin cotton of your underwear stretched across your ass. “Well, you got a much nicer backside than I expected.”

You let out a sharp breath as he pinched your ass and you stood suddenly. You stumbled forward and dropped your skirts. He laughed as you spun to face him. He shoved the basket against your chest. 

“See how easy that was,” he leered at you as you took the basket. “Who you hidin’ that body from? Maybe your daddy’s a selfish man, hmmm? Keeping you from all the men.”

“Can we go?” You muttered as you tried to hide behind the basket.

His blue eyes bore into yours and he shifted on his feet. His hand rubbed the front of his pants as he side stepped you.

“Sure, cruisers ‘round the bend.” He waved you past him and waited. “Come on, you said you wanted to go.”

You walked past him along the trail and he followed, close as his loud breaths filled the air. He pointed you down the path with curt orders and you came into sight of the broad river. His car was parked just off the sideroad that led back to the town. 

His keys jingled as he brushed by you, dragging his hand across your rear as he did. He opened the passenger door and looked at you. You neared and quickly got in, sitting on the long seat within. He closed the door harshly and rounded to the other side. The car dipped with his weight and he shoved the keys in the slot.

“Come here,” he gestured with two fingers, “Closer.”

“What?”

“Put the berries down,” he pointed to the other side of you and you placed the basket on the seat.

“I should be home sooner than later. I gotta start cooking--”

“I’ll get you there,” he grabbed your arm and slid you over the seat. He flipped his hat off and dropped it over the basket. He slung his arm over your shoulders. “Go on, put me in first.”

He gripped the wheel with his other hand and you blinked dumbly. You realised what he meant and pushed the shifted into gear.

“You cold? You’re shivering,” He said as he carefully turned the car, “Just tryna warm you up, girl.”

“I’m fine,” you crossed your arms as he drove at a snail's pace up the dirt road.

“I’m cold,” he gave an exaggerated ‘brrr’, “Do me a favour. Unzip me.”

“What?” You tried to pull away and he bent his arm around your neck, his hand along your chest as your head was nearly on his.

“I’m hard as fuck. You did that. Now take care of it.” He growled. “Get these damn pant unzipped and finish it.”

“Let go--”

“You don’t start listening and I’ll tell you’re daddy what a whore you are. Up in the woods flaunting your ass to the wind.”

You stared down at your stitched skirt. Your mama’s. You only wore her clothes. They were modest. You’d once worn a dress your friend Laverne had given you, more modern, with a shorter skirt. Your daddy belted you until it was ruined.

Your hands trembled as you felt along the Sheriff’s stomach and fumbled beneath. You unbuckled his belt clumsily and found his fly ready to burst. You pushed his zipper down as he groaned and he lifted his arm over the seat. His underwear was tight to his bulging cock.

“Now don’t keep wastin’ my time and take me out,” he snarled.

You pulled the elastic down and he popped out above it. You hesitated as you stared at his throbbing tip.

“I don’t… I don’t know what to do.” You confessed.

“Christ, girl,” he snickered, “Grab it and just… move your hand.”

You shuddered and wrapped your fingers around his cock. It was as thick as the rest of him. You gripped it but still had no idea what to do next.

“Up and down. Like your polishing a shotgun,” he urged, “A nice long barrel.” You bit down and slid your hand along his length. “Tighter,” he gritted through his teeth, “Faster…”

He purred as you played with him. He drove a little faster and steered with one hand as his other hand clawed the back of the seat.

“Fuckin’ don’t know, girl, feels like you know exactly what to you,” he uttered, “Got me close already.”

You stared at the middle of the steering wheel, the silver emblem, and tried not to think about what you were doing. His hand fell to your back and he caressed the back of your coat. He grasped the cloth in his fist as his grunts grew louder and longer.

“Grab that coffee cup,” he demanded, “Go on, you don’t wanna make a mess.”

You took the cup with one hand and popped the top off with your thumb. It flew onto the floor and he hummed.

“Hold it at the tip, before--” He choked on his words and you quickly moved the cup. 

He hit the brake and white ribbons streamed from his cock and laced the rim of the cup and your fingers. White globs slid down the paper and you slowed as a chill went through you. You pulled away your slimy hand and the cup. He took the latter and tossed it out the window and sighed.

“Shit, girl, that was good,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. He wiped his glistening cock before covering himself up and zipping up his pants. “Get cleaned up.” He tossed the cloth on your lap, “Not far from home, now.”

🚔

Your days passed like molasses. Ever since your venture into the forest, your life slowed to an interminable pace. Your thoughts were darkened by the sheriff’s shadow. You scrubbed, scoured, and swept but could not rid yourself of the memory. The scene played over and over in your head. You swore you could feel him still spread across the palm of your hand.

A week after, when he drove up behind the boys on their return from town, you watched through the window in dread. Cal, Arn, and Will hopped out of the truck and greeted the sheriff. The four of them went to the shed where your daddy was, the latter peeked over at the house as he passed.

You were reassured that your brothers were there. The sheriff wouldn’t, really couldn’t, try anything more. You went back to basting the thick chops. As you made to cap your homemade sauce, the back door opened and your daddy looked in from the mud room.

“You bring out some glasses for the lot of us. And put an extra chop on for the sheriff,” your father slurred. He’d already started drinking. “He be joining us tonight.”

He left before you could respond. He usually drank his swill out of old jars and saved your mother’s dishes. You coated another chop in spice and set it with the rest before slipping them in the oven. You washed your hands and counted out five glasses. You hugged them in your arms and stepped into your boots. 

You pushed the screen door open with your elbow and tramped down the steps. You crossed to the shed and kicked the door with your boot. “Daddy,” you called through the wood.

Will slid open the shed door and you stepped inside. You went to the table and placed the glasses down on the old chipped surface. You stood and looked around. Your father filled each with the clear shine from a large jar.

“Isn’t he a bit young?” You said as Will sat back down.

“Not your business, woman,” your daddy spat, “Go back in the house. To your business.”

“Yes, daddy.” You sniffed and looked at Will. He gave an apologetic smile but none of your brothers ever stood up against your daddy.

“Lady not joining us?” Bodecker asked.

“Ha, that girl gets a whiff of this stuff and she’d be on her back. This ain’t no drink for ladies,” your daddy chortled. “About time you tried it. What you been doin’ will all that swill I give ya.”

“Boys at the station like it. I think they’re some of your best customers, ain’t they?” Bodecker countered. “Besides, I been tryna stay clear of the drink.”

“One night won’t hurt,” your daddy coaxed.

You went back to the door and slid it shut behind you as the men continued to chatter. Well, they would at least drink themselves too senseless to bother you much.

🚔

You cleared the table of the empty plates and scraps left by the drunken men. They had been loud and raucous, so much so you’d eaten your dinner at the counter to avoid them. When they finished, they left in a stumble, though the sheriff seemed as steady as ever as he trailed behind. He stopped at the door as he held it and peered back from the mud room at you.

You washed the dishes and put them away. You wiped down the table and fixed the chairs around it. The night was moonless and eerie. The wind wailed and shook each window and door in the house as it seemed to blow right through the walls.

The mud room door clattered again. It had been over an hour since the men returned to the shed. Their voices no longer carried in the air but the shed remained alight from within. You turned as Bodecker closed the door. He carried a tall glass of swill as he stopped in the door frame.

“Lightweights,” he said, “All your men passed out. Think one of ‘em pissed in their pants.”

“You’re drunk,” you said as you kept behind the table.

“Not really. I couldn’t finish mine,” he crossed to the other side of the table and set down the glass, “Why don’t you finish it for me?”

“I don’t drink that stuff,” you said, “Dump it out on the grass.”

“You work so hard. You should have a little fun,” he rounded the table and slid the glass across it as he neared, “Come on. Have a drink.”

“I don’t--” He grabbed you suddenly, wrestled you down into a chair and held you there by your shoulders.

He lifted one hand and felt around his belt. He flicked his holster open and rubbed the pistol with his thumb. 

“Drink it.” You watched his hand on his gun. He slid it out just a little. “Ugly things men do when they drinking. “Playing with guns… sometimes don’t always end up so fun. Don’t think the young one would make it in the hold.”

“No, you--”

“Drink,” he sneered. “It’ll loosen you up.”

You reached for the glass and he nodded. He snapped his holster closed and pulled a chair over to sit in front of you. You put your lips to the edge of the glass and the alcohol stung your nostrils. You tipped it, slowly, and tasted it with a gag. It was vile, stringent, and fiery. He pushed it up with two fingers until you were choking on it. He didn’t let up until the glass was empty and the shine dripped down your chin.

You slammed the glass down and coughed. You touched your throat as your head spun and a warmth nestled in your cheeks. You tried to shake away the haze that washed over you.

“That’s it, girl,” he purred as he leaned forward, “You feel better, don’t you?”

“N-no,” you stammered as you gripped the chair.

“’Daddy’,” he said, “Girl, you had me hard in there… you too old to be callin’ that man, daddy.” He stood and shrugged off his leather jacket, “But you be right to call me daddy.”

“I don’t feel…” Your stomach burned and you tried to stand. You stumbled and he caught you.

“Don’t you get all jumpy on me, girl,” he sat you back down. “You gonna hurt yourself.”

You slumped in the chair and braced your head. You felt terribly dizzy and your inside were alight. You heard a jingle and looked up as Bodecker unzipped his pants. You recalled the day in the car and filled with panic. You stood again and this time staggered, falling onto your knees with a cry.

“Mmm, it’s okay, girl, you can stay down there,” You looked up as he pulled his cock out through the vee of his pants, “Come here.” He grabbed your chin and yanked you forward, “Open up.”

You snapped your mouth shut and tried to wriggle free of his grasp. His other hand came up behind your head and he pulled you close. His fingers spread across your head and he used his other hand to poke his cock against your lips.

“I’ll break that pretty little jaw of yours and tell your pa he did it,” he growled, “Now come on.” You shook your head and he slapped you, hard. He seized you again. “Open!”

Your mouth fell open and your vision blurred as he shoved his cock inside. He forced himself down your throat and you kicked your feet as you grabbed at the front of his pants. He groaned and held his cock at its limit.

“And I thought you were good with your hands,” he pulled back and thrust back in. Your eyes rolled back as they teared up and you choked. “Mmm, much better.”

He started slow at first, though each tilt of his hips was relentless, deep and painful. You struggled to breathe around him and it only seemed to feed his lust. He gripped your head between his hand as he fucked your mouth, the sloppy sounds made your head swim as the slobber leaked down your chin and his shaft.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he pulled out of you suddenly and shoved you away. You fell back onto your ass and wiped your mouth. “You tryna end this night early or something.”

He let out a breath and watched his cock bob before him as he grunted.

“Get up and get your drawers off.” He ordered, “Then I want you like you was in the woods, huh? Skirt up.”

You wavered as you tried to climb to your feet. He caught your errant arm and pulled you up. He spun you and you swayed. He bent and his hands crawled up your skirt as he felt around. He ripped your underwear down and let them rest at your ankles. He turned you to the chair and pushed you forward. You fell and caught yourself against the seat. He threw your skirt up and bared your ass.

Your legs quaked as he pressed his hand between your legs and felt around. He rubbed your cunt as you squeezed him with your thighs. He pinched you and drew away.

“You don’t wanna make this harder than it needs to be girl,” he sneered, “You’re in no state for that.”

He stepped closer and bent over you. His arm wrapped around your middle as he felt around below you with his other hand. He caught the tip of his cock and guided it to your cunt. He pushed it along your folds, sliding it up and down until he found your entrance. You whimpered and pushed back against him, too weak to break free.

“You fight and it’ll hurt more,” he grunted as he pushed his tip into you and you yelped. “Fuck, you’re tight.” Another inch and he stopped as he took a breath, “Holy hell, girl, you really weren’t lying. You ain’t been touched.” 

He growled and inhaled the scent of your hair as his hand gripped the chair next to yours. He thrust into you in a single tilt and you exclaimed as he stretched your walls. You reached to the back of the chair and latched onto the crossbar as you tried not to sob.

He stood, slowly and pushed deeper into you as he grabbed your hip. His other hand kneaded your ass as he began to rock. His groans were as steady as his motion as he dipped in and out of you. He curled his fingers and dug his nails into your flesh as he panted, his stomach bouncing against your ass.

“Be as loud as you want, girl,” he barked, “No one gonna hear you.”

He rutted into as the chair shifted below you. He kept a hand on your hip as his other trailed up to your shoulder and he arched your back. His zipper bit into your flesh as he sped up, slapping against you harder and harder as you whined louder and louder. It hurt terribly and your entire being thrummed with an unknown sensation. 

You closed your eyes as your vision swirled and your arms shook. He pulled you back so you stood against him, your back curved as he hammered into you. You were on tiptoes as he didn’t let up and turned you against the table. Your fingertips brushed the top as you reached out blindly and his hand stretched across your neck as he forced your head back against his shoulder.

“I’m gonna cum, girl,” he hissed, “You fucking whore. You’re going to make me cu--”

He grunted and his hips spasmed as a warmth seeped into you. He gave several, final snaps of his hip and slowed. He fell forward with you bent beneath him against the table. Your legs were limp as he crushed you with his weight. His heart pounded through his chest and he gasped for breath. 

You sniffed and pushed back against him. You were suffocating. You needed him off of you. You needed him out of you. 

“We ain’t done yet,” he hooked his arm around you and pulled you back to sit on his lap as he fell into the chair. “You got two minutes to get me hard again or you can clean me up with your mouth.”

[strangerivy]

Through Sickness and Health

Summary: Erwin had you go out on an expedition without Levi and you had gotten caught in the middle of a storm a few days into it. After being stuck in the rain for hours you arrive back at HQ with the flu. Warnings: Swearing | Implied Smut Pairings: Levi Ackerman x Reader (y/n) Genre: 18+ | Fluff Word Count: 3.1k Author’s Note: I hope you guys enjoy! 😊❤

|| Masterlist | AOT Masterlist ||

Year 847 - Spring

This. Was. Miserable. The rain pelleted down as you rode back to the wall, Erwin finally calling the retreat after over 3 hours of the weather not clearing up which was already risky since you would not be able to use your smoke flares to signal the other squads of any titans. Thunder and lightning crackled and boomed over you as the storm worsened each minute, the wind whipping your soaked cloak around so violently that it whipped you in the face a couple of times, a nice red mark forming on your cheek from one of the hits.

You braced yourself as another gust of powerful wind pushed you. You cursed Erwin for making you come out on this mission, your mind thinking about how Levi was probably warm in his office with the fire going probably completely so absorbed in his work that he doesn’t even notice the weather outside. You could only hope he hadn’t noticed knowing he would be worried otherwise.

Despite the weather, you couldn’t say this mission was a complete failure. You had located the group of Titans that were near the south side of the wall and had cleared out the few that hung around the outpost you had stayed at the last two days. Reclaiming it once again. A total of 8 solo kills for yourself to add to your ever-growing number. You finally were able to see Wall Rose coming into view and you had to force yourself to not go faster and break formation. You were cold, tired, and sore. You were more than ready to crawl into your bed to sleep for the next week if they would let you.

You passed a couple of abandoned homes as you got closer to the wall, nature starting to take over once again now that no one lived within Wall Maria. Almost two years have passed since that day and things were just now starting to feel normal, as normal as living in a world with man-eating giants could be that is.

You could hear the bells signaling your arrival as you got close to the gate.  You sat up straighter as you walked through the city putting on a brave face for the people that still held fear in their eyes knowing that the Colossal titan could return at any moment. You wished you could help ease that fear even if it was just a small fraction. The rest of the ride was smooth now that you were within the safety of Wall Rose.

You handed your horse off to the stable hand but not before giving her some much need pets for a job well done making a mental note to bring her some apples, a tradition of your own after each mission. Your boots made a gross sloshing sound with each step from the water that had soaked into your socks. Levi was going to be so mad about you not taking them off before coming inside but your body was so tired you weren’t even sure you were able to get them off by yourself at this point. You stopped in front of Hange’s door knocking on it, a muffled ‘come in’ sounding through the door.

You opened it to see her slouched over her desk looking up with a big smile on her face when she saw it was you, an excited ‘Ooo’ noise coming out of her lips as she reached out with grabby hands. You pulled out the small notebook putting it in her palm as you turned around to leave.

“That’s all the notes I could manage to take this time,” You mumbled as you headed for the door with a wave of your hand.

“You are incredible, you know that!” She beamed as you walked out shutting the door behind you. You dragged your feet down the hall until you stood in front of your shared quarters with Levi, you paused staring down at your soaked muddy boots trying to see if there was a way for you to get them off without having to bend over or sit down. You stood there for a few more minutes still running through options in your head when the door opened suddenly showing and annoyed Levi his eyes narrowing as he looked you up and down.

“You look like shit.” You narrowed your eyes at him as you let out a sneeze as if on cue. He grimaced brows scrunched in disgust but still opened the door further for you to enter, you heard him grumble about your shoes as you went to take a seat on the chair by the fire as he shut the door behind you. He let out a sigh as he kneeled helping you get out of your soaked boots placing them by the fire to dry. He leaned in placing a small kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll go run you a bath,” He told you softly, you nodded your head as he walked through your bedroom to the attached bath. Your head lulled to the side as you stared at the fire your eyes fighting to stay open. You let out a deep sigh as the fire slowly started to warm your body, your joints starting to ache as they began relaxing. Levi came back giving your arm a gentle shake to make sure you were still awake before helping you back up and to the bathroom.

You let out a sigh when the hot water hit your body your muscles beginning to relax almost instantly. Levi helped you wash your hair and body as you fought to stay awake letting out a fit of coughs making him raise a brow in question. Once you were cleaned of the expedition Levi helped you out and you dried yourself off, putting on some clean sleepwear before he guided you to the bed. You sniffled, your nose feeling congested as he tucked you into the warm blankets. He gave another concerned look before going and putting out the candles the room falling into comfortable darkness the only sound from the fireplace and his feet shuffling around until he made it to the bed crawling in behind you.

You rolled over and he pulled you closer to him so that you could rest your head on his chest listening to the soft beat of his heart and feel the soft rise and fall of his breaths.

“I was worried,” He whispered playing with ends of your hair working out any knots he came across.

“I promised I would always come back,” You titled your head to look up at him with a soft smile before another fit of coughs caused you to roll away to avoid coughing on him. Once you were done, he pulled you into him kissing the back of your head. You were sick there was no doubt. You silently cursed Erwin again as you sniffled not being able to breathe through your nose.

“Get some sleep,” Levi whispered softly turning to blow out the candle on the nightstand, the only light coming from the fireplace. You let out a comfortable sigh as you slipped deeper into the mattress letting the night take you into a deep sleep.

“I wouldn’t worry too much Levi,” You faintly heard Hange’s voice as you came to, the light of the sun shining down on your face the soft sounds of birds singing outside your window. You kept your eyes shut as you slowly adjusted to the light.

“It’s been two days, Hange” Levi’s worried voice came from the other room, your eye blinked open as you listened trying to remain quiet. You noticed your nose was now clear a small sense of relief went through you with that, hating the stuffy feeling. Even though you had just woken up your body was still tired and if you really wanted you could probably fall right back asleep.

“There are few others from that expedition down with the flu as well, y/n is only human. She’ll recover.” Hange reassured Levi and that piqued your interest, how long were you asleep for? Your throat began to itch from the dryness, and you let out a round of coughs catching the attention of the other two. Levi was first to walk in going and grabbing a glass he had placed on the nightstand next to you handing it to you as he helped sit you up. You took a couple of gulps sighing as the cool liquid eased the soreness of your throat.

Levi took the glass back from you, setting it back down before feeling your forehead with the back of his hand, looking at you with concerned eyes but then a small hint of relief flashed through them.

“Your fever has gone down a bit,” He stated with a soft smile as he leaned in to place a kiss on your forehead, you let out a few small coughs using the back of your hand to cover your mouth from spreading the germs.

“Glad to see you rise from the dead, another day or two and shortie over there probably would have had assembled the best doctors from Sina to treat you,” Hange joked leaned up against the bedroom door frame with a smirk as Levi quickly shot a glare at them,

“Don’t you have some titan to torture?” He spat and she let out a loud chuckle before she stood up with a wave as she left.

“I’m happy you’re okay, y/n” She shouted before you heard the office door shut leaving just Levi and you now

“How-” another cough “How long was I out?” You asked your voice coming out hoarse from lack of use and from being sick no doubt.

“Two days,” He answered going to reach for the water but you shook your hand signaling you didn’t need it. He grabbed it anyway and you let out a sigh taking it from him finishing it off.

“You don’t need to baby me,” You whined handing him the empty glass, He clicked his tongue.

“You’ve been out for two days, you need water,” He said setting the glass back on the nightstand. You laid back on the pillows closing your eyes once again ready to drift back off to sleep.

“Tch! You need to eat before you fall back into a coma,” He stated giving you’re a little shake causing you to let out a small groan as you fluttered your eyes back open with a small glare and pout. He smiled down at you pushing your hair out of your face.

“Let me sleep Levi,” You whined again, going to roll over away from him, but he was quick to snake an arm around your waist preventing you from rolling away.

“I’ll get you a bath going before I go get us some food, hmm?” He offered, you let out a defeated sigh giving a small nod and he helped you sit up, your legs felt weak from the lack of movement. He left to the bathroom to get the bath ready. You stretched out your limbs trying to wake them up. You slowly made your way to standing trying to make sure you wouldn’t collapse to the floor, that was the last thing you need with Levi being as attentive as he was. It had been a while since you’d been sick but the last time you remember him being just like this except your cold was much worse being in the underground.

You slowly dragged your feet across the floor making your way into the bathroom to be greeted with the warm steam the tub had filled the room with the faint scent of lavender in the air. Levi noticed you walk in and was quick to your side helping you to the tub which you couldn’t help but chuckle softly to yourself shaking your head.

“Levi, I’m not made of glass,” You smirked as he helped you undress. He rolled his eyes at your comment before helping you get into the tub, you sighed once you were all the way in resting your head against the edge. Levi gave you a kiss on the head before leaving to get your food. You honestly could fall asleep with how warm the water was, but you knew how badly that could end and Levi would scold you about how it was dangerous.

You washed your body and hair by the time he got back you were already out, lying back in your bed with fresh sleep clothes on. You coughed a few times as he sat down next to you a bowl of soup in his hands as he waited for you to finish coughing. You set the bowl in your lap careful not to tip it and get it all over the bed as you slowly ate, you weren’t very hungry, but you knew Levi wouldn’t let you go back to sleep without at least getting something in your system.

Once you were finished, he took your bowls setting them on the side table as he helped tuck you back into bed. You smiled softly as you watched him tuck the blankets into your side. He glanced up at you with a curious gaze.

“What?” He asked sounding annoyed, but the small smile gave him away, you hummed shaking your head.

“Just thinking how I should get sick more often, this is nice,” You murmured, nuzzling into the blankets, you were finding it to be more and more difficult to keep your eyes open. Levi clicked his tongue at your comment and went to reply but when he looked up, he saw you had already fallen back asleep soft snores coming from you.

It took another two days for you to start feeling well enough to start working again. Levi was persistent to still wait another day, but you couldn’t lay in the bed for another day sneaking out of the room while Levi was in a meeting with Erwin to go train with Hange.

Both of you had sweat dripping from your heads and you were both breathing heavily going back and forth on hand-to-hand combat. You knew you wouldn’t be able to go for much longer feeling the effects of having been in a bed for four days to take its toll. You would need to rebuild your stamina again.

“So how did you get Levi to let you train?” Hange asked going for an attack that you were quick to dodge easily countering and tossing her on the ground with a huff. You offered her your hand which she gladly took.

“Well,” You rubbed the back of your neck a little embarrassed, “I kind of snuck out,” Hange looked at you with a blank face before bursting out laughing.

“You- you had to sneak out of your own room?” She chuckled as you walked to the bench on the edge of the training ground. You let out a sigh taking the towel she offered you wiping the sweat from your forehead and neck.

“It's not funny Hange!” You groaned plopping down on the bench with a huff,

“I mean it’s not surprising if you think about it. Remember how hard it was to get him to let you back when you broke your ankle?” She pointed out and you let out a knowing hum. You had to get Erwin involved then, but you couldn’t blame him too much then. You had just lost Isabel and Furlan then. But this was different.

“I’m honestly surprised he hasn’t noticed yet, I didn’t think their meeting would go this long,” You laid back on the bench one leg bent resting on the bench the other dangling. The spring afternoon sun shining down on the both of you. It felt nice to get some fresh air.

“Mmm, I think you may have spoken too soon my dear,” You lifted your head to see her pointing towards HQ and there was a familiar black head of hair walking, very angrily, towards you. You could feel the annoyance radiating off him from where you rested. You snorted unaffected by his intimidating stature, laying your head back down waiting for him to get to you.

“Oi! Y/N! What the hell are you doing out here?” He scolded when he got close enough to where he knew you would be able to hear him. You smirked and Hange snorted tapping your foot.

“I’ll see you at dinner,” She said before leaving in the opposite way Levi was coming. You patiently waited for him to get to you hearing his feet hit the grass with each step before they stopped right next to your head his shadow blocking the warm sun from hitting you. You opened your eyes with an innocent smile as you looked up at him.

He had his arms crossed and was glaring down at you tapping his finger annoyedly on his arm.

“I thought we agreed you would rest another day?” He asked as you sat up. You let out a small snort as you stood up stretching your arms.

“I don’t remember this,” You couldn’t hide the smirk as you both started to head back inside. Levi scoffed with a shake of his head.

“Of course you don’t,” He was annoyed but you could see the small twitch of his lip that showed he wasn’t too annoyed with you. He opened the door holding it open for you to enter letting it close behind you as you both walked down the hall in comfortable silence.

When you got back to the room you went into your bedroom starting to take off your straps and you heard the scratch of a desk chair across the floor. Once you had the straps off and your boots you went into the bathroom starting the shower when you had an idea on how to cheer him up.

“I’m going to shower,” You shouted loud enough for him to hear you, you waited a few more moments a playful smile on your lips. “Since I’m feeling better, I thought you could join me?” You heard the chair move again instantly and quick footsteps heading towards you.

You yelped with some giggles as he slammed his lips to yours when he got to you, his fingers quickly working the buttons of your shirt as he pushed you back towards the shower. You smiled against his lips your fingers moving to his straps to help him out of them.

His straps fell to the ground the belts clinking against the floor as they hit. Then it was your shirt and his and soon you were both bare as he guided you into the shower. A soft moan leaving your lips as he kissed the spot just below your ear, a smirk on his lips.

Levi may be a pain whenever you were injured or sick, but it was only because he cared, it was his way of showing he loved you. Besides, you couldn’t complain about what always came after.

[jinmukangwrites]

Gifts

Read on AO3

Prompt

Summary: Wild tells of the gifts the past Champions have given him. All that's left is for the others to witness these gifts.

Warnings: Descriptions of injury, temporary character death.

Notes: Finally got a prompt done. Y'all proud of me? If you are, then know I wrote this instead of Chapter 2 of Succumb because I'm an awful creature who has a solid idea for the entire fic except Chapter 2 and I'm avoiding it. Stop being proud of me now.

---

“How about you, Champ?”

Wild blinks from the daze he's fallen into and looks up to see eight pairs of eyes all looking right at him. The moon hangs lazily above them, nothing more than a C-shape tied to the stars to watch them all talk themselves to sleep. Wild’s zoned out of this one, for reasons he can’t really explain why. It’s not that what they’re talking about tonight is particularly dull or offensive. It’s just… well… they’re talking about magic and discussing the common theme that seems most sources of magic that they know has been given to them.

Time and Great Fairies. Hyrule and wise men in caves. Wild’s sure the others all have similar stories, he’s just decided to not listen to them tonight.

“About me?” He asks hopefully. Maybe they have changed topics while he was trying to decide what the woodchip by his boot resembles.

Four leans forward on his knees, wiggling his eyebrows. “Any magical gifts that you’ve been holding out on us?”

Wild tries not to let his disappointment show on his face. “Ah.” He curls his fingers around the hem of his tunic before they could nervously knit with each other on his lap. “Nothing that’s important.”

Besides him, Twilight scoffs. “Nothing that’s important? Cub, either you really are holding out on us or you’re being humble.”

“Wild? Humble?” Warriors snorts. “Perish the thought.”

Wild sighs. “Really, I don’t have any cool stories to tell tonight. I’d much rather listen to you all.”

“Listen, huh?” Four challenges, grinning like an imp. “Who taught Hyrule how to shoot fire from his sword?”

Wild rolls his eyes. “Some old guy in a cave.”

“Actually,” Hyrule says with a soft, apologetic smile, “it was an old man in a basement.”

“What is up with you and old men?”

“Anyway,” Twilight says, giving Wild a hard look, “you’re obviously not listening. Is something wrong? You’re usually more talkative.”

Does Twilight have to be a doting old mother in front of everyone? Wild can feel himself bristling. “Maybe I just don’t feel like talking tonight. Vet isn’t talking and you’re not pestering him.”

“That’s because Vet never talks about himself,” Warriors says, foiling Wild’s entire argument. Legend has a smug look on his face. “Not unless he’s trying to heighten his own ego.” Legend’s smug look falls into a glare.

“Fine,” Legend says. “I’ll tell one. Then Champ can tell one, so that you all will get off both of our backs.”

“It has to be serious, Leg,” Wind butts in, completely oblivious to Wild’s dying hope of getting out of this conversation. “No ‘I got my magic from being super cooler than everyone else’ bull.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Legend snaps. “Besides, I don’t have magic. I have magical items. Which is just as useful.”

“Then what’s that one?” Sky points at the small clay ocarina in Legend’s hands. “You’ve been holding it all night.”

Legend stills and his face softens, and immediately the whole group can tell that whatever that ocarina is, Legend has feelings attached to it. He takes a deep breath. “It’s not very magic,” he says, his fingers rubbing over the holes reverently. “It used to be able to summon a gust of wind to take me wherever I needed to go. It could also awaken the dead under specific circumstances… now it’s nothing but clay. It doesn’t work anymore.”

“Where’d you get it?” Wind asked, and not unkindly. He, like the rest of the group, knows that Legend wouldn’t be holding an item so tenderly if it only didn’t work anymore.

Legend stays silent for a moment, allowing the crickets in the forests to sing uninterrupted. Then, his shoulders fall. “The most beautiful woman I ever met gave it to me. She had the most lovely voice. This… after… after I lost her, I woke up stranded at sea. It was around my neck on a string… it’s all the proof I have that she ever existed.”

Silence hangs over the group like a heavy blanket. Wild can’t help but feel a lob of guilt get stuck in his chest. All he can do is sit and watch Sky lean over and place a hand on Legend’s knee.

“Love is one of the most powerful magics an item can hold, even if it’s just a good memory.”

Legend brings a sleeve to his eye, holding the ocarina tightly with his other hand. “Oh shut it, you sap,” he says through a smile. Sky smiles back, and Wild curls his arms across his chest.

Besides him, Twilight looks at him. Not expectantly, though, but with understanding. Perhaps he knows now why sometimes someone would wish to stay silent during these kinds of nights. Not everyone got magical gifts from old men in caves. Or basements.

But the guilt sits, and no one is saying it’s Wild’s turn to spill some beans. Not even Legend. But how could he stay silent after Legend told something so personal and sad? It’s not fair, even if he’s the only one who thinks so.

He bites the arrow and takes a breath.

“I don’t have magic. I have… blessings. From friends I had before the Calamity.”

For the second time that night, eight pairs of eyes fall onto him.

“I don’t use them much anymore,” Wild continues; somehow his hands have made it to his lap anyways, knitting his fingers together like string on needles, “they gave me everything they had so I could defeat Calamity Ganon. Now that he’s gone, I don’t want to abuse their gifts any longer.”

“I don’t mean to pry…” Four says, “but maybe they gave you everything they had to help you. Maybe they didn’t consider it abuse.”

And somehow, Wild doesn’t feel like Four is prying at all. In fact, it startles a chuckle out of him. “Maybe. But not Revali, that’s for sure. He and I got along worse than Vet and Cap.”

“Not an easy feat,” Warriors says to the others while nudging Legend with his elbow. Legend rolls his eyes. “I’m impressed.”

“What blessing did he give you?” Wild asks. There’s stars in his eyes that always get there when he gets too interested in a story. Though, Wild supposes any story involving a rival-ship greater than their very own Legend and Warriors is something to be interested in.

“It was the power to call upon the gusts of wind he used to command with his powerful wings. He was a Rito, the best there ever was. He could fly into the air without having to jump off of ledges. The wind would carry him up itself, like it belonged to him.”

-o-o-o-o-

Agony is a poison pulsing through Hyrule’s leg. The fall had been great, and it’s a miracle Wild had been there to dive down and at least try to lesson the fall with his paraglider. The ground was weak in these desert-y canyons, and maybe Hyrule shouldn’t have gotten so close to the ledge to warrant his boot’s slipping, but at least Wild was there.

Hyrule’s ankle is broken, or at least badly sprained. Either way, it’s painful enough that he can’t even stand up as Wild paces the bottom of the crevasse they have found themselves in like a pair of cornered animals. The others… they’re close to an hour’s worth of time away. He and Wild were exploring and gathering whatever they could find that might be used as firewood as the sun began to set. It’s been a terribly awful day of traveling in the desert heat, and he and Wild were excited to experience the sunset’s breeze while the others set up camp.

They got too excited. Too far away. There’s no way anyone will hear them if they call. No one will come looking until the sky is black.

And who knows, maybe they won't consider that maybe they fell. Maybe, if they come looking, they won't look down the right scar in the land, and they will burn to death in tomorrow's sun.

“What do we do?” Hyrule asks through an embarrassingly choked voice. He’s been fighting tears since the moment his ankle bent wrongly in their crash landing. He knows Wild will not judge him for sobs, but it doesn’t make it any easier for him to allow any to escape.

Wild sighs and glares up at the lip of the cliff they’ve fallen from. “Any trinkets?” he asks back.

Hyrule bites his lip. He wishes he were like the others and had a trinket for every situation. Legend had promised to give him an old grappling hook he had hoarded away the next time they end up at his and Ravio’s place. “No.”

“Okay,” Wild says. Not angrily. “Okay.”

Determined?

“Champ?”

Wild takes a deep breath and looks down at Hyrule with… fire in his eyes. “I won’t be long. Will you be okay while I fetch the others?”

Hyrule licks his lips and looks down at his leg, already braced with brush twigs and the wrappings that usually decorate Wild’s arms. A cold breeze blows suddenly, making Hyrule shiver and remember the desert only takes what it’s given when it comes to heat. When the sun’s up, it thrives, and when it’s gone…

“Don’t take long,” he replies, even though he doesn’t really know what Wild’s about to do.

Wild nods, shrugging off the cloak he usually always wears and gives it to Hyrule. Hyrule nods his thanks and takes the warm accessory, placing it over his head and wrapping the caped section around his shoulders.

He watches as Wild walks towards the edge of the cliff facing where the others are with camp. Hyrule wonders what he’s about to do as he clings to the edge of the cloak. Wild unfolds his paraglider from his back, baffling Hyrule even more, and widens his stance.

A moment passes. Then another.

Then a gust of wind appears seemingly out from the floor, powerful enough to blow dust back and almost get in Hyrule’s eye if he hadn’t instinctively covered his eyes. There’s a flash of teal through his fingers… then an unfamiliar voice snorts.

“About time, runt.”

By the time Hyrule deems it safe enough to uncover his eyes without getting dust in them, Wild is already high in the air. The miracle gust of wind cyclones in the spot his friend used to be, growing weaker and weaker by the second before it’s gone completely. There’s no sign of whoever made that flash of teal… nor who spoke, but Hyrule doesn’t think too into it as Wild drops his paraglider and grabs onto the upper ledge of the cliff.

Far above him, Wild climbs to safety and looks over the edge. He waves, and Hyrule cannot help the giggle that climbs through his throat as he waves back.

Pain in his ankle be damned, whatever Wild just did was cool, and as Wild turns and runs towards the others he knows he won't be in pain for long.

Not much longer than an hour passes before the others come with their ropes and grappling hooks and worried voices. Wild glides down to him to help carry him up. There’s something about the way he stands that gives Hyrule the feeling that he… realized something today. He gives Hyrule a bottle of health, then helps tie a rope around his waist as his ankle begins to hurt a little less.

As he’s lifted off the ground towards the top of the cliff by his friends, he looks at Wild who is clinging tight to Hyrule’s body like a stronger lifeline than any rope or chain.

“Was that Revali?” He asks, without really thinking.

Wild looks at him with wide eyes, and then a wider smile. “Yeah.”

Hyrule smiles back. “He sounded like an asshole.”

A startled laugh bursts from Wild’s mouth as he throws his head back. “He is an asshole,” he agrees in good nature.

They reach the top. They reach the others. Twilight scolds their ears off the entire way back towards camp, and Hyrule can't stop grinning for his own safety… and for whatever mended in Wild’s heart tonight.

-o-o-o-o-

“What about the others?”

“Well… ah… there’s Daruk. He was one of my oldest friends. The strongest Goron there ever was, though he was a little fearful of dogs.” Wild laughs, as do the others politely; probably imagining the biggest Goron they could be scared of a small fluffy animal. “He had the strength to block anything, and he was always ready to take a blow for the team. Even after… even after… he still protected me. He gave me the ability to call upon even a fraction of that power, that way nothing could hurt me in case my own shield failed. Without him… I would not be here, I’m confident in that.”

-o-o-o-o-

They honestly should have expected an ambush before Warriors was the one to call it out. Four likes to consider himself lucky for coming from a comparatively peaceful time, relatively speaking, but even he should have expected the top of the hill to be lined with determined monsters with big rocks.

The first few moments of watching the boulders come down feels almost like Four is stuck in time. There’s nowhere to run, the expanse of the monsters at the top is too great. Left or right would bring more chances of being hit. They can’t run back down the hill and outrun the danger either. Their only option is to dodge through the rocks until they can get to the top and take out the danger.

Distantly, as time spreads up, Four is aware of Time and Wild each releasing arrows towards the top of the hill, igniting various monsters on fire, but soon it becomes pure chaos. He can only focus on himself as he does his best to jump out of the way of rocks that are much bigger than him. The colors in his brain scream as he tries to remain calm and collected. No Blue, he can’t just jump over the boulders because it will look cool. Red please calm down you’re screaming too loudly. He knows to go left, Green!

It’s a miracle he’s managed to last this long with the confusion. Which is why he’s not surprised when something finally hits its mark. He’s just glad that when the agony of a shattered bone shoots through his body, it’s only his right shoulder that took the brunt of the hit.

Not that he has time to be thankful for that. After the boulder hits into his side, his balance is knocked right out of him. He ends up crashing to the tilted floor in a jumble of limbs and dust. There’s tears in his eyes, and he can barely focus enough to lift himself back up. His entire arm feels like he’s stuck it into the mouth of a dragon—teeth and all. His chest feels tight and his hip all bruised. He wouldn’t be surprised if he’s broken a few ribs as well.

He barely has enough time to look ahead of him from where he lies on the ground. There’s another boulder bouncing right towards him. If… if he doesn’t move now… he will surely die.

But he cannot move. He cannot move because his entire side hurts too badly for him to go at a speed that matters. He closes his eyes and tries to make himself smaller. Maybe, if the goddess decides she likes him today, she will allow the boulder to bounce over him… or something as unlikely.

Either way, he accepts whatever fate he’s about to meet, even as he hears Sky scream his name.

And maybe it’s because he’s a coward and he’s scared, but he opens his eyes to look at his approaching doom. Only… that’s not all that he sees. What he sees is Wild jump out right in front of him with a ball of orange energy surrounding his entire body. A surge of horror swells inside of his belly the moment he sees this. Is Wild serious?!

Then, a heartbeat passes, and the boulder rams right into Wild. What happens next, though, Four would never have guessed. The orange energy explodes in shatters around him. Standing over Wild, however, is a ghostly Goron that’s bigger than anything Four’s ever seen. He shouts as the boulder stops in its tracks, crumbling before his mighty fists.

“I got you, little buddy,” Daruk’s spirit says. Then, the teal spirit disappears with the orange energy, leaving Wild standing there with the shattered remains of the boulder at his feet. Up the hill, Warriors, Legend, Time, and Sky take out the remaining monsters before they can release any more rocks.

Wild turns towards Four with a crazed, adrenaline fueled gaze. There’s a grin on his face though, one that Four finds himself matching.

Next thing he knows, Twilight, Hyrule, and Wild are rushing to his form and shoving various medicine bottles into his face; of which he takes gratefully.

“Thank you, Wild,” Four makes sure to say once he’s finally back on his feet with a makeshift sling over his only slightly aching arm. Wild turns towards him to give a blushing smile. He rubs the back of his neck with his hand.

“I couldn’t just watch you die. It’s the least I could do.”

Four hums. “I’m still thankful. Though… your Goron friend looked big enough to squish me between his fingers.”

Wild grins. “Daruk wouldn’t do that. It’s his hugs you have to watch out for.”

Four’s sure that if Daruk’s hugs are anything like Wild’s, then those hugs would be very tight indeed.

“I will take your word for it, then.”

-o-o-o-o-

“And then there’s Urbosa. She… if you think you’ve met a scary Gerudo, then you haven’t met her.” Wild waves his hands in the air, only slightly aware that he’s getting too invested in this story now. He didn't mean to spill his guts on his past friends tonight, but here he is, living their memory. Passing on their stories to his new friends. He finds he doesn’t mind it as much as he did several minutes ago. He doesn’t know why he was afraid. “She was the leader of her people, and she could summon lightning onto anyone who's ever defied her. She fought armies of Yiga all on her own and came out without a scratch. She’s blessed me with the ability to summon lighting as well. It’s my most powerful attack, and it’s saved my ass more times than I can count.”

-o-o-o-o-

This is bad. Very bad. Time can’t even properly express how bad this is.

An ambush of monsters? That’s manageable. He has confidence in himself and his companions to be able to handle a meager ambush. However, this? This is a whole army of monsters. Lizalfos, apparently, like to group up in camps when they’re not scrambling around in ancient dungeons and temples.

There’s enough to outnumber the heroes five-to-one. It’s not impossible to take them down if they had stuck to the outer edges of the camp and took a good portion of them out with long ranged attacks… however what happened was much less graceful. They walked into the forest, intending to make a camp for the night, just to wander right into a community of Lizalfos armed to the tails.

So now? They’re running; the monsters in an excited chase. Like Time said: This. Is. Bad.

“We lead them to the river,” Warriors suggests, ever thinking of solutions. “We can push them in and weaken their numbers.”

“I say we turn and fight!” Wind shouts. He looks too excited. He pulls a bomb out from his satchel and before Time can say anything, the boy turns around and throws it at their pursuers. There’s a blast, a few screeches, but nothing significant happens. The numbers are too great. Wind is pulling out another bomb.

“The river,” Time says, nodding at Warriors. Wind cheers as another explosion erupts. He leaves the boy to it. As long as he keeps up. “It’s the best bet.”

Time turns his head to tell the others about the makeshift plan, but before he can say a thing Wild looks him straight in the eye. “Have everyone get as far as you can away, I know what to do.”

“What?” Time asks, baffled.

Wild doesn’t explain. He just turns heel and runs the other way towards the enemy.

“Cub?!” Twilight shouts, turning around as well to grab his wayward protégé, but Time grabs his shoulder and keeps him running in the opposite direction. Twilight gives him a panicked look.

“I don’t know what he plans,” Time explains, “but he seems confident. Trust him.”

Twilight swallows and nods. Time shouts at the others to pick up the pace.

Behind him, the Lizalfos screech in delight, a sign they and Wild have now met face-to-face.

Whatever you’re about to do, wild one, do it now.

He doesn’t have to wait long. The smell of ozone becomes intoxicating all within a heartbeat. The hairs at the back of his neck rise as the sky goes impossibly dark for the time of dusk that it is. Then, light flashes all around him in thunderous claps. He can barely hear the sound of screaming monsters over the bolts. Time can’t help but stop in his tracks and turn, lifting a hand above his brow to see green lighting like he’s never seen before attacking the earth through the trees.

As soon as it begins, it ends, and the sky brightens with silence.

Time doesn’t waste time running forward. What he finds when he runs towards the small clearing Wild had met the monsters in is something he will never forget. Static energy seems to curl around his hand, raised into the air and on the end of a snap. Beside him stands a tall Gerudo woman, cloaked in a ghostly aura, her back towards the others and her hand on Wild’s shoulder in triumph and fierce protection. There’s nothing but black, charred corpses of monsters around them.

Time watches, as do the others, transfixed as Urbosa looks down at Wild and smirks.

“You should have called earlier, my desert flower.”

-o-o-o-o-

Everyone looks so transfixed, that Wild almost moves on without really thinking about it. Only… the words catch in his throat. He finishes telling of Urbosa, and just… freezes. His hands are back in his lap, wringing each other out.

He was so engrossed with his own stories that he’s forgotten that while he loves each of his past friends equally… not all are so easy to talk about.

The others must sense his inner struggle, as none of them call out his sudden silence. He knows that if he decided to stop now and not tell them of his last blessing… they would not argue. They must know this pause is similar to when Twilight stops talking about his adventure when he reaches the point where he meets a mysterious companion. Similar to when Time pauses in his magical tales of his childhood. Similar to when Sky looks off in the distance with his voice trailing off as he tells of special places in the sky.

It’s a pause of loss. A pause of something cherished. A pause of something that you fought so hard for, but will never come back.

A hand falls on top of his own. He recognizes the shape of Twilight’s calluses without having to look up at him. “You do not have to force yourself to continue,” he says.

Wild shakes his head. “I’m alright. I can continue…”

A beat of silence. Wild takes a breath.

“Last is… Mipha. Not only was she the most beautiful Zora I’ve ever met, but also the most beautiful soul. She… would always be there for me… whenever I got hurt. She could heal my wounds better than any potion. I…” his throat bobs, the words are no longer coming. “I cannot bring myself to tell of her gift. It’s too special. I pray I never have to use it again, nor must any of you witness it.”

-o-o-o-o-

Twilight didn’t know what to think when the attack had begun. It didn’t start with a shout. It didn’t start with the enemy running screaming out from the shadows of the trees with swords raised. It didn’t start like any kind of monster attack that Twilight had grown so used to.

It’s probably why they were unprepared for an attack by something smarter than monsters. Something that has no problem sitting quietly in the trees, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He’s heard that there’s a group of former Sheikah in Wild’s world who have it in for the hero’s life, he just never really expected to meet them.

That’s probably why the arrow met it’s mark too. They’ve all grown accustomed to the sloppy ambushes put together by monsters. It’s the only thing Twilight can think of to justify how none of them saw it coming until there was a thwip of a feathered arrow flying through the air… and landing with a thunk in Wild’s stomach.

Wild fell to the ground, and with a flash of cards and light appeared several Yiga Clan members. Nobody stopped to stare. It was pure rage from the heroes at that point, and as soon as it began the Clan members all put their hands together and retreated into seemingly thin air. It all ended about as soon as it began.

And the only thing he could think about now is Wild laying there on the ground in a growing pool of his own blood. The arrow still sticks out of his midsection, undoubtedly having hit something important judging by the trail of red going down the corners of his mouth.

Twilight is the first to run up to his side, but thanks to the quick thinking of Warriors, he’s not the first to offer a way of healing.

However, by the time the bottle of the red potion reaches his life stained lips… it’s too late. Twilight can only stare in horror as the light leaves Wild’s eyes.

The Yiga Clan… they’ve succeeded… and everyone knows it when Warriors falls backwards in defeat to sit on his heels, looking down at the full bottle of healing in his hands. Sky falls to his knees. Hyrule chokes a cry. Twilight's sure the rest of them are feeling their own reactions of grief, but he can no longer pay attention to anything but his own.

He’s… he’s failed. The one person he swore he would protect… pass on his ways… his stories… his teachings… it’s all for nothing. All it is now is a gaping hole in his heart. His cheeks are wet with tears that came too quickly.

Suddenly, something happens. There’s a flash of teal, and somewhere behind him someone gasps. Twilight can only watch with wide, tear-drowned eyes, as the teal swirls around into the glowing form of a beautiful Zora.

All eyes are on her, but hers are on Wild. There’s a fondness to her face that could be mistaken for sadness. Her hand brushes his cheek, and to Twilight's surprise Wild blinks and breathes in a soft breath. The hole in his stomach glows bright blue… and the arrow dissipates in shining bubbles.

“I will always heal you when you need me, my love.”

Then, she’s gone before anyone, including Wild, can respond.

Wild slowly raises himself to his elbows, blinking and smiling sheepishly like he’s never gotten even a scratch.

“I’m sorry you all had to-” he begins, but Twilight cuts him off by launching himself forward and wrapping the idiot in his arms. Mipha’s gift, the one he wouldn’t tell them about because it was too special, the one he never wanted them to witness…

He’s such an idiot.

“Shut up,” Twilight says through a tight breath. “Thank the spirits… just let me hold you.”

Wild doesn’t say anything, he just returns the embrace and the hold just as tightly.

Thank Hylia and all of the goddesses for this miracle. Wild clearly has friends that care so much about him that they would protect him fiercely even after their deaths. Twilight knows that from now on, he will spend his nights praying thankfulness to them. Wild is a formidable hero, one of the best in fact, yet Twilight can only imagine where he would be without these gifts. Imagining it makes his gut twist, however, so he squeezes his hold just once before letting go.

He smiles at the younger boy, and Wild smiles back, everything that needs to be said being translated there alone. You scared me. I’m sorry. Don’t apologize, just be more careful. No promises… but I will try.

The wordless conversation passes between them in a moment, and the moment is broken by Wind pouncing onto Wild. Wild, the poor boy, is shoved straight onto his back from the force of the tackle, yet he’s laughing as Wind calls him an idiot over and over. Everyone else gathers as well, to tell him they’re glad he’s alive in their own ways. Time places a hand on Twilight’s shoulder and shares a knowing look.

“Let’s set up camp early tonight,” he says, and Twilight cannot help but agree.

As Time announces the plan to the others, separating the others and telling them to give Wild some space, Twilight lets his heart calm. Wild always says he was alone in his adventures, but now he knows that that wasn’t all true. He also knows now why Wild doesn’t abuse the abilities his friends gave him.

With a silent vow, he promises Revali, Daruk, Urbosa, and Mipha that he will work harder to protect their boy. For now, Wild has been barred from making dinner tonight, and Twilight has to be sure that Hyrule gets nowhere near the cooking pot.

[vanserraseris]

END OF PART XV - Ok, so that is the final part (there will be an epilogue, but this is pretty much the end). Eris is not doing too well, just a warning that there is mentions of blood. Thank you to everyone who reads.

OH MY GOD IM SO SORRY I TOOK FOREVER TO GET THIS UP. and omgggg im so sad this is ending soon

Prince of Ashes. Part XV.

Eris jolted awake, lurching to a sitting position, nearly falling out of his bed as he tried to calm his breathing. It took him a moment to recognize that he was in his old rooms at The Forest House, not his cottage.

“Not real,” Eris spoke into his empty room, his eyes clenched shut, “Not real.” Eris hadn’t seen his brothers die, and it was on nights like these when he wished he had, if only to know that the dreams weren’t real.

In his dreams, his worst nightmares, Cato and Owain would beg Eris to save them and all he could do was watch as they met their end. The Mother must truly hate him, Eris thought, to torment him like that in his sleep.

Eris fisted his hands in the sheets, hating the quiet of the room and quickly lighting a fire only to fill the horrible silence. The flames danced, tiny embers popping off the logs and falling to the dark wood outside the fireplace. His room was still too quiet.

Eris took a deep breath as he tried to settle his nerves and almost tripped as he hurtled for the bathroom. Eris fell to his knees in front of the toilet, bracing himself over the porcelain bowl as he retched, glad that he’d once again forgotten to eat dinner as he coughed over and over again. Each time Eris took a breath, he could smell the blood on his hands. Owain had laughed at him once decades ago, claiming that Eris had a better nose than his hounds.

Eris curled his hands into fists at the memory, not wanting to think about his brother. Eris, upon his fathers orders, had spent the last two days torturing a rebel group that had formed a steady following in the past ten years. The smell of their blood, clinging to the pale skin of Eris’s knuckles and getting stuck under his nails, was making him dizzy.

He tried not to think about how much it bothered him to do those sorts of things, but at night, as soon as his head hit his pillows, his mind wouldn’t stop reeling. He could practically hear his father’s voice, knowing he’d call him weak, knowing his father would call him a horrible heir. His father’s voice often battled with that of his mother’s. Eris growled, pushing himself up off the floor, the iron scent of faerie blood lingering in his nostrils as he stumbled to the sink.

He reached for the bar of soap on the counter, trying again to wash the smell of blood from his hands. The honeysuckle scented soap did nothing but mask the smell of the blood, and he knew that he could wash them a hundred times that night and it still wouldn’t make anything better. Eris had washed his hands raw before he’d fallen onto his bed, completely exhausted. He hadn’t even bothered changing into sleeping clothes, had merely kicked off his boots and thrown his jacket onto a chair.

The smell of the blood was stronger as Eris splashed cool water onto his face and he fought his urge to gag once more.

Eris walked back into his bedroom, drying his hands with a small towel, but he paused when he saw his reflection in the mirror. Eris inched closer, dropping the towel onto the dresser, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt as he placed the palms of his hands on the smooth wooden surface. There were wild flames in his eyes, flaring uncontrollably in reds, oranges, and yellows.

Eris frowned, willing the fire to disappear. His frown deepened when nothing happened. “I’m in control,” Eris muttered. He tried picturing dying embers in his mind, just as his mother had taught him, but if it were possible, the flames seemed brighter. “I’m in control,” Eris repeated, his voice a low growl, the fingers of his one hand curling into a fist. Eris hadn’t struggled with taming his magic like this in over a century.

He was still looking in the mirror, at the sharp lines of his face, at the harsh line of his mouth, as he scowled. Eris thought he had never looked more like his father.

One moment, Eris had been standing still, the next, he’d moved as quick as a snake. He threw his fist forward with all his strength, the glass of the mirror cracking under the impact, his flaming eyes still visible in every shard. Eris punched the mirror again, small fragments of glass clinking against the floor.

The smell of faerie blood hadn’t really gotten any better, Eris realized, probably because it was still under his nails, in the lines of his palm, in the wrinkles on the knuckles of each finger.

A beastly snarl ripped from his throat as he grabbed the carved wooden frame of the mirror, ripping it off the dresser only to slam it against the floor. The glass finally fell from the frame, shattering, but Eris continued to hit the frame against the hardwood floor.

Eris was tired and angry and he didn’t want to see his own reflection, would have preferred if he never had to look in a mirror again. He broke the wood of the mirror, splinters littered around his bare feet along with the small pieces of glass. Eris threw what remained in his hands at the opposite wall, surprising himself when it turned into ash before it crashed against the stone. Eris ran a trembling hand through his long hair, his chest heaving with each breath.

He took a step back, leaning against the dresser before he slid to the floor, eyes clenched shut. “I’m in control,” he whispered, hoping the lie would become a reality.

Eris had always been aware of the little control he had in his life, but only very recently had he started feeling like a puppet with strings. Everything his father asked, Eris did, a cruel smile on his face all the while. Eris couldn’t even bear to look at his mother, didn’t want to face that kind of disappointment.

Eris breathed in from his nose slowly, opening his eyes as he reached for a larger shard of the mirror right by his hand. He angled it so he could see his face, and tightened his hold along the edges when he saw there were still flames in his eyes. 

Blood leaked from where Eris gripped the sharp glass, dripping along his hand, down to his wrist, and onto the floor. He had hoped that perhaps the pain would anchor him, offer him some control on his magic, but it didn’t even hurt. 

“Eris?”

Eris flinched, startled, dropping the bloodied shard and knocking the back of his head against the dresser with a loud thud. His mother had spoken so softly, he shouldn’t have jumped like that. He ran his uninjured hand through his hair, “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

She ignored his question, pushing the heavy door to his room open and slipping inside, asking another question of her own. “What are you doing?”

Eris took a breath, “I’ve made a real mess of things.” He waved his bloodied hand in front of him, and the Lady of Autumn gasped, but Eris just continued speaking. “Just a horrible, horrible mess of things.”

“What happened?” Eris could hear the panic in his mother’s tone, but he just shrugged, shaking his head.

She walked towards him on silent bare feet, “Watch the glass,” Eris barked. He must have looked quite frightening with the flames in his eyes shining bright in the dark of the room.

She didn’t even pause, expertly stepping around the pieces of the mirror, before she sat down right beside him. Close, but not touching. Her russett eyes hadn’t stopped looking at his hand. “Oh, Eris,” she breathed, a slight tremor in her voice, “There’s glass in your knuckles.” Eris hadn’t noticed. When he lifted his other hand to brush the pieces away, his mother placed a hand on his arm. “Not like that,” she said a tad sharply.

Eris faced her, and while she might have been slightly horrified to see what he’d done to his hand, she reminded Eris of the female he remembered from his childhood. She lifted her chin, her mouth set in a firm line and her back straight. Even in her nightgown, her hair in a messy braid over her shoulder, she was a force to be reckoned with. “You’ll make it worse like that.” She reached past his head to grab the towel he’d thrown onto the dresser, “Give me your hand.”

Eris scowled, he was too old to be getting told what to do by his mother. She raised a brow at him and Eris scrunched his nose, doing as she said. With gentle fingers, she slowly pried all the pieces of glass from his hand, wincing when blood dripped from his knuckles. “Tell me what happened,” it wasn’t a request.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Eris mumbled, he definitely wasn’t going to tell her why, he didn’t want her to know what kept him up at night. “And then I couldn’t get the scent off.”

The Lady of Autumn lifted her son’s hand closer to her face, sniffing subtly, “What scent?” 

Eris shook his head, refusing to answer. He didn’t know whether or not the High Lord had told his wife what his son had been spending much of his time doing as of late.

“I smell nothing but blood, Eris.” There was no judgement, no frustration, in her tone. She held his large hand in one of her much smaller ones, certain there was no more glass, as she pushed the towel against his knuckles.

“Me too,” Eris muttered, amber eyes following his mother’s every move. He couldn’t remember the last time he had spoken to his mother for this long. He guessed that it must have been at Cato and Owain’s funeral. Eris hadn’t wanted to speak with her, not after he’d broken his oath to protect Lucien, not after he’d managed to fail at the only thing his mother had ever asked of him. Eris felt a burning behind his eyes and blinked a few times, taking a small breath.

His mother flipped his hand once his knuckles had mostly healed, but the deep cut he’d gotten from gripping onto the sharp shard of the mirror was still bleeding. It might even scar, Eris thought. The Lady of Autumn sighed, “I wish I knew what was going on in that head of yours.”

Eris was glad she didn’t know what was going on in his head, thanked the cauldron that his mother was not a daemati. His head was a horrible place to be, especially lately, now that he felt overwhelmed with everything.

Lagos had tried apologizing countless times. Eris had kicked him out of his cottage, had pulled rank and ordered him not to return, but that hadn’t stopped him yet. Eris wondered how long he’d keep it up. Eris hadn’t tried talking to Micah, and he knew perfectly well that Micah wouldn’t come to him, that he’d let Eris make the first move always and that wouldn’t change. Widge always came to the cottage and sat with him as he worked; Eris couldn’t shake the feeling that he did so out of pity.

Not only that, but Cato and Owain’s deaths meant that Beron was pitting Maddox and Priam against him. Eris was almost certain they wanted to kill him just to prove to their father that they weren’t as worthless as he’d always thought they were. Rufus was still trying to convince Eris that gaining their father’s trust was an impossible goal, and Eris knew that his actions would eventually push Rufus away. And Lucien was gone, exiled to Spring, and he hated his oldest brother.

Eris clenched his jaw, staring fixedly at the flames flickering in the fireplace on the opposite side of the room.

His mother placed a hand on Eris’s chin, tilting his face so that he looked at her concerned gaze, “Tell me what troubles you.”

Eris could have died at the sob that escaped his lips. He felt a rush of shame, his cheeks heating, as his mother’s eyes filled with tears as well.

His mother hadn’t seen him cry since he was eighteen. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d broken down like this, especially in front of somebody else. Many things troubled Eris, but he’d gotten very good at hiding behind sneers and scowls. Eris didn’t like following his father’s orders, Eris didn’t like smelling the blood on his hands, Eris didn’t like looking in the mirror.

Eris brought his uninjured hand to his face, covering his eyes with it as another sob fell from his mouth. He didn’t like the way his mother looked as if she saw into his soul, if she looked too close he feared she wouldn’t find one. Eris felt his mother wrap her arms around him, her hand going to the back of his head.

“I’m so sorry, Eris,” she whispered, “I’m so terribly sorry.”

Eris didn’t know why she was apologizing. He tried to shake his head, but his mother was still holding him tight.

“I never should have made you take that oath,” she spoke with her lips pressed to his hair. “I’m so sorry, Eris.”

Maybe she was right. That fucking vow had been the start of his downward spiral. Or maybe it hadn’t been. Maybe he’d been spiralling for centuries.

Eris didn’t say anything, he just ever so slowly wrapped his arms around his mother, his chin resting on her too-slim shoulder. Eris didn’t really like being held, hadn’t liked it as a child, but this wasn’t too bad.

He made a funny sounding whimper and bit his tongue to keep himself from doing it again.

“Eris, tell me what troubles you,” she repeated, her fingers pushing his hair over his shoulder as she moved back to look into his eyes. His mother lifted a hand to his face, gently wiping at the tears on his cheeks. “Please.”

Eris shook his head, he could not tell her what he was feeling, not really. His mother had enough to worry about.

He knew her thoughts were with Lucien, and if they weren’t, she was probably thinking about Cato and Owain. She didn’t need to spend any time thinking about what was troubling him, especially since Eris knew it would break her heart to know that he was unhappy.

“I’m alright,” Eris lied. 

“Eris, please,” the Lady of Autumn tried again.

Eris took a deep breath.

He needed to become High Lord, to sit on the Autumn Court throne, and he would do just about anything to steal his father’s crown. Beron had raised a monster, and it would come back to ruin him. He was the Tamer of Flames, the Heir of Autumn, the Prince of Ashes. He was not broken, and he would not break.

So Eris just flashed his mother an empty smile, the iron scent of blood still burning through his nose as he spoke.

“I’m just tired.”

[gwynposting]

Justice (Ch. 1)

This is the start of an alternate ending for Cyberunk 2077, focused around Judy as she tries to help V rid herself of the relic without also shedding her soul in the process.

AO3 Link

The feigning scent of nicotine clouds leftover from the trapped remnants of Maiko’s cigarette sent itching pulses of desire through V’s body. The activation throughout her body startled and scared her. She didn’t smoke. She hadn’t puffed a stick in her life and yet she eased into it like she was sitting in a favorite chair. More than once had she caught herself reaching for a cigarette from Evelyn’s pack before swiping the inner thoughts of Johnny away.

The clack of Maiko’s stilettos began to fade into the background, “Maiko, hold up. Give us a lift?” Roxanne called out.

“Only if you don’t talk to me,” Maiko responded bitterly, “I feel a migraine coming on.”

She’s not the only one, V thought to herself. It almost felt like the cigarette fumes had been a trigger for it - like her brain was trying to associate the smell to memories that she’s never experienced before, that never existed. Flashes of seething bitter hatred and insecurity and jealousy pulsed through her veins came and went.

It took the breath out of her, and V had to brace herself with both hands to remain upright.

“Oh shit,” Judy said as she siddled besides V, “I’m scared, V.”

Judy looked down to her lap before continuing, “Speakin’ of gratitude… stuff I’m askin’ you to do, well - usually comes with a price tag, I know. You wanna help, I get that. But I’m more’n happy to pay your fee in full.”

V shifted her weight to her right arm so she could wave Judy away with her left, “C’mon Judy, you serious? Out of the question.”

“Bu-” Judy tried to make her case.

“Ah ah ah,” V tutted, “Not… not a word,” dizziness began to set in - her head began to swim and V found it difficult to even complete a sentence. She tried to provide a smile of assurance, but by the expression on Judy’s face, she wasn’t buying it.

“You okay V?” Judy reached out and placed a hand on V’s knee.

V looked up to meet Judy’s concerned eyes, which she could only meet with her own - unfocused and strained. “Don’t worry ‘bout me, just a long day.”

“How ‘bout I call a cab then,” Judy soothed.

“Preem,” V replied, before placing both hands on her knees and trying to lift herself up from the couch. “Thanks -” she began before what felt like electricity shot through her nervous system.

V clutched her head in agony as if it would stop the cosmic force tormenting her from using her skull as a sharpening stone. Every scrape and slice caused by another memory overwriting her brain, another one of her memories lost to time as one more of Johnny Silverhand’s took its place. 

RELIC MALFUNCTION DETECTED

V’s legs gave out from under her. She reached out for the couch’s siding to fall back onto.

But she was far too weak to support herself, and her legs began to give out from under her until she collapsed on the cushion below.

 “V? Are you okay?” Judy’s voice sounded distant.

She barely even heard Judy. She was breathless, her heart raced. She was staring down the barrel of Dexter Deshawn and he had just put a bullet through her skull.

“V?” Judy’s words became more desperate, “Talk to me.”

It sounded like V was underwater and all she could hear were the muffled desperate cries of Judy, until finally Judy reached out and shook her shoulder.

“V,” Judy stressed, “please.”

But as quickly as the searing pain shot through her body, it soon dissipated.  Yet she continued to stare forward, past Judy and into the distance - she still stood down the barrel of Deshawn’s .22.

“S-sorry to scare you like that,” V attempted a smile. Her cheeks were a deep scarlet, whether flush from the pain moments before or from the embarrassment of having Judy bear witness to one of her episodes.

“W-what the fuck, V,” Judy’s voice had a hint of shakiness, “are you like… sick?”

“Something like that,” V said with a gruff. She still felt in a sort of daze, her muscles struggled to keep herself upright. “How much you wanna know?”

Judy tilted her head, “Only what you want to, V. I just want to know if you’re okay.”

V looked off to the side before her eyes rested upon her lap, “Well,” V said with a choke that even caught herself off guard, “Might have bad news for you.”

She attempted to look Judy in the eye but faltered under their piercing worry, “You know the heist that Evelyn hired us for, the relic I was gonna klep?”

“Couldn’t forget that in a million years,” Judy said somberly.

“I’ll spare you the gritty details but… in short the chip we stole’s stuck in my head. The chip is keeping me alive, but it’s also slowly killing me.”

Judy seemed taken aback, “You bein’ serious?”

“Sounds like a lot, I know. Truly wish it was all bullshit, believe me.”

“Fuck,” Judy muttered under her breath, “Anything at all you can do?”

“One can hope,” V withered.

Judy gave a sad smile, “It’s late, you’re tired. You can crash here for the night if you’d like,” Judy gave a reassuring pat on the knee to V.

V could only nod in return, “Thanks, Jude.”

Judy stood up and walked back to her room while V took the opportunity to kick off her boots and lay down on the couch. There wasn’t a pillow to lean on, but V couldn’t care less - she was already half asleep by the time her cheeks touched the couch.

“I got some pillows and a blanket for -” Judy cut herself off as she saw V fast asleep on her couch, arms splayed out and face straight down. She couldn’t help but smile, “Pssh, fuckin’ gonk.”

Judy shifted her weight to the balls of her feet, creeping up to the sleeping merc. With as careful a touch as she could, she cradled V’s head in one hand as she slipped a pillow underneath. She then took the blanket and splayed it atop her body.

Judy looked down upon V’s form and found it hard to take her eyes away. To see such a force of nature so vulnerable, so… 

Adorable…

It sent butterflies to the pit of Judy’s stomach.

But in the same moment those butterflies turned to boulders, sinking within as she felt the gravity of the emotions within - vulnerability.

Of course she’s fucking dying, the dark thoughts appeared in Judy’s head. And while they were immediately beaten back down by conscious thought, she wasn’t able to push down the underlying fear that she’d open herself up to someone once more, only to lose them to the inevitable grind of Night City’s heel. But her mind was no more hostage to her first impulse as she was to her second - there was an ever present war taking place within her.

 How could I be so selfish? She’s fucking dying and I immediately make it about myself.

Judy hadn’t even realized she’d reached for the pack of cigarettes in her pocket until her other hand failed to locate her lighter. Deciding she didn’t want to bother having a fight with herself on a nicotine-deprived brain, she waited until she was back on the roof of her building, lit cigarette in hand, staring out to the NC skyline.

Is it too much to ask for just one thing to go right, she asked herself.

Yet Judy quickly reminded herself, You’re acting like she’s your girlfriend already.

Judy cursed herself at even the thought - she didn’t even know if V was even into women. She took a heavy draw from her cigarette before flicking it off the balcony.

***

Judy’s gaze lingered on V’s sleeping form. Maybe she was looking a bit too close - her eyes focused on a couple strands of hair drooped over V’s face. She had the overwhelming desire to sweep them back over the merc’s ear, but ultimately decided not.

“Goodnight, V.” 

***

Sharp cracks raced through the air. Although used to the familiar tenors, V shot up in an instant - her hair raised on end, breath rapid, and heartbeat racing. More gunfire sprung forth, followed by the screeching squeal of rubber against pavement. The gripping roar of motorcycles soon began to fade into the streets of Kabuki.

V clutched her chest as she tried to calm herself down. She was fine.

For now.

But as the adrenaline began to fade, the throbbing headache leftover from last night’s attack took its place. V groaned in pain as she began to feel her own heartbeat through her head.

“Mornin’, sleepyhead.” Judy called out.

V turned to see Judy in the kitchen making breakfast. She tried to match the energy Judy was bestowed but could only manage a pained half-smile. “Helluva alarm clock.”

“Things have been getting hot between Maelstrom and the Tyger Claws lately,” Judy sighed, “it doesn't help that I live on the border of their territories.”

Judy paused what she was doing and instead took a mug from the cupboard and filled it with coffee from the pot. She also grabbed a pill bottle and doled out a couple in her hand and brought them both over to V.

“Coffee and,” she held out her hand for V, dropping its contents into her hand, “ibuprofen. And I hope you like ham.”

“Wow,” V replied, “thanks, Judy. And yeah, I love it.”

“Least I can do.” Judy said with a smile before returning to the kitchen.

Least I can do, she repeated in her thoughts.

V tossed both tablets in her mouth and washed it down with several large gulps of coffee. The scalding liquid coating the inside of her mouth was the least of her concerns, she needed caffeine inside her ASAP.

When Judy was finished, she brought over a fresh ham sandwich. V took it and scarfed it down, only to blush as she realized what a messy eater she was being.

Wiping her lips clean, she looked up to see Judy sitting on the couch a ways away looking vaguely concerned, “Sorry I uh, freaked you out last night.”

“Does that happen a lot?” Judy asked.

V rubbed her neck, not wanting to lay it all on Judy at once, “It’s not usually that bad.”

“C’mon, V. Cut the shit. What’s really going on?”

“No gettin’ around this, huh?” V asked, but really it was more a statement of fact, knowing Judy.

Judy gave a half smile, but it gave away her underlying fears and doubts, “I’m worried, V.”

Something deeper pierced V, she couldn’t pinpoint it. All she knew was she couldn’t deny Judy this request, “You want the long version, then?”

“Call it a thanks for breakfast,” Judy smirked.

“Might want to get comfortable then. Because well, shit, where do I begin?” V thought for a moment before continuing once more, “So, my choom and I, big guy named Jackie, tangled with this hotshot fixer, Dexter Deshawn.”

“He’s the one who put you in contact with Evie?” Judy asked.

V nodded, “Mhm, as well as make us run some errands,” V said with a scoff, “but anyways, the job was to hit Konpeki Plaza, right? Klep some biochip that the son of ‘Saka was stealing for himself.”

“Which is why you came in for the braindances,” Judy affirmed.

“Exactly. But the job went wrong, as you know. I lost Jackie getting out of Konpeki. And…”

“...and?” Judy said, softly, not wanting to sound too impatient.

“I died, Judy. I fucking died.” V shuddered at the thought.

“Are you… are you joking right now?” How are you alive?” Judy leaned forward in disbelief.

“Remember that chip we were stealin’? Well, the container got busted when we were escaping. The next best place to store it was hooked into one of our brains, apparently. Jackie took the honors initially but… well….” V shook her head, “So I slotted the shard in myself after Jackie died.”

“I’m sorry, by the way. Truly,” Judy soothed as she scooched closer across the sofa so that she was now in touching distance between V.

V could really only offer a smile of acknowledgement in return, for she felt nothing but agony when she looked inward. “Guess the biochip was my saving grace - Dexter Deshawn double crossed me, put a bullet in my skull. I died then. But the craziest part is that the chip restarted my brain, god knows how much later. And I woke up to find myself in a junkyard in the badlands, covered in filth in debris.”

“J-Jesus fuck, V.” Judy’s voice hitched, “But I guess you made it out, all things considered.”

V nodded, “Got back only to realize I had the engram of a terrorist in my brain - Johnny Silverhand.”

“Woah, woah,” Judy waved, “engram?”

“Think of it like some digitized psyche, like if someone downloaded your entire brain and saved it to memory. His psyche is on the chip inside me.”

“Okay okay, so like the ‘Saka commercials just… just in your brain.”

“Yeah, something like that. But I guess when it restarted my brain, the chip began erasing me and writing in Johnny.”

“Fuck,” Judy stuttered. “So you’re becoming Johnny Silverhand?”

“Yeah,” V’s voice cracked, tears began to form on high cheekbones. “In a few weeks’ time, I’ll be someone completely different. I won’t even exist.” 

Judy instantly moved to V’s side and wrapped an arm about her, pulling her close. “I wonder what it’ll be like to die for a second time,” V pondered dryly. 

“Is there really nothing you can do?” Judy almost pleaded.

“There’s a few leads. I’m waiting to hear back from a fixer that can put me in touch with the Voodoo Boys, and I still need to look into finding the lead researcher for the biochip.”

“Ok,” Judy breathed deeply, “Alright. Then you focus on that, okay? And listen, I know you said you’d help out with Clouds but this is your life on the line here, V, I’d completely understand if you back out.”

“I said I was helping Judy, and that’s final.” 

V’s assuredness sent a shiver down Judy’s spine - her unwavering voice, despite cracked with emotion moments before, her steadied eyes, still reddened from irritation and tears yet firm in their conviction, and the almost offended expression on her face to even suggest that she’d go back on her promise. 

“Then... keep me posted? About how it goes... If you want,” Judy stumbled over her words. “I want to help if I can.”

“Of course, Judy. And thanks,” V smiled in appreciation.

Even the slightest gesture made Judy’s heart flutter. This gonk will be the death of me. 

[bungou-stray-dingus]

I love the one you write about Dazai having a new infant. Could you do the same with Fyodor(・∀・)

a/n : Fyodor is both a baby and an asshole and I love him wholeheartedly. He deserves to be happy too. Thank you for the request!

Fyodor Dostoevsky

You were the purest thing in existence according to Fyodor. He loved you, that much was clear even without him verbally saying so. You didn't have an ability, and you always took care of him  whenever he came home both physically, mentally and emotionally. He worked himself too hard, and it worried you deeply considering his anemia. You'd check in on him constantly to make sure that he was getting enough sleep, that he was eating and he was drinking enough water. Whenever he came home you made sure to give him enough love and affection to make up for the time he missed when he was away.

He was just waking up, always the early riser and he gently kissed your temple before scooting out of the bed, making sure not to wake you in the process. He loved the way your hair would curtain your face, your lips slightly parted as you slept peacefully. He always thought you looked beautiful, but there was something so mesmerizing to him about the way you looked when you slept, he couldn't explain it. You rolled over, your hand absentmindedly reaching out to his side of his bed, feeling around for him, a small pout forming on your face as your eyes slowly fluttered open. "Good morning, dearest." His voice was still coated with sleepiness, and mixed with his accent it was beyond sexy.

You rolled over and looked at the clock on the nightstand, it was only five in the morning, the sun hadn't even risen over the city yet. "You're leaving already?" He nodded to you as he began dressing himself, his fingers carefully buttoning his shirt as his eyes stayed focused on you. "Hmph... well, I'll make you some breakfast before you go." You moved to get out of bed and he shook his head, softly pushing you back down on the pillow, pressing his lips to your temple.

"Get back to sleep. I'll grab something before I go. I promise." He wrapped his pinky around yours, something that you had begun doing with him whenever you promised something. It showed that you were serious about it, you never break a pinky promise, and he took it just as serious as you did. You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips as he brushed your hair out of your face.

"When will you be back?" You asked, reaching up to brush your fingers against his face, his skin was always so cold, but you had long since gotten used to the temperature difference between the two of you. He shrugged after pressing one last kiss to your lips and then pushing himself up off the bed. "What do you mean..." You mimicked his shrug as you propped yourself up on the bed, your eyes following him around the room as he grabbed his cloak, ushanka, and boots.

He hesitated next to the door, you heard his sigh before he turned to look back at you. "I don't know, but I'll keep in touch, and I'll try to be back as soon as possible. Now go back to bed." He walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him. You grabbed one of his pillows and held it over your face as you fell back onto your own pillows and started crying. You hated when he left, you never knew if he would come back, and that terrified you.

One Month Later

Fyodor hadn't returned home yet, but he wasn't the only thing that hadn't come to you as you thought it would. You sat on the edge of your bed, a bed that seemed ridiculously large whenever he wasn't there with you, and you swiped through the calendar on your phone. "One week, two weeks, three weeks, four weeks... five weeks... six weeks... seven...?" You counted the weeks over and over again, just to make sure you weren't miscounting. "Shit." You groaned, getting up off the bed and grabbing your shoes out of the closet. He hated when you left the house without him, he always made sure the house was properly stocked before he left so you would be able to avoid leaving at all, unless it was necessary. This seemed pretty damn necessary though, and the store was only a block away.

You walked in and made your way to the aisle with the tests, grabbing four boxes, just to be sure. It didn't hurt to be 200% sure, you know, just in case the first test was a fluke or something. You weren't really sure what you would do if they came back positive, and you definitely weren't ready for Fyodor's reaction if they were positive either. He didn't seem like the type of man that would want a child, especially not right now considering the mission he was on. He was barely ever home, the kid would barely ever see his or her own father.

When you got back to the house you ran to the bathroom, sitting on the lid of the toilet and reading the directions of the tests. Sure, they were pretty simple, but you just wanted to be sure that you took them correctly so there weren't any false results. You were stressed, and you cursed Fyodor for not being there with you right now when you needed him the most. You would feel a lot better if he was there to comfort you in the moment, to make you feel like it wouldn't be as bad if those tests came back positive, but no, his work came first.

The tests sat on the back of the toilet, your phone was in your hand, the timer set for five minutes as you paced the length of your bedroom. You picked up on the habit of biting the tip of your thumb from Fyodor, and you were biting it so hard that it had started to bleed. "Dammit..." you sighed, walking into the bathroom to grab a band-aid for your freshly self inflicted wound. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the tests on the back of the toilet, and you immediately forgot about your bleeding thumb, your eyes scanning over all four tests that had a combined total of eight pink lines. "Oh... shit...." You mumbled, your heart was racing and your vision became cloudy as tears began to build on your lower lashes.

You had to call him, you had to let him know, but you didn't even know if it was safe for you to do so at the moment. He hadn't texted or called since last night, and you were sure that he was out somewhere, if you called him it could draw attention and he could get hurt. So you had to wait, you had to wait for him. You were left alone with your thoughts for God knows how long, and your anxiety would only build more and more until that moment comes.

By the time he called five hours later, it was nine o'clock at night and you were sitting on the couch curled up in one of his cloaks, angrily eating a tub of ice cream while crying about the movie on the television screen. You hadn't realized how quick the hormone charged emotions would kick in, but they were evident now. You had never cried at a movie before, and here you were ugly crying into your Rocky Road while still internally fuming at your fiance who was no where around when you needed him most.

You grabbed your phone and answered it quickly, holding it up to your ear. "'Bout time you called." You said snidely, but the sound of your sniffles was what got his attention.

"You're crying. Are you alright, my love? Is there something wrong?" He chided, hoping to pull an answer out of you, and you let out a dry, humorless chuckle.

"Is there something wrong? Well I sure as hell think there is! You're never around when I need you, and I'm stuck going through shit all by myself and there's tears in my ice cream and you're not fucking home!" You shouted at him through the phone, your voice cracking whenever you reached octaves that you were unaware you could go to.

"Hmmm, my love is upset. What can I do to possibly make her feel better?" His voice was soft and velvety through the phone and as much as it used to comfort you before, it was only upsetting you more now.

"You could come home so I can talk to you in person."

"You know I can't do-"

"Fyodor, I'm pregnant." You said, closing your eyes, bracing for his reaction. He was quiet, and you wished that you could see his face right now, but all you got was silence. It was deafening, and his silence was much more scary right now. You wanted him to say something, you needed to know that he was still there.

"Are you sure?" He asked after what seemed like an eternity of silence, and you sighed, letting your head fall back against the cushion of the couch. Of course he would ask that, he wasn't here to see the four tests that all showed positives, he wasn't here for anything.

"Yes. I'm sure." Your anger hit you again. This wasn't a conversation you should be having over the damn phone. This should be an exciting time for you and your fiance, but instead, due to his constant absence, you were scared, and you were alone. "But you know what, I'll handle it myself, just like I handle everything else. Hope your mission goes well. I'm going to bed." You hung up the phone and placed it on the coffee table. You shrugged out of Fyodor's cloak and turned off the television, grabbing the empty jug of ice cream off the table and tossing it into the trash as you made your way to your bedroom.

You shut the door and locked it behind you before undressing and changing into your pajamas, climbing into your bed and pulling the comforters up to your chin. You finally fell asleep as the tears formed puddles in the divots of the pillow.

The sound of pots and pans clanging in the kitchen startled you awake, the smell of pancakes, bacon, and eggs filled your nostrils, the sun was shining brightly into your room, you saw dust particles floating around in the large beam of light. You stretched as you got out of bed, sliding the slippers onto your feet and wrapping your robe tightly around your body before you left the room to inspect what was going on.

When you opened the door, the first thing you saw were the rose petals that created a trail down the hallway. You hummed to yourself as you followed the trail around the corner to the kitchen, and you could have sworn that your heart grew three sizes at the image. A bouquet of white roses, lavender, and purple hydrangeas. They stood in a beautiful crystal vase, and sitting in front of the vase was a large white teddy bear with two smaller teddy bears, pink and blue, on each side.

"What are you doing home so soon?" You asked as you leaned in and smelt one of the roses. He turned to face you, a small smile on his face as he took you in. Whenever he came home, it was like falling in love with you all over again. He could never get over how absolutely gorgeous you were. He placed the spatula on the counter as he made his way over to you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you close against his chest.

"I know I'm gone a lot, I apologize for my absence. I wasn't here when I should have been, but I'm here now."

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

Fyodor was never one to express his emotions well, but your pregnancy had changed him, and he began trying. He wanted to be there for everything, every moment of your pregnancy he wanted to experience it with you. Not only was it exciting for him, but he also found it fascinating. He still went out for his missions, but he was never gone quite as long as he used to be. The longest he was ever gone since your pregnancy became known was two weeks, and even then he called every hour, on the hour to check in on you.

When he was home, he was actually quite over bearing. You never complained though, it was nice having him around so much. Every step you took, he was right behind you. He didn't want you to lift a finger. He learned how to cook so you wouldn't have to, he even did the laundry, although you had to help him at first so he wouldn't destroy any of your clothes. He was very invested in your pregnancy, learning everything he needed to know so that he was prepared for everything and anything.

Your morning sickness came later in your pregnancy, and it was a scheduled occurrence, one that he knew very well. Whenever the time came he was already helping you off the couch to get you to the bathroom, holding your hair behind your back as he rubbed soothing circles into your back. He had a cup of water and mouthwash prepared on the counter for afterwards, and he'd help you back to the couch after you were done. He'd bring you a couple saltine crackers to fill your stomach and another glass of water and he'd sit next to you on the couch, holding his hand against your forehead, helping to cool you down after you worked up a sweat from your retching.

He came to every doctors appointment, although he had to wear a disguise due to being one of the most wanted terrorists in Yokohama, it made you happy that he was there. If one your appointments fell on a day that he was out for one of his missions, he would be found waiting outside the doctors office for you to show up. He wouldn't miss a doctors appointment for anything, he would be caught dead before that ever happened.

When he found out you were having twins he became extremely over protective of you and your stomach. He always had a hand on your growing abdomen, tracing your stretch marks with his icy fingers. Whenever you felt self conscious about them, he would place kisses across your stomach and remind you how beautiful it was that you were growing and glowing with two of his children.

Whenever he did have to leave for missions he brought the ultrasound pictures with him, he would look at the pictures and they were a constant reminder to him that the world needed to be ridden of its sin before they came. He needed to cleanse the world so his children could grow up in a society free of sin.

During one of your doctors appointments at six months the doctor told you that you had high blood pressure and needed to be on bed rest for the safety of the babies and yourself. Fyodor enforced that rule, and he stopped going on missions completely. He had his "rats" do his work for him, and they would report to him at the end of the day. He refused to leave your side. When you had to use the bathroom, he would help you onto the toilet and then stand in the doorway with his back turned until you were done, and then he'd help you up. It was embarrassing at first, but you ended up getting used to it, and you knew that he was only doing it because he worried so much. He helped you bathe, sitting on the edge of the bathtub to wash your hair and your body, always murmuring to himself how beautiful you looked. He would only leave the room to cook your meals, and then he would bring those meals to you in bed and feed them to you.

Since you couldn't do shopping at the store, he would lay with you in bed, his laptop on his lap as he scrolled through websites, ordering everything that your eyes lingered on for longer than two seconds. Your front door was filled constantly with packages because according to him, money wasn't a problem if he was spending it on you and the babies. Their bassinets were both a pristine white and they were set up in the corner of your bedroom. He said nurseries were useless until they were about a year and half, that they needed to be with their parents until then because there's a lot of complications that could occur with a child that young while they were sleeping and it would be safer for them to be as close as possible if anything were to happen. You did not argue, there was no point in arguing with that logic.

When he found out that the children were a girl and a boy he was overjoyed. He got both a son and a daughter in one try, it was truly a blessing to him. He started making a list of potential baby names and you both stayed up late at night looking through the names until you both agreed on two.

Elizaveta for your daughter and Iosif for your son. Picking their names made it more real for him, it was more concrete now. He would often lay his head against your stomach, cooing in Russian to the children. They would usually kick when he did this, and whenever they did he would quickly look up to you and ask if you were okay, and then lay his head back down and talk again in his mother tongue, probably scolding them for kicking you.

You had no doubts about him as a father, he truly loved his children. Before you had gotten pregnant he had rarely ever said the L- word, but now, every night, he would press a kiss to your lips, and then lean down to kiss your stomach twice, once at the top, and the last kiss at the bottom. He would whisper that he loved them both and then tell them not to move too much so you could sleep. Then he would move back up and place one more kiss to your cheek before whispering that he loved you.

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

The snow coated the ground, building up against the windowsills. It was a blizzard, and it was beautiful. Fyodor had helped you move into the living room, lighting the fireplace and handing you a cup of hot chocolate as you both watched the snow fall. His legs were stretched along the couch as he leaned against the arm, you were laying against his chest between his legs. His finger traced hearts over your stomach and you both sipped on you drinks enjoying the view. "It's beautiful, I wish the children were here to see it." Fyodor murmured before taking another sip.

Just then you felt a sharp pain in your stomach, you shot up straight and he quickly grabbed your cup out of your hand and placed it on the coffee table. His brow furrowed and his forehead creased with worry lines. "They... they might be... fuck..." You squeezed your eyes shut and gripped onto the couch cushion as you tried to breathe your way through the pain. You felt the wetness build between your legs and you turned to look back at Fyodor. He nodded and helped guide you up off the couch.

He grabbed your coat and helped you put it on and button it up, then he draped a large wool blanket over your shoulders as he led you to the door, grabbing his keys on the way over. "Fyo, there's a blizzard, you can't drive in this."

"My dearest darling, I'm Russian." Was his only explanation, and you rolled your eyes. His arm was wrapped tightly around your waist as he helped you walk down the front stairs. The snow was deep and the wind was strong, it felt like it was lashing against your face. You shivered as it hit you, and he held you closer, helping you walk through the snow to the car.

It must have just been a coincidence that he had just traded in his small sedan for a larger SUV with four wheel drive only the week before. Surely if he still had the smaller car you would have been delivering these babies at home. Your luggage was already packed and stored in the back of the truck, the carseats were hooked up in the second row as well. He was more prepared for this than you were.

He slipped off his cloak and placed it over your lap and as soon as he started up the car he blasted the heat. The contractions came steadily and you felt the pressure building, you were panting heavily as you held onto the handle above the door. He drove slowly through the snow, trying to get there as quick and as safely as he could. "You're doing great, dear. Keep breathing." He said softly, his hand on your thigh squeezing it gently to try to calm you down.

"How much longer... Fuck! Please go faster." You pleaded with him as the next round of contractions came on. You clenched your teeth and you whimpered as the tears threatened to fall. You had never been in so much pain, it felt like every single bone in your body was being broken, it was torture.

You were checked into the hospital and wheeled to your room. Fyodor watched as the doctors worked over you, checking how dilated you were, hooking you up to heart monitors and other machines that you didn't quite understand. You got hooked up to an IV that would help ease the pain of the contractions, but nothing seemed to help as much as you hoped it would.

Fyodor stood by your bed and held your hand as you labored through every contraction. You had been clenching your teeth so hard that they actually hurt, your head was throbbing and you felt nauseous. The doctors had come in and told you and Fyodor that you would need to have a C-Section which was something that you didn't really want, but opted to do just so you knew both of the babies would come out safely. You had done enough research to figure out that even if one was delivered naturally, the other would most likely come out through a C-Section anyway.  

He was quickly suited up, and if you weren't in so much pain you would have giggled at how he looked in the blue scrubs, they definitely did not accent his beautiful dark purple eyes. The doctors began wheeling you down the hall and he walked quickly next to you, refusing to let go of your hand for one second.

You had been given sedatives through the IV and you were numb, it felt strange because you could still feel a dull pull whenever you had a contraction. There was a blue curtain blocking the view of your stomach, so you found comfort in looking up at Fyodor, staring into his eyes as he looked down at you. You could tell that he was smiling, even behind the mask, as the corner of his eyes would crease slightly.

He would occasionally glance around the curtain and hum as his interest was peaked, watching as the doctors carefully sliced through the skin and muscles of your abdomen. You could still feel it slightly, the sensation of the tugging and pulling, but it never actually hurt. His hands were on your shoulders, and although you couldn't actually feel the circles he was rubbing into your skin with his thumbs, there was comfort in knowing that he was touching you, that he was there with you.

The birth itself took not much longer than thirty minutes, and by that time you felt like you were going to pass out, so you weren't sure how much longer it took for the doctors to stitch you back up, and none of that really mattered anyway. When you forced your eyes open, the only thing you were looking for was your babies.

Elizaveta Fyodova Dostoevsky, born January 15 at 5:28PM, 5lbs 8ounces.

Iosif Fyodovich Dostoevsky, born January 15 at 5:30PM, 5lbs 2ounces.

They both had jet black hair which contrasted against their skin perfectly. They were tiny, but they were healthy, and they were beautiful. It was love at first sight as soon as you laid your eyes on them. Seeing Fyodor hold both of your children in his arms though, that hit different. You never thought you could love the man more than you did in that moment, but there was something about seeing him in that arm chair, smiling down at both of his children, the look in his eyes spoke volumes. He absolutely adored his children, that much was obvious.

When you were finally discharged from the hospital, he took extra care of you, making sure that you didn't push yourself too hard. He was worried about your incision, and he knew that you would have trouble walking for the next couple weeks. He made sure that you took your medication at the right time every single day, he continued to help you shower even though you told him that you didn't need help anymore, he insisted.

He took stayed home with you, refusing to go on missions until you were fully healed, and if any of the "rats" complained about his lack of focus on the mission he would write their names down to "handle them" later.

Fyodor was strict about scheduling their feeding times and nap times so they wouldn't affect when they went to bed. He was honestly such a devoted father to Iosif and Elizaveta, it was almost shocking to you. You hadn't known before the children came that he could sing, but you learned one night that he had the most beautiful singing voice you had ever heard. He would stand over their bassinets and gently brush his thumb across their heads as he lulled them back to sleep, singing in a hushed tone a gentle Russian lullaby.

He ended up teaching you Russian, you had asked him after you heard him crooning to them while he fed them their bottles. The children seemed to find the language relaxing, and they would often fall asleep listening to their father talk. He wanted his children to know their heritage, to know where there father came from.

Fyodor wasn't one to spoil his children either. When he finally went back to "work" about two months after their birth, he would stay away for only three days, maybe five tops. Whenever he would return, he would bring back something small, something that reminded him of you, Iosif, and Elizaveta. The items didn't cost much, sometimes they cost nothing at all. One time he returned with a small rock, a leaf, and a bird feather. The rock was shiny and a dark grey color with purple streaks going through it, it had reminded him of the beauty of Elizaveta's eyes. The leaf was small, but it was a bright green, it reminded him of Iosif, who was the smallest at birth, but was intelligent and bright already at only two months old, already attempting to hold his own bottles. The feather was pure white, and it reminded him of you. You were still, and always will be the purest thing in his life, the most amazing and beautiful woman he had ever met. You made him feel like the luckiest man on earth, he was so happy, so over joyed with you and the small family that he had, it felt like he was flying.

If someone had asked you in the beginning of your relationship if you thought Fyodor Dostoevsky would ever want to have children, you would have scoffed and said no. Fyodor was a man who, at the time, didn't seem like he would ever be capable of being a father. That hadn't bothered you, because you loved him enough to want to be with him no matter what. Now, here the two of you laid, both of your children between you on the bed, and you couldn't imagine him not being a father to your children. He was the most amazing father you could have ever wanted your children to have.

He pressed quick kisses to the tops of the children's heads before smiling up at you, brushing his fingers along your cheek. "YA lyublyu tebya, moya dorogaya."

a/n : Thank you for reading! I got really really really into it, and I love my baby Fyodor so fricking much. He deserves so much love. Also daddy!Fyodor is a whole ass mood, love me a big Rat Daddy. Okay but seriously, I love him so much. He's just *chefs kith* Also, what he says at the end is "I love you, my dear" because Russian is hot and him speaking Russian would just *kaboom*

[refinedbuffoonery]

mac and riley are on a mission aboad an a snow storm doesn't allow them to go back to LA, they spent christmas together just the two of them (maybe a first kiss?)

First kisses aren’t any fun without the build up, so here’s an almost kiss instead 😘

As soon as Mac hangs up with Matty, Riley slides down the brick wall of the alley they’re currently standing in and sits on her heels, head hanging between her knees. She wants to lie down in defeat, but one look at the slushy, gray snow has her reconsidering. 

Mac sinks down beside her. “So, I guess we’re stuck here, since non-emergency exfil can’t get here until tomorrow night.” He elbows her ribs. “I’ll try not to be too offended that you don’t want to spend Christmas with me.” 

“Sorry,” Riley mumbles. She lifts her head to look at him. “It’s just that my mom and I had plans. We were going to drive up to Christmas Tree Lane and then get up really early tomorrow morning to go for a walk on the beach before we opened presents.” 

“The one in Altadena?” 

“Yeah. We used to go every year when I was a kid.” 

“That sounds really nice, Riles. I’m sorry you have to miss it.” He stands and offers her a hand. “Well, it won’t be sitting in traffic just to drive through some historic trees, but I bet we can find something fun. Come on.” 

Riley sighs. “You just can’t help it, can you?” 

“Help what?” Mac furrows his brow. Man, he’s clueless. She takes his outstretched hand, letting him pull her up. 

“Fixing stuff. Duh.” Mac just laughs and links their arms, leading her down the snowy street. 

It turns out that the small, rural German town is actually quite beautiful all lit up with Christmas lights. White icicle lights hang beside real icicles on the eaves of storefronts and houses, and people’s Christmas trees glow through foggy windows. It’s not Christmas Tree Lane, but it’s nice. 

They pass under an overhang with mistletoe hanging from it, gently swaying in the wind. Not wanting to get caught in an awkward situation, Riley tugs Mac past it before he can notice. 

The snow is coming down harder now. Snowflakes stick to Riley's eyelashes, clouding her vision, so she doesn't see the patch of ice until it's too late. The tread on her boots isn't enough to stop her feet sliding out from beneath her, and she's slipping and falling and bracing for impact. 

Hands grip her waist as Mac says, “Gotcha” from way closer than Riley anticipates. Cracking her eyes open, Riley finds herself nearly nose-to-nose with Mac. He caught her mid-fall like the love interest in a Hallmark Christmas movie, and now he’s leaning over her and oh my god did his eyes just flick to her lips? Calm down, Riley, she chastises herself. You’re imagining things. 

It seems like an eternity passes before Mac hauls her upright again. His hands linger for just a moment too long while he steadies her. Riley tries not to notice, but it’s impossible not to. Every nerve in her body, every neuron in her brain focuses on finding another physical sign—confirmation that she isn’t alone in her feelings. 

There’s nothing. Before he let her go, Mac fixed his face, and now there’s nothing. 

Now Riley doesn’t know what to think. 

[hwarangbangbang]

jin zixuan » captivation

parts - 1 | 2

hello everyone! here is the second part, as requested by @impossibleme09​ to captivation! this is a reader insert so if thats not quite your vibe, i understand~ but if it IS your vibe and you have read the first chapter, i hope you enjoy! and i thank all you kind readers for your patience!

title - captivation word count -  3,004 words   paring - jin zixuan/fem!reader tags - THE ANGST (for the most part) IS OVER!! hopefully only lovely tings in this chapter, heartfelt emotions, mutual pining, affair, kinda happy ending

Four weeks.

Four long, lonely, dark, desperate weeks had passed since your sentencing by the Gusu Lan Sect, alongside the remainder of the court. 

They had dragged you out, kicking and screaming at the verdict whilst they quite literally began to rip apart your only best friend. You could see the look on Zhao Gang's face, the look in his eyes.

At least now, you knew he would be at peace.

You however, were confined for the rest of your days to stare at four stone walls, and a barred window and doorway being the only access you could never have again to the outside world. 

On the third day of the fifth week, which you had conveniently kept track of by using a corroded nail to carve the rustic tallies into the floor, you noticed something peculiar going on outside of your cell window. It was faint, given how quiet it always was down in the prison of the Lanling Jin Sect, but you heard it.

 The small sound of rustling paper, following by said parchment falling down onto the floor of your cell. Your cell was partially underground, the window starting at the beginning of the ground and only extending up a few feet, so on occasion trash could come in through the slots in the bars, you didn't pay much mind to it.

However, this parchment seemed different. It was a letter. 

With curious eyes, you walked over to it, picking up the letter that was sealed with a gold emblem to keep it shut. You knew that sigil anywhere, it was that of the Lanling Jin Sect. When you turned it over, you saw your name beautifully written on the front of it. 

Why would a letter be addressed to you, coming from the very sect you were imprisoned at, be coming through your cell window? Couldn't whatever message may be, not be delivered by word of mouth from a guard?

Regardless, you opened up the letter, not caring for the golden wax infused sigil that was ripped in half as you pulled it apart and began to read. 

Cultivator [ Y/L/N ], I do hope this letter finds you in good health -- though I do understand your predicament is less than desirable and for that I do apologize on behalf of the court and my sect. 

I was present that day, the day of your sentencing, and while I do agree that your choices of alternate methods of cultivation were a bit of an extreme shock to us and to the cultivation world, I believe you do not deserve a life such as this. 

You were in mourning for your companion, and it is with my deepest  apologies that you must go through it again. I wish for his soul to be carried to the highest of places, awaiting yours in the future. 

I would like to help you, should you so want that. You do not deserve to spend the rest of your life trapped as an animal for one mistake. I will leave you this letter, and return just before daybreak for your answer. 

Please think over my offer well, I hope to see you in the morning. 

Someone... wanted to help you? Someone saw through your scrutiny you were served by the Sect Leaders... the truth? That you weren't a threat, or had any ill will to harm anyone? There had to be a catch, there had to be something -- who would just willingly help you? Definitely not out of just blind trust.

Your stomach turned throughout the night, not even getting so much as a wink of sleep as your eyes were trained on the window, your evening sludge of dinner forgotten on the floor. As the evening darkness turned to a dark magenta and clementine hue, the morning sun shining through the small window, you raised up to your own two feet to pad toward the window.

You raised up on your tip toes, looking out of the barred hole as you curled your fingers around the cold metal and waited. You waited for what had felt like forever, your eyes heavy from the lack of sleep, and just when you felt like giving up on whatever hope had been brewing in your head over the night, you saw a pair of black hanfu boots, the lining instead of white cotton, was a shimmery silk laced gold. 

The robe to match could be mistaken for nothing else than a member of the Lanling Jin Sect and it swayed elegantly even from what you could see. The owner crouched down, and you nearly fainted when you saw who's face it belonged to.

"Y-Young Lord Jin?" You gasped, slipping off of your tip toes as you braced yourself against the stone walls of your prison cell. You must have gone truly mad- did your eyes really deceive you?

A small, barely present smile raised along the corners of his mouth, and you had to blink yourself out of your trance to come to terms with the fact that it truly was him. “I hope I have not troubled you due to my early risings, Cultivator (Y/L/N), I needed to arrive during the changing shifts of the dungeon guards.” He apologized, looking left and right before sitting down on his knees, bracing himself on the bars as he peered down at you. 

There was an awkward and tense silence between the two of you -- you watching him, a rosy flush coloring his cheeks as he tried his best to maintain eye contact with you. 

“So... did you sleep well?”

“What exactly is it you want from me, Young Lord Jin?”

Time. It was something you had plenty of, but in this current moment the anxiety was eating at you -- the apprehension of not knowing -- and your patience was wearing thin as he tried to skirt around the issue at hand.

Jin Zixuan cleared his throat, shaking his head. “I want nothing of you. I want to help you.” He answered, and alas, there was no tell-tale signs of dishonesty anywhere on him. His fingers couldn’t cross behind his back, as they were curled around the cold metal bars. His eyes didn’t shift side to side, as they were trained on you.

So either Jin Zixuan was a really good liar, or he was truthfully only trying to help.

Which prompted you to the question that had been at the forefront of your mind since the moment you received his letter. “Why?”

His brow furrowed, “because, I believe... you do not deserve to be here. Not trapped in here for the rest of your life as a common criminal-” he began, though you cut him off quickly. “How do you know I’m not? How do you know you can trust me not to abuse your position to get what I want? How do you know I will not, upon my freedom, raise another ghost puppet to do my bidding?!”

“Because of your eyes.”

Well that... truly stunned you. You weren’t sure how to counter that, but you didn’t need to, because he continued on in explanation.

“Your eyes show more emotion than you want. I was raised in a family where all I could do was sit and observe. I learned many things during my years, but one was how to spot someone evil.” He said tersely.

“An evil person, someone truly evil, is someone who could not care less of who gets caught in the crossfire of their wrongdoings. They enjoy the fear they inflict, the pain, the agony... But you,” he pointed towards you with an accusatory finger, though didn’t hold accusatory words, “you do not. Your eyes still have that sparkle of innocence.” He finished, but then added, “it’s quite... captivating, if I do say so myself.”

“Even if what you are saying is true-” you interjected, “how do you expect me to escape this prison? There is only one way in, and only one way out -- and it is through that door right there-” you pointed to the doorway cut out of stone, jailed by more bars.

Jin Zixuan smiled, “I’ve lived here my whole life. I know more ins and outs of this palace than you could imagine.” He pulled something from his outer robe as he stood, tossing down another letter into your hands as he looked around. “The guards have switched -- I will leave you more letters with my plans. Keep them hidden, keep them safe.” 

And then he was gone.

Days bled into nights, which morphed into the longest few months you had ever experienced. Having nothing to look at but your prison walls, the food becoming more and more inedible as the time went on; if it weren’t for your lingering hope of escape and your track keeping of each day, you were sure you would have gone mad.

But Jin Zixuan kept to his word. Visiting you every single day at sunrise on the dot, sometimes to simply just sit and talk, or to leave you more letters due to his rush to get done his princely deeds of the day. But in all the days you were stuck there, he had become the highlight of your day.

His smile, while regal and reserved, was always genuine. His voice would tell you stories of what was going on in the real world, stories you’d recall as you drifted to sleep each night. He was always helpful, never condescending... and it finally began to dawn on you that you might actually feel something for the Young Prince of Lanling Jin Sect.

This took a while for you to come to terms with. What if it had been just in your head? To be quite fair, he was the only man you had really had any contact with in... god knows how long. What if it was only your imagination that was making you picture the longing in his stares? Making you picture the somewhat suggestive sentences that hinted at wanting something more than just helping you?

But he was engaged... He had told you this much himself. To a woman who didn’t deserve how dismissive he had been to her as of late. That she was kind and sweet and caring, and deserved a better man to call a husband. It was hard for you to hide your dislike for the matter, to hide your jealousy, even as he expressed that it was only for show to keep the big sect families in harmony.

It was all a lot to process, and at the end of the day you at least knew to be true that you did in fact share some semblance of feelings for Jin Zixuan.

Months passed before the day had come. 

The day of your escape.

The change of guards would take longer due to the need for increased protection following the wedding ceremony of the Young Lord Jin Zixuan and his bride to be, Young Lady Jiang. You had only seen her a few times in passing, and only had heard seldom things about her -- but you knew one thing for sure: she definitely was lucky to be able to spend the rest of her life by his side. Something at this point you could only wish for.

A knock sounded from the barred door of your cell, and you lifted your head from the ground where you lay to see a familiar face. Jin Zixuan. He was dressed very well, in red robes as was custom for wedding ceremonies, and it honestly looked quite breathtaking on him.

The robe, which was normally a mix of golds and cream colored fabric, was a vibrant red that made his skin glow that much more than normal, it suited his tone well, and his hair was done up with the most royal braids you had ever seen. He looked amazing, and this was most likely the last image you would ever have of him.

At least it was a charming memory to have.

“Are you ready? We have little time, I’m awaiting for the word to begin the entry to the palace for the ceremony. I figure whilst everyone is busying themselves in the wedding hall... this would be the best time.” Jin Zixuan spoke, and you felt a heavy feeling in your heart. But nonetheless, you nodded. Young Lord Jin was not yours to have, he was already spoken for... but yet you still could see a pain behind his deep brown irises.

Jin Zixuan produced a small key from inside his sleeve, and for the first time since your imprisonment, you saw that cell door open and heard it creak. As you stepped outside, into the prison hall, you saw not a single guard was in sight. With a quick look you both shared together, he took your hand and began to lead you down the hall.

You were thankful for his aid, because even if you had managed to conspire this plan yourself, you would have gotten lost easily in the maze of halls. 

After what had seemed like forever, you were stopped by his arm curling around your form to jerk you back between two pillars against a stone wall. His hand came clasped over your mouth to silence any yelps that betrayed you from the surprise, and just as you were about to ask him why he had stopped you, when you heard it.

Guards. The clink of their swords. The sound of them talking. You heard at least two to your left, and even more to your right. You looked up at Jin Zixuan with a look of fear -- not for you, but for him. What would happen to him if he was caught helping a fugitive? A criminal?

He didn’t seem to share that same look of fear though, because he reached above him to pull a small pin from what looked like an embedding in the wall, and just like that, the wall behind you disappeared, only to be realigned in place soundlessly. 

It had taken you nearly off your feet, if it hadn’t been for the Young Prince’s grip on your waist holding you steady. As darkness encased the both of you, the only light allotted a few torches along the tunnel that lay before you, you felt him move before a rustling of fabric sounded, a dark blue robe being held out to you. 

“The less suspicious you seem when you get to the outside world, the better.” He explained, and after the robe was passed to your hands he turned around to politely allow you to change.

You quickly made work of your outer robe, ignoring the blush coloring your cheeks that you were thankful was hardly noticeable in the lighting, slipping on the disguise and making sure it was secure before clearing your throat. “I am finished, Young Lord Jin.” You said solemnly, your head downcast as he turned back around.

He nervously shuffled in place, holding a hand out to you. “Shall we?” He ushered, and you took it gingerly, feeling his warm, big hand, engulf your smaller, colder one as the two of you began to sprint down the tunnel. 

You were beginning to run out of breath, panting as you tried your best to keep up with him; but the fact of the matter was you had been confined to a dungeon prison cell for nearly a year in preparation for your escape, you weren’t in the best shape to run this way.

But it wasn’t endless, because at the end of the tunnel was a wall. Jin Zixuan reached up, grabbing onto a small string as he passed it to you. 

“If you pull this string, it will remove the pin above your head. The wall will shift open, just enough for you to sneak past... If you continue down the tunnel, it will let you out just outside of the city.” He said, his face alight with the torches next to him. He seemed... nervous, but not because of the big risk he was taking by busting you out.

“I know our time is almost up... but may I please be frank with you if only for a moment, Cultivator (Y/N)?” Your eyes were hopeful as you looked up at him, “of course.”

“We have spent quite a lot of time together over the months, and while I know it is very much frowned upon given our social statuses as well as my pre-arranged betrothal-”

“Young Lord Jin, please, do not hold back what it is you wish to say.” You cut him off, the anticipation nearly killing you.

He looked down at his hands clasped before him. “I... I have begun to grow a liking to you. An attachment I know is not socially acceptable. Once I become Ruler of the Lanling Jin Sect, your crimes would become nothing more than memory -- but that isn’t for a long, long time-“ He was rambling again, and you reached out a hand to steady his own.

You couldn’t quell the joy in your heart as you asked, “would you wait that long? Would you wait long enough til you were crowned leader to see me again?“ You inquired, and he blinked for a moment, before a big smile broke across his face. “I would.“

With all the courage you could muster, all things considered, you leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. They were soft and pillow-like, and he chased your own lips even as you pulled away, unable to hide your happiness and fondness as you pulled on the string. 

“Then I suppose our worries of never seeing each other again are nothing to be thought of then, don’t you, Jin Zixuan?”

And just like that, you were running out to your freedom, chasing the future where you could walk in the sun with Jin Zixuan.

general masterlist

[cicada-bones]

The Warrior and the Embers

Chapter 34: Celebration

Just a warning, this one got wayyyy more angsty than I was originally expecting. 

Masterlist / Ao3 / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Rowan’s footsteps were light as he padded through the mist-shrouded trees, Aelin by his side. The winds told him that Gavriel was now long gone, having shifted into his lion and headed off back to Doranelle.

Rowan had heard Gavriel’s last words, though they had barely been a brush at his back. “Good luck Rowan.” And he knew that he should’ve said something in return, should’ve said goodbye. But he hadn’t. Gavriel had nearly let Aelin die for them, and that wasn’t something Rowan could soon overlook.

That morning, he had asked Aelin about what happened. Actually, he had practically forced the information out of her. Eventually, she told him that only Gavriel had hesitated before running into the castle. That everyone else had just ran past her.

Then, Aelin had insisted on leaving Mistward, even though she should definitely still be in bed. Her muscles seemed strong, but her breaths were uneven, and every now and then, her hands seemed to tremble slightly.

Rowan cast Aelin a sidelong look as she hesitated before mounting a fallen tree. She stuck her tongue out at him.

Rowan just sighed, and continued to lead her through the undergrowth. He probably couldn’t have kept her inside even if she had been falling over her own feet.

Though this diversion was against his wishes, he was just a little bit excited to show Aelin this place. He had come across it on one of his many flights through the mountains – a secluded pool, fed by a small waterfall, surrounded by flat, sun-warmed rocks.

He heard a small sigh dance through Aelin’s lips as they breached through the final line of trees and the pool came into view. The corners of his mouth twitched. The pool was even more beautiful than he remembered – it was lit up with shafts of golden light, and the sounds of bird calls echoed in the trees above, joining the tumble of the waterfall.

Rowan sat on a warm, flat stone, pulled off his boots, and rolled up his pants to dip his feet in the water. The mountain stream-fed pool was delectably cool in the summer sun.

Aelin moved to sit beside him, her face scrunched tight to hold in the groans she obviously wanted to set loose.

Rowan was frowning, but once Aelin spotted the disapproval written on his face, she just gave him a look that clearly was daring him to order her back to bedrest. Rowan had to hold in another sigh.

A few moments passed as Aelin rolled up her own clothes and dipped her feet into the water, her gaze searching up through the oaks to find the source of the birdsong.

Pain lined her face, exhaustion darkening the bags underneath her eyes. Aelin was hurting, no matter how much she wanted to hide it from him. She was hurting because of the King of Adarlan.

Rowan’s voice was quiet, but clear. “There is no undoing what happened with Narrok. Once the world hears that Aelin Galathynius fought against Adarlan, they will know you are alive. He will know you are alive, and where you are, and that you do not plan to cower. He will hunt you for the rest of your life.”

Aelin’s face didn’t change. “I accepted that fate from the moment I stepped outside the barrier.” She kicked at the water, causing an avalanche of ripples to echo across the pool. But the small movement also made her hiss in discomfort, her jaw tight with pain.

Rowan silently handed her the skein of pain-killing tonic, knowing that it was useless to ask her to head back to Mistward to rest. As she drank, Rowan could see her muscles relaxing, her soul seeming to sigh in relief.

They sat in silence for a time, letting the forest pool calm their whirring thoughts. It was nice to let go of the worry that had been so all-consuming these past days, to have a moment of peace together, where the past and the future didn’t feel so close.

But then, Aelin gasped.

Her eyes turned inward, and she no longer seemed entirely present. No longer aware of anything other than whatever revelation she was experiencing.

Rowan waited, hoping for explanations to spring unprompted from her lips. But as the seconds passed and she remained silent and unseeing, fear began to course through Rowan.

“What is it?” he asked.

“The third Wyrdkey – ” Aelin swore, breaking off.

“Aelin.” Rowan could hear the fear and hurt in his own voice. “Tell me what you learned.”

Her lips tightened. “Not while you are bound to her.”

“I am bound to her forever.”

“I know.” With that small phrase, Aelin shrouded the bright pool in gray, pulling the future back into their small moment of peace.

Rowan leaned over his knees, dipping his hands into the pool. “You’re right. I don’t want you to tell me. Any of it.”

“I hate that,” she breathed. “I hate her.”

Rowan’s jaw clenched, and he tried to not hear those words, or at least, tried not to remember them. They would only be another weapon Maeve could use against her. Instead he looked over at Goldryn, at the only weapon he could give her to help her. At the only thing that might keep her safe.

That morning, over breakfast, Aelin had explained the sword’s history to him. She had figured it out, had found the ring, and knew who it belonged to. She had pieced together the truth hidden in Emrys’ stories.

What was yet to be known was whether or not she would be able to use it to her advantage.

Silence built between them, like sheets of water, or clouds of mist. But then, Aelin broke it. “I have never told anyone this story. No one in the world knows it. But it’s mine,” she blinked furiously, sadness filling her scent, “and it’s time for me to tell it.”

Rowan leaned back on the rock, bracing his palms behind him. She couldn’t tell him whatever she had learned about the Wyrdkey, and though it hurt, he understood. So instead, she was giving him what she could – her story. The truth of her.

“Once upon a time,” Aelin said softly, her voice as light as the wind itself, “in a land long since burned to ash, there lived a young princess who loved her kingdom…very much.”

She told him everything. Everything that she had withheld, all the things in her past that she had not been able to face. And how the creatures, the Valg demons, had forced her to confront them.

Aelin told him of growing up in Terrasen, held fast in the wings of a mighty kingdom. Told him of a heart that was told to burn more softly. She told him of loneliness, and fear. But also of love.

And then, the pain of losing it all. Of waking up soaking wet in the blood of her parents. Of running, of hiding, and the indescribable horror of being found.

Aelin told him of the sacrifice of Lady Marion.

Of running through the snow and diving into the icy river. And of being saved, by the most unlikely person imaginable.

Aelin’s words were a gift given on golden hands. She gave Rowan her story freely and openly, without hesitation or any misgivings. She smiled, and laughed, and cried. And when the tears began to overflow, Rowan wiped them off her cheeks.

When she finished, Rowan merely passed Aelin more of the tonic. She smiled at him, sad but true. And Rowan felt those final whispers of that iron cage fall away into mist. Her magic swirled around them, tendrils of power pulsing in the sun-warmed air.

Rowan had kept his vow; Aelin was finally free.

He smiled back at her.

After a moment, Aelin held out her hand, her palm open over the still pool. And slowly, a droplet of water the size of a marble rose from the surface and into her waiting fingers.

Rowan smiled wider. “No wonder your sense of self-preservation is so pathetic, if that’s all the water you can conjure.”

He flicked her chin, and she grinned at him through her falling tears, sending the droplet splashing onto his face.

Rowan tossed her into the pool. A moment later, laughing, he jumped in himself.

···

A week passed, in toil and in celebration, and during that time, Aelin began to heal. But it was more than that – a weight was taken off of her shoulders. Her eyes were brighter, her limbs quicker, her steps lighter. And she was more beautiful than ever before.

That night, now that most of the demi-Fae had recovered, and grieved for their dead, Emrys was hosting a celebration. There would be food, drinks, fire, and dancing, and while Rowan wasn’t particularly thrilled about going himself, it was nice to see everyone in Mistward looking forwards to something. Especially Aelin.

What it really revealed to him was just how fond he had become of the small fortress and all of its residents. People for whom he had been indifferent to at best, had suddenly become as dear to him as the Fae he was closest to in Doranelle. Closer, even.

Emrys and Malakai and Luca had become significant figures in his life, no matter how strange that was to admit to himself. And seeing the three of them look at each other with joy in their eyes again, a family once more, warmed Rowan’s icy heart.

Emrys placed the feast on rickety wooden tables in the field where they had celebrated Beltane, those short weeks ago, and demi-Fae got to work arranging bonfires, ale, and music for the coming festivities.

Rowan and Aelin walked together up to the meadow, in companionable silence. Aelin was wearing a loose cotton dress that Rowan had never seen her in before. It didn’t fit her particularly well – loose in places and tight in others, probably borrowed. But it looked like it had been spun by pure sunlight.

The gown was simple, everyday. As she walked, the fabric shifted to reveal her common leather boots. But it also was cut to reveal the whole spread of her shoulders, framing her delicate collarbones beautifully. She looked like a shaft of gold hidden beneath the green tree boughs.

Rowan knew that Aelin had less than no interest in him in that way. But it was almost as though she had worn the dress to torment him specifically.

As they approached the field, music wafted to them on the air, and Aelin began to speed up her pace, until she was almost running through the trees, her golden hair wild and loose on the wind. She laughed, the sound wrapped in delight.

Aelin danced that night, and for the first time, Rowan felt he truly understood why she had been chosen as the Heir of Fire. It was because she was flame itself –bright and twisting and whirling and free. Wildness incarnate, touched by Mala herself.

She danced all through the darkness, her feet lighter than air as they floated over the ground. Often she had partners, but most of the time she was alone, spinning before fires of her own making. Flames filled with colors that Rowan wasn’t sure he’d ever seen before.

And then, late into the night, Aelin looked over to where he stood in the shadows, and their eyes met. And all of a sudden he knew. Her face was filled with that wild joy, her turquoise eyes framed with liquid gold, and he just knew.

Rowan loved her.

He had run into the Valg darkness because he was in love with her.

The newly-formed bond in his chest almost seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, relaxing into that love. But what immediately followed after was grief. Grief, and a fear so strong that Rowan found himself turning away from Aelin and walking back over to the other side of the clearing.

Soon though, very soon, Rowan found himself wishing that he had stayed where he was. For through the sleepy crowd, Rowan could just hear the voices of Emrys and Malakai having a quiet, though strained, discussion about…him.

“I talked with the sentries who were atop the battlements that night, and they told me that it was all true, they are carranam.” Malakai said.

Emrys’ voice was so soft as to be almost unintelligible. “Really? Even now, it’s so hard to believe…”

“It is the only way they could have defeated those creatures.”

“And Elentiya, a fire-user. I knew that she had to be powerful, what with the Queen coming to see her and all. But her mother had water magic, so I never thought – ”

“I know.” Malakai turned to look at the princess, who was currently hand in hand with a young female, as they laughed and twirled around a bonfire that was pulsing bright blue. “We owe her all our lives.”

“We owe both of them our lives. The Prince also.”

The old commander nodded. “Yes, and not only for destroying those demons. If his friends had not come…I’m not sure we would have survived the soldiers’ onslaught.”

Emrys nodded, his eyes downcast. “Still, I am worried, love. It almost feels as though ever since the second those two came to Mistward I’ve been worried for them.”

“They will likely leave soon, and then your worries can cease.”

Emrys’ jaw clenched. “If only. I can only imagine what they will be walking into when they leave here for Doranelle.”

“There’s nothing you can do about it, love.”

Emrys shook his head, his eyes far away. “She’s so young. And he is old.”

Malakai nodded, his eyes tight.

“And he is bound to her.”

Another nod.

“And I can’t help but think…that those soldiers were sent here for more than just an attack on the fortress. It can’t be a coincidence that she was here, Adarlan’s greatest enemy, when Adarlan attacked.”

Malakai pursed his lips, but remained quiet. Emrys sighed.

“Alright, alright. I’ll stop. Would you like…”

Rowan stopped listening, heading deeper into the crowd. Unable to stop the falling sensation that nearly rendered him dizzy.

They were right. Though this time, the reminder cut into him like a knife. There was nothing he could offer her, nothing but more chains. And never before had that felt like such a tragedy.

Rowan loved her, and she would never know. And even if they lived through the next few days, he would never see her again. He loved her, but it was a love doomed to loss. Perhaps it was no more than he deserved, to love again, only for it to be taken away. No more than he deserved for allowing his mate to die.

Rowan walked out into the trees, turning away from the golden festival behind him, his vision just beginning to blur. He shifted, then flew out into the night, his tears becoming streaks of silver in the moonlight. His hawk wheeled around, heading back towards the meadow. Where Rowan caught one last glimpse of the golden princess, dancing wild and free, before soaring off into the mountains beyond.

···

Fenrys knelt. Beside his brother and fellow commanders. Before the queen who held his heart in her iron fist. He bowed his wolf’s head, his nose brushing the stones. Maeve smiled.

“I see you have returned from your ill-begotten journey.” The smile twisted, becoming a blade. “And you have brought Lorcan and Vaughan back with you. All the better.”

Her midnight gown shifted as she re-crossed her legs, delicate ankles peeking below the layers of chiffon. For a moment, Maeve just looked at them, and the air crackled with invisible tension. The desperation of the last breath beneath the guillotine blade.

Even from across the throne room, Fenrys could feel the dark Queen’s excitement. She reveled in her power over them. And for her, the anticipation was every bit as delectable as the feast.

“Of course, the sentries who were on duty that afternoon have all been disposed of.” Maeve studied her nails, casual as anything. “I would be unable to trust them to carry out their duties after such an egregious lapse.” Fenrys could have sworn her eyes flicked over to Gavriel and back again, her lips twitching.

The male was rigid. His every muscle taut. The waves of grief and guilt that pulsed from him were almost overpowering.

The weight in Fenrys’ gut solidified. Something was different this time around – something was sharper. More immediate, and intense. Maeve wasn’t reacting the way he had expected.

Fenrys’ paws slid over the stone as he shifted slightly, his wolf’s nails clacking lightly on the granite.

Maeve’s eyes met his. “I might have expected as much from you, Fenrys. Always pulling at the leash. You would leap at the chance to leave Doranelle. Even if it were only to escape my clutches for a few hours.” She leaned forwards, a cold laugh twisting her cheeks. “Betraying me was just a convenient bonus.”

Lorcan flinched. Though still, none of them spoke a word.

“But you, Connall. You, I was surprised about.” Maeve’s voice lilted in all the right places, her eyes promising violence. And delighting in that promise. Fenrys’ hackles began to rise, fury pooling in his gut. Fury at his own inability to do anything to prevent whatever was coming for them.

“I knew you cared for Rowan, knew you looked up to him. But to choose him, over me? Over your Queen?” A careful pause. “Obviously, I miscalculated.”

Then her gaze landed on Lorcan. And it was like she dealt him a physical blow, solely with the tilt of her head, the flicker of a frown. Lorcan nearly crumpled to his knees. His black eyes swum with pleading, with prayers, with that dark love of his.

Bile rose in Fenrys’ throat.

“And you. My second.” A pause where she carefully looked Lorcan up and down. Pure malice, undiluted and visceral, smearing over him in that look. “Lorcan Salvaterre.” The male tensed, and his silent pleas dropped from his lips with a nearly audible clink.

“Stand. And explain yourself.”

His commander got slowly to his feet, carefully putting one foot in front of the other. His gaze was fixed on the pale white stone of Maeve’s throne as he began to speak.

“We were halfway between the sea and the mountains when the letter reached us. I had caught up with Vaughn earlier that day, and we decided to stay at an inn for the night.” A jut of his chin. “Rowan made it clear in his letter that if we did not come to his aid, he, and everyone within Mistward, was going to die. So we went.”

“Just like that?” An arch of a sculpted brow.

Lorcan slowly nodded.

“Did you not consider, that had I deemed it necessary to assist the demi-Fae, I would have dispatched you myself?” Feigned innocence dripped from her words like poisoned honey. “Or did you in fact think me unaware of their plight?”

Lorcan only breathed, slow and steady, his lips tightly pursed.

Maeve’s eyes narrowed as she read the defiance there. “Evidently not. What happened once you arrived?”

A short swallow. “It took us all night to reach Mistward. At some point, we met up with Gavriel, Fenrys, and Connall. But once we got to the valley on the mountainside, it was already swathed in shadow. Four creatures were guarding the entrance, and attacking the fortress’ wards with dark magic. I attacked it with my own, but it did nothing. Whatever those creatures are, they are not of this world.”

Fenrys watched Maeve’s face closely, searching for any indication of recognition there. He found none, though her features were carefully schooled into blankness. He felt his own eyes narrow.

“Then, a golden light pierced through the veil of black, creating a bridge to let us through. A bridge made by Aelin Galathynius.”

This time, Fenrys saw a flicker of something akin to fear flash in the dark Queen’s eyes. Fear, and desire. What did the princess really mean to his Queen?

Still, Maeve kept silent, waiting for some unknown cue.

Lorcan swallowed once again, his face darkening. “We easily overpowered the soldiers in the tunnels, and Rowan ran back to join Aelin before the front gates. And together, they destroyed the creatures.”

Maeve’s eyes narrowed into deadly slits. “How?”

A shallow breath. Fenrys felt as the blood oath pulled at Lorcan’s soul, putting it under the edge of a knife-blade. “They – they are carranam.” Another breath. “Rowan gave Aelin his power, and she used it to melt the creatures from the inside out.”

Maeve leaned back into her throne, her features becoming contemplative. “Carranam. I see…” Her gaze danced over the ceiling, seemingly piecing together bits of information. “Hmm. And after?”

Lorcan’s words came easier now. “Only fifteen demi-Fae were lost. We put the surviving Adarlanian soldiers in the dungeons, but they took poison rather than risk being interrogated. Both Aelin Galathynius and Rowan survived without undue injuries.”

“And soon, they will return to Doranelle?”

Lorcan nodded.

“Good. Well then!” Maeve clapped her hands sharply, and a dark figure appeared from the hallway behind her throne. “Time to get on with it. Cairn – ” Fenrys’ stomach twisted violently, “ – why don’t you hand those over to Fenrys and Gavriel. Fenrys, shift.”

Fenrys felt as his body transformed without him asking it to, obeying his Queen’s every wish. He watched his paws become hands, felt clothes wrap over skin, all the while feeling very far away.

Cairn handed him an iron tipped whip with a smile, and Fenrys took it.

Maeve’s eyes met his, and Fenrys felt dread coating every one of his nerve endings. That was a look he understood. He knew it as intimately as anything. That face graced every one of his nightmares.

“Fenrys,” Maeve said delicately, “Stand behind Connall.”

There was an agony-filled second where Fenrys locked his muscles. Where he refused to move a single inch. It felt as though his soul was being slowly shredded by a grater.

Maeve’s smile widened, and the grating becoming a searing, ripping, furious agony – and he was walking, foot over foot, to stand behind his brother. But the pain did not go away.

Fenrys wasn’t really listening, but he sensed as Gavriel moved to stand behind Vaughn, and Cairn behind Lorcan. Watched as three silver tunics dropped onto the stones, one by one by one. Watched the bare flesh of their arched backs pebble in the chill air.

Fenrys knew what was coming. But that did not make it any easier to do. Only easier to keep silent, and still. As if the quiet could make it not real. As if it could help them all pretend it wasn’t happening.

There was a ruffle of silk as Maeve leaned back into her throne. “I command you all to continue until I say otherwise. Cairn – count the lashes.”

Fenrys retreated into the darkest, quietest part of his mind as his right arm raised automatically, preparing to strike. Preparing for the iron tipped whip to rent the flesh of his brother. The only person he truly cared for in all the world.

Connall was stiller than death.

Fenrys sensed, rather than saw, the vile sneer on Cairn’s face as he raised his own whip, and said, “One.”

Fenrys’ last thought before the iron descended was of the princess. And of the horrors that awaited her in the City of the Rivers.

···

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[randomfandomimagine]

Holiday (Cloud Strife x Reader)

Characters: Cloud Strife

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII

Tags: Reader Insert, Gender Neutral Reader, Flirting, Playfulness

Warnings: Hardcore fluff

Word Count: 2,9k words

Requested by anon: Hi!! I'd like to request a ficlet of Cloud and female reader spending a day at the beach in Costa del Sol, I'd love to see Cloud's reaction to seeing her in a bikini and maybe trying to cover her up or protect her from other guys' stares! They could even go swimming or play games together! And then maybe they could go to the Gold Saucer and try the gondola ride or other attractions? I can see Cloud trying to win her a teddy bear but refusing to admit he did it for her haha ;) // Ooh I have another idea, what about Cloud and reader doing a run in the Chocobos? Like maybe Cloud could teach her how to ride a Chocobo, or they could ride one together and maybe fall to the ground together hehe ;) thank you for considering my requests, hopefully any of them will inspire you and I hope you feel better soon 

A/N: I struggled a bit with this one for some reason, it’s a bit messy and quick paced, but I think it turned out pretty cute and fluffy! Enjoy :D

You knocked on the bathroom door, where Cloud was getting changed. After getting no response, you knocked again, growing impatient. How long did it take to put on some swim trunks? You couldn’t wait to go to the beach!

“Cloud!” You whined, also excited to see your boyfriend in a swimsuit. “Are you done?”

The door suddenly opened, and he stood there looking at you. His hands fell on his hips and he nodded his head in your direction.

“Ready” You had to chuckle at his words, because he still wore his tank top and carried his sword. The only change in his attire was the swimming shorts, he even wore his boots.

“You’re unbelievable” You walked behind him. “Taking a sword to the beach?”

“Just in case-” When he noticed you were trying to pick it up, he jolted up. “Careful!”

You yelped when you felt overwhelmed by the weight. Luckily, Cloud moved fast enough to support you before you could fall over. He put the weapon away, eaving it against the wall, and turned back to you again.

His eyes fell over your body, to the curves hinted under your sarong, but just for a moment as he blushed and quickly looked up into your eyes again. Sometimes he was adorable. Now that you were dating, you didn’t expect him to be as shy as usual, but he hadn’t changed.

Trying to save him the embarrassment, you picked up the bag where you kept everything you could need -towels, sunscreen, cool beverages... -and threw it over your shoulder. Before you could take even one step carrying it, however, Cloud took it from you to save you the effort. He didn’t say a word, but the gesture endeared you even more to him.

“Come on!” You held his hand, dragging him out of the room with you. “The beach is waiting for us!”

You started running, excited to finally reach it. Surprisingly, Cloud played into your game and began jogging by your side, not letting go of your hand either. Soon the salty scent of the sea reached you, and you smiled to yourself. Luckily, the beach wasn’t too far, because you were already panting from the dash.

Once you reached the sand, you didn’t lose one second. While Cloud took his shirt off and lay the towels down, you got rid of your sarong and flip flops and watched the soothing sight of the waves calmly crashing on the shore.

“Cloud” You turned to him, slightly bashful as you tried not to stare at his bare chest. “Wanna go for a swim?”

“Maybe later” His eyes didn’t meet you, too busy focused on the people around you.

Following his gaze, you realized what had him so upset. Certain people had no problem in taking a good look at you in your swimsuit. It made you self-conscious but you didn’t really mind. You weren’t the only one they were looking at anyway. Turning back to your boyfriend to allow yourself to really take in his slim but strong physique, you understood why.

Suddenly, he pulled you flat against him. Bracing yourself, your hands instinctively flew to his stomach. You could feel his defined abs against your palm, causing you to blush. But he didn’t notice, tightly wrapping his arms around you to hide your exposed skin.

“Cloud?” You peered up at him, finally locking eyes.

“They’re staring” He replied, frowning as his blue eyes fell over you. “Should’ve brought my sword”

“You don’t think people stare at you too, handsome?” You giggled, amused by his pout. “Let them look, you’re the only one who can get close”

He paused for a moment, but then sighed and loosened his grip on you.

“You’re right, sorry... I just got-”

“Jealous?” 

“You’re making this real hard on me, Y/N...”

You laughed a little, and repressed the urge to pinch his cheek. You had been teasing him enough already and you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. Instead, you pointed a thumb over your shoulder. 

“I’ll just go to the water for a bit” As you took a few steps back, Cloud nodded his head and sat down on the towel. “You’re welcome to join me whenever you want”

“Got it” Was his dry response, despite the fact that his eyes never left you.

You walked slowly, feeling the drastic shift between the hot sun kissed sand and the fresh ocean water under your toes. You feet settled on the solid wet sand under them as the water softly went up and down with the tide, circling your ankles and then retreating once more. 

Walking further once you were a bit accustomed to the lower temperature, the water now reached up to your knees. A wave returned to the shore, making you stumble with its force. Turning to Cloud and smiling to yourself in pure enjoyment of the moment, you saw he was still looking at you.

You energetically waved at him. Seemingly annoyed at your playfulness, he only stared. You stuck your tongue out at him and waved again. Resigned, he waved back at you. He was always trying so hard to play it cool... Well, you were determined to enjoy every second of your holiday. 

Before you could turn around to face the horizon, however, a bigger wave came behind you, roughly crashing into you and throwing you to the ground. When you glanced at him, Cloud’s expression had changed from annoyed to worried as he ran to you. You held your head low, too amused by his exaggerated response.

“You okay?!” He urgently pulled you to your feet, his hands gentle around you, and you still struggled not to laugh. “Y/N...”

Taking your behavior the wrong way, he scooped you into his arms, concerned. Still trying to suffocate your laughter, you hid your face on his neck.

“Talk to me, are you hurt?” His words broke you completely, because how could you be actually hurt from that? It was really sweet, but also hilarious to you. He was always so dramatic.

“I’m not hurt, I’m...” 

“Are you... laughing?” Cloud let out a shaky breath, piercing eyes focused on you.

“Sorry... I’m sorry” You heard him loudly sigh as he gently carried you still.

“Don’t do that” He complained, and you could almost hear his heart still racing.

“Why, were you worried?” You looked right into his eyes and cutely tilted your head at him. “Huh, boyfriend?”

“Y/N...” His voice held a tone of vexation as he gently lowered you into the ground.

As soon as your bare feet touched the wet sand once more, you began running around him.

“Are you mad at me?”

“A little”

“Really? Watcha gonna do?”

“You’ll see”  

“You’ll have to catch me first, big boy!”

You splashed water at him, trying to finally get him to open up a bit. Knowing Cloud, he was holding himself back. You could see it in his eyes, that he wanted to have fun with you. Because he was stoic, strong, serious and hermetic. But he was also kind, sensitive, thoughtful and shy. 

“Stop it” Giving in, Cloud chased after you. Utterly astonished by this, you screamed as you ran away from him. The water around your ankles slowed you down.

When he caught up to you, Cloud took you by the hips and easily lifted you off your feet. He carried you back to the dry hot sand while you yelped and laughed at the top of your lungs. You even heard him chuckle in response to your noises.

“That’ll teach you” He said in your ear, and suddenly his voice was playful.

You laughed when he lightly squeezed your sides, effectively tickling you. You turned around to be face to face with him and pouted your bottom lip. As you expected, he yielded at the sight of your adorable expression.

“War’s over” You joked, brushing your lips against him. He immediately relaxed under your touch, giving into the brief kiss. “I win”

“You’re killing me here” Mildly embarrassed by your interactions, it was him who pouted at you know. “Why did I agree to this?”

“It was your idea!” 

“Yeah, ‘cause I know how much you wanted to go on a holiday together”

Cloud swore under hsi breat at the look of utter adoration you gave him in response to those words. He knew you well enough to realize it would only earn him more teasing. 

“You did it for me? Aw, Cloud” You put your arms around his neck and hugged him. “Don’t pout! Enjoy yourself, silly”

“Stop it with the nickames” He frowned, actually sounding upset.

For once you started to believe he was legitimaly having a bad time. Your face fell at the thought that he was mindlessly letting you drag him along but was loathing every second of it.

“Y-You don’t like them?” 

“I didn’t say...”

For a moment, you locked eyes. It was the first time since you arrived, even after your long journey, that you really connected with each other’s emotions. Cloud suddenly understood why you were so excited and eager. It wasn’t because of the holidays, or the beach, or all the new things. It was because you were sharing them with him. And you saw that he wasn’t being broody just because, he was trying to act cool as usual, but that he was truly flustered and slightly overwhelmed by everything.

“If you don’t like the beach we can go back to the hotel and-”

“It’s not that” His hand lovingly cupped your cheek. “Maybe dial it down a bit?”

You paused, taken aback by the sweetness in his voice and the amorous look in his beautiful eyes. Then you smiled and nodded your head.

“Sure” You chuckled, pressing a hand against his and reveling on his warm touch. “And you could let yourself go a bit more”

“Not happening” Cloud turned his face away, but you could see a flirtatious grin playing at the corner of his lips. He was trying, going along with your demeanor.

A sudden wave of fondness for him hit you. He could be so sweet... You could tell how much he cared, how much he loved you. And it made your heart sing.

“C’mon, grumpy! You’re allowed to have fun!” You took his hand and pulled at it. “It’s only you and me now, relax”

“Fine” He gave in, beginning to walk alongside the shore. “Only for you”

-

Cloud clicked his tongue, turning to you in defeat. You watched him in curiosity, surprised that he seemed to enjoy those little games so much. When you suggested to go to Gold Saucer, you didn’t expect it to actually become part of the plan, and you certainly didn’t expect Cloud to get so into it.

“I’ll try again” Was all he said, buying another ticket.

“Since when are you so proud, Cloud?” You teased him, nudging him a little.

He didn’t respond, focusing on his aim. However, before he threw the ball at the bottles, you noticed how his eyes kept drifting to the big teddy bear at the top of the display. 

You smiled, reading his mind and the reason behind his stubbornness. Endeared by this, you leaned closer to kiss him in the cheek. He frowned and looked at you, but you only giggled and shrugged.

“For good luck” You said as an excuse, knowing he wouldn’t admit his reasons so you wouldn’t admit yours. 

The start of a smile grew on his lips, but it never settled there as the concetration took over his features. You watched in expectation, following his every move as he prepared to throw the ball. When he did, you happilly cheered after it collided with the bottles and knocked them all down.

“Congratulations” The stand keeper reluctantly said, clearly annoyed that Cloud won. “Choose your prize”

Your boyfriend didn’t hesitate, silently pointing a finger to the teddy bear. As soon as the man gave it to him, Cloud humbly handed it to you. 

“Was that why you were so determined?” You asked, hugging the plushie, even if you knew the answer already. “So you could win me something?”

“No...” He simply replied, averting his gaze. “I knew I almost had it”

“Thanks anyway” You winked at him, which was enough to fluster him.

“Welcome” He muttered, although his voice sounded slightly deeper than usual.

“Let’s go on a ride!” You took him by the arm, clutching the teddy bear in your free one. 

You ran at top speed with him closely trailing behind you, dragged along. When you reached the entrance of the roller coaster, you were almost vibrating in excitement. The ride stopped before you on the rails, and you turned to Cloud.

“Hey...” You saw how he eyed it warily, and how his muscles tensed under your grip. “Something wrong?”

“Um...” He blinked repeatedly, then turning to glance at you. “No”

To further demonstrate, Cloud climbed in before you. Hesitating yourself, you watched him for a moment. He tightly held on to the security bar while he waited for you to get in. Knowing him as you did, it felt like he was dreading the moment the ride started.

“Everything okay, Cloud?” You slowly sat by him, placing the plushie between you two. “You look a little-”

“I’m fine” He rushed to say, even if he didn’t look at you.

You opened your mouth to reply, but never got to say anything. Just then the attraction started. Cloud gasped in anticipation, but you yelped in excitement. Still, you couldn’t hep but to glance at him with the corner of your eye. You knew better than to think he was scared of rollercoasters, it seemed unlike him. Then what was the problem?

The issue momentarily left your mind as its speed claimed your attention, making you scream at the top of your lungs and throw your arms into the air. To add on to the many and incredibly emotions of the day, the adrenaline began racing through your veins. The ride climb upwards, only to throw you down again even faster. It made your heart race in a way only Cloud had before. You were thrown upside down with the last loop as the path went flat again and the rocky ride came to a halt.

Still coming off that high, you stumbled out of the ride. When you turned around to share your excitement, you looked over at Cloud. You saw the state he was in and realized it was worse than you thought.

“Ugh...” He struggled to stand, and he was extremely pale.

“Are you okay, Cloud?” Worried, you rushed to hold him up. He appreciated your support, resting his arm over your shoulders and resting part of his weight on you.

“Dizzy...” He held a hand to his forehead, shutting his eyes tight.

“Let’s sit down for a moment” You wrapped your arm around his waist, walking with him towards a close by bench. He took it slow but you were patient.

As soon as you neared the bench, he plopped down on it and groaned.

“Has this happened before?” You asked him, kindly stroking his arm.

Keeping his eyes closed, Cloud weakly nodded his head. You grit your teeth, equal times endeared that he kept it silent for your sake and annoyed that he put himself through that knowing the result.

“Why didn’t you tell me something?” You gently took at his arm, easying him down until his head rested over your lap. “Lay down, Cloud, as long as you need to”

Worried and empathetic to his unwell, you softly caressed his hair. Cloud tightened an arm around his stomach, letting the other one fall limply off the side of the bench.

“No...” He uttered, making an effort. “Don’t wanna ruin your day”

“It’s not ruined as long as I’m with you” You comforted him. “Besides, it’s not fun unless you’re having fun too”

He groaned again, and you hated to see him like that. Cloud parted his lips, but he must have been feeling so sick that he didn’t manage to say anything. You took mental note of his motion sickness to avoid it in the future.

“Can you do something to make it better?”

“No... Just wait until it passes”

“Okay, just breathe and try to relax” Hoping it worked, you put your teddy bear on his chest. “Mini Cloud here will look after you too”

“Mini... Cloud?” He repeated in confusion, opening one eye.

“Yeah, because he’s soft just like you, softie” You joked, and were pleasantly surprised to see him smiling in response.

Another wave of dizziness hit him, and he groaned yet again as he closed his eyes tight. One of his arms did wrap around the plushie, though.

“There’s no rush, Cloud” As a comforting gesture, you rested your hand over his chest. “We’ll wait until you feel okay” 

Continuing to sink your fingers into his soft hair, you didn’t stop stroking it. He didn’t complain, and in fact his tense expression relaxed slightly. After a few more seconds of silence in which his spinning world settled, his free hand fell over yours.

“Thank you, Y/N” The way he said it, you knew there was something more behind his words. Something that he was saying for the first time to you, and that caused your heart to skip a beat. Three words that, although different from the traditional ones, meant the same thing.

“You too, Cloud”

-

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[stones-x-bones]

Morning Cap || Kyle and Bex

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @darkh0wl and @inbextween SUMMARY: Bex takes Kyle on a hike through Starfall Valley to find the meteor that crashed. They’re not the only ones looking for something. CONTENT: Gore

Bex had made it to the trailhead early, because of course she had. That’s the kind of person she was when she didn’t have anyone to hold her back. She wanted to be on time, she wanted to be early. She wanted to be early for being early. She paced around the entrance for a while, remembering that Kyle was notoriously late for...everything. He’d been late last time they hung out, he’d been late, even, for sneaking into her house, but she really hoped he wasn’t going to be late today/ Today was important. She was excited to be here today and they had things to do. She was rolling back and forth on her heels when she spotted his car pulling around the bend. Perking up, she bounced over to the trailhead again, where it met the parking lot and waved him down, unable to keep herself from jogging over to meet him at his car, already eager. She wanted to get going, because she wanted to ignore how heavy she’d felt when she’d woken up this morning. The edges of a migraine were pushing into her head, but it was probably just from her lack of sleep the past few nights. It had to be. She’d been doing a lot more activities than sleeping, and while she didn’t mind, she supposed something like that would make her feel more tired than usual. “Hurry up,” she said as she watched him climb out of his car, “we’re losing daylight!” A tease, mostly because it was the middle of the afternoon, but she could see clouds moving in, and in this weird weather surge, that meant more snow. Her boots crunched awkwardly on the half melted bits that were there from yesterday’s sudden storm. “You’re like hiking, right?”

This had been a mistake. Kyle should not have agreed to go with Bex to the giant rock in the middle of the woods. The last time he’d talked to someone about a potentially toxic environment… He shuddered at the thought of what hell Adam and Nell had gone through. He had to remind himself that this was different. This was right in their backyard of White Crest and only potentially toxic. He didn’t love their odds. When Kyle rolled up to the parking lot, Bex was already there. He glanced at the clock on his dash. He was not significantly late; you may as well call him on time. But Bex was early as ever and running towards his Jeep. Kyle huffed a small sigh as he watched her approach in the side mirror. He swung his door open and smiled at Bex. “Eager, are we?” He pulled his bag from the passenger seat to his lap and started checking that he had everything. When Bex tried to rush him, he quirked an eyebrow and slowed down just a little. “Okay, okay, chill! God, you’re impatient.” He eyed the ground, nervous to just hop out. The way he’d been feeling--well, to be fair, he wasn’t feeling so bad. But his sense of balance and his center of gravity were way off. Bex ripped him from his own hesitation as she continued to speak. “Hiking? Yeah, I hike.” Kyle swung his legs out onto the ground and promptly tumbled forward, face planting in the partially melted snow. “Ow.”

Bex backed up as Kyle stepped out and immediately fell. Hmm, this was going to be more difficult than she thought. Maybe she should just go alone. But Kyle was already here and now that he was, there was no way he was going to let her go alone. She grabbed for him on the ground and tugged him back up. “Wow, and people call me clumsy,” she grinned, tugging on his arm. “You can lean on me if you need.” She wasn’t notoriously good at staying on her feet, either, but she seemed to be doing better than Kyle. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this excited, and she was still eager to outrun the weariness that was threatening to take her. She pulled him up towards the trailhead and double checked the map. “Looks like it’s not far from here, luckily. I’ve never been, have you? I kinda wish we were coming at night, I’ve heard the sky is beautiful. Great place for a date, if your date isn’t a fae,” she rambled, taking a trail map just in case. And, well, because she liked maps. She’d tack it up in her room next to the other local maps she had. “Speaking of dates, I was talking to someone about you and he seemed interested. Not someone I’d originally known was gay, but, you know, things change. Or, not change? Come out? Aren’t we all supposed to be able to tell? I thought we were all supposed to have some sort of gaydar.” She frowned. “Mine must be broken.” 

Kyle’s brain wanted to walk forward, but his feet didn’t react like they should. Now, close to the rock, it was worse; more pronounced. Was that a coincidence? He couldn’t decide, but he almost wanted to get back in his car and leave. He couldn’t, though. Not with a clear conscience. If Bex fell and broke a hip or got eaten by space ghosts, he would be stuck with the knowledge that he could’ve prevented her imminent doom. So he staggered behind her, being led by the wrist. “How do you have this much energy?” he questioned. He wasn’t tired—in actuality he had just rolled out of bed before this—but Bex seemed perkier than usual in a way that almost unsettled Kyle. Was this who she was when she wasn’t in danger?

“Yeah the, uh, northern lights? I’m pretty sure we shouldn’t be able to see them at this time of year. Is this like...global warming or something?” He gestured vaguely at the melting snow. “So you and Mina are dating then?” Kyle didn’t want to pry, didn’t want to push Bex to have this conversation if she didn’t want to. But he wanted to know. Before he could fish an answer from her, Bex had continued speaking. She said something that made him stop in his tracks. 

“Wait, I’m sorry—you—I—,” Kyle pulled back from Bex’s gently tugging grip. He wavered on his feet, but remained upright for the time being. “Hold up. You just said we have a gaydar? We as in, you’re using labels now?”

“A good breakfast and a better night’s sleep,” Bex answered, smiling wide. “I’ve been sleeping really well lately.” Partially because of all the sex she’d been having. It really wore her out and it felt nicer than any exercise she’d ever tried to routinely try. She didn’t mention that part to Kyle, though. She looked back at him, shrugging. “Everything still going okay with you? Aside from the vertigo? You think it’s got something to do with all this weird stuff going on? I mean, if the stars are messed up, it means something could be wrong with the magnetic field, and I’ve heard stuff like that affects animals. And since you’re, like, part animal, maybe it’s affecting you, too.” She took a moment to breathe, finding herself a little short of breath. But it came back quickly and she carried on.

“Oh, I mean, yeah, that would definitely be beautiful to see up here, but I just meant normally. It’s the one place in town where you can see all the stars and even the Milky Way band is visible on most nights!” Bex wanted to keep going, she didn’t mind this walking and talking thing, but Kyle was asking about Mina and then suddenly he was stopping and she wasn’t sure if it was concern or confusion tinging his voice. She turned to look back at him, hands stuffed in pockets. She let out a puff of air through her nose. “I don’t know if label is the right word, but yes. I’ve recently come to terms with the fact that I’m...attracted to women. Well, one woman. And we’re not just dating, we’re in an active relationship.” Each word felt measured, and took more energy than she liked. She wanted to keep moving. “Is that okay?”

The magnetic fields were affecting animals? Kyle blinked. Was that why he felt like he was moving through a thick jello when he tried to get his limbs to work with him? “Wait, the stars are affecting animals? How do you know that? I mean, it makes sense and—I don’t know. I didn’t think of that.” He took a few steps forward, veering towards Bex. He wasn’t sure if he was reaching for Bex or just trying to find some balance, but his arm flew out as he stumbled. “Sorry, sorry,” he said, wincing. “It’s like…I don’t know how to describe it. I feel off.”

Kyle nodded slowly as Bex talked. “Sorry, I don’t want to pry or anything.” He started walking again, purposely reaching for Bex’s hand this time. He needed something to steady him until the whooshing in his head went away. “I just—last time we talked about this, you didn’t want to admit that you liked Mina like that. I’m glad to see you be more honest with yourself. And me.” He cleared his throat. “So, uh, you were talking to someone about me?” Was Bex talking about Eddie? Kyle had his suspicions, but he wouldn’t ask. That didn’t feel appropriate in any sense. Anyway, Eddie was very adamant that they were dudes being pals. Still, Kyle couldn’t help the little butterflies that he felt. Could she be talking about someone else, though? He tried to wrack his brain for anyone who might be vaguely interested in him, but he came up short. Self-deprecation aside, he hadn’t gotten out much lately.

“I mean, I don’t know know, but fluctuations in the magnetic field have long since been recorded to affect animals. Mostly birds, but any animal that uses it to navigate could be affected,” Bex answered, holding her hand out to him as he seemed to sway again. “If...if you’re not feeling well, you can go back and wait in the car? I’ll be in and out, real fast. I told Mina I’d bring her back a piece of the meteor.” She knew he’d insist on going, but the offer to stay put had to be there, at least. She’d feel bad forcing him to do this. She felt like she was, anyway, but she did enjoy the company. 

“You’re not prying,” Bex told him as she steadied him and kept walking, going at a bit of a slower pace just in case he decided to faceplant again. She wasn’t exactly strong enough to hold him up, but she could brace his fall a little. “I was going to start telling people soon, anyway. I just kind of liked the idea of knowing I have a girlfriend to myself for a little bit. It’s still--” she paused, trying to find the right word. She wasn’t sure there was one. It felt surreal, finally admitting it. It felt right and wrong at the same time. She didn’t know how to describe it. “Strange. Not-- not the being with her part. I just spent so long convincing myself otherwise that being able to just say it still makes me feel weird.” Even if all she wanted was for it to make her feel normal, like the wish had made her. She chuckled. “Yes, I was. A very handsome boy, too. I told him you’re a very good guy who deserves only the best.” She smiled over at him. “Which is true, you know.” 

“I don’t feel sick,” Kyle insisted with a small shake of his head. “I feel off. I feel weird. It’s—it’s nothing. You’re not going alone, Bex.” He pouted at her, frustrated with himself. Being a werewolf had more and more downsides every day. “Is Mina immune to space radiation, or does she just like rocks?”

As they continued on, Kyle did his best to keep walking steadily. For the most part, he could manage it. His hand in Bex’s tethered him to an extent. It kept him from stumbling too far away, or toppling over completely. “Sorry to take that from you,” Kyle said quietly, not looking at Bex. He stared at the ground, under the guise that he was being careful of his footing, but he didn’t want to look at her as the guilt of messing up something else slowly sank in. The comment about him being good and deserving good felt like a slap. Kyle hummed in response, and didn’t meet Bex’s eyes. “I appreciate that,” he said, his tone flatter than anticipated. It wasn’t easy to pretend that he deserved good things after all he had done. Especially not here with Bex of all people. “How handsome?” he asked, trying to tiptoe around the harder parts of the conversation.

Bex put her free hand up. “Okay! Okay. I didn’t say sick, just, you know--” she nodded at their hands and how he continued to stumble as they walked. Luckily, they were almost there. “You look like you stayed on the merry-go-round too long.” She smiled, more gentle. “No, but I doubt there’s any radiation on the rock, it’s been sitting for a while now. And it’s not all rocks, just this one. She said she really wanted to see it, despite the valley being full of iron, so I assume it’s some strange magic thing drawing her to it. I figure I can prevent her from being stupid and coming up here herself by bringing her some back. And I get to say I hiked through a valley to get my girlfriend a space rock. So it’s a win-win for me.” 

Bex noticed the way his eyes fell to the ground, but she’d pretend, for his sake, to not notice. Hiking through Starfall Valley was likely the last place Kyle wanted to be talking about his personal issues. “You didn’t take it from me, don’t worry,” she reassured him, squeezing his hand. “I wanted to tell you, anyway.” She hummed along with him, rolling her head from side to side as she thought. “Very handsome,” she answered, “I think you’d like him.” Grinning to herself. They crested the hill of the valley and Bex traced the line of it to find the indent where the impact crater started. “Oh, there, look!” she tapped on his shoulder and pointed. “We made it!”

“What does iron have to do with anything? Is Mina anti-anemic? Pro-nemic?” Kyle didn’t think that getting a piece of the weird space rock was a good idea, but he bit his tongue. He didn’t want to take the wind from Bex’s sails right when she thought she was doing something romantic. So he trudged along behind her, stifling a mildly annoyed groan. He had no real need to be upset with Bex, but he could barely walk and was on a hike so she didn’t get hurt, and she was just so goddamn chipper about it. He resented her positivity today. 

Kyle squinted at Bex. “Very handsome, huh? You think I got a shot with this mystery man, then?” This hike was taking forever, and Kyle nearly stumbled over his feet (but he would swear it was a branch if Bex said a word). He should’ve stayed home. At the top of the hill, he looked out, spotting the caved in section of ground just before Bex could point it out. “Woah,” he mumbled, letting her have this one. “That’s bigger than I thought.”

For Bex, the rest of the conversation was lost. She tugged Kyle faster towards the impact crater, and thusly, the meteorite. There was nothing inherently strange about it to her, meteors fell from the sky every day-- but it was still such an incredible phenomena, and she’d never even imagined she’d get to see one. She let go of Kyle’s hand to drop her bag and pull out the little pickaxe and baggies she’d brought to collect samples. She turned to look back at him before she started climbing over the pile of dirt that had hardened from the heat of the impact. “Just wait there, I don’t need you falling into a ditch,” she said, sliding her way down on her bottom till she reached the rock. “Oh, I mean, yeah-- of course you’ve got a shot with him. I told him to talk to you, so keep an eye out,” she grinned, before taking the axe and swinging it against the rock. A piece chipped off and she scrambled after it, examining the bit closer as she turned it over in her hands. It was really just normal space rock, but considering space wasn’t normal down here, it was an incredible find. Not everything in her life had to be normal. She put the large chunk in a separate bag and picked the hand axe back up. Just a few more pieces would do. She didn’t even notice the critter moving through the field towards them, as she brought the axe down once again.

Where the fuck did she get an axe? Who had decided to give Bex an axe? Kyle didn’t even have a chance to argue before she was wielding the damn thing and chopping into the meteor. He sighed again, long and tired, and let himself plop down on his butt. “I’ll stay put. Scout’s honor,” he assured her, placing a hand over his heart. Kyle watched as Bex gathered her little piece of rock and examined it. He wondered if she knew as much about rocks as she did about history. 

Suddenly, Kyle became acutely aware of a sound. Something was rustling nearby. His head snapped up and he looked around for something--anything--but he didn’t immediately see anything. By the time he spotted it, the little creature was very close. “Uh, Bex, I think you should come here. Right now.”  

Bex looked up from examining more pieces that were sealed away in baggies when Kyle called out. “What is it?” she asked, stuffing them in her bag and sliding it on as she crawled back up the hill, dirt between her fingers. That’s when she saw it, not too far off behind Kyle. A pale, grey, humanoid looking creature, with strange bone structure and what looked like glowing, red eyes. It was carrying a spear like weapon with two prongs at the end, and a sickly, red hat sat atop its head. Perplexed, she tilted her head as it continued its rather quick pace towards them. “Maybe it’s friendly,” she suggested. It wasn’t running at them or baring its teeth or making scary noises. She had no idea what it might be, she didn’t know enough about the types of creatures that lived around here, but she was willing to find out. Picking up her own axe, she crawled from the crater and slid over to Kyle. “What do you think it is? Do you know?” Suddenly, it stopped just short of them and began to sniff the air, as if trying to work out what they smelled like. Bex watched, fascinated, taking another step forward. She wanted to see what it was doing. “He’s kinda cute, don’t you thi--” but her words were cut short as the creature suddenly leapt at her, snarling viciously as ragged teeth chomped down at her arms. “Woah! Not cute! NOT CUTE!”

“Bex, I don’t think--,” was all Kyle managed to get out before the little thing was lunging at Bex. Great. Amazing. What had they done to attract this kind of cosmic attention? Well, what had Bex done? Kyle knew that he certainly wasn’t redeemed yet, but Bex didn’t do anything to be getting one thing after another like this. Anxiety stirred up in Kyle’s chest and he pushed himself to his feet to run to Bex’s aide. Only, as soon as he was upright, he was toppling forward and landing on his front. He didn’t know if this creature was venomous or deadly in any way, so he didn’t stay down for long. Stumbling back to all fours, Kyle pushed himself forward. He had to make it down the hill relatively safely to assist in whatever way he could. His footing was already tentative at best, and the forward momentum sent Kyle rolling down the hill towards Bex and the little creature on her arm. “Woah, woah, woah!” he exclaimed as he rolled. The collision course was lined up perfectly and if this were bowling, Kyle would have gotten the strike. He couldn’t slow himself, and the rolling was only adding to the dizzying vertigo he had already been experiencing. Let’s go on a hike, she said. It’ll be fun, she said. Right. This was all according to plan. 

Bex flailed her arms as teeth sunk into her forearm. “Get off!” she grunted, trying to push it away. It was much smaller than her, yet it dug its heels into the ground and pushed back and suddenly she was being crushed under its grip. “Holy-- what the--” Why was this thing so strong? She looked into its eyes, glowing red down at her, as it used its free hand to turn the weapon it was holding down at her. “Oh, no! No, no, no, no!” She did not want to get stabbed by a skewer today. Mina would be so mad at her. She was just about to lift her feet to start kicking when she heard a loud thumping. Suddenly another body was ramming into her, and the creature was sent flying, as well as its weapon as Kyle collided with them. Bex landed face down in the dirt and grass, little puffs of pollen and iron dust spraying into the air around her. She coughed, rolling onto her back, glad that her ribs weren’t still bruised, before sitting up quickly and grabbing for Kyle. “Watch out!” she called, as the creature grabbed its spear and flung it as hard as it could at him. Whatever this thing was, it was smart. And if it had intelligence, that meant her magic could touch it. 

Bex lifted a hand, ready to pulse out whatever energy she could, but with a startle, she remembered her magic was gone. Something tried to stir inside of her, though, and suddenly it felt as if a hole was opening up in her chest and she gasped, clutching it, as she fell back to the dirt. 

The spear made contact with Kyle’s shoulder and he hissed in pain. It wasn’t very large, comparative to the creature who had wielded it. He gripped it and pulled it out with a groan that he attempted to stifle. How was he going to explain this to Dani when he got home? She already thought he had an inner ear infection, now she would really be upset with him. “Thanks for the heads up,” he grumbled, sitting up stiffly. 

Kyle hadn’t a second longer to think about the shoulder wound before the small creature was barrelling at him. “Uh, Bex?” he called, putting pressure on his fresh wound as he scrambled back. “Bex!?” She was the goddamn wizard, why wasn’t she doing something to help? He barely had the ability to stand, and it wasn’t like he could shift in front of her. Not after everything. “A little help here?”

The creature leapt at Kyle and Bex couldn’t do anything except push him out of the way. Blood smeared on her hand from the wound in his shoulder and she scrambled backwards as the thing landed between them and started scrambling for whoever was closest to grab. “I can’t,” she said, her voice suddenly strained. She couldn’t fight off the exhaustion anymore, it took hold of her like an icy hand and pulled at her heart. She felt it skip a few beats, pounding heavy in her chest. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. The thing snarled again and barreled for Kyle. Bex turned and grabbed the axe she’d dropped, stumbling to her feet. She swung at it and heard it crack against the thing’s skull, sending it tumbling. She held her hand out to Kyle. “C-c’mon! We gotta go!” 

“You can’t?” Kyle barked, his tone coming off more aggressive than he meant it to. Blood seeped through his shirt. Had the spear really pierced him that deep, or was it his rough removal that had done the damage. Jesus, whatever this thing was it was no good. To think that at the beginning of the year, Kyle was still pretty sure that the biggest danger in White Crest was himself, or maybe other werewolves. And now, he’d discovered at least a dozen other nightmares to keep him up at night. This little thing was currently at the tippy top of the list. Kyle looked from Bex’s hand, to the small humanoid who was currently trying to pull the goddamn axe from its skull. His eyes darted back to Bex’s outstretched hand and he reached for it as the little devil yanked the axe out with a sickening crunch. He gripped Bex’s hand, trying to clamber to his feet faster than their tiny assailant. 

“No, I-- I can’t,” Bex snapped, frustrated enough without the anger from Kyle’s own voice. She knew he didn’t entirely mean it, but it still stung. It pierced the parts of her that had quietly been questioning itself since she’d first woken up normal. Her magic was a limb and she’d cut it off without hesitation. She tugged on his hand and pushed him forward in front of her, wincing at the sound of bone cracking. Blood rushed down the creature’s face as it turned to them and ran forward again, teeth bared. Its head was already healing. She hurried them towards the edge of the valley-- would it stop pursuing them, then? Were they just in its territory? Gods, she hoped so. 

But luck wasn’t being kind to her today. The axe it had ripped out of its skull-- her axe-- came soaring towards them. It clipped Bex’s leg and she cried out, falling forward, taking Kyle with her. She scrambled backwards again as she flipped around to face it, hoping getting past the line would stop it. But it didn’t. Of course it didn’t. It leapt at them again and Bex put her hands over head, bracing for impact.

Kyle wanted to scream. It was certainly news to him that Bex couldn’t help out. Her magic had seemed fine when she shook a building nearly into ruins with just some negative thinking. Her magic certainly seemed fine the other time when she panicked on campus and made innocent students relive her trauma. It surely was fine when her stupid mind link--no, no, he couldn’t get upset with her. Not now, not like this. Kyle grit his teeth, trying not to say anything stupid as they scrambled back uphill. Bex screamed and they both fell to the ground. Kyle hadn’t even realized why she had screamed yet, he was more concerned that the hellish little beast seemed pretty okay, considering the cleaving it had received. Couldn’t anything in White Crest be more simple? Like a butterfly who was only a butterfly. Or a fucking unicorn. Or something that wasn’t hell bent on a murder most foul. 

All of the anger and all of the fear threatened to bubble up and rush out of Kyle. He tried to contain it, tried to tamp it down with that breathing Bex and Morgan did. But seeing the bloodied little asshole launching himself straight at Bex, at Kyle’s friend who he would protect because he owed it to her, because she deserved it, because she needed it--it flipped just the right switch. Kyle threw himself forward to meet the little man in midair. He caught it by the head in his maw and shook it vigorously. The head of the beast came away from the body with a wet snap. Kyle let it drop and stood there on all fours, breathing heavily over the still corpse. He cast a brief glance over his shoulder, and caught Bex’s eye. A low rumbling growl came from deep within his chest and his eyes glinted with the promise of danger.

The snapping was the first thing Bex heard. The severing of a spine as a head was shook clean from its body. The wet thump! of the body was what she heard next. Her eyes wrenched open just in time to look up and meet the sheen of the wolf’s. “Oh, fuck--” The world dropped out from under her and her back hit the ground of a dark alleyway, one she hadn’t visited in a very long time. A light flickered above her, making her throw her hands up to block out the light. It was that same alley, with that same wolf. Except this time, there was nothing and no one to help her. Bex’s fingers dug into dirt as she threw herself onto hands and knees, clawing to get away. She had no magic to save herself this time. She had no magic to save Kyle this time. 

Bex picked herself up and bolted, the alley melting away as she ran. Street lights turned back into trees, even as she heard the hum of their electric buzz in her ears. The crunching of shoes on gravel turned back into snapping twigs and rocks smacking against rubber soles. She didn’t bother to check behind her-- if he was there, then she was dead anyway. Watching it happen didn’t matter. 

Her bag smacked against her back as she ran, weaving through trees, doing her best not to trip and fall-- she wished she’d grabbed her axe again. But all that mattered now was getting out safely, before the wolf pursued. The treeline broke and Bex slid the rest of the way down the gravel path to the parking lot, where she was greeted with an eerie silence. She chanced a look behind her finally, and found only swaying trees greeting her gaze. More cars were pulling up, then, ready to explore the trail. “B-bear!” she called out, running towards the cars, finally remembering her leg and arm were bleeding, “there’s-- d-don’t go up there! There’s a b-bear!”

Bex’s sudden movements made Kyle snap up the body of the redcap in his jaws. He didn’t want his meal to be confiscated, not when he had just gotten it; not when his shoulder still stung with the pain of the spear and now the added pain of shifting. He watched her flee, his instincts screaming at him to pursue. He wanted to have this meal that was warm in his mouth already, but wouldn’t she make a better one? Wouldn't she be worth the hunt? 

Kyle bounded after her, leaving the fae discarded by the axe. He didn’t get very far, however, as the stumbling was so much more pronounced as a wolf in the clearing beside the stupid space rock. It took just about everything he had in him to get up the hill again. By the time he’d managed that, Bex was long gone. He looked longingly at the redcap at the bottom of the hill, but the idea of going back downhill for it wasn’t something he wanted to do. So he trudged off down the path towards the parking lot. By the time Kyle got back to the parking lot, it was just about empty. Bears really can clear a place out. He was tired, and a little banged up from his struggle to follow Bex.

Significantly more human, Kyle staggered to his car, one hand on his bloodied shoulder. So much for a calm, friendly hike. “Fuck this place,” he grumbled to himself, unlocking the Jeep and digging around for a spare set of clothes.