#and now I have half an hour to write fanfiction! :D

[phoenixiancrystallist]

Month 1, day 29

Bottommost coil is DOOOOOOONE!!!! *\o/*

Now for the rest of them >:D

[diorsbrando]

I’D DIE FOR YOU (AND I HAVE). ( s.a. )

sousuke aizen & black!fem!reader.

cw ━━ ! minors, blank and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT. reader is portrayed as a black woman but you do not have to imagine her that way. using this map of the seireitei as a reference (i searched high and low for a consistent accurate one but it was hard). the first half is set pre-ryoka invasion / pre-soul society arc. the second half is aizen-centric (from his pov told from the 3rd person) and set post-tybw arc, years after he was sealed away in mugen, also including mention of events from vol. 1 of can't fear your own world (a light novel that's post-tybw & can be considered canonical); so all this being said: SPOILERS i guess???? of course you're welcome to read if you don't care about spoilers! somewhat based on 'die for you' by the weeknd & even more loosely based on 'dark red' by steve lacy. contains themes of heavy-ish angst, existential crises (?) & inner emotional turmoil within reader + aizen (separately). descriptions of character death, blood and violence. descriptions of manipulation/mind games. aizen is an unkind man. proofread (i did my best).

word count ━━ 11k

notes ━━ ! the way this fic was supposed to finished a month ago...but life once more gets in my way. and the way that it's this long....i anticipated the max being 10k but i greatly underestimated how long it would take to flesh out my idea. anywho i'm somewhat reentering my bleach era again. i’m not sure what it is but character analyses in the form of fanfiction is my jam rn like i really enjoyed writing this (i got tired of the length by like... 7k words lmao) but i like how this turned out. i've watched & read quite a bit of content that provide explanations as to why aizen is the way he is so i wanted to try my own portrayal of that in the context of canonical events. how i characterized him here is partially inspired by a fic i read about him last year so shout out to them for their support :D i hope i've depicted and humanized aizen well ♡. reblogs + commentary are heavily appreciated!!!!!

THE PAD OF YOUR THUMB SLOWLY glided against your bottom lip, the lingering aftertaste of jasmine tea still on its surface and on your breath. The absentminded motion of your thumb caressing your mouth, as if in deep contemplation, continued as you stared at the clock hanging on the wall above you.

It was past eleven, and the midnight hour only continued to draw near as time sustained its temporal march. And there you sat at your desk, floating in the limbo of your mind that was filled with hesitancy and admittedly, budding anticipation.

Your gaze lowered to the now empty porcelain cup, nothing remaining of its contents except the shriveled remnants of herbs and a few wayward drops of the brew.

Your senior comrade, captain Sōsuke Aizen, was correct in his prediction that you'd take a liking to its floral and delicate taste when he gifted you a jar full of the jasmine tea leaves as well as other ingredients.

The captain of Squad 5 seemed to be correct about a lot of things.

His intelligence and foresight, along with his kind and politely witty disposition, were qualities that you found somewhat charming, and gradually drew you closer to him.

Being the current third seat of the 9th company, your barracks and those of squad 5's were relatively close to each other's, so often you'd catch glimpses of and run into Captain Aizen on a pretty normal basis. Over the years, the conversations that bounced between the two of you expanded past the realm of formalities between a higher and lower ranking officer, and instead ranged in territories from literature, to art, to food & drink, and even to the politics of the government for which they were soldiers for.

Sometimes, you found it hard to believe that you managed to befriend a man like him. A man who seems to have mastered the balance between being a gentle soul, helpful to others, but also possessed enough refined power and skills to be named a captain within the Gotei 13.

Especially a man who wasn’t even of your own squad.

Despite the increasingly friendly relations and generally pleasant conversation, there were few moments where Aizen's words didn't feel quite. . . . real━ he didn't feel real. He spoke eloquently, often relying on figurative language to further illustrate his point and to breathe meaning into seemingly plain and meaningless words. But at times those words, his tone felt stained; stained with some substance or color you couldn't quite place. An enigmatic façade was painted over his speech, and it took too much mental capacity to try and find your own meaning in it.

So you'd often brush it off. Your over-reliance on your own reasoning that 'you weren’t able to come to a conclusion because there is no problem a conclusion could be generated from' successfully quieted your mind’s voice. You'd also frequently blame exhaustion, or your newfound hobby of watching human psychological crime shows during your off days for these subconscious ideas you had.

But you feared that the request Aizen made of you yesterday, the source of your current predicament, couldn't be blamed on any of those things. You looked at the clock again before returning to stare at your empty tea cup. For what reason could Sōsuke Aizen wish to meet you outside of the 1st division barracks? Specifically at this hour? You immediately thought of his question as uncharacteristic of him but prevented yourself from jumping to any further conclusions.

Aizen was a reasonable man, and you were sure there was a reasonable explanation.

With a final sigh of acquiescence, you stood up from your sitting position to retie your yukata before slipping a thicker, dark colored haori on top. You were unsure how cold it was this late at night or how long you'd be out, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

You paused for a moment, glancing longingly at your vanity mirror a few times, clearly torn between a decision, before giving in with a soft groan. Grabbing your favorite perfume, you quickly spritzed the spray onto both your inner wrists, either sides of your neck, and stray areas on your clothes. You’d proceed to make sure your hair was in order and your lips were as moisturized and glossy as a pair of tear-filled eyes before making your way to the door and slipping on your sandals.

Meeting with a captain— with Aizen of all people— in the dead of night resembled too closely to forbidden lovers rendezvousing under a fruit tree to fulfill their desires of embracing one another, with no one but the moon as their witness. The comparison alone caused the apples of your cheeks to burst aflame with embarrassment, and you lightly chastised yourself for even indulging in such an inappropriate train of thought. Such a scenario seemed far too deluded to even be considered ‘wishful thinking’.

But those delusions still seemed to make more sense than whatever other conclusion you have yet to reach.

Making your way out of your personal quarters, you activated your shunpo technique, stealthily hopping from one rooftop to the other in an effort to make it to Squad 1 barracks quicker.

After several minutes, your mind mostly engulfed with the 'what if's', the soles of your sandals finally touched ground, and you stood a few feet away from the massive walls and bridges that connected to and from the barracks. Even at night you were able to make out the bold-printed kanji for the number 1 that was painted on the building.

When you arrived, even from a nearby rooftop, you didn't see anyone around. Feelings of confusion and worry began to creep up and flicker to life in your mind.

But, as if your thoughts were as audible, you felt a light breeze of wind behind you, a familiar sound that indicated someone had made their presence known.

Startled, you reflexively reached for your zanpakuto, when you remembered that you hadn't even brought it with you. It still laid against the wall near your bed, just where you placed it earlier when you were relieved of your duties for the day.

You didn't think you needed it necessarily if you were just going to meet with Aizen, hence why taking it with you slipped your mind.

The flickers of concern were swiftly extinguished as your brain caught up with your body upon realizing who just appeared. A relieved sigh left your lips, a breath of air that seemed to release all the tension that had a grip on your heart and wound tight within your muscles. "Ah! Good evening Captain Aizen. You caught me off guard for a moment there."

"My apologies, that was not at all my intention." The Fifth Division Captain sported a dark colored scarf, his long captain's coat and the standard shihakushō all Gotei officers were supposed to wear. In the sash around his waist resided his own sheathed zanpakuto. His tawny hair maintained its usual part but looked slightly tousled, yet still remaining so in a meticulous fashion that made it look intentional.

The state of his hair alone, and his current facial expression made Aizen look more . . . approachable if that’s how you were to describe it. There was a glint in his eyes that you had seldom seen before.

"Thank you, for making your way down here to accommodate my rather. . . . atypical request. I again extend my apologies if I have inconvenienced you in any way."

You shook your head in reply, "It's alright, I wasn't doing anything too important anyway. Just having a cup of tea and delighting myself in a book before bed."

You glanced downwards at the foot or so of space that was wedged in between the two of you. You forced away the murmurs of your lingering thoughts that took note of how the moonlight and shadows danced across the surface of Aizen's face just right, and emphasized his decidedly handsome features.

"But having a complete and good night's rest is important to be fully functional in all areas of one's performance. Wouldn't you agree?"

You couldn't help but chuckle softly. "Yes, I do agree with that sentiment."

Aizen all but hummed in acknowledgement, letting a moment of silence fill the air before speaking again.

"Shall we be on our way?"

You nodded in agreement, following him as the both of you walked about the First Division grounds. From what you could tell based on your position, your aimless nightly stroll drew you closer to where Sokyoku Hill was located. The area became increasingly more grassy and contained less buildings.

Although Squad 1 grounds weren't terribly far from either of your barracks, you still weren't sure as to why Captain Aizen wished to meet out here. Initially you thought that perhaps he was just fond of this particular scenery, but really it could have been anything.

But still, you believed Aizen always had a purpose for everything he did.

After several moments, his warm voice replaced the evening silence, vocalizing your current thoughts. “I assume you are contemplating why it is I have asked you here, and I’m afraid the reason is quite benign. Truthfully, I just wished for your company. I often go on night walks to clear my head after a long day and thought I might invite you to join me this time, and have a conversation with each other."

Your brows shifted upwards, for that was not quite the answer you were expecting. It seemed too . . . simple. “Really? You just . . . wanted to talk with me? Plainly?”

The Squad 5 captain let out a short, soft laugh at the disbelief that was painted on your face. There was an expression of fondness present in his eyes and in the light smile he offered you. “Yes, exactly. I quite enjoy our discussions actually, they’re intellectually stimulating and relatively pleasant. You crossed my mind, and before yesterday, it has been quite some time since we’ve had the opportunity to unwind and talk.”

You hummed an mhmm in agreement, tearing your eyes away from Aizen’s side profile in favor of the hem of his captain’s haori, watching how it danced in the soft breeze. It seemed to be less distracting than the way Aizen peered down at you from time to time.

"I see. I am. . . . truly flattered by your words, Captain Aizen; you're too kind. Forgive me for asking but," you took longer strides so that you could fall into step next to him━ as if to speak to him more directly, "Why at this time? To talk with me, I mean. It couldn't wait until more . . . . . conventional hours?"

He chuckled again, and answered as smoothly as if he were awaiting you to ask him that. "Unfortunately, today's tasks ran a little long today, so I had to stay at my office later than usual." The spectacled man paused for a moment, before setting his soft gaze on you, "And besides, that completely defeats the purpose of inviting you on a night stroll, doesn't it?"

You ignored the heat flaring up in your cheeks again. Your mind refused to move past the fact that you had crossed Sōsuke Aizen's mind enough times━ or the times that he thought about you were significant enough━ and highly enough to invite you into his realm and indulge in these moments with him, when he very much could have done that alone.

A tender smile appeared on your lips, more towards yourself than the man next to you. "I. . . suppose it does."

The ashen-white moon only rose higher in the sky, providing an ambiance of tranquility as the both of you talked about whatever crossed the surface of your minds. Other times, the stillness of the night did the talking, and you'd listen to the leaves, and the wind, and the crickets sing together in harmony. Gradually as you walked and the beaten path grew more narrow, your figures drew closer together, until you could feel the long sleeves of his haori brush against your own.

You hadn't noticed that the two of you eventually stopped walking and paused under a tree until Aizen struck up conversation once more. When he called out your name in that gentle, velvety voice, you swore your heart was going to lurch out of your chest. The sound of your name rolled of his tongue so smoothly, the desire to hear it again grew within you.

"Uh━ yes, Captain Aizen?"

"Are you satisfied with way things are at the moment?"

You stood next to him, perplexed at his inquiry due to its vague nature. "Um, what. . . . things? I'm afraid I don't understand what you're asking."

The wind brushed Aizen's dark ochre tresses across his face as he took a step towards you, like the breeze itself was pushing him towards you. "Hm, perhaps I should be more clear then. Are you content with being a soul reaper? Are you satisfied with being a soldier for the Soul Society?"

With your brows slightly furrowed in thought, you remained silent for several seconds and overanalyzed his every word, trying to predict where he might be steering the conversation now. The longer you thought it over, the stronger that nagging feeling from within your soul became. The one that often told you what he was asking wasn't exactly . . . it didn't quite feel . . . . .

"This feels like a prelude to another insightful discussion on Shinigami━ and by extension━ Seiretei politics." Your words cut off your own thoughts, as if your mind was trying to sweep something under the proverbial rug.

Aizen huffed in amusement, before lightly shrugging, leaving your statement definitively unanswered.

You sighed as you seriously considered his question this time. "I mean sure, I guess. I'm somewhat satisfied with my job and all of . . . this," gesturing your hands in the air around you to emphasize your point. The 5th Division Captain made another humming noise, indicating that you still had his full attention. He inched a little closer into your personal space.

The mere action caused your next words to die in your throat and a quiet chuckle resounded from his, before your thoughts revived themselves again.

"Of course things could always be better but. . . . y'know. This is just how it is." You weren't quite sure if you should voice negative opinions about the Soul Society so plainly to a senior officer, even if he was the one who asked you in the first place, so you treaded lightly.

The same plainly relaxed smile from earlier remained painted across his lips, held in his chestnut irises was an emotion akin to affection. He seemed somewhat pleased that you were expressing your thoughts with him.

“And you? Are you satisfied, Captain Aizen?” You were unable to keep the teasing endearment out of your tone as you returned his gaze, casting aside the notions of Gotei officer seating and ranks for the moment. The air seemed like it shifted━ towards what, you weren't sure of━ but it kind of made you feel like you were adrift, floating in isolation from everything else around you.

It was still hard to process that you were alone with Captain Aizen right now. . . . at night.

A low hum reverberated within his chest, contemplative in nature as he replied, “Perhaps.”

The wind whistled lowly again, erecting goosebumps on whatever part of your skin happened to catch the midnight breeze. You fought the instinctual urge to twitch towards the nearest source of heat, which happened to be Aizen. Now that would be even more wholly inappropriate than the 'lovers meeting at midnight' scenario.

The silence between the both of you was brief, but comfortable nonetheless. Once more his mellifluous voice cut through the quiet, leveled and calm, like still ocean waters.

“Come. I want to show you something,” Aizen reached his arm out towards you, your spine as straight as if someone stuck a metal rod dipped in ice water down your robes.

The captain's movements seemed steady and slow━ it had felt like time itself had hesitated for several moments. You thought he was going to . . . . well you weren't sure what he was going to do, and that's what you made you nervous.

Was he going to touch you? Cradle your cheek? Remove a stray leaf that happened to land on your head? You were left somewhat dangling in anticipation, not daring to flinch backwards because you felt it would be disrespectful or offensive. You hadn't even blinked, subconsciously fearing that this was only a very vivid daydream.

But alas, when his arm drew near it extended past your head, slightly above you, and held a small branch in his palm it like a delicate flower. You released a breath you didn't know you were holding, but that breath drew short again when your gaze was eye level with his lower neck and chin.

He seemed . . . . closer.

“I think that regarding the condition of the Soul Society," Aizen began in a quiet voice, referencing his own reply to his earlier question, "and therefore my thoughts about it, is akin to this set of leaves on this branch."

Snapping out of whatever stupor you seemed to have slipped in, you exhaled softly before stepping back a bit to look at what he was talking about. In his palm he cradled a wayward branch that grew from one of the other sturdier branches of the tree. The green foliage of its arms had started to weaken and dull in color. The cold air due to the seasonal transition to autumn caused the leaves become brittle, nearing closer to the edge of death.

The sound of just how brittle they were resounded in the air when Aizen thumbed the leaves in between his fingertips, observing their texture with pity laced in his small movements.

"These leaves will fall off as it gets colder. And soon, the rest of this tree will be bare as well. When the time comes, when the right circumstances fall into place, the old die to make way and usher in the new; it's simply the way things are. I think of the Soul Society government is structured in a similar manner."

You hung onto his every word, like he were imparting crucial wisdom to you. Even though you were a bit confused on the last part, and on the connection between dying leaves and Soul Society, you still listened intently, waiting for him bridge the gap between the two.

"The Soul Society as it is now can be thought of as a season. And this particular season, this climate has remained so for several centuries. How can nature continue━ how can we continue to progress when the old have yet to be washed away by the currents of time? It defies that of nature, yes?" He directed this question at you specifically, in search of your agreement.

You nodded your head, tearing your gaze away from the branch and directed it at the grass beneath your feet. Your brows furrowed a little as you mused over Aizen's words. He gave a rather ambiguous answer before but now, his words sounded like vague displeasure and muted criticism. Everyone was entitled to their opinion, and on some fronts, you'd sometimes agreed with the 5th Division Captain. The Soul Society was far from perfect, too much emphasis on nobility and status, the government resembled too closely to an oligarchy . . . But you didn't━ wouldn't voice these thoughts, though.

Instead you hummed quietly under your breath. There was that tugging sensation again. This time it told you that there was something deeper to this conversation than meets the eye. But what could there be? Was there anything at all or were you just overthinking it?

The voice-like sensation in your soul was calling out to you, but you couldn't hear it that well or quite make out what it was saying. It's as if someone was calling out to you in a crowded room that had music playing on the speakers: you felt like if you listened hard enough you could make it out but ultimately, the result would fruitless.

"And when that happens," Aizen continued, "sometimes nature has to be gently nudged back on track to keep things moving smoothly. That may require . . . shaking the tree. Pulling a few harmful weeds from one's garden, so to speak."

"Weeds?" You echoed. You felt like you understood this analogy and therefore what he was trying to say, but at the same time you didn't. Or was it . . . . you didn't want to understand what he was implying?

Because if you were interpreting his words correctly, if he were inconspicuously comparing the higher-ups and the government itself to dying leaves and harmful plants that needed to be removed, then . . . .

"You, dear child, are a mere weed in this scenario."

Wait, what did he just━

Your thoughts were cut short when a gush of air that smelt strongly of Aizen━ warm oak, vanilla, and a kind of musk that you weren't sure how to describe but was still pleasant all the same━ brushed against your face and took you by surprise.

But there was another aroma that arose, steadily becoming more apparent alongside the increasingly painful throbbing feeling you felt in your abdomen.

It smelt metallic. And it was something that you've smelt all too many times before.

It was blood.

Your gaze that was initially narrowed in confusion lowered as it followed the source of this pain. Your eyes slowly widened in as you struggled to comprehend the blade that was currently ran through your torso.

Aizen's blade.

"Actually, instead of weeds, a more accurate and befitting analogy perhaps would be blades of grass. You unfortunately have to step on them in order to reach the weeds you want to remove."

You couldn't really focus on what the captain was saying, because your brain was still struggling to process what the hell just happened. Your hands slowly rose from their sides and shakily grazed the zanpakuto, wanting to believe that if you touched it, it would pass right through your fingers like mist. But no, the sensation of cold steel was as real as the robes you wore on your back. You only just now are processing the muffled squelching sound of his sword impaling your flesh.

You wanted to scream, to cry in pain, to vomit, to push him off━ something. But all you could do was stand there, stunned, words completely failing you. "Wh. . . . what? Why did . . . . you . . . . "

A cough replaced your attempt at a comprehensive sentence, and you tasted iron in your mouth.

Fuck....was this really happening?

"Please don't push yourself trying to talk," His voice was like an index finger to one's lips, similar to a parent's gentle caress to quiet and sooth their child, "You'll only hasten your death. And I'm sure you wish to know the reason for my killing you, yes? You'd have to be alive for that."

'Killing me?' 'My death?' The certainty that rang in his words chilled the blood in your veins, and they confirmed the one conclusion you hoped wouldn’t come true: that you were going to die.

The frigid embrace of fear and dread engulfed you from behind and you shivered, causing the blade snugly lodged in your organs to shift. The pain of that foreign object moving even a little bit shot through your entire body, causing a groan to emerge from your throat.

Desperate to conserve your energy and the oxygen that was becoming a little harder to take in, your breathing became uneven and a little wheezed. Even then, you couldn’t bring yourself to meet the gaze of Captain Aizen to confirm if this was really happening or just an extremely realistic and vivid nightmare. The sight you might be greeted with could be more frightening than the actual impaling of his sword.

As if his betrayal couldn’t actually or figuratively cut you any deeper, just then there was a noise that grew louder and louder within a matter of seconds until it was almost deafening. You’ve distinguished it to be the sound of glass crackling.

Your surroundings formed cracks everywhere on its surface, like it was just an oversized window. Even on the grass you stood on, or what you thought was grass, began to crumble away.

A dumbfounded but panicked look was plastered on your face when your world literally shattered around you, the only remnants of it being you and the Captain.

What was underneath the mirage━ or you should say, the fact that it was a mirage at all━ only disturbed you and increased your perplexity.

Slightly hunched over and breathing heavily, it took a minute to process where you were, but you noticed that now the two of you stood in a formal room that looked like it was used for important meetings. The lights in the room slowly started to brighten, most likely due to motion sensors. Even with Aizen's scent lingering in your nose, you could still pick out a rather stale aroma that hung in the air like dead fruit that hadn't fallen off the tree.

"Is . . . this Cen . . . tral━ "

"You are correct. Where we currently stand is the assembly hall for Central 46, the judicial power of the Soul Society. All judiciary as well as legislative trials and proceedings are held here."

All around the room were seats with partitions, the kanji for 1 through 46 printed on them. In the seat for the 19th member, your gaze caught onto something on the translucent barrier. It was a little farther up so you had to squint your already blurring vision to see it properly.

You saw, and your heart promptly sank as a result, eyes widening once more.

There were splatters of a dark colored substance on the partition━ undeniably blood. And the lithe, bony fingers of an older man laid lifeless, peeking out from the side of the screen like the appendages themselves were trying to escape from the body they were attached to.

That man . . . was dead. That stale aroma you smelt was the stench of death.

It was only after that unsettling epiphany did your eyes dart frantically around the room and realize that every member of Central 46 was dead.

The disturbed expression on your face only intensified as your stare was pulled back down to where Aizen's blade still resided in your body.

" Cap.....Aizen," you uttered, swift to correct yourself. All the moisture in your throat dried up like water underneath the unrelenting rays of the sun. You kept gulping your saliva in an attempt to assuage the sensation, but relief only last for a fleeting few seconds. "Did you ━ you killed them . . . didn't you?" Your question was laced with shaky hesitance and swelled with apprehension, fearing that you already knew his reply even before he answered.

There was a moment of silence and a hum before he replied. "Smart girl."

The muted mirthful tone in his voice sounded like sarcasm, and it was enough to finally draw your attention away from everything else and directly look at him. Almost instantly, you regretted it.

His umber tinted gaze was colder than you remembered. You couldn't find anything in his eyes that hinted that all of this was just a big misunderstanding, or a dream, or that Aizen had a secret sense dark and complex humor.

This was your first, and apparently your last time, that you have ever felt a fear such as this. Your mind was struggling to comprehend this was the same Aizen that spoke with you so gently, full of encouragement and wisdom. The same man that recommended you books to read and gifted you tea to drink and gazed upon you like . . .

Well, none of that mattered now. In this moment, Sōsuke Aizen wasn't the same man anymore. This Sōsuke Aizen was someone else, and it frightened you.

"When?" you croaked, your voice no longer sounding like your own. Nothing felt real anymore. "W-When did you . . . . . how? Why?"

Another noncommittal hum resounded from the spectacled man as he closed his eyes, feigning the action of thinking of an answer. When he reopened them, his narrow gaze returned to you.

"Everyone in the Thirteen Court Guard Squads was previously aware that the ability of my zanpakuto, Kyoka Suigetsu, allowed me to confuse the enemy using bodies of water, mist and even moisture in the air in order to attack. However, that is not my zanpakuto's actual power; there is more to it than just simple confusion. Kyoka Suigetsu's true power is Complete Hypnosis. Essentially, when someone looks at my blade, I am then able to take control of that person’s five senses, causing them to believe that something is real ━ or that something isn't real. In a way, once glancing at my unsheathed zanpakuto, that person forfeits their sense of existence to me. Kyoka Suigetsu is quite flawless in its deceptive abilities."

A heavy silence, aside from your uneven breaths, endured in the space between both of you. You didn't need him to spell out what he was trying to say.

It was all . . . . an illusion. A convoluted, premeditated illusion. And you walked right into it without even knowing or considering, that it was all fake.

The Fifth Division Captain inwardly smiled at the despair clearly written on your face as he watched you mentally put the pieces together. He took your lack of reply as a sign to continue. "The members of Central 46 have unfortunately been dead for quite some time now. And as for your question of why......"

The taller man stepped towards you which inadvertently (or purposely, you began to fear), drove his sword deeper into your abdomen without warning and slight force. You bit down on your bottom lip hard to stifle your exclamation of pain. In an attempt to somehow resist him, with the little strength you had left, your hands automatically took purchase in his oversized sleeves, but it did nothing. You found it ironic that you could feel how warm Aizen was underneath his robes, but his soul was anything but.

" . . . . I believe I already mentioned it earlier, yes? All flowers die eventually and the weeds......must be removed."

At that moment you remembered that tugging sensation that told you something felt off in some instances whenever you talked with Aizen. This must have been what it was. Damn it all. You still didn't understand exactly what bad things Central 46 and the Soul Society have done to cause his actions, but based on what you've been told and your current position, it must have been heinous. Again, you actively swallowed the urge to vomit.

"You . . . you lied. I can't believe━ how could it have all b-been a lie?" Another nasty cough rattled your body, followed by a shiver and a groan.

The brown-haired man slightly tilted his head, like he was truly confused. "Lied? Hmm, well. I suppose you could put it that way based on your limited knowledge of the circumstances, but I wouldn't put it that way. Besides, this isn't really about truth or lies. It is, and always has been, only about the reality of what is. And what is, is that you were unable to anticipate my deception. No one could, because it was outside the domain of your thoughts. What is, is that the current way the Soul Society operates is tainted, and I shall be the one to remedy it."

You drew another shuddering breath and looked down at the ground with a grim expression as your blood continued to pool at your feet. Briefly, you even considered unsheathing yourself from his blade and take the chance to make a run for it, but the chances of you making it to the outside world, let alone coming across someone before you bled out and died were slim. Besides, it was clear that you couldn't even trust your own senses anymore after Aizen demonstrated that he had complete control of your reality.

Which reminded you of something else.

" . . . when?" you asked the same question again, but much quieter than before, despair palpable in your voice. 'When and how did you subject me to your zanpakuto's Complete Hypnosis?', is what you were really asking. And being as intelligent as he was, the spectacled man understood.

Abruptly, with a large palm on the small of your back, Aizen used his gentle hold grip to pull you towards him in order to close the remaining distance, causing him to drive the remaining length of his zanpakuto all the way through until the tsuba of his blade rested against your stomach. You looked like a skewered piece of meat.

You didn't have the willpower to hold back the piercing shriek of agony and physical anguish as tears sprung forth from your eyes. You could no longer tell if your blurry vision was due to your tears obstructing your sight or if it was from being a step away from death's door.

"Do you remember . . . the first time we met?"

The hand that rested on your lower back slowly glided upwards until his fingers found your jaw. With a tenderness that reminded you of a time before his betrayal, he lifted your chin and guided your gaze to look at him directly. His thumb moved to graze your bottom lip just as you've done mere hours ago━ as if he knew that, as if he watched you do it. His thumb was dangerously close to slipping inside your mouth and that both excited and scared you. Your breasts against his, your breaths synchronized with his, your body and his were fully pressed against each other and it made focusing on his question more difficult.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. The first time . . . we met? Sure, with a little bit of effort you could easily recall the first time you formally met Aizen. It was sometime in the spring, and you remembered him running through combat formations with his lieutenant and the rest of his squad. But why d━

A silent gasp left you. Another epiphany, another figurative blade piercing your heart.

Battle formations, and he . . . offered you to join them . . . his zanpakuto . . . . .

Confusion crumbled away, and was replaced with vacant horror and sadness. It seems you've already been defeated, for many, many years now.

Aizen seemed to murmur something under his breath, a pleased sound you couldn't quite decipher. His mouth brushed over yours, rendering you literally speechless, before he closed the distance and brought your lips together. You could barely process what was happening.

It was ironically tragic how soft and skillfully gentle his lips were against yours. The kiss felt longing, like a departure between two sweethearts and their last meeting together. It also felt heavy and final, making you want to cry.

And you did. Silent tears streamed from your eyes and rolled onto the fingers that still held your face so affectionately. The captain reacted by guiding your chin up a little further, dipping his head a little lower, so he could deepen the kiss. You weakly scorned yourself for thinking about how the two of you must really look like lovers now, sans the sword sticking out from your back.

Oh, how cruel this was; how cruel he was. It was cruel for him to kiss you like this, hand still splayed on your back like he needed to touch you stay sane. And how cruel it was that still managed to enjoy it, even as you stood there dying. Your lips moved together in tandem, slow and almost passionate, all while tears stained the apples of your cheeks, drying up the plush youth that once resided in them.

Aizen's tongue had slithered its way into your mouth, and you suddenly felt like crying harder. There was a tart, sweet flavor lingering on his tastebuds, and you absently wondered what is was. Perhaps hibiscus from tea, you surmised. And he too tasted the sweet jasmine and citrus that clung your tongue and lips. At this, he chuckled quietly into your mouth, humming before retracting from you by a few inches so he could speak.

"I knew you would like the tea. It's sweet and flavorful, isn't it?" You hated how low his voice was, how its timbre pleasurably vibrated and rumbled against your lips, and you hated that lidded stare he gave you. You again thought it unfair that you couldn't even revel in the rare sight of Aizen's lips slightly wet because your lips were intertwined with his.

"I have to thank you for humoring me and my recommendations. I really appreciated it. And I also," you winced loudly and cried out in affliction as Aizen finally began to withdraw the sword from your body, "must to bid you farewell now. It seems you don't have any more time left, and this has dragged on for longer than it needed. I'm not surprised you've held out for this long, as I already knew you possessed commendable strength. But alas it wasn't enough. I am sorry that you have to die; it's rather regrettable that you happened to be that blade of grass that ended up underneath my foot."

Another wail was yanked from your chest as he steadily removed his sword from your abdomen. The pain was becoming excruciating, you would have collapsed by now if the taller man weren't holding you.

You saw two things before the light in your eyes had all but faded away. The first were the colors of faux pity and apathy that swirled in Sōsuke Aizen's irises, spiraling like a storm that was certain to wreak havoc in its wake. His gaze was devoid of any regret or remorse; the final metaphorical nail on the coffin. The second was a small smile.

But this wasn't one of his smiles you were familiar with. No wait . . . . the one you knew was simply a veneer of what is.

This smile was slanted, the corners of his lips tilted upwards and was sharp. Sharp enough to cut open your already gaping wound further and completely tear you apart, spelling out your demise. It looked insidious as if it were hiding razor-edged fangs. This was what is; Aizen's real smile.

"I. . . I see. Aize. . . ." were the last words you were able to manage. You didn't have the strength to be upset or hurt any longer, so you gave in to the exhaustion.

Your body permanently relaxed, long lashes veiling your now empty eyes as your arms lifelessly dropped to your sides. The captain found a disturbing amount of pleasure in his name being the final word you attempted to speak before succumbing to the sleep of death.

And even after the fact, the facade of doomed, star-crossed lovers persisted as your body slumped backwards. Aizen's strong forearm wrapped tightly around your waist being the only reason you didn't fall to the ground in a puddle of your own blood.

That day was the last anyone saw of you, your zanpakuto still laid idly in your room, its spirit destined to forever wander in the afterlife between worlds alone, eventually fading from existence without ever feeling the presence of its master again.

They had declared you missing by the end of the next day. Lieutenant Hisagi was probably the most perturbed about your sudden disappearance. Days, weeks passed, and they never located you. The Gotei 13 was left unsettled by the lack of progress, but ultimately had to rule your case inconclusive. Some believed that you were simply killed by a stray hollow, or even ran away from your duties because of the stress.

The news of what happened spread like wildfire across all the squads, that a high-ranked officer just up and vanished without a trace. The spirits and morale of the thirteen companies dampened, sorrow and worry swelling like a festering boil.

And that boil burst when Ryoka infiltrated the Soul Society, and when it was revealed that all of it was carefully orchestrated by Sōsuke Aizen.

Like a blade of grass that somehow snuck into one's sandals or in between their toes, during his time in Hueco Mundo, images of you flashed in his head at unexpected times when his mind was quiet. He'd remove the grass, tossed you aside, and moved on with his day. There was no room for you in the grand scheme of things. Such reminisces were beneath someone like him.

And yet.

He'd always find another piece of grass from the greenery he stepped on whenever he advanced a step in his plans. There you were again.

It was common knowledge that if you kept repeating the same action over and over, it will eventually wear you down.

━━━━━━ 鏡  ━━━━━━━

It was dark, and there was nothing.

There had been nothing for quite a long time now. Utter darkness and the abyssal shade of black engulfed every inch of Aizen's body and surroundings.

He saw nothing, the seals over his eyes too opaque to let anything through. And even if they weren't obscuring his vision, he would barely be able to see three feet in front of him; there was seldom a few lanterns in his cell to begin with. He felt nothing but the bindings that kept him imprisoned in one of the deepest pits of the Seireitei. At times it felt like even his internal organs had stilled in their functions. He heard nothing but the unrelenting quiet of his cell within Mugen's maw. The only thing that served as proof that he hasn't spontaneously grown deaf yet was the occasional muffled noise that originated from outside of the entrance. And even then, he could hardly hear much of anything.

Such is an ironic fate for someone who, with a stray thought and a glint of his blade, could control someone's senses and take away their free will to experience those senses in their reality. And now, he was stripped away of all of his in nearly every capacity.

Sōsuke Aizen was rendered stationary and stagnant, qualities he detested and were the antithesis of his ambitions and plans, perhaps even his existence.

Aizen had always believed in being in control of your own destiny and making your own choices; if you had the opportunity and the power to change something━ especially if it was something that was wrong, unfair or immoral━ then one should be able to move towards that goal by making change, even if by force. The former captain had always been intentional about his actions and his desires right from the start.

And yet, here he ended up.

Spending years strapped to a chair in this dark, cloistered hole, Aizen had nothing but time to reflect the reason for his arrest: that orange haired Ryoka boy, Ichigo Kurosaki. He had nothing but time to admit to himself and settle on the conclusion that his last battle with the substitute Shinigami . . . did something to him.

Fighting the Ryoka boy ignited something inside him that he previously believed would forever lay dormant.

The thrill of a challenge.

Adrenaline was injected into his veins with each clash of their swords, spreading far and wide across every inch of his body. It no longer reacted in the measured, calculative manner he had programmed it to, but with unadulterated, pure instinct and raw power━ all in an effort to not only withstand such potent spirit energy from his opponent, but to come out on top and win.

It made him feel alive.

Aizen's desire to be the victor in battle and in his philosophy━ to prove himself right━ both fueled him and consumed him so thoroughly it led to his own downfall. That was a rather difficult fact to acknowledge; so much so his head started to pulsate intensely whenever it crossed his mind one time too often.

All of it unfolded right in front of his eyes and yet . . . he didn't really see it happen.

As time passed during his perpetual incarceration, with hooded eyes, the former captain spent an unfathomable amount of time tossing and turning every single event that led him to this underground prison, even pondering his temporary release by the Head Captain Kyōraku to fight in the war. Scenarios both minor and significant displayed itself in front of his mind's eye as if he were watching a film.

Every so often, a blurred visage of your image would make a brief appearance, like the flickering sparks of a match before they were able to come to light, fading away into the void and were overshadowed by his other thoughts. It was as if his own consciousness and intentionally muted any manifestations of your existence in his memories. As if he wasn't able to or allowed to see them━ to remember you for too long.

Mentally reliving moments from the last several months, years, decades, centuries━ trying to analyze each moment and decipher where it could have went wrong━ turned out to be quite an exhausting task. His mind and body would grow heavier with inertia, and eventually he would succumb to the alluring pull of slumber. After some time he would rouse from his sleep, and continued from where he left off.

These were his daily activities day in and day out (even though he had trouble distinguishing day and night in his chambers) for years. He saw a positive side to it though. He'd instead think of it has him getting stronger because he had spent so long . . . thinking. Ruminating. Contemplating every possibility in the past, present, and future. His mind would become as sharp as his zanpakuto.

Aizen had always been intentional about what he did, what he said, and how he conducted himself. He was sure in his abilities to orchestrate an image━ a belief for others to have faith in, and act on it in order to further his goals. He was always sure in that image, knowing who he was and what he stood for.

Or at least, that's what he thought.

Aizen wasn't consciously aware that his certainty in this crafted image had already begun to waver. He could not and was unable to anticipate how severe these small fractures had become until after a certain lieutenant paid him a visit outside his cell of confinement, right before he was scheduled to be thrown back into that dark hole of the Mugen.

Lieutenant Shuhei Hisagi was quite emotive when he burst through the doors. His expressions were contorted in volatile mixture of frustration, anger and sadness. His emotions were every which way, directed at everything that has happened so far, including himself. He was especially emotive at Aizen specifically for what he did to former captain Kaname Tosen and 'corrupting him with his twisted ideals.'

Aizen found amusement in that.

Before he was rolled away by the punishment force and therefore out of earshot, a particular set of Hisagi's words caused the small, content smile on his lips to uncurl ever so slightly. "Everything . . . and everyone that has ever gotten themselves involved with you has been trampled on by you and your ideals one way or another, and they all end up dead. If you think what you did to Captain Tosen was justified━ to call it mercy . . . . . then there is truly no justice in this world. You will . . . forever be the enemy in my eyes."

There was a trembling anger in his voice. Pain that wanted to cry out and be set free but, the thin lid of reason prevented it from doing so. And after a moment of silence, the corners of Aizen's lips curved upwards once more. A little bemused, a little more wolfish this time. He maliciously imagined Hisagi's reaction if he ever discovered the true reason for your disappearance.

But instead, all he said was. "What an interesting thing to say, Shuhei Hisagi. Your conviction is admirable." Any evidence of emotion that might have been reflected in his sepia irises was swallowed up and obscured by the darkness of the Mugen's jaw.

The cracks in Aizen's sense of self, in his beliefs, in the image he invented started to cave under the weight of Hisagi's words before he himself realized it was happening. They were like stains in the fabric of his mind that refused to come out.

What puzzled him more, was that with each attempt to figure out just why Hisagi's words echoed in his mind, they all lead back to you, the third seat of the 9th squad. Annoyingly so.

The tattooed lieutenant hadn’t said anything particularly profound ━ at least, Aizen didn't think so. Your name didn’t even fall from his lips. So why were memories of you and your likeness the only clear thoughts he could make of Hisagi's speech? Was it because he was aware of how close the two of you were? He doubted the reason were that trivial and insignificant.

His thoughts grew more discordant by the day, his soul a little more weighted than usual. Perhaps these new seals that Urahara had fashioned actually had an effect on him, Aizen thought. It made sense. His intellect, other than his own, were the only ones capable of creating such effective restraints.

After a while, he had a revelation. This was a different kind of weight.

This heaviness, the closest word he knew to describe it as . . . . was loneliness.

Time taunted him as it seemed to drag on━ Aizen grew even less sure of how much━ when he came to this realization. Hisagi's words were a clear mirror to the loneliness that echoed within him after what happened to you and to Tosen. It was so . . . potent, that it seemed to strike some chord in Aizen he had never heard before.

Such a chord, this sound of loneliness, it was strange and uncomfortable; he wasn't very fond of this sensation. He'd try to scrub it away, but it was all for naught.

His eyes had slid shut at some point, his ruminations leading to dead ends and wearing him down. And, almost as expected, there you were again, in all your translucent glory. The hem, the sleeves, and even the smell of your yukata slowly dragged across his dreams, haunting his thoughts like a lonely wraith.

And Aizen hardly dreamt of anything.

When he regained consciousness he was plagued with yet another epiphany. An additional reason behind this newfound depth.

Aizen's own loneliness. Guilt. Much to his own quiet horror.

How foreign and unusual a thing like guilt is. It was like looking into a mirror and not recognizing something you had never noticed before, but wondered if it had always been there.

But the thing Aizen did recognize, how lonely he actually felt, was something he had hoped would never resurface again. It was a notion he hadn't had the time or regard to consider━ 'loneliness'. Its only purpose, if any, was solely to serve as a motivator. At times though, it was more like a hindrance.

Something akin to nausea slowly started to bubble up in the pit of his stomach, but he suppressed the sensation before it became any more intense.

What of his previous actions did he need to feel guilty for? He hadn't felt it then, so why would he feel it now? Again he ruminated such a question endlessly into oblivion.

The former captain had no doubts that his plan to remove the Soul King, and therefore the Soul Society's sins, were necessary.

Nor did any hesitancy about removing the opposition or dead weight━ whether shinigami or arrancar━ existed.

He certainly had no reservations against killing Kaname Tosen, for he knew the man well enough to know that Tosen would have been so thoroughly appalled with what he had become, it would have drove him mad.

So what was it, then? Why were such useless emotions as guilt and loneliness being amplified n━

"Y....know, S....."

Even covered by the seals, Aizen's eyes widened and his brows were slightly furrowed in distress. Had his mind finally tipped the scales of sanity and madness, to the point where he was hearing things?

It was quiet for several moments longer, before his senses caught onto the sound of water dripping onto a hard surface.

One drop at a time.

Its cadence a little too rhythmic to be natural. And for a second time, he heard that soft, ominous sounding whisper. Its voice a little clearer this time.

"You...know.....Sōsuke."

In the second it took for his eyes to flutter shut behind its seals to blink, when he reopened them, he was no longer sealed to the walls and floors of the Mugen, nor was he surrounded by every shade of darkness imaginable. His limbs and senses were finally freed to breathe for the first time in what felt like ages.

That relief was short-lived when his senses absorbed the unending landscape of water underneath his feet, water lilies lifelessly floating on its surface, and the dim sky illuminated by a full pale moon.

Aizen was in his inner world, and now he was aware of how he got here, or rather who brought him here.

"You . . . already know the answer to that question, Sōsuke." The voice was even more clear, its sentences more comprehensible. And it sounded it eerily like you.

Why the voice was impersonating your likeness had caught him off guard for half a second, but he realized it was only the work of his zanpakuto, Kyoka Suigetsu.

An illusion it may be, there was an untouchable quality about your voice and how you spoke that even Kyoka Suigetsu couldn't replicate.

A few feet away from him, the water was disturbed by a being emerging from the depths. Ripples formed around a manifested version of his zanpakuto, who took the form of you, smiling ever so gently. The smile felt airy, and it didn't seem like the same one that haunted his dreams and every waking thought as of late. It felt....knowing.

Still, the former captain couldn't be bothered to maintain eye contact with his sword spirit, so he turned around and opted to keep his unreadable stare trained on the vast expanse of water and white lilies.

"It's been quite a while since I have stepped foot into this realm. There must be something you want . . . Kyoka."

The zanpakuto chuckled, it sounded like the way you would softly laugh at one of his clever quips. But this wasn't you.

He didn’t want to admit that something about that fact didn’t sit right with him.

"Judging from your tone, would I be correct in assuming you don't want to be here?"

Silence rang out within the soul scape, before Aizen interrupted it, his gentle voice colored a shade darker, and a little rigid. "And I fail to see the reason why you must take that form when you revealed yourself to me. Is your aim to get a reaction out of me? Or something along those lines?"

Your eyes━ the eyes of Kyoka Suigetsu━ narrowed at its master's back, as if they were trying to create concavities in his skull. But the expression was washed away the moment it appeared, the serene smile from before was back in place.

"You know . . . it's considered quite rude to not look at someone when you're addressing them. That, and when you deliberately ignore things they say. Your manners have been deteriorating, Sōsuke. Tsk, tsk."

Kyoka-dressed-as-you suddenly appeared before him, as if they had teleported. Even when they were in his peripheral vision, Aizen still maintained his stare off into the distant nothingness.

"Unless, you can't find it in yourself to look at me. . . that's correct, isn't it? It's because I look exactly like her, right?" The zanpakuto continued to provoke him, taking a step closer into his personal space.

With an exasperated sigh, his eyelids fell shut for a second, using that time to gather the strength he didn't know he needed, and directed his gaze to meet his spirit's. Aizen's face gave nothing away, but his heart lurched about his chest when his bronze eyes met with yours, or what was made to look like yours. The undesired affect it had on him was all the same.

"If you wish to chastise me about manners, I suggest you take your own advice. You didn't answer my first question, either: what is it you want? Why am I here?" Again the former captain chose to not address the other parts of Kyoka's statement. For the sake of his sanity and his thinning patience━ or was it to preserve his resolve?

Its smile widened a bit, moving another step closer to their master. God, Kyoka even smelled like you, mimicking your signature honeyed scent that Aizen didn't realize he found so intoxicating until this very moment.

"I called you here to save you from yourself."

Aizen remained silent, only narrowing his eyes in speculation. "Meaning?"

"Didn't I already say it earlier? I think you already know what I'm talking about, Sōsuke. You've always known."

Fate's pairing of Kyoka Suigetsu with Aizen was a match crafted from the spindles of heaven, but also a maddening curse pulled from the depths of hell, for they complimented each other a little too well. The zanpakuto was too perfect a reflection of Aizen and his soul, looking at it started to hurt his eyes.

His sword spirit insisted that he already knew the reason for his coming here, and perhaps he did have an inkling the moment the light of epiphany was shone on his profound loneliness and guilt. But that couldn't have been what it was referring to . . . . could it?

"You cannot feign ignorance here, my dear Sōsuke, however I do find it rather humorous you bother trying. If you'd like, I don't mind humoring you by spelling it out for you. I'd be glad to unearth the truth that you have buried in the most neglected corner of your heart."

"When you were . . . . subjecting yourself to such mental torment, it had an affect on this world as well. The ripples, the waves in this scape become quite . . . tumultuous." The nuances in your voice were perfected by his zanpakuto, but the way it talked sounded like a fog that was gradually closing in from over the horizon. The uneasy feeling that resided in his chest traveled down to his stomach, but Aizen's face remained steely, even when Kyoka Suigetsu took that final step to close the gap in between them. "And the reason for that, the reason why Hisagi's words rattled you so is because you regret killing that woman."

The creased line in Aizen's brow grew more prominent as he stared down his sentient sword spirit. With its breast pressed against his, they placed a hand on his clothed chest in a tantalizing manner, but he felt nothing. There was no warmth from its palm, much unlike when your hand touched him. There wasn't even a cool sensation either. Even minutes before your death, your touch brought a soothing heat that permeated through his shihakusho and penetrated his skin.

Kyoka's face grew nearer, their smile━ although still tender looking━ grew cold at its edges, nearly resembling that of a predator eager to see despair reflected in the eyes of its prey. It didn't fit the graceful allure of your face at all, and seeing this expression deeply unsettled the former captain more than he would like to admit.

"You regret . . . killing me."

A chill tore through Aizen's body, the weight of Kyoka's words adding onto the heaviness that still hasn't been alleviated from his heart; he was hardly able to suppress the involuntary shiver.

Without warning, Kyoka's mouth suddenly became dangerously close to their master's, its lips brushing against his in a provocative manner. Aizen's expression darkened when he realized that it was reenacting his last encounter with you when you were alive. His mouth started to grow uncomfortably dry, despite his soul scape being full of moisture, and there was a taste on the back of his tongue that's been lingering there since he arrived.

The lilt in Kyoka's tone continued to taunt him. "That is the reason for your guilt: regret. You have been in denial. And in the spirit of unearthing truths, I suppose I can admit that perhaps . . . . I've been . . . . encouraging said delusions, adding drops of fuel into the flames of your emotions and ambitions. But after all that's happened, when it comes down to it there's no point in continuing this hallucination any longer. I've grown tired of this game, so it's time to for you wake up now, Sōsuke. I've brought you here to release you from your own illusion, to completely shatter it."

Aizen's back was as stiff as a board, not moving a millimeter when Kyoka's lips grazed his again. They were breathing softly onto his mouth, but he hardly felt any puffs of air.

The former captain was having a rather difficult time processing the fact that his zanpakuto had its own agenda and had been manipulating his emotions without him noticing. Specifically the emotions he felt towards you.

He never truly believed that such a thing was possible, one's own blade having such a deep-rooted influence━ no, control over their master. Or would it be more accurate to say that he never expected himself to be controlled to such a degree? He that prided himself on being freed from the marionette strings of fate that were tied to his limbs and mind, he that relished being able to do what he wanted, think what he wanted, feel what he wanted━ or what he didn't want━ it was hard to believe that none of that mattered in the end.

Kyoka Suigetsu's deceptive abilities were indeed undeniably perfect. No one, not even Aizen himself could have anticipated that Kyoka's most absolute and complete hypnosis would be enacted on himself.

"Do you know now, Sōsuke? Do you understand?" Kyoka's voice was as soft as a whisper, but it couldn't hide the edges of its tone that were still sharpened from finding amusement of seeing the truth flash across its master's face. "You had destroyed the solution to your existential question of loneliness, before you could fully understand the question itself."

Yes . . . . . Aizen understood now.

He didn't bother acknowledging what Kyoka had said. His grim facial expression━ still, tinged with dolor, and paired with an indescribable, distant look his eyes━ said all that it needed to. His silence was as much as an admission as any.

Kyoka-dressed-as-you leaned forward again to fully close the gap between their lips and Aizen's. Tenderly, like the intentions of a lover, it spoke against his nearly closed mouth. "Have you figured it out yet?"

Nothing but quiet could be heard between them, as Kyoka's mouth moved about their master's face and placed something like kisses upon its surface, but not quite.

Aizen's cocoa-shaded eyes slide down to stare at his sword spirit pressed up against him. His gaze was hard, and yet something swam underneath its surface that his zanpakuto had never seen before. Melancholy, it guessed? They weren't quite sure.

Kyoka pressed on when Aizen remained quiet. "The taste in the back of your mouth. Have you figured out what it was? You know it quite well....."

Aizen's tongue grazed the roof of his mouth, sensing the rather unpleasant taste that has coated the inside of it. And within a moment, because he was faced with the current circumstances, Aizen had finally placed a name associated this particular taste. How unfortunate this was.

Upon his realization, Aizen's head lowered, and his brown tresses hung freely over his lashes. Perhaps it was so Kyoka couldn't properly see whatever remorseful expression painted their master's face, but it mattered not. Even from here, the sword spirit could already sense exactly what it was he was feeling.

And they loved it.

"It's a sweet and flavorful taste, isn't it? Quite lovely." Kyoka Suigetsu mimicked the exact words he uttered against your lips all those years ago when he tasted jasmine tea on your tongue, and sealed your death with a kiss. "It's too bad you don't seem to enjoy it anymore."

Aizen's chest continued to rise and fall calmly, and the hands of his sword spirit that rested there glided upwards to cup his strong jaw, caressing his skin with its thumb. Its phantasmic touch did nothing to stir their master.

"Sōsuke, do you know what the jasmine flower from that tea symbolizes?"

Aizen's lips were slightly parted, but again he didn't say anything. Instead, its corners twitched and lifted upwards by an inch, and he huffed softly.

Kyoka Suigetsu grinned in reply. "Good."

The next time Aizen blinked, he was plunged in darkness yet again. The restrictive feeling that swallowed his being whole had returned, and was an indicator that his zanpakuto had released him from his inner world. He was consciously back in the Mugen, back in this abyss they called a prison cell.

Kyoka was indeed as much as a formidable force in its own right, as much as, if not greater than Aizen himself.

The conversation he had with his sword spirit would be cemented in his head for all eternity. When he grew senile and began to physically wither away, the one thing that would remain vital like a young heart, was this epiphany that he had. This realization that he actually . . . .

As the chains of despair bound him tighter to the bottom of the metaphorical pit, regret and his loneliness corroding his flesh and spirit like metal exposed to moisture, a stray memory of his time in Hueco Mundo flashed in his mind. He recalled having tea prepared for meetings with his Espadas and he could not pinpoint when, but at some point, Aizen developed an aversion for jasmine flavored tea. For one reason or another, he no longer found its taste appealing; whenever he drank it, it always tasted bitter.

Now that reason had become painstakingly clear.

The binding on his mouth muffled a rueful chuckle at the though, and it trapped the flavor of jasmine on his lips.

(#) @soaringmirror @stygianoir @ryukenzz @blkjupiters @chrissie2003 @nymphoheretic @dejwrld @triangularz @souyaszn @kuujo @honeybleed @valentineluvu . let me know if you’d like to be apart of my tag list ♡♡.

[pezberrywhoreee]

cruella x (fem) reader smut drabble!! 'the inspection'

Pairing: dom!cruella de vil (Cruella 2021) x subfem!reader

Words: 1,111

content warning: D/S relationship (heavy), degradation, mocking, cunt inspection, light mommy kink, mentions of torture

Summary: Cruella gives you some well earned attention...though not nicely or selflessly.

Note: Nobody on this planet is producing queer Cruella fanfiction and it's starting to eat away at my soul. I'll do it, bitches. I'm so disgustingly obsessed with this movie and this woman btw...i should be institutionalised. I'll try to hold back but I cannot promise anything :D. (if y'all like this, i may continue this, post it on ao3 (@faberryslut09). i just needed some to write something before i exploded from horny :))

You could already feel yourself practically leaking onto the hardwood floor of the kitchen.

Cruella hadn't explicitly ordered you to be kneeling for her by the time she arrived from a long day of hunting for the right pieces for the next collection, but you thought that it would be a sweet surprise. Plus, it was going to eventually happen that night so why not start the fun earlier?

Your head dropped and your hands clasped behind you back as the sound of the lift resounded throughout the warehouse.

The much present desperation invited a soft shake within your bare body, shivering in anticipation.

This was made more intense at the clank of the lift door opening followed by the rhythmic tapping of a cane and boots against the wood. Your breathing stopped momentarily out of fear when the sound came slower, almost feeling the need to look up but you could feel her gaze burning into your body.

The woman's evil cackle erupted in the quiet space, adding to the tension filled room. There was a hint of mischief to the laughter that sent a wave of arousal straight to your core. You tried to quiet the involuntary mewling noises rising in your throat.

"Oh darling~ how depraved". She chuckled, looking down on you, literally and figuratively.

Cruella's low, sophisticated voice never failed to bring you certain feelings of arousal and compliance. As soon as you heard that tone it was like clockwork of how instantly you were by her feet.

Your eyes fluttered shut at her mocking tone which was accompanied by her free hand in your hair, gently petting and playing for now. The trembling of your body threatened to intensify but you tried to compose it as best as you could. Much to the woman's amusement, you were still steadily shaking from the intense arousal powering your being.

Cruella began to circle your kneeling body, her cane tapping along with her. "How long have you been waiting like this, pet?". She asked, seemingly unbothered.

You kept your head down as you answered her, a betraying whine in your voice. "About half an hour, ma'am".

A refined brow shot up in response as well as a smirk tugging at her lips. "Well...consider me impressed, darling. Although you could do far better than that". She said as is if she wasn't convinced by her own praise followed by her usual condescending remarks. You felt yourself drip each time she spoke.

"On your back, I must inspect you". She commanded effortlessly. "You know how it is, pet", she whispered seductively.

Wordlessly, you placed you arms in front of you on the hardwood floor, lifting your weight to stretch you legs out and gently push yourself onto your back.

A sense of vulnerability washed over you at how she took in every inch of your body, the hunger in her eyes growing. That animalistic stare forever burned into your mind. You could feel her obsession just through her eyes.

A louder chuckle was heard from above as the light perfectly caught the small puddle that was underneath you. The woman placed her cane down and crouched down in front of you, eyeing the slick on the ground. The smirk on her face turned into a shit eating grin.

"Desperate, are we?" She mocked, her tone higher in feigned worry. A sigh left your lungs as you felt yourself clench at her tone.

You gasped as you felt the sting of her palm being brought down on your thigh. "Yes, mommy". You answered in a whimper.

She hummed her approval before fully kneeling down in front of your spread legs and groping at your flesh mindlessly.

"Were you thinking about me? About what I would do to you?". Her tone drove you fucking crazy. The lowness was one thing but her seeming lack of care made you feel like she was the only thing that existed. She had barley touched you and you could feel yourself falling into subspace.

"Yes, ma'am", you responded simply, waiting for permission to say more.

"Anything in particular, darling?". The woman asked, her fingers tracing shapes over your skin.

"I— need to be controlled and told how to please you. I will do anything— anything to feel your touch. No one can make me feel like you can. I need someone—smarter to think for me". You recited, desperation embedded in your voice.

"Oh darling~ I am quite aware that you're nothing but a stupid pet who can't think for themselves. I mean...would a non corrupt person get this wet just by thinking? I don't think so". She purred in an icy tone, her hands slowly making contact with your leaking cunt.

You felt the heartbeat in your core quicken as her thumb played with your slit, collecting some slick and rubbing it into your swollen flesh.

A loud whine escaped you when you felt her fingers part your lips, her hot breath inches from your cunt. You instantly covered your eyes with your forearms at how intensely vulnerable it was to get inspected by such a powerful gaze.

You refrained from bucking your hips at the now constant surges of arousal that all landed in your core. Air trapped in your lungs as you felt her nails dig into you thighs, each ounce of pain that she inflicted drove you further into becoming a mess for her.

"I want you to see the effect that I have on you, darling. Isn't it just so consuming?", She asked rhetorically, her glare pointed up to your face. She hummed once more when you lifted you arms away and looked down at her, unable to quiet the moan ready to make itself known.

"I believe you're more than ready to take me...but I could make you wait longer, see how much desperation you're capable of". She threatened, easily slipping her middle and ring finger inside of you due to your heavily aroused state.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull at finally feeling her inside of you after waiting so patiently.

Cruella pulled out just as quickly. "There's a spot on the floor that needs some attention, darling". She purred, referring to the mess that you made.

You instantly knew what she wanted you to do so you got on your knees once more and lowered your face to the ground. As your tongue reached the ground, your eyes fell closed in a secure sense of submission. Groaning at the taste of yourself, you lapped up every drop until the hardwood was clean.

"Good pet. How about some prolonged torture as a reward?" The woman grinned nefariously.

[hillerskalibrary]

This is my first time being in a fandom so I don't really know - do you think people writing YR fanfiction will die down quickly after the end of the show? I am already super sad about the show ending but no more new fanfiction about these two might be even worse 🙃

Do you maybe have experience from other fandoms? 🧡

Hey anon! To you, as well, apologies for the late reply, especially since this question is clearly important to you - and no doubt to many others.

Now, should I have attempted to write a heartfelt answer on how the YR fandom will indeed probably slowly fade away but that's okay because the important thing is the joy it gave you while it lasted? Yes, yes I should have.

Did I spend half an hour making a graph in Excel instead? ... also yes.

look I may be a failed scientist but I'm still a scientist and you came to my inbox so...

Behold! My beautiful and not-at-all questionable graph of the number of YR posted per month since the release of S1.

Now, first the good news: as you can see, the general trend of fic goes UP! ;) I think it's been clear that S2 has drawn in lots of new fans, and that reflects in the number of fics - not only are there more writers, but more readers = more interaction = more motivation for writers.

Now, what does this tell us about fic numbers after S3?

... absolutely nothing. No, seriously, it is impossible to extrapolate any of this into the future :D. I mean, it is likely the peak will be even higher for the S3 release, and it's safe to say that then it will go down. But how fast, or how low, is hard to tell...

Now, I can see how this may make you sad. And I would like to offer two counterpoints.

ONE It's not done yet. This may seem obvious but- the time to be sad is not here yet. Suppose the sun shines today, and the forecast predicts rain for tomorrow. What are you going to do? Go out and enjoy every ray of sun while you can? Or spend the day inside, sad because you won't be able to go out tomorrow? Look - don't get me wrong, I don't wanna dismiss your feelings. It's just- we'll have time to be sad about it later, you know? Right now fandom is active: great fic is being published, thought provoking discussions are being had, ... . Let's enjoy that!

TWO Whether fandom lives or dies after the show, is partly up to you. I mean it! A fandom lives by grace of its active members. So write fic. Prompt other authors if you can't (and even if you can!). Organize events, challenges, polls, ... There are so many things you can do to keep the fandom going, but it's going to require time and effort. And no, success is not guaranteed. But it's worth it.

Lastly though, as you say yourself: this is your first fandom. A first fandom is always a little special, but after a first... comes a second. Always. It may seem hard to believe, and it may not even be something you necessarily want, but very often, that's how it goes. Fandoms come and go - and that's fine. It sucks too, of course, sometimes. But it's fine. It has to be, because the alternative is for nothing to ever change, and that would suck even harder. So enjoy this wonderful fandom we have, gush about it all with your mutuals, and trust that a new blorbo will find you ;).

[ragecndybars]

AO3 tag game :3

thanks so much for the tag @mvshortcut !!!!! much appreciated, this was a blast to fill out :D

How many works do you have on AO3?

86! Damn, that's more than I remember 🙀 I have been writing pretty fervently since I was pretty young, though, and I transferred all my old fics from fanfiction dot net to AO3, so it's a long stretch of time. All my old wattpad fics are still rotting somewhere though lmaooo I can't even access them anymore bc I forgot my password and I can't reset it bc I used a school email 😔

What's your total AO3 word count?

443,734! When I get to half a million I'm gonna have to throw myself a party. With boba and everything

How many fandoms have you written for, and what are they?

Oof, okay, here we go. A lot of the fandoms I have tagged on AO3 don't really "count" because they're just aggregate tags for the same fandom, so even though AO3 says the number is 48, I'm gonna count the TRUE number as 17. (It got cut down so much because of how many video game series have different games with different fandom tags on AO3, lmao)

Here's the breakdown of the list:

Persona (Mostly Persona 3)

Fire Emblem (Mostly Shadow Dragon and Blazing Sword)

Legend of Zelda

Pokemon

Professor Layton

RWBY

Kid Icarus: Uprising

Earthbound/MOTHER

Red vs. Blue

Voltron Legendary Defender

Naruto

Final Fantasy XV

Harvest Moon

The Mysterious Benedict Society

The Avengers

Animal Crossing

Care Bears (despite having never actually consumed any Care Bears media to my knowledge)

The worst part is that this stupid list would be much, much, MUCH longer if I finished even a quarter of my WIPs 😭 Hell, even just my "Video Games" subfolder in my "Fanfiction" subfolder has more than 17 subfolders in it...

Y'all don't understand how many random fics my ADHD spares you from ever seeing I have no focus

Top five fics by kudos:

Ash and Emotion (Zelda) - Not surprising, I knew this was my most popular fic. It was for a ZeLink zine full of beautiful work :)

Resemblance (Naruto) - bro I always forget people really liked this one. Literally an unedited drabble I did in an hour for a "pride month drabble challenge" which I immediately abandoned. Trans rights I guess

Always Wanna Play (But You Never Wanna Lose) (Persona 3) - This one isn't surprising either, and I'm very proud of this fic so I'm quite chuffed to see it get so much attention... thanks everyone :')

The Beat of Your Heart (Zelda) - Now this one surprised me a lot. This was just a little piece for ZeLink week... Another unedited one, I literally was writing it on the toilet in church so I could get it out in time 😭

Comfort (Zelda) - Another ZeLink week piece, but I knew this one was popular. Also unedited, lmao. I was writing it on the day of my AP Calc finals and I rushed through the exam so I could have more time to work on the fic 😭 I made some Choices that year

Do you respond to comments?

I try to! But I get very anxious about it and tend to work myself into a tizzy, so I often put it off for later and then forget, haha. Then I'll go and respond to all my comments from the last few months and feel even weirder about it... T_T

What's the fic with the angstiest ending you've ever written?

Oof. That's... a hard one, haha. I've written a couple of fics without happy endings, though I typically don't. At least three fics which end on a canonical character death, for instance. But I'd say the ending which made me the most emo writing was Butter, a Mother 3 fic. It ends with Lucas, who's like 9, recently lost his mother, then lost his twin brother (and thinks it's his fault), and is now being neglected by his father, crawling into bed and crying. So yeah, pretty bleak, lmao... but at least he doesn't die I guess?

Do you write crossovers?

I do, but I haven't posted many yet. I'm not always huge on writing them, but I do think about them a lot. I was working on this one Persona 3 x Fire Emblem Awakening crossover but I lost steam on it, and now there's a really lovely crossover on AO3 with a similar premise that I was SO delighted to come across!!! Hope y'all don't mind me taking a break from linking my own work to shill for this one, hehe

Have you ever gotten hate on a fic?

Unfortunately, yes, about six times, I'd say. Even more unfortunately, most of those times happened earlier on in my fanfic writing career, and I was pretty sensitive to hate back then, so I deleted many of the relevant fics, and some of them I don't even have access to myself anymore.

Not gonna talk about the ones that are still upsetting, but I will talk about the funny examples: on a (since deleted) RWBY fic, I said in the author's note that I "wrote them as platonic, but the fic can be read as WhiteRose", and then I got a glowing comment gushing about how good the story was which ended with "but then you had to ruin it by shitting all over WhiteRose, how about you [long suicide bait]". Third most baffling comment I've ever received.

The two most baffling were on different fics, but both were making the same weird accusation??? One was on a ZeLink fic (actually, on Comfort, my fifth most kudos'ed fic of all time now), and y'know I think I'm just gonna show you the comment in question:

The other one was on a long-since deleted fic which focused on both a romantic ship, as well as a fatherly relationship between one member of the ship and the other member's father. I guess having a fatherly relationship with your father-in-law makes your boyfriend actually your brother (and therefore you can't date him anymore). IDK man people are crazy. (tbf the commenter in question thought I was setting it up so that he'd get adopted by his boyfriend's parents, which would give them more of a case, but like... that didn't happen in the fic and wasn't going to. they just guessed at a future plot development and got angry about their guess)

Do you write smut?

I do, but I've never posted any. I've posted one fic that was very suggestive, I'd even call it "NSFW" in a sense, but never anything explicit. Maybe I will in the future? We'll see if I can ever finish anything smutty, lmao.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yep, I had Ultimatum, my longest chapter-fic (and by far my most popular fic in the ff.n days) stolen and posted on another site by somebody. I reported it but never checked back up to see if it got taken down.

I also feel that I've had my work plagiarized pretty damn blatantly in another fandom (I was browsing a certain AU tag and read one which contained all the exact events and sometimes word-for-word dialogue from a fic of mine, just very very slightly rewritten) but the poster had no other works and their writing was definitely extremely juvenile, so... I figured they were a dumb kid and just decided not to raise a fuss. Checked back later and they deleted it, hopefully because they realized they shouldn't do that, so I figure there's no need to start shit over it. Honestly, if that person used that experience as a jumping-off point to write their own fics, then I'm glad it happened, imitation being the highest form of flattery and all.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, though I had someone reach out to me on fanfiction dot net a long time ago and ask permission to translate An Unheard Goodbye, which was super exciting! I agreed, but I don't believe they ever got around to it, or if they did, they never posted it. Still very flattering, and I think about that a lot, hehe.

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

HOW COULD I POSSIBLY ANSWER THIS. UM. UM UH. UHHH UM UH I. UM.

I'm.... gonna say Zelda/Link? I haven't written it in FOREVER but it was such a huge part of me coming into my own as a fanfic author, so I have to give it credit for that.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish, but don’t think you ever will?

.......all of them 😭 god I have so many of these damn things. But for the prime example, I'd point to Ultimatum, an old Pokemon fic that I started in middle school. I got all the way to the climax and I feel bad leaving my readers hanging, but... at this point, if I did continue it, I would honestly have to rewrite the whole fic first just to be in line with my current understanding of the characters.

What are your writing strengths?

Y'know, I think I get character voices down extremely well in a way which elevates my dialogue and narration. That's probably the thing I'm most proud of in my own writing, at least.

What are your writing weaknesses?

BREVITY. Or the utter, glaring lack of it. I have also been known to muddy up my writing with an overabundance of A) adverbs, B) unneeded clauses tacked onto perfectly good sentences, and C) em-dashes 😭

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fics?

I think it's dope as fuck, but I currently can't really accomplish it because I'm monolingual (NOT FOR LONG IF I HAVE ANYTHING TO SAY ABOUT IT, I'M COMING FOR YOU, JAPANESE FLUENCY!!!!). I will also say that I don't like when authors will write characters having a story-important conversation in another language, then put the translations in the end notes or something, requiring you to either read the chapter confused or else keep scrolling back down and back up.... I think even that's totally fine to do if what's being said isn't plot-relevant, though.

What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

Naruto. I hadn't read or watched Naruto btw, I had only read other Naruto fanfics. I have spoken on this topic many times, but it remains hilarious to me. Also, so many of my old Naruto fics are lost to the Wattpad times, but I will take this opportunity to once again share a quote which I recently managed to unearth from my long-lost unsung magnum opus:

Never ever will I intentionally attain the level of comedy gold that I managed while writing completely dead serious Naruto fanfiction on Wattpad in 2012.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written so far?

See above. How could I ever top that fic.

In all seriousness, this question always makes me sweat, but I think I'm gonna say Oil, a slightly older fic from my EliHec days which I absolutely obsessed over for months before finally managing to finish. And, unlike most of the fics that I obsess over, I think the obsession actually made it come out better rather than worse, haha.

thanks again for the tag!!!! as for me, I'll tag uhh, hm, @wizard-finix @dreamedge @misty-wisp @flyfish1999 and any other AO3 writers who see this!!! (idk how many of you use AO3 and most of the MBS authors I know have probably already been tagged hehe but anybody who wants to should absolutely feel free!!!!!!!)

[everythingnerdyxoxo]

The Virus - Chapter Six- Chapter Six – 29th January 2020 (X7237) - Fairy Tail Fanfiction

Have also seen that my fanfiction was nominated for the Guild Awards in best drama! I would like to thank anyone who voted for this fanfiction for that! It's given me a real boost for my fanfiction writing! :D <3

Lucy, Happy and Natsu walked side by side down the streets of Clover Town, noticing the lack of tourists. ‘Now remember Natsu, we need to ask the pedestrians here nicely if they know anything about Onibus Town.’ She gave the pink haired man a cautious look as he started sniffing the ground around her.

‘What are you doing?’ Lucy couldn’t help but notice all the attention at the man by her feet as he sniffed at the ground like a dog.

‘I can smell something, something odd in the air. It’s stronger towards those mountains.’ He pointed towards the mountain pass which divided Onibus Town to Clover Town.

‘What does it smell like? Like magic? Do you think you could trace it to the source of the virus?!’ Lucy looked towards the mountain pass, an ominous feeling overcoming her.

‘I don’t know. I can’t tell if it’s a person, magic, or something else, it’s something I haven’t smelt before. Let’s check it out!’ Before Lucy could even speak Natsu had already grabbed her by the hand, running towards through the city houses and out towards the mountains in front, pulling a complaining Lucy behind him.

Juvia and Gray stood outside the mansion of the mayor of Clover Town.

‘Geez, if I knew he lived in such a fancy house, maybe we should have taken up his offer of staying here.’ Gray crossed his arms as he stared up at the home in front of him, gaining, an amused smile from the bluenette in front of him.

Juvia rang the bell, awaiting the response as she twirled the fabric of her sleeves in nervousness. She and Gray spent a lot of time alone together these days, but it still made her nervous. Just being close to the ice mage made her heart race so fast she could hear it beating in her ears.

The door opened, a young woman, presuming to be the staff of the house allowed them inside and directed them to a room to await the mayor.

‘The room was full of books, with a seating arrangement in the middle. Juvia and Gray sat alongside one another on the sofa as they waited. ‘Lucy and Levy would love it here.’ Juvia smiled at the ice mage beside her as she took in the room around her.

‘Yeah, they sure would. Never saw much point in books me. I’d rather be out doing stuff than sat in reading.’ Gray had raised his arms up behind his head, not noticing the lack of top he now did not wear.

Juvia chuckled to herself as she reached down for the top and folded it to put on the armrest beside her. ‘I don’t mind reading, I prefer romance novels myself, sometimes the occasional adventure book.’

‘That doesn’t surprise me, that’s where you get most of your ideas from, I guess?’ he gave a genuine smile to the woman beside him, gaining a reddening blush from her in response.

Before she had much chance to respond the mayor and his wife entered the room with a document in hand.

‘Hello fairy tail mages, a pleasure to see you both once again.’ He gave them a genuine smile, but concern laced his features.

‘Sorry for turning up unannounced, we were just hoping you may know something more about this situation since we last spoke.’ Gray sat with his elbows on his knees, unbothered by the wife’s response to his half-naked form.

The mayor sighed in response, placing the document on the table in front of them. Juvia picked it up reading it aloud to Gray and herself.

‘Due to unforeseen circumstances, we have stopped all travel through the country of Fiore. We continue to investigate the growing virus located in Onibus Town and to protect the majority we must isolate the minority. We are aware of those who may be travelling for jobs and give them 24 hours to return to their place of living. All mainland transportation with cease X7237. We apologise for the disruption to usual services.’

‘This is from the magic council?’ Juvia stared at Gray in disbelief who looked angrily back.

‘What do they mean protect the majority by isolating the minority! Our friends are stuck in Onibus Town! Only 24 hours? That’s not enough time for everyone to drop everything and return! What about their jobs?!’ Gray had stood staring expectantly at the mayor in front of him.

‘We are just as outraged as yourself. We still know so little about this virus, I am set to release this information via lacrima in the next 15 minutes. The people will panic, the train stations will become overwhelmed by this added information.’ The mayor looked pained as his wife took his hand in support.

Juvia stood herself, putting a hand on Gray’s shoulder, hoping to calm him. ‘Gray-Sama, there is nothing the mayor can do about this. We need to contact the others and speak to the guild. If the train station will be closed tomorrow, we may have to travel back tonight.’

Gray looked at her with understanding, nodding apologetically at the couple in front of him. ‘Thank you for showing us this. If we find out anything else, we will let you know.’

The mayor nodded in agreement with the ice mage as he walked towards the exit aside Juvia. ‘I shouldn’t have lost my temper with the man.’

‘Gray-sama, I’m sure the mayor understands, everyone is under a lot of pressure. He seemed very understanding.’ She gave him one of her brilliant smiles as she handed him back his top.

‘You’re right. We should meet up with the others and let them know, though they may hear the lacrima bulletin themselves before them.’

Erza, Carla, and Wendy headed towards the train station, seeing the groups of people huddling around each of the ticket booths, so much confusion between them all.

‘Everyone is panicking. Do you think we should try and help?’ Wendy looked up at Erza expectantly who was assessing the situation. Before she had chance to respond the station speakers clicked into action and a voice spoke with an announcement from the mayor of Clover Town.

‘Citizens of Clover Town. I understand this is a distressing time for everyone but please, everyone please try not to panic. I have been contacted by the Magic Council who are investigating the current situation. Please be rest assured all travel is to continue as normal today and to cease from tomorrow onwards until we know further information. Anyone who is visiting please be rest assured all accommodation will be paid for by Clover Town authorities until we know more about the situation. As I say, please do not panic, I shall notify you all with more information once we have it.’

There was a large click as the announcement stopped and a silence that lasted several minutes before once again the huddles of people surrounding the ticket booths became overcome once more.

‘Erza?’ Wendy looked up at her expectantly once more as she continued to take in the information.

‘Erza! Wendy!’ Gray called out to them as both he and Juvia ran up behind them. ‘Did you hear the announcement? What’s the plan?’

Wendy, Gray, Carla, and Juvia all looked expectantly at Erza who still stared at the ticket booths in front of her with concentration.

‘First of all, we will help these people, direct everyone into lines and aid the station staff. Then we will locate Lucy and Natsu if they have uncovered anything. I’m guessing from the announcement the two of you were unable to get anything from the Mayor?’ They responded with a sideways nod.

‘The Mayor knows nothing more than we do; we saw the letter that the Magic Council sent to them.’ Juvia locked eyes with Erza, seeing the concern in her face before heading towards the booths with the others and directing the pedestrians into single file lines. There was some resistance but with Erza’s dominance they got their way.

Lucy and Natsu lay on their stomachs as they gazed over the hill ledge. In front of them they could see the lights from Onibus Town. They had already managed to evade a section of guards who had erected a barrier between the towns and now they could see ahead of them a mounting military presence.

‘At least we know the council are doing something.’ Lucy gazed worryingly at Natsu, whose face was full of concentration.

‘Happy will be back soon. We’ll head in once he gives us an update. Hopefully he can find Lisanna and Laki.’

Natsu had wanted to jump straight in, rushing through the military presence and burning his way through until finding them, but luckily Lucy’s influence had paid off, convincing him to allow Happy to scout ahead. Her anger at losing so many jewels at their last mission playing heavily into their conversation.

‘Lisanna! Laki!’

Happy flew at great speed, looking down at the almost ghost town beneath him. The town was empty, all houses shut up and markets and shops closed. There was a sense of unease as he flew through the empty streets.

He called out their names repeatedly, noticing the cautious gazes of the people in their windows before noticing a young white-haired woman ahead of him, waving fervently from her window.  

‘Happy!’ Lisanna cried as she noticed him with a smile, but once he got close enough her smile changed to one of concern. ‘Don’t come too close! We don’t know if we are contagious yet!’

‘Contagious? Are you guys alright? Natsu and Lucy are just over the hill! I can bring them to help you!’ Happy floated across from Lisanna in the open window.

‘We’re fine Happy, all we’ve been told is to stay indoors to avoid contamination. It seems to be some kind of cold like illness, but it causes magic depletion. They delivered some leaflets through the door of our B+B. I don’t have any symptoms, Laki has a cough but nothing serious so don’t worry about us! You guys need to get back to Magnolia! Tell Mira that were okay! We don’t want to risk anything spreading.’ Lisanna smiled positively at Happy, tension leaving him as they spoke.

‘But you’ll be stuck here, aren’t they letting you come home?’ Happy wanted to embrace Lisanna, floating stationary, heading her demand.

‘I don’t know Happy, there was talk of transport for us, and other people who have been working jobs here, but there are too many cases here now, you can’t risk catching this Happy, you and the others have to go back, we’ll be fine, the longer you’re here, the more likely Natsu is to do something stupid and catch this as well!’ Lisanna looked seriously at Happy, who nodded in agreement.

‘Do you know anything else about this disease? Is it magic? Where has it come from?’ Happy looked around, the sounds of guards patrolling nearby getting his attention.

‘We don’t know, but maybe Lucy could see if there is anything about magical diseases with Horologium? He may be able to help? Maybe this has happened before, there could be a cure? People are sick, but I don’t think its too serious, not yet anyway. Were fine Happy, so please, leave before you catch something.’ Lisanna smiled again, looking around the streets below for the voices that were coming closer.

‘Okay… I’ll be back with more information when we find out! Keep safe Lisanna.’ Happy and Lisanna, smiled at one another, it felt wrong to leave her, but he flew back towards Natsu and Lucy, avoiding the sight of the patrols below.

 Makarov stood in the great hall of Grand Magic Council. The room was empty, not a guard in sight as he waited for Mest to arrive.

He had gotten through security with difficulty, the place was on near lockdown with the hushed discussions of the virus circulating through Onibus Town.

‘Master Makarov. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.’ Mest walked in, his council robes draped over his shoulders.

‘Mest. I’m hoping you asked me here to give me an update on the current situation.’ Makarov spoke seriously to the man. He could tell he was anxious, the sweat beading on his brow.

‘I do. It’s not good news.’

[ginnyrules27]

Alright ya’ll, people asked to read this so here you go! The short story that I wrote (for a grade mind you) that after researching to make sure I was being authentic (as I am half Irish on my father’s side and I’d done a historical short story about my heritage on my mom’s side the previous year), my professor gave me an ‘F’ and called me ‘racist’. Killed any want or need to write for the rest of the year too--had I not worked at Disney and discovered Descendants, the Choosing series might never have been born. 

You hear that Professor? You almost killed one of my popular fanfiction series before I even knew it’d be a thing! 

As I said before, concrit is welcomed -- just be gentle! I literally wrote this the night before it was due so I know there’re some issues :D 

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

A Day In 1897

Erin sighed as she shifted into her chair. Liam’s letter said that he would be home around nine, however the chimes from the town clock signaling nine o’clock had come and gone, and yet Liam still wasn’t home. The other lodgers who shared the tenement with them had fallen asleep hours ago, shifting on the makeshift mattresses of straw and blankets to make the stone floor a little more comfortable.

As the town clock struck twelve, the door opened with a loud creak; something that Erin feared would wake the others. However, they just turned in their sleep—oblivious to the world around them.

“Welcome home Liam,” Erin whispered, putting a hand in front of her mouth to prevent a yawn from escaping. She tired easily now that she was well into her ninth month of pregnancy in addition to the long hours she had spent during the previous day to make the room look decent for Liam’s arrival. Liam, it seemed, was just as tired as she was but he hid it better than she did; straightening up and engulfing Erin into a big warm hug that she’d missed these past five months.

“How’s the baby?” she heard him mumble as she felt the pressure of his chin on her shoulder. Erin could hear the worry in his voice and she couldn’t blame him. This was their third try for a child, Erin being unable to carry to term twice before. She didn’t know how losing this child would affect Liam.

“The baby’s fine,” Erin whispered in response, handing Liam a threadbare pillow to put behind his back. She turned to light their only candle and longed for the luxury of a gas lantern. “We both are, don’t worry about us. You need rest. What did you do this time? Canal building? Farming?”

“Building a sewer drain down in Brooklyn,” she heard his faint reply and sighed. Liam was working himself to death in order to provide for his family. Erin honestly didn’t know how much more Liam could take. Every time she saw him, he seemed more and more drained and withdrawn. His once thick brown hair was thinning rapidly and graying around the temples. His face was now marred with lines in the corner of his eyes and by his lips, making his face appear more like a well-worn book with the corners folded over.

“Liam, this needs to stop,” Erin knelt down as best she could next to Liam, using the arm of his chair as support. “Your body can’t take much more of this.”

“It’s not for long, Erin,” Liam muttered, his eyes fighting to stay open with every passing minute. He shifted slightly in his seat. “Just until I’ve saved up enough for us to get out of this city and move out west.”

Erin slowly got up from her position, wincing as her ankles called out in agony. Liam always claimed that they wouldn’t be in New York for long but the jobs he worked barely gave them enough to gather food. Erin couldn’t imagine being able to pay for one train ticket let alone three!  

Lost in thought, Erin didn’t even notice when she jostled the tin of sewing supplies on the table. The clattering of sewing needles, thread and thimbles across the wooden table brought her back to reality and she quickly gathered them up and put them back into the tin.

The blue and white tin was a gift from her mother on her wedding day and the only reason they hadn’t pawned it off was because Liam wouldn’t let her. He had insisted that earning the household funds was his responsibility and that it wasn’t fair to her to deal with the uncertainty.

Turning to Liam, Erin felt a soft smile grace her lips as she saw the sight of him sleeping in his chair, his chin drooped down onto his chest and the soft snores filled the room with a melody better than any form of music Erin could think of. Bringing a blanket and draping it over him, Erin curled up in a chair of her own. Looking over the despondent room, her eyes rested on the sewing supplies as she too lost her battle with consciousness.

The next day, Erin awoke to a house full of women and small children. The men had already left to try to get jobs in the city, a ritual that was becoming almost routine. Erin got up slowly, wincing as a spasm of pain ran through her lower back. Shrugging it off as a side effect of the odd position she’d slept in the night before, Erin managed to get up.

“Good morning, dear,” an older woman noticed her and smiled as she dished some leftover colcannon from the icebox. “I’m sorry I didn’t stay up in time to welcome Liam.”

“That’s quite alright, Eithne,” Erin returned the smile as she waddled over to the communal table where all the other women were gathered, along with some of the smaller children who were unable to go out to try to get small jobs of their own. The room felt warmer than usual, even with the front door open to allow for some air to enter. Even the air felt heavy, as if an invisible weight was pressing down with all its might.

“Did he get home alright?” a younger woman asked, her blue eyes shining with curiosity. “The city’s awfully dangerous at night.”  

“He didn’t get home until midnight Siobhán. Even criminals need to sleep,” Erin sighed, catching herself before she tripped over the uneven floor. As another woman guided her to a seat, Erin accepted the dish of food from Eithne. Lately, the only thing she could really stomach was colcannon—and thankfully, the main ingredients of potatoes, cabbage, and butter made it budget-friendly. “I hope he finds a job soon. I’m worried about him.”

“He’ll be fine,” Siobhán told her with a smile, rubbing her own belly. “I’m surprised he’s gone back out. He only just got back.”

“Liam probably wants to get a head start,” Erin told her, digging into her meal. “After all, several jobs have become available. It said so in the papers that the economy is improving since that episode in 1893.”

“Did you hear about Commissioner Roosevelt? Apparently he tried to get on the National Republican ticket!”

“Again?” Erin chuckled. “Well, he’s stubborn, I’ll give him that. At least he’s doing some good for the police department. At least now police officers can’t bribe their way to the top anymore.”

““Roosevelt’s made some powerful enemies though,” Siobhán remarked, picking up one of the young children who was attempting to climb onto the table. “Closing the saloon on Sundays for one. My cousin Niall told me that most of the coppers nearly revolted after hearing about that.”

“Well, they’ll just have to get used to it,” Eithne told them as she began mending a pair of trousers at the table. All the women did some form of mending to earn money while the men went out to search for jobs. It was needed, and if Erin was honest, it was fun to help provide for the household in some way. “By the looks of it, Roosevelt’s not going anywhere. But enough of this. It’s not for young children to hear.”

She was right, as she often was, but that didn’t stop the disappointed mutters coming from the younger women. Erin sighed and finished her plate of Colcannon before getting up to clean off her dish. The room was small enough—it wouldn’t do to make it smaller with clutter. As she tided up, her thoughts strayed to Liam. She hadn’t been able to greet him with his favorite meal when he came home, but being one day late wouldn’t make a difference would it?

“I’m going to the market,” she announced, startling the others. “Does anyone want to join me?”

“Are you sure, dear?” Eithne inquired. “A woman in your condition shouldn’t travel.”

“I’ve gone to market before,” Erin reminded the older woman. “I won’t be long. Just a trip to the butcher and maybe the grocer.”

“If you’re sure, dear,” Eithne frowned, but turned to prevent one of the children from falling off a chair. Erin sighed. She straightened up her dress, fixed her hair, and grabbed a nearby basket along with some cash from a tin before heading out into the oppressive summer heat.  

The city bustled with movement as Erin walked through the dark streets of the tenements. She hated living there, but she certainly preferred it to living on the streets. The butcher’s was a few blocks from where she lived so Erin had a bit of a walk before reaching it, having to stop twice to catch her breath and rub her still aching back.

In all honestly, she didn’t mind. Unlike Liam, who yearned for the wide-open world of the western United States, she preferred the hustle and bustle of New York City. She just wished she could live in an area of the city with a little more room.

“Hello, Ronan,” Erin called upon entering the butcher’s shop. It was a small store with very little light and the constant smell of meat. Every wall seemed to have some manner of meat hanging from a rack behind the counter; allowing for a small amount of floor space for customers in front of the counter. “Have you any good sales today?”

“Aye,” Ronan nodded, looking up from his paper to smile at the smaller woman. “Hello deirfiúr.”

“Brother!”

“Ah, a brother can’t greet his sister the way he’s been doing it for twelve years without a reprimand?” Ronan chortled at the faux-peeved look on Erin’s face. “What can I do you for, Erin?”

“Do you have any pork sausage or pig’s totters?”

“Liam get a job?” he asked, looking surprised. “Normally, you tend to avoid the pricy stuff.”

“No, Liam’s still looking,” Erin sighed. “I was just thinking I’d make him a good meal tonight since I couldn’t last night.”

Ronan shook his head in amusement. “Well, at least he’s still looking. If I was in his shoes, I’d given up by now.”

“Well, thank goodness you’re not Liam,” Erin stated, her voice stilted at the implied insult. “Now, about the meat?”

“Sorry, Erin,” Ronan sighed. “But the meat’s too expensive, and I’m not going to be the one to put stress on you now.”

“Please?” she begged. “I’d love to make Liam a good meal for once.”

She thought for a moment, looking around the shop. While she knew her brother would do anything for her, she wasn’t going to be the one to take advantage of their relationship to get cheaper meat.

“If pork sausage and pig’s totters are too expensive, then do you have some pig’s blood?” Erin asked after a few minutes of silence.

“Aye, that I can sell you,” Ronan smiled. “Going to make some black pudding?”

“It might be the one thing to make him happy,” Erin smiled, paid for the item and bid her brother farewell. She thankfully had the barley and seasoning at home,  and so made her way back as quickly as she could, which wasn’t that quick, considering she was nearing her time. Her swollen ankles made the short walk seem unbearable. Sweating from the heat, Erin got back and stopped in the doorway and placed her hands on her hips as she tried to catch her breath, wincing as a spasm of pain ran through her body again.

“Tired, dear?” Eithne asked as she picked up her mending from the table to make room for the items. “I told you a woman in your condition shouldn’t travel.”

“Yes, Eithne,” Erin nodded. “But I was able to get a special treat that I’ll make for Liam tonight.”

“Oh, what is it?” Siobhán asked as she got up from her seat, one hand on her belly to balance herself, to offer the seat to Erin. Despite the similar appearances in belly size, Erin was farther along than Siobhán.

“Pig’s blood,” Erin said, taking the offered seat. “I’m planning on making a black pudding for dinner tonight!”

That caused the entire room to gasp in excitement. The last time they’d had something like that was back when Liam first got the job that took him away for five months.

“Do you need help?” a young child asked, eager to be included in the process. A sharp pang along her side stopped Erin from answering as she gasped in pain. The pang was sharper than the ones she had been feeling all day. The damp feeling running down her legs and trickling down to the floor ensured her assumption that it was indeed time for her child to enter the world.

“Erin!” Eithne exclaimed in shock, but then settled as she realized what was happening. Looking down, she addressed the child who asked if he could aid in dinner preparations. “Senan, I need you to go run and get Liam. He’ll be with your father this time.”

The young child nodded and ran out the door as if the hounds of hell were on his heels. Eithne then looked over at the eldest girl in the room and began to address her.

“Niamh, you’re in charge of all the younger children. Make sure they don’t get underfoot.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she nodded, her braided brown hair slapping her in the face as she did so. Ushering the children into the other side of the room, Niamh couldn’t help but notice the other women putting sheets up to hide the sight from the children.

“Siobhán, get a pot of hot water! Saoirse, you need to go get towels!” Eithne commanded. Despite being in the country the longest, hints of her Irish accent could be heard when she was upset, rattled or focused. “It’s alright, Erin. God wants you to have this baby now.”

Erin nodded, sweat matting her brown hair to her head, and she shut her eyes as a wave of pain passed over her. “Oh cac!” she cried as the pain intensified.

“Erin!” Eithne scolded. “Language!”

Erin didn’t respond, but instead focused on breathing as Siobhán showed her. Having given birth to five healthy children, Erin figured the woman knew what she was doing. A crash resonated through the room as Liam bounded through the door.

“Erin!”

“I’m fine!” Erin gasped out, clutching Siobhán’s hand for dear life. Sweat matted her hair and the heat from the day seemed almost overpowering. The pain seemed to get closer and closer together with each spasm. Liam, Erin assumed, had either gone to wait with the children or was out in the hall.

“Do you want me to send Liam out to get a midwife?” Siobhán asked, her own face glistening with sweat.

“There’s no time,” Eithne responded, coming up from monitoring Erin’s progress. “Erin, you need to push now.”

Erin began pushing, her face changing colors from the pale it had been to a bright red. Tears began mingling with the dried sweat, running down her mouth to allow Erin the taste of salt on occasion. However, a painful sensation unlike the one she was experiencing gave her pause.

“What happened?” she gasped, her voice no higher than a whisper.

“You just have a little tear dear,” Eithne told her, not looking up from watching the progress. She turned to whisper something to Siobhán, who nodded and ran off behind the sheet. “Lay your head back down, Erin. You need to relax.”

That was easier said than done, Erin thought bitterly. But the thought quickly left her thoughts as another strain ran through her body.

“Push, Erin!” Siobhán encouraged her, returning from the task Eithne had given her. Erin resumed pushing, the sweat returning to her face as her wet dress stuck to her body like a stamp on parchment. After several more pushes, the sensations stopped and the room quieted. Out of the corner of her eye, Erin could see a small bundle in Siobhán’s arms.

But if that’s the baby, Erin thought, then why isn’t it crying? That’s what babies do right?

After all, all five of Siobhán’s children had cried when they arrived into the world.

“What’s wrong?” Erin asked. “What’s wrong with my baby?”

None of the women made to answer as panic enveloped Erin like a blanket. Was the baby mute? Feeble-minded? Was it deformed somehow?

“Erin…” Siobhán began to speak but stopped as tiny whimpers started to form from the bundle and a smile appeared on her face. “Your child’s fine.”

Erin’s shoulders slumped in peace. The baby was fine. After two failed and painful pregnancies, here was proof that she was a good woman. A good wife.

“Let me stitch you up, dear,” Eithne said softly as Saoirse handed her Erin’s blue and white sewing tin. Erin didn’t even notice each prick of the needle as it passed through her skin. All she knew, lying there covered in sweat and blood, was that she was finally a mother.

After it was finished, Siobhán placed the baby in her mother’s arms. “Congratulations Erin. It’s a girl.”

Eithne, it seemed, had left the room as she re-entered with Liam in tow, who rushed to the side of his wife and new daughter.

“What do you want to name her?” Erin whispered, panting softly and struggling to keep her eyes open as she looked at her husband.

“I was thinking we could name her after your mam,” Liam said. “Nora Cleary has a good ring to it.”

“I like it,” Erin smiled and relaxed as she continued to hold her new child—the newest edition to their family.

[thunderwetter]

Current status of my "projects" on this blog!

Asks:

Headcanons for First Aid: I got some ideas, I just have to sit down and actually make it a post (Finished!)

Headcanons for Tracks: Again, I have a thing or two, but I'll reread some stuff to get a better idea

Headcanons for Rumble and Frenzy: Hell yeah, brain full of ideas, I love these two but I wanna do the earlier asks first!

For the headcanon asks I usually take 1-2 hours to write a full reply bc I always double-check with the wiki and the source material to make sure I didn't get too carried away :'D

Fanfiction:

Warden's Pet: Chapter 2 first third done, starting with the spicy stuff now. it's probably gonna have three chapters when I'm done bc I keep having new ideas Ch3 is in the works!

Fanart:

(NSFW) Prowl is like, 75% done in terms of the sketch, he's not gonna be a full render though bc I don't have the energy for that atm

Did an AU Frenzy Sketch to learn how to draw Transformers bc it requires a very different thinking compared to my usual art He's far from finished though xD

There's also a half-finished Winter Jazz

And a sketch for the Color Wheel Challenge with G1 Autobots (and I have the Decepticon Wheel planned out aswell)

"But Thunderwave, why do you have so many projects running when you are busy with your university assignment?"

Bc jumping between all these projects is my version of a break. I cannot relax. Never. I'm Ultra Magnussing this, taking a break from work by working on something else xD

I've been working on this stupid assignment for months now, I'm tired of it, but I'm almost done!

[aenslem]

okay, i want to touch more on things you said in your last reply, but i just watched the episode Justice and asjlkdjlasdja WHAT THE FUCK guys! x'D i love this show and that ship, they're horrible and so sweet and awful and lovely ♥

i have a couple of things i need to do now, so i can't watch the next for half an hour to an hour or so, and i am so very impatient to keep watching xD

i do enjoy Wray and TJ too (Ming-Na Wen 😍)! and i'm enjoying Greer a lot, a bit surprised by that as i hated him at first xD and idk, the kids are okay i guess, i like them well enough xD

okay, gotta go do the things, but i'm looking forward to seeing more of Tired Dad Young, and, uh, Rush??? x'D

i am also very impatient to finish this watch so i can look at your sgu gifs, it's nice to have that to look forward to =D

/that Stargate anon who likes Rodney x'D

oh yeAH justice! that moment of them on the planet lives rent free in my mind they are the worst and the best thing in this show honestly

get ready Rodney anon, there gonna be so much happening in the next episodes, I don't want to spoiler anything so I am not saying, I guess I am doing that with gifs but they hardly show any plot, just my two disaster men having stare contest here and there lmao

but I loved those episodes so much on my rewatch

I disliked Greer in the beginning too, I guess it's default mode for these characters :D well, now they are okay for me too, cos I got to know them from the later season + fanfiction, cos they are much more interesting when fans are writing about them, so reading fanfiction made me love those characters more, thanks to amazing writers out there <3

they are both gonna be so so tired lmao they need like few years of vacation

[muse-write]

6., 12., 10., 25., 18.

6. Are there any fics from others you reread all the time?

Yes! Similarly to books, I don’t want to reread things a lot in case I get tired of them and they lose their magic.

Some that I reread:

A Right Different Tale After All by hollersandholmes (there are over 50 works in this series and every one of them is worth a reread if you’ve read them all in order at least once)

Aint No Magic Aint No Lie by iguessimgonnamissthepantyraid. A great MCU AU in which Loki joins the Guardians and finds family and belonging. The second in a multi-part series.

everything i have ever learned by fialleril

10. Is there a fic that got a different response than you were expecting?

A Secret or Two got WAY more traction that I expected it to, based on the smaller numbers of the previous works in the series. I still don’t really get why—I assume it’s because it’s tagged as Luke & Darth Vader? It’s just funny because the work directly before it has less than half the hits, probably because it features an OC (i guess?)

Also my 2 Howl’s Moving Castle fics have gone way better than I expected them to, especially for short things I wrote up in a few hours max. Hmc (book-centered) isn’t really a fandom i associate with a thriving fanfiction community, so it’s been surprising that I’ve gotten over 1k hits on each of them.

12. Do you have a playlist for your current WIP(s)? Share it!

Soo many…the one for The Council of Elessar is pretty long and the playlist has changed over time as my concept for the work has evolved, so I’ll list the songs that fit it best.

Dear Wormwood—The Oh Hellos

The Horror and the Wild—Amazing Devil

Exeunt—The Oh Hellos

The Old Ways—Loreena McKennitt

Neptune—Sleeping at Last

Southern—Sleeping at Last

White Leaves—Bear McCreary

Wave After Wave—Sleeping at Last

Piano Concerto No. 2 in F Major—Dmitri Shostakovich

18. What’s one of your favorite lines you’ve written in a fic?

I really like the dialogue I wrote for these great and noble deeds, particularly this exchange:

“I’m not a kid,” Walter protested. “I turned 19 the other day.”

“Yeah? Congrats. This how you always planned on celebrating?”

It makes much more sense in context (think D-Day, Omaha Beach, serious gut wound, the works). It was a challenge to keep to a different writing style and it was fun to write some banter.

I also like this line from what i have left behind i count now no loss: And then with that, the group became merry once more, and they filed through a forest lit with silver and gold lamps imitating the lost light of the Trees, and they came up through the trees to Nerdanel’s home, which would not be empty this night, nor any other.

25. Have you ever upset yourself with your own writing?

A few times—though not, I think, with anything I’ve written recently, and not with anything i’ve published to ao3. I don’t get extremely emotional with a lot of what I write—it happens sometimes, but mostly when I’m projecting something onto the characters or circumstances. It’s always memorable when I do, and it’s mostly happened with original works.

[historicfailure]

time to actually speak up again and not be silent for weeks without notice, sorry for that one

Heya everyone :D 

Sorry for the long silence, I’m swamped with work and other stuff atm. Though, from time to time, I remember that you guys still deserve to know what is going on and if - yes, if - I will soon post something again.

The honest and short answer: I don’t know.

The long and still honest answer: I really hoped that I would be able to maintain a halfway regular fanfiction writing and posting schedule while I do fulltime-work. I underestimated being an adult who works 40+ hours a week, and also seriously overestimated my motivation/desire to write. 

Because that is what I’m lacking at the moment. I might have ideas, sometimes (although, those sparks also become rarer these days) but I don’t have any drive to write anything down. I don’t know why this is happening, and I wish that wasn’t the case at all, but it happens, and I hate every second of it. I hate myself for not being able to finish fics - looking at you, Work Under Water, and my long time nemesis, Find The Right One - and I hate that I cannot bring myself to continue some other fics I have been working on behind the scenes. 

I’m tired. Not of writing itself, but generally. Just constantly tired. If I could spend the entire day in bed and then some, I would do that in a heartbeat. Fuck, give me a week of time-off and I would do that, still. Maybe that’s also an entirely different issue I don’t want and can’t delve into here, but it is what it is at the moment.

For you guys, that means nothing else than having to wait, unfortunately. For now, I’m trying my best and push myself to write a bit more, but I’m close to giving up on that one and going the next step: going into hiatus. I don’t know what else to do at this point. I already said something akin to this in the last personal post I did, but I’m out of options. 

For now, I’m trying my best. I finished a fic for Obito Week next week and am close to finish a second one. I’m also working on a long-term work of mine, which I already mentioned a few times to you guys, and hope to make enough progress to post it at some point. For that one though, I have no timeline at all, so sorry for that vague-posting I guess. I also don’t know when the last chapter of Work Under Water will be done, as I have no idea what to do with it. Literally - it’s around 20 pages long and I’m still stuck if I should cut it in half or finish and then post it in whole. Or if I should just delete the last 3 pages and go back to rewrite and give the entire chapter a different turn. 

As you can see, there’s lots going on in my mind and in terms about what happens in the future to this blog. I don’t know what will happen, only hope that it gets better at some point.

Until then, stay safe and sound you guys. I also hope you all have a wonderful week. ^^ 

[madaboutmunson]

Don't Stand So Close To Me - Part 15 - Dancing In The Moonlight

Part 14 | Chapter list | Eddie Munson Fanfiction Masterlist

Warnings: Swearing, crude humour, romance, angst, food, bullying

Summary: Lyra attends Hellfire, and the Club go back to Lyra's for an after party, but with everything going on will Eddie's intentions all go according to his plan?

Word Count: 6K

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Author note: I cannot for the life of me work out/read how 1st edition D&D is played, so I'm using my couple of years experience of playing 5th Edition to help me write the D&D game

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Eddie! Come on, man! You can't do that. She's your girlfriend! You should at least give her another chance at the roll!!" Gareth yells down the table.

Lyra stares at the one on the twenty-sided die.

"Gareth the Great, you know as well as I do, at this table, there are rules, and my love life", he shoots a wink at Lyra ", is not a factor in those rules changing. At this table, you are my players." he says firmly to Gareth, pointing at the table, before turning back to Lyra, "Sorry, sweetheart that's a critical fail," he says gently but with a smirk on his face.

"So with that mighty swing of a mace, missing the ogre wildly. It's now their turn in the initiative." Eddie is half kneeling on the table and looks from under his hair at Lyra, still with that same little smirk. "Unfortunately, you're still engaged with them so..." Eddie adjusts his seating position again, "The ogre stands over you laughing cruelly ', Is that all you've got, tiny human?' as he raises his great club above his head, waiting to crash down on you."

Lyra can hear a die roll from behind his screen, and Eddie takes a small sharp intake of breath, "That is gonna hit for sure. Any last words?" He asks Lyra sinisterly, tapping his newly steepled fingers together with glee.

She flops back in her chair, disappointed. She hadn't expected to, but this game had been delightful to play, plus Eddie was here, which meant Eddie often had, over the last few hours, leaned over her pointing out which modifiers she needed to add onto the die roll, or why she couldn't use that spell just now, or how far she could move. It took all her strength not to reach out and touch or lean against him. Something about him in the setting lit a fire in Lyra, which was occasionally quite unmanageable. If it wasn't for everyone else at the table also requiring to be engaged with Eddie's storytelling, she probably would have played up to it a little more.

"Well, I guess knowing their time in this world is coming to an end, they would hold their holy amulet," Lyra says as she clutches at an imagined pendant at her chest and closes her eyes, "and say a final prayer to their deity. Asking for forgiveness and to be welcomed into their hall upon death."

Eddie shakes some dice in his hands, and Lyra opens her eyes. But this time rolls them on the hand-drawn map stretched across the table. All eyes watch them as they tumble across the drawn terrain until they finally come to a stop. A one on each die, "That's six points of damage."

Lyra checks over her character sheet that Eddie had filled out for her, "Wait...six, did you say?" Eddie nods. Lyra scrubs out the number eight and replaces it with a two, putting her hands to her face, "I'm still up!! Barely, but still up."

Lyra's enthusiasm makes Eddie grin as he turns back to the rest of the table and looms over his dungeon master's screen, "Your Cleric is bloodied and beaten, swaying from side to side in a vain attempt to keep upright. They're praying for a miracle, some divine intervention, but do any of you have it?" Eddie's eyes scan each of the other players at the table and finally land on Kevin, "I do believe it's the turn of your mage."

Kevin looks at Eddie, the map, Lyra and then back to his sheet, "How is the ogre looking?"

"This grotesque giant has taken quite a beating, but he's got a little left in the tank," Eddie says.

Kevin taps his pencil on his forehead, "Ok, I was gonna save this, but as a delicate little wizard, I can't really afford to have our only conscious healer out of the game, so...I'm gonna aim a fireball just to the right of the ogre, so it hits them but just misses Lyra."

"What's the dexterity save I've gotta meet?" Eddie says, tossing the twenty-sided die up and down in his hand. The reflection of the low light danced devilishly in his eyes.

"Thirteen," Kevin says confidently.

Eddie rolls the die towards Kevin, and it lands on thirteen exactly. Kevin sighs and picks up a bunch of dice in his hand. The clattering whilst he shakes them makes Lyra's eyes go wide. How much damage can a fireball do exactly?

Kevin lets the dice fly into the map, eight, six-sided die to be exact.

Kevin's eyes scan over the dice as they come to a stop "Twenty-nine, but that's halved because you made the save, so Fourteen points of damage" Kevin looks hopefully up at Eddie.

Eddie tilts his head, looking at the miniature figures on the map, "Well, fourteen is not gonna take this lumbering oaf down" The table lets out a collective groan. Kevin drops back into his seat with a huff, "but" Eddie raises a finger in the air, "Because of how utterly inflexible this ogre is, they actually get minus one on their dexterity saves, so, he takes the whole Twenty-nine which will indeed put this guy on his ass, and you've saved your cleric. Well done!" Eddie beams at Kevin as the table erupts with cheers.

"And as I'm feeling quite benevolent today, that's where we'll end it for this week", Eddie says, finally closing his book.

Eddie is met with praise around the table and thanks for running a great game. Lyra carefully puts all the dice in the drawstring bag and the character sheet and hands them over to Eddie.

"That was a lot more fun than I expected. Thank you." Lyra smiles hugely at him.

"You don't want to play again?" Eddie looks at the sheet and bag in her hands.

"Do you think I did well enough to be able to play again? I had to ask for a lot of help," Lyra asks.

"You know, I did notice you asking for a lot of help, but you've never played before, so that was to be expected" Eddie looks up at her from under his hair with a big smile, "but I also noticed you weren't entirely listening to what I was saying and might have been spending a little too much time staring at me, and not at your character sheet."

Lyra feels herself flush with embarrassment. He wasn't wrong, but it made her cringe a little that she had been so obvious.

"Sorry?" She smiles and shrugs at him, trying to hide her bashfulness behind some humour.

Eddie runs his hand along the table as he paces towards her. Looking at the floor until he gets within a step of her. "I guess I can forgive you this once, on account of it being your first game. Nothing to do with how absolutely adorable you are or anything," he smirks.

"In regards to playing again..." He takes her by the shoulders and turns her around to face the rest of the table, who are happily in the depths of their own conversations whilst packing up, "You'll need to take it up with the rest of them." Eddie leans forward to murmur in her ear, "Personally, I'd wait until after they've seen the potential party quarters if you're worried about them saying yes."

Whilst he's so close, Lyra quickly wraps her arm around him and pulls him closer to her side, "And what if I would sacrifice a seat at the table to get you back to mine, on your own, sooner?"

Eddie blushes a little and lets out a low, quiet chuckle as he wraps his arms around her, "And there I was thinking you'd enjoyed yourself tonight and might want to join us again."

"Oh, I did enjoy myself for sure, and I would love to return, but I kinda think I'd enjoy you a little bit more", Lyra teases, gently tapping him on the nose.

"You are not making my attempts to keep to my plan very easy, you know that?" He says, squeezing her sides in his arms, "I mean, you did say you were gonna follow my plan to the letter, right? Unless, of course, you were just telling me things I wanted to hear, so you could trap me in your wicked web of debauchery" he says overly dramatically finishing with a laugh, before he tucks his lips back in his mouth, and looks a little worried.

Eddie had made a joke touching on her current biggest insecurity without thinking, but for once, Lyra didn't feel bad. Almost like it was safe because it was Eddie that said it. Instead, a new concern creeps over her. Did she trust him already? That was pretty scary. Maybe scarier than anything that had happened so far.

Lyra smiles at him and pinches his face, "Cheeky little thing, aren't you?" Eddie breathes a sigh of relief and pushes his face into her hand. She pats him gently.

"I guess I did say that, didn't I? Fine!" Lyra says in pretend defeat, and Eddie grips her waist and wiggles her from side to side rapidly, gritting his teeth with excitement.

Eddie brushes down his t-shirt and clears his throat, "Ok, ok, calming down now." He turns to the others, "Anyone coming to Lyra's can follow us. Otherwise, thanks for playing, and I'll see you next week" Eddie smiles, bowing to the others and returns to packing away.

Lyra helps out where she can, and soon they are on their way to the van. Lyra hopes to any pantheon of God that may be listening that Eddie likes the surprise.

Eddie is talking about the few movies he has in his bag that they might watch tonight and some music he's packed in case they can't play LPs by the pool.

As they emerge onto the parking lot, Lyra can see the rest of Hellfire crowded around Eddie's van.

"Hey, I don't mind giving some of you a ride there. Gareth's got more than enough room in his station wagon too, you know," he says, bundling towards them, but under the lamp light, the van's new paintwork comes into view, and Lyra chews her thumb nervously.

"What the-," Eddie says slowly in shock, walking up to the van, then glances back at Lyra. He puts down his bags slowly, his mouth partially open in a very slight slack jaw kind of way. His eyes widen, and he starts walking around it.

Lyra wants to hang back and wait for his verdict, but the anticipation is eating her alive. She moves forward to stand behind the others, as Eddie is still circling the van reaching out to the paintwork.

The suspense builds, but he's not saying anything. Well, nothing she can hear anyway. Everyone else seems to be frozen, waiting for him to respond too.

"I can have it changed", she blurts out, "I just got a bit heavy-handed with the paint thinner in spots, and the guy said he could do a basic spray job, and I remembered this...um...background and the guy said a basic version of it was achievable so...but yeah he could probably get it back to near original colours or something else if he had more time" Lyra plays with her cuffs nervously.

"You got someone to come out here and respray my van to look like the background of the ride the lightning album because you rubbed off too much paint, removing graffiti...am I understanding correctly?" Eddie says, still looking over the van.

"Yeah, well, it was mostly blue, I thought...." Lyra starts to explain, "and cars can be blue. This one just has lightning bolts on it."

Lyra is so nervous right now. She thinks of how impulsive this was. She didn't know if the van had sentimental value or if her request might have painted over something special.

The intense worry must show on Lyra's face because the next thing she feels is an arm around her shoulders. She turns to see Clara smiling so hard that her eyes can barely open, and she gives Lyra's shoulder a supportive squeeze.

Eddie eventually stops, still looking up at the van, his back to Lyra, "Well, ok, we have to have a discussion about grand gestures, but" he turns entirely to face her, "I love it. It's so fucking metal, babe."

Lyra breathes a sigh of relief as she's embraced by Eddie, Clara, the rest of Corroded Coffin, and then Archie and Kevin. All in one massive group hug. In the centre, Lyra looks into Eddie's eyes, her eyes clouding with tears.

When she got to this school, she knew it would be tough. She tried her best not to stick out but failed. On that first week here, she would never have imagined dating anyone from here, least of all Eddie, but teenage minds can dream and crush hard, and maybe it would have been possible to be with someone eventually.

But friends? Friends that accepted her. Friends that were just as different in their own ways as her. Friends that embraced her in a parking lot because she'd made their saviour happy? Never in a million years.

Eddie smiles, pulls her tight to him, and shouts at the others in pretend annoyance, "Alright! Alright! You fucking chancers, she's mine. So back away, go on...get!" Eddie loosens his grip as they start dispersing and lifts her chin up to face him, "You ok?" Lyra nods, still tucking her lips back in her mouth, frightened that letting them go might cause a flood of tears to stream from her eyes.

"Come on," Eddie says, opening the van door, and helping her into her seat before hopping in himself.

Eddie puts the keys in the ignition but pauses before he starts it and turns to Lyra for a second, "Look, I know I made a big deal about your house and was excited about us all hanging out there, but I feel like" he sighs and drums gently on the steering wheel, "I dunno. I don't want you to feel like it's a factor or something to play up to. I just thought it would be fun. I would've invited everyone to the trailer, and I have done, but you know it's pretty cramped." Lyra feels Eddie's hand wrap around hers, "I guess what I'm trying to say is, you don't need to make all these grand gestures. I would have loved it just the same if you'd painted a little smiley face over the rough patches, you know? I don't need to be bought Lyra. Before the house, before the driver, maybe even before the outfit, I was already completely sold. Understand?" Eddie says kindly.

Lyra sighs, "I understand. I guess I just wanted you to have the best of things because you deserve them. You're so good to everyone else, Eddie. Sometimes I think you don't see that. You deserve the world, truly, and if I could, I'd give it to you." Lyra says, finally looking back at him with a small grateful smile.

Eddie's smile widens, and his dimples puncture his cheeks. He tilts his head thoughtfully and inhales deeply, "You know what, you're absolutely right. I do. I'm great. Just the best." He teases and fires up the van, "But let's just keep it to a minimum, hmmm, don't want to make the entire town jealous, you know? Only one of me to go around," Eddie chuckles, and Lyra nudges him playfully.

"Alright, I'll stop being over the top," Lyra says, squeezing his hand, "Can't speak for Phil and Chef, though. They haven't had guests in some time."

"What about your old friends?" Eddie asks, a little puzzled.

Lyra shifts uncomfortably in her seat, "Well, as it turns out, and when I look back on things, I don't think they were actually my friends. It was more like, um, parents networking through their kids, if that makes sense. Also, compared to their houses, mine was the least party friendly, let's say."

Eddie screws up his face, "What do you mean?" He asks, throwing a confused glance at Lyra.

"Well, not every home has a Phil, who will turn a blind eye to the more minor teenage activities, but other things are party-ending offences. For example, weed and beer, maybe some or alcohol is allowed up to a limit, but the, erm, harder stuff, excess or people getting overly friendly is not. That's why they tended to be at some of the other's nearer town."

"Wait a minute! Were you at those parties??!! Shit, I used to do the drops at some of those. They looked wild!" Eddie laughs.

"They were wild, but by at those parties, I mean, after the first few, I just turned up, and I did my social duty," Lyra says. "You know, show your face, bring a gift, mingle, small talk, if it was early enough, maybe grab a drink, but out of there before it started to get too scandalous. The first few times, everything was new and had novelty, and it's something for people to talk about next week, and you know it was fun in parts. But, um yeah, it's got a bit samey real quick, well, for me anyway. You see a trashed bunch of rich kids once. You've seen it all." Lyra shakes her head, "Also, on the topic of seeing it all, that's the other issue with those kinds of parties. There are things that you can't unsee." She laughs, thinking back at those outrageous parties and how the first few times, it was almost like it was a checklist to try every substance going around at that particular event, but she had always shied away from any kind of intimacy with people. Not that it was much of an issue, to be honest, no one ever hit on her anyway.

She weaves her fingers between Eddie's, "Do you mean to tell me that you could have been at the same party as me? That we could have met much sooner? Before Tabatha and Curt? " Lyra asks coyly.

"Well, no, I was never allowed into the parties. I mean, I did my fair share of spying, I won't lie," Eddie laughs, "but yeah, maybe, just on the other side of the door from you, all that time ago. Weird how the universe works, huh?" Eddie smiles over at Lyra gently and then looks back onto the road.

The van continues to drive through the night, both content to just listen to the music, Eddie sings or hums along, and they keep a hold of one another's hand.

Lyra takes the opportunity to digest what happened today and her worry that it might all happen again or something worse.

"So, um, I'm a little worried about something, I can talk to you about it tomorrow if you prefer, but I thought maybe we could get it out of the way now?" She asks a little nervously.

"We've still got a way to go, might as well do it now. So talk away, honey," Eddie says happily.

Lyra smiles to herself. Despite the topic she's about to bring up, she's been acquiring different pet names from Eddie today and wondered if he was testing them out or if he just wanted to use all of them.

"I know this is day one, but I'm worried after what they did to your van today. I'm worried they won't stop, you know?" Lyra says uncomfortably.

Eddie sighs, "The thing is, they trashed this van, and now it's got its well overdue service and paint job. They trashed your locker, and we just dealt with it. Ok, maybe there was a little retaliation on our part, but if we hadn't, I can tell you from experience, it would have been worse. They keep pitching at us, and we keep knocking it out of the park," he says, grinning and shaking his head.

"Won't you get tired of it, though?" Lyra asks carefully.

Eddie snaps his head around at her, "No!" He quickly looks back to the road, "Why? Will you?" Unexpectedly Lyra detects a slight panic in his voice.

"No! Of course not! It's just they ruined my locker. They didn't ruin my stuff, you know?" Lyra exclaims.

"Then why do you think I would?" Eddie sounded a little offended.

Lyra is still so astounded he can't see how she was punching well above her weight with Eddie. He was so wonderful, and the more she learned about him, the closer they became and the more beautiful he got. She opens her mouth to attempt an answer, but Eddie interrupts.

"I don't know what strange negative reason your brain is giving you right now, ok? But just know I'm not gonna quit because some assholes are being their usual dick selves, alright?" Eddie adjusts his hand on the steering wheel, and the tip of his tongue is pressed against his top lip for a second. Lyra has come to interpret this face as concentration or decision-making. In this case, it must be the latter.

"I avoid getting myself in deep shit, like, you know, facing jail time, getting my head kicked in, or anything too aggressive. I'm not a complete coward. I just know the odds are stacked against me when it's my word versus theirs. So yeah, I might avoid, I might obnoxiously flirt my way out of situations, I might run from those heavy conflicts, man. But not from you, ok?" He says earnestly." So that negative voice in your head can just shut the fuck up because it's Eddie's day!!" He adds with a smile.

"So...um...did that help?" He asks cautiously.

Lyra can't help but squeeze his hand, she'd kiss him if she could, but she had promised to keep to his plan, just for today at least, "That helped a lot, thank you...um...darling", she tries but starts laughing, "I think you're better at these than me."

"Well, at least you tried, angel, at least you tried", he teases.

Lyra playfully huffs at another of his effortless usage of a per name as they hit the tree-lined road to Lyra's house.

As they approach the garage doors, Lyra makes out a little banner over one of them saying, "Welcome, Hellfire Club," and her heart melts.

As they get out of the van, Eddie's eyes scan over the house again as he walks around the back of the van to help Lyra down from her seat. He holds her in his arms a little longer than necessary for the task but not nearly long enough for her liking. Their eyes gaze fondly into one another until the Scottish voice booms out of the intercom sending Gareth, and due to proximity also Jeff and Paul, to the ground with fright.

Eddie looks over at the scene and chuckles intensely, shaking his head, "Is that what I looked like?" He asks.

"Kind of, just you know, less falling over, more deer in headlights, clutching your imaginary pearls", Lyra giggles.

"Oh, you can tell she's on home turf now," Eddie says, sending her a sideways glance before retaking her hand and racing to beat the others to the front door.

"Ok, Hellfire," He says, raising his hands to get the group's attention as Lyra unlocks the door, "Listen up, do not touch anything breakable, take your shoes off, be respectful, and we might get invited back again."

"And most importantly," Lyra says, turning around to face them, ducking under Eddie's arm and putting her arms around his waist, "Have fun. Please. The old place needs it." She adds, half lifting and half dragging Eddie out of the way to let the rest in first.

Lyra turns his chin to their friends, looking up and turning around in the entryway, "That's what you looked like. Except, you know, much cuter", she says, standing up next to him.

Eddie side glances at her and gives away one of his more bashful little smiles before grabbing her hand and pulling her inside.

Lyra introduces everyone to Phil, Phil looks concerned at her clothes, and Lyra shrugs with a smile.

"We'll talk about this later," he says with a confused smile.

Phil then leads the tour of the downstairs, dropping them off at the projector room.

Lyra would love to call it a theatre. It had a big screen and a projector, but ultimately this room was only really ever used by Lyra and Phil, so it used to have two no longer stylish armchairs in it, but Phil appears to have spruced the place up somewhat.

The armchairs remain, but several of the couches have also made their way in here, as had a mini fridge, mini freezer, a popcorn cart and a giant hamper of candy.

"Load yourselves up, and let me know when to hit play," Phil says, smiling at them all.

There is the sound of metal on metal and a soft thud as Eddie runs around everyone to leap over the back of the two-seater sofa behind all the other seats and lounges across it, grinning and waving everyone else forward to the other seats.

As Lyra approaches him, he sits up and moves over, rustling in his bag for the movies, "I'll be right back", he says, rushing over to Phil.

Within a few minutes, he's back, arms laden with popcorn, candy and drinks, which he hands to Lyra as he flops down next to Lyra. Then, finally, the lights go down, and the movie starts.

The trailers of old movies barely begin when Eddie lets out a yawn and stretches his arms up and then out, draping one around Lyra's shoulders. She just smiles and shakes her head at his funny little ways, "Don't laugh at my moves", he whispers, failing to hold back a laugh himself.

Archie turns around and shushes them both, which makes not laughing even harder.

Lyra decides to use the popcorn to either stop or distract from giggling with Eddie, but Eddie has other ideas. As she reaches for a piece out of the box and lifts it upwards, she feels Eddie's hair brush her arm, and she turns towards him. His mouth is partially open centimetres from her hand, but his eyes are fully locked with hers.

There was something about his eyes in the dark. Sure, they were still beautiful and entrancing in the light, but in the dark, with just a fleck of light reflecting from them, they were almost impossible to look away from. In this low light at this proximity, they stir up something in Lyra, and her heart begins to pound deeply and loudly in its bony prison, she can almost hear her pulse in her ears, and her breathing deepens to catch up. Her breath almost trembles as Eddie opens his mouth wider near her hand, not looking away from her once. Hands shaking, she gently places it in his mouth. Eddie blinks slowly and sits back up in his seat, and all Lyra can do is follow his eyes with hers until her whole self turns towards him.

Eddie's eyes softly look around her face before he easily takes the popcorn box from her hands because she's barely holding onto it and puts it on the floor.

Eddie tucks her hair behind her ear and leans in to whisper, "I'm thinking of heading out for a smoke, do you, maybe, wanna come with me?"

Lyra can only nod slowly in a daze, entirely under his spell. With that, they quietly sneak out of the room to head outside.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Eddie had wanted to wait. He had wanted to wait until everyone had gone home, and it was just the two of them, but he couldn't wait any longer, not sitting so close in the dark. Not with the way the low light danced on her soft skin. Not with how good she felt. Not with the sweet smell of her perfume and shampoo. It's made him lose all composure. He had to be alone with her right now.

Lyra goes to lead him outside by the pool. Eddie shakes his head and nods towards the stairs, "The balcony might be good", he says sweetly, hoping she understood. He didn't want anyone walking in on them. No one could ruin this.

Lyra's eyes looked so innocent. She almost looked a little nervous. Eddie hoped it was the same kind of anticipation nerves he was feeling and not that she was scared or worried.

Their fingers interlocked with one another, Lyra guides him upstairs through a room he hasn't seen before and onto the balcony.

Eddie looks up at the sky as he takes out the cigarette packet from his pocket and pulls out a cigarette he has no intention of smoking. He gently taps it against the box, grateful that the sky was behaving precisely as he had hoped. Not a cloud to hide any of the celestial bodies, the moonlight bathing the two of them in its glow, and the stars sparkling their hardest just for them.

He slowly taps the end of the cigarette against the packet and looks back down at Lyra, whose hands are in her paint-smeared jean pockets, as she looks around at the floor and surrounding seating nervously.

Eddie rolls his shoulders back and speaks, "Nice night, isn't it?"

"Huh?" Lyra finally looks up at him and then at the sky. "I mean, yeah, it's nice. Definitely nice." She laughs awkwardly, and it is completely adorable.

Eddie can't remember the last time he felt this nervous. Outwardly he was pulling on every speck of confidence, false or real, he could find within himself, but inside he was verging on terrified. He tried to remind himself it was just a kiss, and he'd done that hundreds, maybe thousands of times.

It wasn't that Lyra was more attractive than them or that he didn't care for all the others that he'd kissed before. It's just that this had foundations. Shaky small foundations, but things they'd agreed together, and it felt equal. It didn't feel like another one of Eddie's falling harder situations, and it didn't feel like some lustful way to pass the time.

The way she looked at him sometimes made him feel incredible. Like he was the most wonderful thing in the universe like she couldn't believe he was real, and whilst he found all of that impossible to believe about himself, he couldn't deny how entirely loved it made him feel.

He taps the cigarette on the packet three more times, gazing at her. He wished his eyes could take a photograph. Instead, the best he could do was to stare at her for a while in the darkness. Hoping his brain would hold this memory for as long as he needed it.

He puts the cigarette behind his ear, completely disappearing into his hair and puts the packet back in his pocket. His hands now free, he steps closer to Lyra and takes her hand.

"Lyra?" He says softly, his voice rasping out her name into the darkness. She looks up at him again, her pupils dilated, making them look like perfect circles of obsidian glinting in the night. They move slightly from left to right, searching his own eyes for something.

Eddie cups her face with his free hand, letting his thumb caress her cheek, his fingers touching her jaw and neck lightly.

"May I kiss you?" He asks and hears a breath tremble from her mouth as her eyes dart between his and his mouth.

"Yes," she answers in a whisper. He steps forward and moves his hand from her face to her lower back under her sweatshirt. He can feel the heat radiating from her body against his. Her eyes flash wide for a millisecond, and her chest heaves against his.

Eddie brings Lyra's hand up to his mouth, maintaining soft intermittent eye contact. Like a regular check-in, he kisses the back of her hand. He sees her shoulders relax.

He prises open her fingers and plants a kiss on the palm of her hand before moving it to the centre of his chest. He wanted her to know he might look calm, but he was nervous too, and everything was just how it should be. He feels her fingers push against the fabric of his t-shirt and keeps pulling it closer until her palm is entirely against his body.

With his newly free hand, he tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, runs his hand over her hair and finally plants a soft kiss on her forehead, then tipping her head back slightly, one on the tip of her nose, that makes the corners of her mouth turn upwards in amusement, he smiles and hums in happy agreement.

He turns her head from one side, then the other planting a small peck on each cheek before bringing her back to the centre. He pauses, his eyes taking in as many details as possible. Her eyes were dewy, sparkled in the low light, her brows ever so slightly pushed together, and her lips minimally pouted in anticipation. Eddie tilts his head and presses his lips to hers gently, carefully, and lovingly.

Fourth of July-worthy fireworks go off in Eddie's mind, and he'd always thought going weak at the knees from a kiss was just something people said until this moment.

He keeps his lips pressed to hers for a while. He feels like he could stay like this forever. Then, finally, he admits defeat and moves back a millimetre or two so that their lips part, but light can barely get between them.

He looks over her face, her eyes are still closed, and she lets out a breath and smiles.

"Was that ok?" Eddie asks tenderly, his lips brushing against Lyra's again as he speaks the words, and she opens her eyes slowly.

A smile erupts across her face suddenly, "Yeah. Very good. Can I try?"

Eddie feels his smile copy hers, "Yeah. You can try", he says confidently, trying to tease her a little, but swallows nervously. He hadn't thought this far ahead.

Her one hand remains at his chest, and the other runs up his arm and lands gently on the side of his neck, her thumb runs over his Adam's apple, and he swallows again, making it bob.

"Don't be nervous, baby", she says soothingly, "It's just me". Eddie does not know how he remains standing when she says that. He's just glad they are so close, and it's almost like they are supporting one another anyway.

Lyra's hand disappears into his hair and pulls his face to hers, their lips meet again, but this time she takes his lower lip in between her own, tugging on it a little, finishing with a simple peck on the lips, her fingers still pressed against his chest and gently moving against his scalp. Eddie's brain feels like complete mush. He knows he should say something, but he has no idea what.

As they part a little, the words finally come, though he can't seem to stop looking at her mouth. "You know, I could just tell you the start of the movie. I've seen it so often I've got it committed to memory".

That beautiful smile of her's reappears, "No need. I've seen it before too".

It takes a few seconds for Eddie to thoroughly digest what she's said, but once it computes, his hands are around her face, moving into her hair, pulling her back to him into a passionate kiss, falling backwards over a chair, but landing thankfully on a cushioned lounger.

Eddie's brain and body feel fully alive for the first time. Every sensation is millionfold like electricity coursing through his form.

His only thought.

Let this be my turn. Let this be my once.

[vyxythepixie]

tagged by @rosewrites (thank you :D) and yes my British arse did go through and add u's into relevant words 😂

favourite colour: Purples, turquoises, emerald greens, and black (we're calling it a colour).

favourite flavour: Oof, idk if I can choose tbh. I love cinnamon flavour if it's in the perfect moderation. Black cherry flavoured stuff is especially a favourite. I'll go with those two as the all time best for me, but I like berry flavours, passionfruit, and chocolate, too. I'm a huge sweet tooth.

favourite music: I'm the same with being mostly about vibes rather than genre. Some genres I do generally enjoy though are dance pop, electronica, apocalyptic rock, electro swing, romantic classical, and especially soundtracks.

favourite movie: I have a lot of faves but my usual go-to for my one of all time is Labyrinth.

favourite series: So many but my absolute fave of all time is Farscape.

last song: If we don't count the Ard Skellige music going round and round in my head from Witcher 3, my Spotify last played Byssan Lull by Myrkr

last movie: Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery. It was actually as great as the awards suggested!

currently reading: Actively reading Part Two of The Book Of Dust by Phillip Pullman, but also midway through a re-read of the Discworld series (just finished Lords And Ladies). I have such a reading pile at the moment and only read for like half an hour, 4 days a week, so this is why it's taking me 5 years to read anyone else's fanfiction if it's more than 1-3k words long 😭

currently watching: You. No, I mean the Netflix series, I'm not staring at you like a stalker. The series is about a stalker though. I'm also arguably re-watching Archer but I save that for whenever Mojito visits me. I'm also, also watching the Amazing Spider-Man when I squeeze it in and want something light.

currently working on: Right now I'm mid catching up on some drafts on my role-play blog, but with regards to this blog I'm on a holiday this week. In technicality I'm alternating between a novel in progress and writing fanfic. I'm brain-working on Superior, since it looks like that's the one people have voted for me to work on writing a chapter for next.

tagging: @lavenderism and @aurorawest and anyone else if they'd like to do it!

[thisliminalspacedaydreams]

hello hello hello 12, 21, 55 if you havent already answered them !!

much love

Bonjour bonjour, I haven't :D

12 - Do you outline your fics?  If yes, how detailed are your outlines?  How far do you stray from them?

Yes and no.

For small fics (Think The Brew, Orpheus, RIP, etc, and any one-shot) I don't. I sit down and sort of pull out it in a few days, sometimes a few hours. It's very uncomplicated.

For longer fics (Echoes and Heartless), I do. I outline the first 50%. I usually have a theme I want to run with (Echoes: loneliness / Heartless: heartbreak and healing) and then I sit down and plot about half of what I want. I never know how it's going to end or when or how long or any of that. I know that at the 50% mark of a story a lot of characters will have done things I didn't expect them to, and I'll have to roll with the punches and adapt. It makes it very hard. I stray... far. Very far. Completely off topic sometimes.

The way I see it, I write them into existence and give them a trajectory, but where they go with it is always a surprise.

21 - Do you prefer writing chaptered fics or one-shots?

A few months ago I would have said "short fics". If you look at my profile, it's mostly short between 5 and 20K.

Writing with @greenvlvetcouch has changed my perspective. I would (and will) write longer fics, as long as I'm collaborating. I don't have the patience to do so on my own.

I'm a short fic girly. I have lots of ideas and I like to write them all. I'm always impressed by people like @motswolo who wrote ONE MILLION words about the same people. That couldn't be me. It's not in my bones. (But I DO love reading longer fics. I just don't take the time because gun to the head, I'll pick writing over reading every single time, so I tend to stray towards shorter ones).

55 - Have you noticed any patterns in your fics?  Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

I mentioned in a previous ask that I do slam poetry. A lot of what I write in my performances comes back out in fics in some form, so I've always got some kind of poetic bullshit happening, unless I can't be asked and just want to write a short, dumb little story.

One thing that happens a lot is the whole it's theretherethere, the same word repeated three times and linked together. I don't know why. I started this early on and now it just exists within my writing.

Also the

Going

Down

The

Page and finishing there. It pleases my brain. It's fanfiction, it's not that deep, so I'm allowed :D

I hope you have a gooooddd day, thank you for stopping by :D

[artemismoorea03]

10 Facts About Ari

Wanted todo something like this for a while now, so might as well do it now :3

1) I live in the United States, specifically the North-West part of it though I have been looking to move to Canada for a while now.

2) I’m married! I got married in 2019 to an absolutely amazing person who I’ve been dating since 2013! He is fantastic and easily my best friend. I wouldn’t be half of the person I am today without him.

3) I’m legally deaf, nearly legally blind in my left eye, and use a cane to walk around! These as well as a few other health issues have made having a physical job difficult so I spend 18+ hours a day writing and coming up with ideas for Fanfiction as well as my original story. I’m also Dyslexic so that’s fun :3 (not really)

4) I have an allergy to Ginger and Cinnamon, weird right? Just developed it randomly at the end of 2020. Which sucks because Cinnamon is my absolute favorite spice.

5) My favorite movie of all time is Twister from 1996 and I watch it more than is probably healthy considering that the very idea of a tornado keeps me up at night x’D

6) I have 4 pets (though 6 live here with me). Baby Jade is a 6 going on 7 year old Ragdoll/Siamese, Lady Maria (aka Carpet Muncher/Circus Freak) is a 3 going on 4 year old Calico, Indiana Jones (Indi for short) is a 1 year old Australian Shepherd, and Salem is a 5 month old black cat. The other two dogs belong to my sister and are both Poodle mixes; A Golden-Doodle and a Aussie-Doodle name Win and Scout. The only male animal in our house is Salem, the rest are ladies.

7) My favorite color is Teal or Black :D (I’m always wearing black though)

8) My biggest fear is easily the Dentist but Heights is also up there.

9) The thing that inspired me to start writing was the book series Maximum Ride. I have read the first one over 100 times (not even kidding, I started reading it in 3rd grade and I still read it to this day, I’m now 26).

10) I have been writing since 3rd grade and never really stopped. It even got to the point where when my teacher realized that I was hopeless at Math he just told me to “Work on what you’re good at and like to do, because trying to force yourself to do something you hate and don’t understand will just make you miserable in life.”

Anyways, this was fun and just something that I just wanted to do. But I’m always willing to answer any questions anybody has. I don’t bite, I promise. :3

[kpopisthereasonihavenolife]

Fury of Their Scales

m.yoongi / reader

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

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

w.count: 17.7k

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

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

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

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

-x-x-x-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was a dragon. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-x-x-x-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-x-x-x-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You ticked your head a bit, nodding to yourself.  

“Okay, that settles that.” 

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

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

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

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

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

You would be wrong. 

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

-x-x-x- 

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

You had some decency. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Suga almost purred- if dragon’s could ever.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes light up in excitement at the discovery.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Suga?” You asked with a pitched voice.  

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

-x-x-x-

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

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

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

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

“Hmm?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good-”

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

“Yoongi, it’s alright.” 

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

You couldn't argue with that. 

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

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

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

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

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

“It does to me.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Turning back to your front, your mouth dropped open.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

He did not.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-x-x-x-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This wasn’t fair.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-x-x-x-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your brows drew close together in confusion.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, then-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What. 

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

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

“But that’s-”

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

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

“Oh my Gods, you’re serious.” 

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

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

-x-x-x-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Simply, because.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“It will be alright,” he soothed.  

“I know,” you chocked.

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

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

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

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

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

-x-x-x-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I won’t!” He promised.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I wouldn’t go that far.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s not fair,” the child pouted. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

-END-