#ducky writing

[duck-at-midnight]

Little Duck Origins

Summary: With Sam in therapy, Kirby evaluates the couples stance in life with Tara

Content Warning: a bit fluffy, little Tara, non-verbal Tara, slight Scooby-Doo diss

Sam woke to someone crawling into her bed. She remained still as the small figure settled next to her, keeping her breaths even. There was hope that Tara would notice she was still asleep and sleep a little longer with her. With a few moments of silence, Sam relaxed fully thinking her sister had fallen asleep. 

To her disappointment, she felt Tara nudge her and let out a low whine. 

“Good morning to you too.” Sam said, opening her eyes to meet her sister’s. 

Her sister had climbed into her bed with her pink elephant, Cuddles, tucked under her chin and thumb in her mouth. She was staring with her wide brown eyes that were begging her to get up.

”Hungry?” The girl nodded. “Pancakes?” Another nod. “Chocolate chip?” Another nod with a smile forming around her thumb. “Alright, let’s get up.” Sam said as she unwrapped herself from her blanket.

Tara walked to the living room area as Sam got dressed and brushed her teeth. She sat on the couch and turned on the TV. Her eyes never leaving Scooby-Doo as Sam walked in. 

“Here, let’s get that thumb out of your mouth.” Sam pulled her thumb out to replace it with a pacifier. There was a small whine, but with a small pat on her head, Tara was back to Scooby-Doo. 

Cooking while listening into the TV, Sam made quick work of the pancakes for her and Tara. She topped Tara’s off with extra chocolate chips and a glass of orange juice.

”Come eat, Tara.” Sam called out as she got her plate together. She poured her coffee and set her plate and cup on the table. “Tara, now.”

With the TV still playing, Tara walked over to the table and sat across from Sam. She took out her pacifier as she took a big bite from her pancake. 

“Hope you like it.” Sam said moving the pacifier away from the edge of the table. 

The girl hummed with approval and a nod. 

“Nonverbal day?” She was met with a silent look. “It’s ok. Just wanted to give a heads up to Danny and Kirby.”

She gave a confused look.

”I have therapy today. They’re going to come and watch you unless you want to sit there in a boring therapy office.” They both had weekly therapy but had it on different days. 

She shook her head. 

“Yeah, I thought so. You’d rather be here having fun with Danny and Kirby.”

After breakfast and followed by a small lunch at noon, Tara took off to play with a few of her toys in front of the TV, pacifier secured in her mouth. Cuddles never leaving her sight as she moved around on the floor. Sam was in her room drying her hair from her shower. 

The door opened making Tara look up from her toys feeling slight fear wash over her. 

“Hey, kiddo.” Kirby said as she opened the door. Danny followed closely behind. “Having fun?”

Tara smiled widely letting the pacifier fall from her lips as she ran up to Danny who picked her up. 

“There’s my favorite girl.” He said, swinging her around making her giggle. 

“Is that right?” Kirby said with a teasing tone.

”What?” He said, stopping his swinging. Both sets of eyes fell on Kirby. “You and Sam are my favorite women. But Tara, Tara is my favorite girl. Who else is going to watch Scooby-Doo with me?”

”You say that like Sam and I don’t watch it too.” 

“Hey, thanks for watching her again.” Sam said, greeting them both with a kiss. She laughed at her sister leaning her cheek out for her own kiss before giving her one too. “She’s not really talkative today.”

”That’s ok, we’ll still fun.” Kirby said, poking at the girl’s stomach making her giggle more. 

“I know you will.” Sam said confident in her significant others. “But please call me if you need anything or if something happens.”

”We’ll be fine. You have a good session and we’ll have dinner after.” Kirby reassured. She opened the door for Sam. 

Sam gave all three of them a kiss again before walking out. She took notice of something missing from her sister’s mouth. “Make sure you wash her pacifier before giving it back to her.” 

“We will, we got her.” Danny said, putting Tara down. 

“Ok, love you all, bye!” Sam said before closing the door and heading to her appointment. 

The two turned and saw Tara immediately putting her pacifier back in her mouth and going for Cuddles. 

“I should have waited to put her back down.”

Kirby shrugged. “It’s just a little dirty. Nothing that will hurt her.”

Danny walked over to Tara. “Sorry, kiddo, I’m going to need this.” He pulled it out of her mouth that was followed by a cry. “I just have to wash it.” 

She followed him closely behind and observed him washing it in the sink. Her thumb snuck its way into her mouth as she leaned towards Danny. 

He handed it back to her and was met by her wide eyes looking up at him. “You know Sam doesn’t like it when you use your thumb.” Her thumb remained in place. “Come on, Tara.” He pleaded.

Kirby walked up and tickled her sides making her giggle before pulling her thumb out. She quickly grabbed the pacifier and put it in Tara’s mouth before the girl could notice. She smiled before walking over to the couch making sure not to move Cuddles as she leaned back. 

“How do you do that?” Danny asked, walking over to the couch. He sat down and let Tara climb into his lap. She sunk into him with her eyes focusing on the TV playing Scooby-Doo. 

“You’re too gentle. I just prefer to get it over with.” 

He shook his head, “I’m not too gentle.”

“You’d let Tara walk all over you.” Kirby laughed, making Tara look over at her with curious eyes. She picked up Cuddles gesturing with the stuffed toy. “Guess I’ll cuddle with my good friend Cuddles.”

The girl whined before climbing over to Kirby and laying against her. She tucked Cuddles underneath her chin and refocused on Scooby-Doo with heavy eyes.

“That was dirty.” 

“What?” Stretching out the rest of the couch to rest her feet in her boyfriend’s lap.

“You bribed her.”

“I wanted time with our girl too.” She patted the girl’s back and kissed the top of her head.

Danny leaned forward to look at her face. “She’s asleep.” 

The blonde smirked. “Good, naptime won’t be a fight.” She laughed at Danny. “What? Are you jealous?”

“She went out like a light.”

“She probably woke up early.” Kirby pointed out. She knew when Tara woke up little she tended to wake up early. “She'll follow you around like a little duck when she wakes up.” 

Danny scoffed. “She does not follow me like a duck.”

“Oh yes, she does.” Kirby teased. “She loves you. You’re the fun one, letting her get away with things and swinging her around. Anytime you’re here, she sticks close to you.” 

“If I’m the fun one then what are you?”

Kirby’s eyes lit up. “The cool one, obviously.” 

“I can be the fun and cool one.” Danny said defensively. 

“Yes, that’s our job as the boyfriend and girlfriend of the mother duck.” Kirby pointed out. “To keep Sam sane and to remember to let loose.” 

“I think we do our jobs well.” He leaned back.

“Yes, we do.” A comfortable silence fell over the two as they focused on the cartoon. “Can we watch something else though? I’ve had enough Scooby-Doo. It’s all she watches.” 

He laughed. “And you call yourself the cool one.”

[bucketsofmonsters]

On The Altar

cw: kidnapping, size difference, attempted human sacrifice, indoctrination, culty vibes, blood, hunting animals for food, self-loathing, allusions to drowning, heights, non-human genitalia, voyeurism, oral sex, threesome, unprotected sex, everyone in this is having a rough time

male dragon x male knight x fem reader

word count: 12k

Your breath caught as you stared at yourself in the mirror and a sort of disappointment washed over you. The white ceremonial dress draped across your form, fitted perfectly to you. 

You were supposed to look better than you ever had. Your heart sank a little when realized you didn’t think you did. 

Your birthday a few months ago. You thought you looked better then. 

You should have toned it down, not given yourself such a high bar to clear. It was your own fault, really. 

It had just been your last one. You'd wanted to make it count

Your head felt heavy with the ceremonial braids in your hair and the golden crown atop your head. It matched the rest of your accessories. Golden bracelets and necklaces and cuffs that circled your biceps. 

You wondered if it was real gold. Of course, everyone said it was but it seemed like a difficult thing to manage, a whole set of new golden adornments made every year just for it to be lost. A Sisyphean task. 

You didn’t have to worry about that. Your responsibility was far from that of the clothing and jewelry makers. You didn’t have to do any work at all, a crowd of women ensuring you didn’t so much as lift a finger on your day, bathing you and dressing you in unfamiliar clothes. 

You’d spent the whole day preparing. This was the first time you’d had a chance to breathe. 

Excitement and nerves all swelled inside of you, neither able to snuff the other out. 

Time was flying by and you weren’t sure whether you wanted it to slow or speed up. Part of you wanted to cherish these last few moments but it was almost here. It was almost your time. 

They tied you up. Not that they had to. You weren’t going anywhere. It was just tradition. 

You forgot to treasure your last moments of sight before someone behind you pulled a blindfold over your eyes. 

All you were left to do was imagine it. Being pulled from where you stood on the shore, being dragged under the water, the air leaving you as you fulfilled your duty.

And the town saved. 

They’d do it again next year and again the next, just like they had for decades. But this year was yours. You would save them. 

What a privilege it was to die for them. 

You wondered if the ropes ruined the lines of your dress. You supposed you’d never find out. 

Something hooked around your shoulders and you couldn’t help but flinch. You took in a big gulp of air instinctually, knowing what was coming. 

You braced yourself to be dragged forwards and instead slipped backward as you were lifted in the wrong direction. The ground disappeared from under you before you could fall. 

Your legs kicked, searching for anything below you, but you found nothing. The wind rushed up around you and despite your lack of vision, you could feel that you were rising up and up and up. 

You were meant to be dragged down to the depths and yet here you were, being hoisted into the sky. Claws dug into your skin and you were still blind and disoriented. Fear overtook you. 

You reached up and felt at whatever was carrying you, finding scaly skin connected to the strong talons digging into your shoulders. 

And then, as quickly as you’d been scooped up, you were being dropped. Rocks scraped your skin as you tumbled onto a hard stone floor. The bindings had come undone during the fall and you scrambled for your blindfold, squinting when the harsh light reached your eyes. 

As your vision began to adjust, you saw an enormous figure in front of you. At first, all you could see was a silhouette. Massive wings curled into the figure and the dragon that was slowly coming into focus in front of you stared right back at you. 

It was retreating into mounds of shiny things, gold and silver, old pieces of armour and crowns and candelabras piled into the cave you’d been thrown into. 

It stood out amongst the collection, a hulking creature with scales that shone a dark bronze that matched little of his horde. It was probably 20 feet long, its head cocked to the side as it watched you. 

Your instincts screamed at you to run, to get as far away from the creature as possible. 

You took a deep breath and tried to steady yourself. If you tried to run it could just scoop you up again. Besides, the last thing you wanted to do was activate a hunting instinct. Maybe right now, covered in gold jewelry, he saw you as something for his horde. It was certainly preferable to the alternative. 

He didn’t seem to be eating you, which you took as a good sign. Maybe if you removed the gold from yourself, it would lose interest in you and you could sneak out. If you rushed and were lucky, maybe you could even make it back in time. A sacrifice without the ceremonial adornments wasn’t ideal but it would certainly be better than nothing. 

You slowly lifted your hand to the golden cuff on your bicep, praying it wouldn’t think you were trying to take it. You tried to rip it from the white fabric of your dress, wanting to return home with at least some of your dignity, and your clothes, intact. 

Its head tilted further to the side and then a voice sounded, echoing off the walls. “What are you doing? Why would you ruin such a lovely dress?”

You froze at the noise, looking up wide-eyed at the creature. It couldn’t have. That wasn’t possible. Dragons were forces of chaos. Mindless beasts, nothing more. 

You blinked slowly, wondering if maybe you hadn’t woken up this morning quite yet. Or perhaps you’d been pulled underwater too quickly to notice and this was the oxygen deprivation messing with your mind. 

“Hello,” you responded. 

Its jaw opened to reveal layers of teeth in a ghoulish imitation of a smile. “Hello!”

You felt your heart stutter in your chest. “What… why did you take me?” You tried your best to keep your voice steady. The last thing you wanted was to upset the creature. 

“You were out there to be taken, yes?”

Oh. You supposed you were. Perhaps you’d been sending mixed messages to the monsters of the world. 

You wondered if maybe some town made sacrifices just like you to dragons.

“I was,” you said cautiously. “But not for you. For the creatures of the deep. Fishing is our life, it’s how we survive. We need the waters to be safe.”

“Not… what? You’re… but I thought. So you weren’t out there for me?” He sounded heartbroken. 

“It’s fine,” you said, keeping your voice level. “Misunderstandings happen. Just take me back and everything will be fine.”

“No, it doesn’t make sense. You’re covered in gold. You can’t just cover someone in gold and not expect a dragon to come snatch them up. You must have known. You must be for me.”

“Well, I’m not. And I would love to go home now.”

“What do they even want with you?” it asked, avoiding any discussion of bringing you back. “I don’t know much about humans but I know you aren’t water creatures. They couldn’t even take you anywhere, they’d have to come all the way up to visit you every day.”

Now it was your turn to be confused. “What?”

You’d assumed he’d taken you for the same reasons as the creatures you sacrificed maidens to every year. To take and consume, to feel worshiped. But it sounded like this dragon had entirely different ideas as to why a monster would want a sacrifice. 

“I wouldn’t have to just visit you,” he said. “I could be with you all the time. Take good care of you. No water involved. I’d keep you warm and fed and completely dry.”

“I’m not given to be a pet,” you snapped. 

The creature reeled back and began backpedaling instantly. “I didn’t mean you’re like a pet, I just meant…”

“They were going to kill me,” you said. “I’m a sacrifice. They need to kill me. It’s the only way.”

It took him a minute to understand what you could possibly mean by that. You could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to understand. 

You didn’t have time for this. “Just take me back,” you pleaded with him. 

He paused. “They’re going to kill you?”

“It’s none of your concern what they’re going to do.”

He dropped his head low, resting it on his tail with a huff. “Then I’m not taking you anywhere.”

Your heart sank. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“I can’t let them hurt you.”

You let out an exasperated groan, burying your head in your hands. “It has to happen, without it so many more will perish. 

“What if I start terrorizing your village!” the dragon said, with the intonation of someone who’d just had a great idea but none of the content. “Or say I would if I didn’t have you. Then your sacrifice won’t have been for nothing.”

Reasoning with him was starting to seem pointless. “Please don’t.”

“Well, either way, I’m not letting you go back. If I let you go, it would be like I hurt you. No, you can stay here.”

You could not do this, couldn’t argue with this strange creature who was incapable of understanding how vital it was that you returned so your town had its proper sacrifice. 

You stormed over to the corner of the cave, leaning against the cold stone wall with a huff. 

He just stared at you, neverendingly, undeterred by your attitude. 

“It can’t be comfortable over there,” he called out to you.

“Leave me alone!” you shouted back, curling in further on yourself. 

He wanted to approach you, you could tell that much. His hesitation was evident and he took small steps forwards before pulling himself back, repeating the gesture over and over until he seemed to come to a conclusion. 

“Alright. I can go for a while. Don’t hurt yourself.” 

With that, he gave you a final once-over and flew out of the cave. 

He was hard to read. The way a dragon worked was unfamiliar to you. The most you could do was take guesses and try your best. Hopefully, you wouldn’t be around long enough to figure out the intricacies of dragon body language. 

You should run. If you were going to have a chance to escape, this would be it. 

As you edged out of the cave, your dreams of making it down the mountain were crushed. There was, technically, a sort of path down the mountain. It was barely a few feet wide with a sheer cliff at the edge of it. 

You hadn’t eaten since this morning. You were scared and exhausted and there was a slight tremor in your hands you couldn’t quite seem to rid yourself of. There was no way you could safely traverse that path. 

You went back into the cave with a huff, waiting for your captor to return. 

Eventually, he did, blood dripping down his face as he dropped an animal in front of you. It was hard to tell what it was with the way it was mangled. It was clearly a fresh kill. 

You stared blankly at him, edging further away and into the cave wall. 

At your lack of reaction, he nudged the creature towards you. “You should eat,” he said. 

“I can’t eat that.”

You prayed he wouldn’t try and force you. 

“Why don’t you just eat me?” you spat at him. “At least it would be better than this.” 

At least then you wouldn’t have to live with the knowledge that you’d failed, and your village would pay the price. 

He tilted his head once more. “Why would I do that? I’ve wanted to meet a human for a very very long time. I’ve got another friend too, come look.”

He started to wander back into the cave, behind piles of gold and you hesitantly followed him on shaky legs. 

When you reached the back of the dark cave, you found a single, frightened sheep sitting atop a massive patch of grass that seemed to have been uprooted from the ground. 

“I took him from a field. I couldn’t eat him, he had sad eyes.”

“Do I have sad eyes?” you asked. Maybe that was why he insisted on keeping you, refusing to let you go back home. 

He looked at you and as hard as it was to read the facial expressions of a dragon, you knew exactly what he was thinking.

“Is it that bad?” you asked as you looked away.

“Not bad. You just look like you're hurting.”

If you were it was because of him. This was supposed to be the best day of your life, the only day that mattered. And instead, you were here, looking at a poor terrorized sheep who was in the same position you were in. 

“So, what can you eat?” the dragon asked. Before you could give an answer, it said, “Nevermind, I’ve got an idea.”

You didn’t get the chance to ask him what it was. He was off again, moving through the cave until you heard the telltale flapping noise that meant you were alone once more.

You looked down at the sheep again. 

Maybe not entirely alone. 

He returned swiftly with a whole market cart in tow. It had piles of bread in it, although they were a little worse for wear from the flight. You had no doubt that some unsuspecting farmers had found it raining loaves of bread as he made his way back. 

You were too hungry to worry about scolding him for the thievery. You grabbed the first piece you could get your hands on and took the biggest bite you were capable of.

Your dragon watched, seemingly entranced by the sight. 

As you chewed your first bite of freshly baked bread he asked, “I did alright this time?”

You nodded, unable to speak through the mouthful of food. 

As you finished scarfing down your bread, you sat in the grass with your new sheep companion and asked your captor, “Do you have a name?”

The dragon considered this for a moment. “No. No one has ever needed to call me anything.”

“Oh. I thought dragons would have names.”

“They do. Just not me.”

You looked up at him, brow furrowed. “What, just you?”

He hummed in acknowledgment, the vibrations from the noise cascading through the stone under you. “Didn’t bother to give me one. I was the runt so you know how it is. Or maybe you don’t. I don’t really know how people work. With dragons, the littlest one always has to go. That’s the way it is.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I get a little lonely but now you’re here!”

You rolled your eyes, collapsing back into the grass. If you closed your eyes you could pretend you were outside your village lying in a field instead of trapped in a dark cave on a cold mountain. “Yeah, now I’m here.”

The moment couldn’t last. It was too cold, there was no wind. The air smelled different. 

“You know,” you said. “We had stories about dragons. Big terrifying ones that wanted to hurt people. My mother used to tell me stories of Pytho. I was so scared of him when I was little.”

“Oh.” You heard his wings rustle and opened one of your eyes to peek over at him, shuffling uncomfortably in place. 

“I could call you Pytho,” you added. “It’s the only dragon name I know.”

“If you think it fits, I suppose. I thought you said he was big and scary?”

You laughed. “Well, from my perspective, you’re pretty big and scary.”

Instead of being pleased at your words, he reeled back. “Are you scared of me?”

You shrugged. “I was. Not so much anymore. Honestly, I think on any other day, I would’ve liked you”

“But not today?”

You shook your head. “Not today.”

“Well then,” he said as he began to curl up into a ball, “Maybe tomorrow.”

You backed up, leaning against the cold wall, and tried to suppress your tears at the thought that there would be a tomorrow for you at all. 

When you woke up, it was all still real. A dragon snored beside you as a sheep stared at you with the saddest gaze you’d ever seen. 

Maybe, as you looked at it, it thought the same thing about you. 

Pytho stirred from his slumber, immediately turning to check on you.  

When you felt his warm breath directed at you, you realized just how cold you were. Not that you were going to do anything about it. Your only source of warmth was the dragon in front of you and you were going to go nowhere near him. 

You clench your fists, doing your best to stop the shivering. 

He didn’t seem to notice. With the warmth that he radiated, you were sure that the concept of being cold was something that was foreign to him. 

You turned away from the creature. If he wouldn’t take you back, the least you could do was deprive him of your attention.

It wasn’t much but it was all you had. 

The day passed slowly but still, it passed. You spent it wallowing in the corner. 

Pytho left you alone after the first few outbursts. He seemed to understand that you needed your space. You could appreciate him for at least that much. 

As the sun began to set once more, you began to realize just how much warmth and light the day had brought to this miserable cave. 

You curled in on yourself, not far from how Pytho slept. 

You watched him begin to settle in for the night and saw a moment of hope where he tried to move closer to you. You glared at him and he stopped in his tracks. 

“You’re still upset with me,” he noted. 

“Of course I am. There’s nothing for me now. It was supposed to be over and now it’s not. You took that from me.”

“I took your ending,” he said, and you knew he understood.

“You did.”

“You’ll find a new ending someday.”

“But that one was mine. It mattered,” you said, frustrated that he couldn’t seem to get it.

“You matter.”

You scoffed. “I did.”

“You do.”

You turned away from him with a huff. “You don’t understand. You can’t.”

“Goodnight, little human.”

You fell into a fitful sleep against the cold stone of the cave. When you woke, however, you felt warm and safe. 

You opened your eyes to find Pytho standing over you, his body heat covering you in waves of warmth, even when he wasn’t touching you. 

“You were shivering,” he said, like it was that simple. You were cold, he was warm. There wasn’t anything else to be done. You hadn’t even known he understood what shivering was. 

You slid away from him, back into the cold. 

He watched you. That’s all he ever seemed to do. Watch you. “You’re mad at me but you’re punishing yourself.”

You didn’t dignify that with a response. “Let me go back.”

“I will not.”

You tried to sleep again but the cold felt harsher now, crueler. It was your turn to watch him, remember the waves of heat across your skin. 

You waited until his breathing leveled out, the rise and fall of his chest becoming uniform. You couldn’t handle a smug look or excitement. You just needed to sleep. 

You took the few steps between you slowly and gently leaned against his side. 

Almost instantly, without thinking, he curled around you, bundling you up in a nest of warm scales. His breathing was steady against your side. 

You’d never slept better. 

You woke to find his head a few inches from yours, propped up on his tail and staring at you with a soft gaze. 

“Good morning,” he said.

You gave him a hum of acknowledgment back. 

You were wracked with guilt. How could you be enjoying this, allowing yourself even these minor comforts? It wasn’t right. None of this was right. 

You pulled away from him, feeling sick.

Traitor. You’d betrayed them after they’d put so much trust in you. Who knew what was happening to them now, while you slept feeling warm and comfortable. 

“You still want to go?” he asked in hushed tones as you backed away, clearly afraid of the answer. 

You nodded. “I’m always going to want to go. I have to make this right.”

He let out a pained whine and moved towards you slowly, giving you the chance to stop him. 

You didn’t.

“You could be happy here,” he insisted. “Why won’t you just be happy here?”

“It just wasn’t meant to be." 

“Don’t want you to get hurt,” he whined out. 

You pressed your forehead to his. “Does it not matter what I want?”

He let out a huff and hot air cascaded over your face. He was always so warm. 

You pressed a kiss to his scaly nose. “I know you want to help, but I have to do this. Please let me do this.”

And he stared. Just stared at you, like he was drinking it in, trying to memorize you. 

Finally, his face fell and you knew exactly what it meant. 

“If you change your mind…” he said. “If you ever get the chance, come back to me. You’ll always have a safe place here.”

You nodded, still holding his head in your hands. You knew you never would, but it was nice to imagine returning someday. 

You looked down at your dress, dirty and torn, and you finished ripping off the golden cuff you’d started to tear days ago. 

“You can have this if you want. For what could have been.”

His eyes were glassy. You didn’t know dragons could cry. He grasped the golden cuff in his talons, tucking it away far from the rest of the gold, instead next to his beloved sheep. “For what could have been.”

A forlorn laugh escaped you as you looked at him. All three of you had sad eyes now. 

Before either of you had the chance to rethink it, he moved towards the mouth of the cave and you followed. 

Familiar talons grasped your shoulders and you were off again. 

This time, there was no blindfold. An entire landscape unfolded below you and you watched towns and rivers and forests pass you by at incredible speeds. 

Your hands reached up to grab Pytho’s legs, the seer distance to the ground making you dizzy. 

The flight was shorter than you remembered. You wished it wasn’t but as your feet touched grass, real grass rooted in the real ground, you knew there was nothing to be done. 

He dropped you off near the village but still outside of it. It was for the best, you couldn’t imagine anyone inside the town would be particularly pleased to see him. Worst case scenario, they might even try and hurt him. 

As soon as you’d properly landed he flew off, leaving you behind. No parting words, no last look. Before you knew it he was gone, a distant silhouette on a blue sky. 

 Good. You didn’t want him to see what might happen here anyways. 

The walk back was too quiet. You could hear the birds and the wind but none of it was enough to drown out the blood rushing in your ears. 

You didn’t know why your heart was pounding so loudly. This was what you wanted. You were back, ready to repent for the crime of being stolen. 

The first person who saw you was a boy. He couldn’t have been more than ten. He wandered on the outskirts of the village but as soon as he saw you he turned and ran back into the town, probably telling tales of your miraculous homecoming. 

You’d been so caught up in your return you had managed to think of little else but now, as you neared society once more, you realized what a mess you’d become. Your sacrificial dress was brown with now much dirt it had collected, ripped and shredded and hanging off of you in tatters. You were sure your face and hair were just as dirty. 

You walked further and further into town, unsure of what to do with yourself. You’d assumed someone else would tell you what to do but instead, they grouped together and stared, whispering and pointing as you trudged your way through the village. 

As you reached the center of town, you found a gathering waiting for you. 

You stopped in front of them, waiting as they inspected you. The same people who’d helped ready you and told you how vital you were to the town now looked down at you with thinly veiled disdain plastered across their faces. 

“I came back as soon as I could,” you said, your voice sounding small and weak. 

The man at the front of the group, the one who chose the sacrifices, made speeches about its vitalness every year, spoke. His voice boomed across the gathering. It didn’t feel fair. He was accustomed to speaking to crowds like this. You weren’t meant for this, of course you sounded small. “We chose another,” he said, and his words echoed in your ears. 

Your heart sank in your chest. Of course they did. What else would they have done? At least it meant the town was safe. So why did it sting so badly? 

“I can do it next year,” you said. “Please, let me do it next year. I’m here now.”

The man turned up his nose at you. “You abandoned your post.”

You could feel yourself getting more and more frantic as he spoke. “No, I was taken. I came back as soon as I could, I promise! Please.”

“An example must be made.”

You nodded, searching for a way out, any way you could still be useful. “Anything. I’ll do anything.”

The women who’d helped you bathe and get dressed a few days prior surged forwards, grasping at your arms. They held you in place as you refused to struggle. 

“This is what happens to deserters,” he called out over the crowd.

You could barely think, barely hear his words. 

The fact that you’d been replaced kept running through your mind. You’d been raised for this. It was all you’d ever wanted. You’d dreamed of it. 

You weren’t so sure you wanted it anymore. 

It didn’t matter anyways. It was too late. You’d left. 

The man chanting to the crowd pulled out a knife. 

It felt like what you deserved. Your chest tightened with guilt and fear. Now it wouldn’t even be for anything. Just an example, nothing more. 

Maybe it was saving them, in a way. Saving them from an epidemic of girls who thought they could escape it and damn the town in the meantime. Maybe you still could die for something. 

A thudding sound echoes in your ears, slightly out of time with your heartbeat. It felt almost grounding, helped you ignore the chants of deserter and heathen. You didn’t have the strength to try and defend yourself, to insist that no, you’d fought to come back. You weren’t even sure you believed that anymore. You latched onto the thudding, anything to get those words out of your head. 

And then the arms that had held you down were being ripped away and instead you found yourself being lifted. This was not the endless upwards motion of your dragon. Instead, you found yourself hoisted onto the back of a horse. 

Hard metal dug into your side and you looked up to see a knight in full armour, his face hidden by his helm and his arm hooked around your waist. 

You pounded your fists against him, fighting to be let go. “No!” you shouted. “I need to do this. I need to be forgiven.”

The knight's grip on you tightened and the horse you were both on sped up. Neither seemed to find your fighting anything more than mildly inconvenient. 

Before long, your struggle slowed. You were becoming very used to the intense frustration that accompanied being trapped, being taken away with no regard for what you wanted. 

You lost track of time as you rode. You’d just been trying to make things right, even if you couldn’t do what you were meant to do. The universe seemed intent on stopping you. 

Maybe you’d done something wrong, offended the cosmos so severely you were no longer permitted to do what you were meant for. 

As the horse slowed, the knight's grip on you loosened. 

He set you gently on the ground in the midst of this unfamiliar forest and you glared up at him. 

“Can I go now?” you hissed. “Or am I still being kidnapped?”

“There were going to kill you,” he said as he dismounted his horse.

“You don’t know what was going on,” you insisted. “Maybe I deserved it.”

He rummaged around in his saddlebag. “Maybe.”

You reeled back a little, not expecting him to agree with you. “Oh. Can I go back then?”

“No. Here, eat this.” He held out some dried meat in your direction.

You refused it. It would be a waste anyways. 

“Why can’t I go?” you asked. If he didn’t even know if you were in the right, what reason could he possibly have for taking you? 

“I’ve heard about your village, you know. I was worried I was too late. They’ve messed with your mind. It’s not your fault but you’re not making good choices right now.”

“My choices are fine,” you shouted. “Who are you to decide that? You don’t even know what I did.”

“What did you do?”

“I shirked my duty. I should have been there.”

“For what?”

“To be their sacrifice.”

“You didn’t deserve that.”

You did, but he couldn’t know that. It was beyond him. 

It was hard to remember where you were. It didn’t make sense. Why weren’t you home? Or were you? You knew that you should be. Why wouldn’t you be? 

You saw your dress, dirty and crumpled and ripped. You’d ruined it. How would you go through with the ritual now? 

Something in you always knew you’d ruin it somehow. And now things were all wrong. Who else’s fault could it be?

The knight pushed some food at you and once again you were in a forest far from home. 

You threw it back at him. “I said I don’t want it. Aren’t you going to eat?”

That damn helmet stared back at you for a moment before he said, “Maybe later.”

“Do you have a name?” you asked, desperate to get anything from him. 

“Phillip.”

You missed your dragon. At least you could see his face and try to figure out what he was thinking. 

He got up without warning, and you jumped a little at the sudden movement. 

He froze for a second as you did, staring down at you before continuing on, trudging through the nearby bushes. 

He returned in a few moments. 

“There’s a pond back there,” he said, gesturing towards the foliage. “It’s not too cold, you should be fine.” He started to move back towards his horse before pausing for a moment and adding, “It might make you feel better.”

You went to inspect this pond as he tended to his horse. 

It was a small pond, the trees around it curling over the top of it, mostly blocking out the sun. You dipped your foot into the water and found that the knight was technically right, it wasn’t cold enough to hurt you. It still wasn’t a pleasant temperature but right now it was the best you were going to get. 

As you tested out the water, you watched from behind the bushes as he mounted his horse and started to ride away. 

It made sense. You wouldn’t want to keep you around either. At this point, you were just ungrateful dead weight. 

You considered taking off your dress and attempting to keep it dry but at this point, it consisted more of rips and dirt than anything. Dousing it in water might do it some good. 

You sunk into the cold water, doing your best to get the dirt out of your hair. As long as you were in here, you might as well attempt to get clean. 

You wondered if you could find your way back to Pytho’s cave. If you could manage to get close you were sure he’d be able to find you. At least you hoped he would. It was the only place you had left to go. 

You had no real desire to prolong the bath in the cold water. You just didn’t know what came next. After this, where could you even go?

Your fingers began to prune and you know you couldn’t do this forever. 

As you exited the pool in your sopping wet, muddy, ripped ceremonial dress, you decided you needed to go. You weren’t sure if you were trying to find your village or Pytho but it didn’t really matter, you had no sense of what direction either was in. You just needed to be headed somewhere. 

You made it half a dozen steps before you collapsed. 

You didn’t even notice he’d returned until he was right in front of you, staring down at you collapsed in the dirt in your soaking-wet dress. 

You watched his helmet as he looks you up and down, lingering a second too long on your chest before snapping his head back up towards your face.

He cleared his throat and you would have bet money that his face was bright red beneath his helm. 

“Apologies, my lady. I thought you might want some fresh clothes.”

He held out some folded clothes with a pair of leather boots balanced atop them. 

No. It wasn’t right. This was supposed to be the last outfit you ever wore. It felt like a betrayal to take it off. 

“No thank you,” you said from your spot on the ground. “I’ll stick with what I have.”

“I know they’re not much but they’ll fit.”

You shook your head again. 

You heard a quiet, muffled sigh escape him. “The sun is setting, you’ll freeze to death if you wear those. You can change back in the morning if you really want to.”

You eyed him suspiciously. “Promise?”

He nodded. “Promise.”

You took the clothes with a sigh. “Fine. Turn around.”

You’d never seen him move so fast. It was like he was afraid you’d start stripping the second you decided to change. 

A giggle escaped you and you watched his shoulders tense up at the noise. It seemed like the two of you were having entirely different kinds of crises. 

You got dressed as quickly as you could, a chill starting to set deep in your bones. He’d found you a faded red tunic that hung midway down your thighs and some pants that miraculously fit pretty well. 

The boots had thick woolen socks inside and putting them on felt like heaven. You swore you’d never wear pretty shoes again as long as these were an option. 

You didn’t bother telling Phillip he could turn around. He’d figure it out in his own time. Or he wouldn’t. It wasn’t really your problem. 

As you got ready to sleep, you watched him, keeping track of time as best you could. It took him about twenty minutes before he finally peeked over his shoulder, finding you sitting with your back against a tree. 

You gave him a halfhearted smile and he cleared his throat. “You should rest now,” he said. “We have to leave at dawn.”

“And when are you going to stop dragging me around with you?”

“Whenever you’d like. I can drop you off at a town tomorrow. I just have something I need to attend to first”

You knew by now not to get hopeful. “Can you drop me off at my town?” You kept asking but you didn’t know what the point of it was. There was nothing for you there anymore. The most you could do was repent. Pay for what you’d done. But for what?

“I can drop you off at any other town.”

You slid down the tree, basically lying on the ground. “Alright. 

He spent the rest of the night in full armour and you wondered if maybe part of him thought you might attack him. Either that or these woods were more dangerous than you knew. 

He awoke you the second the sun began to peek over the horizon and you groaned, trying to kick him away from you. 

He would not be deterred, coaxing you up and onto the back of his horse. You got on behind him and wrapped your arms around him for stability with minimal protest. You didn’t have the energy to fight him on it. 

It took you too long to realize you'd left your dress behind, discarded in the mud.

The ride was much more comfortable when you weren’t being held captive. 

Forests and plains and mountains passed, all foreign and strange. You’d never left your town before, never seen anything like this. Even in your bad mood, it was hard not to admire it. 

Your heart stopped as you noticed one of the mountains that the two of you were fast approaching seemed familiar. 

It had taken you too long to recognize it but in your defense, you were used to seeing it from a cave right at the peak.

You shut your eyes and prayed to anyone that might be listening that you’d ride right by it. 

If the gods were listening, they had a special hatred for you. You weren’t sure you could blame them. 

 Phillip lead the horse along the precarious path you’d deemed too dangerous only days ago.

You needed to figure out a plan but you had nothing. 

With only a few minutes left before you reached the peak, Phillip dismounted, holding out his hand to help you down. You half considered trying to take his horse to go warn Pytho but you had no real idea how to ride one on your own and you couldn’t shake the feeling you’d ride the pair of you right off the cliff edge. The poor creature didn’t deserve that. 

You dismounted and Phillip nodded, getting right back on the horse. “You stay here, I won’t be long.”

“No,” you yelled, a little louder than was necessary. Phillip flinched, probably worried it had echoed up the mountain and warned the dragon at the top of his presence. You hoped it had. “I want to come.”

“These are dangerous lands, m’lady. I will not let you get hurt.”

You scowled at him. “You know, people won’t stop saying that to me.”

The helm stared down at you, unwavering, before he gave his horse a swift kick in the side and it rode up the narrow path. 

You took off in a dead sprint after him. 

You neared the top of the path, panting, just in time to see Phillip creeping into the cave, sword drawn and at the ready. 

You had no idea what to do. You couldn’t just stand here and do nothing but you felt frozen in place. 

The problem was, you’d rather neither of them were hurt. It felt like an impossible situation. 

Pytho needed to be warned but as gentle as he’d been with you, he could decimate Phillip in a second. That much you were certain of, no matter how competent of a knight Phillip might be. 

You finally willed yourself to move, darting into the cave to see Pytho standing over Phillip, who had his sword positioned right at the dragon’s neck. 

Before you could even think, you shouted, “Don’t hurt him!”

You had no real idea which of them you were talking to but both stopped in their tracks, heads spinning towards you. 

For one moment you were terrified one would take advantage of the distraction to harm the other and then their blood would be on your hands. Before the worry had time to settle, Pytho swung his tail around, hitting Phillip over the head with it. 

He instantly collapsed to the ground, going limp. 

You rummaged around in the saddlebag as Pytho stared at you. When you finally found rope you raised it triumphantly. 

Pytho’s gaze followed it up. “What is that?” he asked as you rushed towards the knight. 

“It’s rope,” you informed him as you tried and failed to drag him across the floor. As soon as Pytho realized what you were doing, he swept him effortlessly into the corner for you. 

You bound his hands behind his back, tethering him to some heavy golden chair that would at least slow any escape he tried to make. 

“You’re back,” Pytho said behind you, his voice airy and incredulous and so very grateful. 

You turned from binding the knight with a big smile. “I am. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to make it back but this guy led me right here,” he said, nudging at him with your foot. 

He didn’t seem to hear any of it. “I can’t believe you’re back.” His eyes were wide, refusing to leave you. 

You nodded, grabbing Phillip’s abandoned sword and throwing it right off the mountain, listening to the clanging noises as it bounced all the way down. You glanced nervously at Phillip as you returned, leading his horse over by the sheep. “I am. This is so rude but can you please go for a couple minutes? If you’re still here when he wakes I’m afraid he might perish from fright.”

He nodded. “If that’s what you want. I will be back.” 

He bumped his head lightly into you before heading out, flying off somewhere. 

And not a moment too soon. 

The knight stirred from his slumber. The only way you could tell was by how his helm slowly moved up, rising to meet your gaze. 

The second he did he tried to move before realizing he was bound. “Why?” he asked you. “I don’t understand, you… Was this all a trap?” His voice cracked and he sounded genuinely hurt by the betrayal. 

You felt a pang of sympathy in your chest as he struggled against his bindings. Quiet fearful noises escaped him as he glanced between you and Pytho’s horde.

You shushed him, your hands up in a quiet surrender. “We’re not going to hurt you. You’ll be just fine.”

“We? You’re in cahoots with this monster?”

You bristled at the harsh langue but did your best to be forgiving to the frightened man. 

“He’s not a monster. He helped me. Why are you even here? He hasn’t hurt anyone.”

“That’s not what I heard. From what I’ve heard he’s been snatching up women.”

You groaned, rubbing at your temples. As you did, the knight leaned forward as much as he could and even through the stoic armour, you could tell exactly when he realized. 

“No. But… but you….”

“I just wanted to help my people. I don’t know why every creature within a thousand miles is trying to stop me.”

“If he took you, how did you escape?”

“I didn’t. I asked him to let me go, to be able to make my own choices, and he did. Because he respects me and didn’t kidnap me on the back of a horse!” You tactfully decided to omit the original kidnapping. At least for now. You had a feeling it wouldn’t help your case. 

“Please, it’s a dragon, it…”

“He! He’s a dragon! And at least he’s allowed me to make decisions.”

He reeled back. “I… you were going to get yourself killed. I couldn’t just let you get yourself killed. It isn’t right.”

“And it’s not your choice to make.”

He hung his head, helmet clanging against his chest plate. 

Pytho chose then to return, his tail swishing happily as he walked. He rubbed up against your side, letting out a happy rumble as he did. 

“So they let you go?” Pytho asked, ignoring the man on the floor. 

“Not exactly. They were going to kill me. They wanted to make an example of me.” You couldn’t help but smile. “I can’t imagine that the example they wanted to set was getting rescued by a knight but I suppose that’s the hand they were dealt. 

Pytho turned his gaze to Phillip. “You saved her?”

He nodded hesitantly. 

Another pleased noise escaped Pytho. “He’s a good one. I’m glad you didn’t let me kill him.”

“About that,” you said and you watched Phillip freeze up, all of his limbs locking. You glanced at him, adding, “I said we weren’t going to hurt you, calm down. I was just going to say, Pytho, you should let him go.”

The dragon tilted his head. “Why? I like him, he’s shiny.”

You suppressed a laugh. “He’s not shiny, his armour is. It’s like clothing.”

“Oh. Why do you creatures insist on that stuff? Seems awfully restrictive.”

Phillip cut into your conversation, saying, “I can’t leave.”

You looked over at him, a wave of irritation rushing through you. “Why not?”

“I can’t leave you here with this beast.”

You had half a mind to throw something at him. “Get this through your head, I don’t need you to save me.”

“It wouldn’t be right,” he continued, undeterred. 

“Fine. But I’m not untying you and risking you hurting him.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

Pytho’s head swiveled between the two of you as you bickered. As the argument finally finished, he asked in a hushed tone, although still lough enough that Phillip could hear, “Does that mean we get to keep him.”

You snorted. “Guess so. It’s your lucky day.”

“It really is,” he said, voice as genuine as it could be. 

The sunlight was fast fading and you knew how cold it could get in here. You had no intention of sleeping alone but you glanced at your mostly willing captive. 

“Pytho?” you called out. 

He turned to you immediately. “Yes? Do you need something?”

“Could you go get some wood?”

“Of course I can,” he said, already speeding off. 

When he returned, he had a whole tree in his mouth and another in his talons, dirt still clinging to their roots. 

You bent over laughing as he dropped them both in front of you, tail swishing behind him. They’d barely fit through the mouth of the cave, filling up a significant amount of the room and knocking over at least one pile of gold in the meantime. 

You got to work snapping off some of the more reasonably sized branches, having Pytho move the trees back outside as you finished. 

You set them up a few feet away from Phillip, far enough away that he’d be safe but could still feel the warmth. 

“You can breathe fire right?” you called back to Pytho. It would be unfortunate if he couldn’t because you did not have the proper tools to start one here. 

He nodded, visibly eager. “Do you need one?”

“Just on the sticks here. Make sure not to burn anyone,” you said, nearing Phillip to ensure that he didn’t forget there was a person inside of the shiny armour and cook him. 

With a quick and surprisingly controlled burst of flame, the pile of sticks turned into a quaint little fire. 

You gave Phillip a pat on the shoulder as you headed over to Pytho. “Goodnight. Have fun sleeping in full armour.”

He didn’t respond. 

You left the fire behind to go curl up with Pytho. No fire could compare to his warm scales, of that you were certain. 

A happy rumble escaped him and ran through you as you leaned against him. 

He spoke in hushed tones, face right in front of yours as his tail curled around you. “I can’t believe you came back.”

“I shouldn’t have,” you said, giving him a quick kiss on his snout. “But I think I realized I didn’t really want to be anywhere else.”

His head leaned into your touch immediately, a wistful look in his eyes. 

“I wish I could do that.”

“What, kiss me?” you asked with a laugh. “Well, how do dragons kiss?”

Without another word he licked a long stripe up the side of your face, leaving a sticky residue behind. 

You giggled as you felt his spit on your cheek. “Well, my way is definitely less messy.”

He let out a noise that sounded almost like a purr, resting his head in your lap. “I like it your way.”

You hummed quietly and you wished he could feel it reverberating through his body the way you did for him. You curled happily into warm scales, surrounded by an overwhelming sense of safety, and fell asleep in your new home. 

The next morning, you realized you had no idea how to tell if Phillip was awake or not. He could have escaped and left only his empty armour behind and it would be impossible to tell. 

What you did know was that he hadn’t eaten. 

Pytho still had some slightly stale bread from your last stay here and you’d brought in all of Phillip’s supplies. You grabbed some dried meat and the freshest of the bread that you could find, heading over to him. 

“Good morning,” you said, hoping he could hear you.

He shifted, just barely, to turn to you. It seemed like the most positive reaction you could hope for. 

“Okay, you need to eat. Here, just let me.” You went to lift his helm but paused as he flinched away from your hand. 

“Please don’t.” His voice was low and shaky. 

You backed off, keeping your hands up and away from him. “Okay,” you said, “But you do need to eat.” 

There wasn’t any other way to do it. You reached behind him, pressed close to him as you untied his hands. As you struggled with the knots, you felt his breath hitch in his chest. 

After a few moments, you pulled away from the newly freed knight, rope in hand. “Tada.”

He froze once more, something you were getting used to, and just stared down at the rope for a minute, flexing his hands by his sides. 

With no warning, he grabbed the food you’d gathered for him and stood on shaky legs, giving you a small nod before he headed out toward the mouth of the cave. It was near where the animals were being kept, tied up to some golden pillar near the front. If he wanted to, he could leave here and now.

You waited patiently for him, avoiding looking in his direction, even if you were sure he’d gone far enough that you wouldn’t be able to see him. 

He quickly returned, fast enough that he must have scarfed down his food.

He presented his hands to you and it took a second to realize he was waiting to be tied up again.

You scoffed, looking at him dubiously. “Is that really necessary?” It seemed silly to tie him up again after that.

His hands stayed out and you rolled your eyes as you grabbed the rope. 

You tied them in front of him this time, taking much less care with the knots as you did. 

“Where are you a knight of?” you asked as you pulled the knot taut. “I see no insignias anywhere on you. That doesn’t seem normal.”

“My kingdom is long gone, m’lady.”

“Still so respectful, even after everything I’ve put you through. Well, sir knight, how can you be a knight with no kingdom to serve?”

His head cocked to the side as if baffled by the question. “I know nothing else.”

You paused a moment before asking. “How long have you been doing this?”

He remained ever impossible to read, although that never stopped you from trying. After a long, stoic pause, he simply shrugged and said, “I’ve lost track of the years.”

“And so what? No kingdom to speak of, you just keep fighting?”

“I do what I’ve always done.” Like it was as simple as that. 

“Don’t you get tired?”

“I never have the time.”

“Well, sir knight, I think you were just about due for some rest anyways.”

He didn’t respond, the helmet following you as you left him.

He was so stoic. You weren’t sure how it was easier to get a read on a dragon than a man but somehow he’d managed it. 

Anything other than silent staring began to feel out of place. 

“M’lady,” Phillip called out. You turned, confused. It wasn’t like him to start a conversation. 

“Yeah?”

“Where is my sword?” he asked. 

You’d forgotten he was unconscious for that. “Oh. I threw it off the mountain.”

“You what? Why?”

Pytho chimed in immediately. “I can get it.”

You shifted between him and the entrance to the cave as quickly as you could. “No, you will not.”

“Why?” asked Phillip.

“What do you mean why? You tried to kill him.”

“I won’t attack him unprovoked.”

“You already did attack him unprovoked.”

“I didn’t have all the information. For that, I am truly sorry, sir.”

Pytho’s chest puffed up at the title. “You are forgiven. And I am sorry that I almost destroyed you.”

That caused Phillip to reel back a little. “You did not. I can best a dragon easily, I almost slit your throat.”

Pytho huffed and you smelled a bit of smoke on his breath. “You did not.”

“Okay,” you said, cutting in. “You’re both very dangerous. I’d still love it if we could keep the sword where it is.”

Phillip nodded. “I understand your hesitancy.”

He said it tied up on the floor. Despite not having a weapon, despite his promise not to try and hurt Pytho, despite the fact that you'd already untied him so he could eat. 

“This is stupid,” you said, pacing up to him and immediately setting to work on the knots and ignoring his quiet noises in protest. 

It didn’t take long to undo them, you’d put barely any effort into tying them in the first place. 

“We have to free you so you can eat anyway, I don’t understand your obsession with this little performance.”

Phillip froze, still holding his hands together despite the lack of rope. 

“What should I do?” he asked you quietly. 

You threw the rope to the side. “That’s up to you.”

It took him hours before he was even willing to stand from his spot on the floor. 

His movements were all colored by hesitation. You understood. The freedom made staying a choice. And even when he managed to stand, to move from his corner, he stayed.

He stuck to his corner as often as he could, but nonetheless, he stayed. Watching him sleep alone in the cold, you were certain that this was how Pytho had felt every night when you froze your ass off far away from him. 

You both lit the fire for him every night. Pytho has started running off to get wood without you even asking, even if the trees that remained outside left you with enough wood to last years. 

His armour got lighter as time passed, forgoing pieces from time to time. No matter what, the helmet stayed. It felt like a part of him, like you could imagine there possibly being a man under there. 

He was adjusting to the newfound freedom about as well as you’d expected. 

With every small sign of growing comfort, something else went wrong. 

A few days after his freeing, while Pytho was out gathering more food for the two of you to eat, you heard him muttering in the corner. 

You drifted closer and he paid you no mind. You couldn’t make out any words but you could tell it was frantic.

“Phillip,” you said softly, doing your best not to startle him. “Are you alright?”

You had no idea if you’d frightened him, he remained entirely unreadable. All except for his hands. He had foregone his gloves and much of the armour on his arms and you watched as he nervously fidgeted, threatening his fingers together, cracking his knuckles absentmindedly, his hands never staying still for more than a moment. 

“I’m wasting time here,” he said. “I have things to do. I have a duty to this land.” 

You knew it was near impossible to get through to him but you couldn’t help the urge to try. “It’s a waste to rest?”

“It is. I need to go, need to continue on.”

You sat beside him, as close as you could get without touching. “You should take me back home on your way. I’ve got a duty too, you know.” 

His head fell back. Metal against stone sent a clanging noise echoing across the walls. “That’s different. You were brainwashed.”

“I wasn’t. The monsters are real you know. I’ve seen them. We all do, every year. I really would have been saving them. Whatever girl they chose instead of me really did save them. Maybe you don’t think it’s right. That’s fine. It’s an important duty nonetheless.”

“It’s not the same. I’m not being marched to my death.”

“People will still need saving in a week, in a year, in a century. There’s no real, final end to it. There has to be ends to it for you. Little ones. There just has to be.”

His head was turned towards you and you squirmed, feeling like you were being studied. 

Finally, he said, “It upsets you.”

“What?”

“That I never stop. That upsets you?”

You nodded. “It does.”

“I can stand tiny ends to it. To ease your mind.”

A sad laugh escaped you. “I’d rather you did it for you.”

“That’s the best I can do right now. You’re the same, aren’t you?”

And you supposed you were. “I can’t go back. I can’t do that to him. Or to you, I guess.”

A small laugh escaped him, a noise you weren’t sure you’d ever heard from him before. “You guess. I’ll take it.” 

Pytho returned, entering the cave a little too quickly and knocking one of his piles of treasure over. He dropped a cart in front of you, this one with boxes of pastries covering it. 

“The humans seemed to love this one,” he said with his disarming, open-mouthed grin. 

“Who are you taking those from?” Phillip asked incredulously, and you were almost certain you could hear a smile in his voice. 

You grabbed something that looked chocolatey and when you felt that it was still warm you almost sobbed. “I don’t care who he’s taking it from,” you said, taking a massive bite of it. “This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

You scarfed down three pastries, offering a small piece to Pytho, just so he could taste it. He spat it back out, questioning how you could ever eat something like that. 

And then you remembered your stoic knight, still sitting beside you, just watching you eat, and a sense of guilt overtook you. 

“I’m sorry,” you said and he perked up as you addressed him. “You know, I could turn around or we could close our eyes. We wouldn’t have to see anything. So we could eat together.”

You didn’t wait for an answer, didn’t wait for him to politely refuse, instead turning around and signaling for Pytho to do the same. You shut your eyes, just for good measure, as you leaned against the dragon. 

The quiet thud of the helmet being set on the floor made your heart swell. 

As you took another bite of a pastry, this one filled with a beautiful lemon cream, he slid his hand into your open one and ate behind you, slower than he’d ever eaten before. 

Even if it was for you, you hoped he enjoyed it. 

And still, no matter how much progress you made, every night he still slept in that goddamn corner. 

You were glad Pytho curled up around you at night because then at least you couldn't see him, sad and alone next to his fire, away from the two of you. 

You knew Pytho could tell it bothered you. He always did his best to distract you, pull all of your attention to him. He’d gotten pretty good at it. 

He was nuzzling into your side, pulling giggles from you as he gave you a big, slobbery kiss on your face. 

“What are dragon kisses for?” you asked. 

“What?”

“I’m just curious. Humans kiss their kids, their partners, their parents, all sorts of people they love. Dragon kisses don’t feel like something you can do as casually as a kiss on the cheek.”

Pytho perked up immediately. “You love me?”

You pressed a kiss into his cheek. “Of course I do.”

He purred at you as he answered your question. “Well, dragon kisses are just for mates. We aren’t an overly affectionate species.”

“Could’ve fooled me. You know, maybe you can’t kiss like a human but I could kiss like a dragon.”

He tilted his head and you decided to take the gesture as a challenge. 

You opened your mouth and licked a broad stripe up the side of his face. His scales tasted ashy and were incredibly smooth against your tongue. 

A wave of heat passed through him as you did, a deep guttural sound escaping him. 

You pulled back, trying to get a better look at him. 

“What was that?” you asked quietly. 

He ducked his head down in a poor attempt to hide from you. “Nothing. It was nothing.”

Something clicked in your head. “Hold on. You said dragons only kiss their mates.”

He nodded hesitantly. 

“You kiss me all the time though.”

He whined again, his tail moving away from you and curling in front of him. “I’m sorry. I know it’s strange, I know you’re human, I can't help it. You're so soft and nice and I love you so much…”

As his words got more frantic you kissed his snout again, shushing him. “You should’ve told me. If I’d known my big, strong dragon wanted me maybe I could’ve done something about it sooner.”

You practically watched his eyes glaze over, head tucking into your chest as he purred more. 

You gave him all the kisses you could, peppering them along his head wherever you could reach. After about a dozen, you decided to try another dragon one, licking along his jaw. 

You were flipped and pinned under him in a second, looking up at a ravenous face. His wings were folded over the two of you, blocking you from the outside world. In here, it was just the two of you. 

You couldn’t be happier. 

“Please, let me see you,” he hissed and you struggled to get your clothes off as quickly as you could. You kicked your pants off and they got caught on your ankles, spurring on a minor giggling fit, feeling absolutely giddy. 

And he just watched, perfectly content to stare down at you as you waged a minor battle against your clothes, desperate to get your bare skin against his. 

As you lay below him, finally fully naked, you didn’t feel shy or self-conscious. It felt right, the two of you, like this. 

“I will never understand clothes,” he informed you. “Why would you ever cover this up?”

His head shifted around, looking at every part of you he’d never gotten to see before. 

As his head moved downwards, you could tell exactly when he noticed how wet you were. He stopped moving entirely, nostrils flaring and eyes locked on you. 

He nosed at you and you opened your legs for him, spreading them as wide as they could go. 

His tongue snaked out instantly, licking a hot stripe through your folds. Whatever he found there seemed to interest him because the next thing you knew his thick tongue was snaking deep inside of you, your walls stretching around him. 

You let out a strangled cry, fighting to not snap your legs closed at how overwhelming the sensation was. 

His content vibrations ran through you, causing a spark of pleasure to run up your spine. 

His tongue found a spot deep inside of you that’d didn’t quite feel like the rest, rubbing against it experimentally and you slapped your hand over your mouth, trying not to scream. 

It was too much. You’d never felt anything like this before. 

His jaw was cracked open over your stomach, his impossibly long tongue reaching as far into you as it could go. 

His tongue slowly withdrew from you and you didn’t know whether to beg for him to keep going or take your reprieve from the overwhelming sensation while you could. 

You noticed his hips shifting and glanced down. Your heart skipped a beat. 

He was massive, probably a foot long. 

“That’s not going to fit,” you whispered.

The dragon shook his head. “No, I would never try. You’re too small, it would break you. I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“What about you?” you asked, feeling bad you couldn’t reciprocate. 

“I have everything I need,” he said, nuzzling into your chest once more. “But if you want someone your size, we could always ask for help.”

Your face heated as you realized what he was implying. To be honest, you’d entirely forgotten Phillip was there, too caught up in what you were doing. Oh god, he’d probably heard everything. 

Pytho lifted his wings as you looked at Phillip, who had turned to face the wall. 

“I am so sorry,” you called out, embarrassment washing over you. 

He turned to you slowly and you prepared to get yelled at. 

Instead, his voice came out breathy and strained. “Do you want me to help?”

Your heart skipped a beat as you stared back at him. “I do. 

He moved towards the pair of you. “I live to serve”

You wanted to kiss him. You wanted so badly to kiss him and you just couldn’t.

So instead you made do, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards you. He fell next to you, both of you leaning against Pytho. 

He froze a little as your hands neared his helmet and you whispered, “Trust me.”

He untensed, although you could sense his anxiety. 

You grasped the side of his helmet slowly, tilting it gently to the side to reveal a sliver of his neck. You moved towards it, taking all the self-control you had to go slowly. 

He shivered as you neared him, your breath ghosting over his skin. 

You started gently, pressing soft kisses into his skin. 

Before long you wanted more, nipping at his neck and sucking marks into it as he let out little whines. You could feel his throat move as he swallowed, could feel his muscles tense as you moved.

Eventually, he pulled you away from him and you looked up at him, wide-eyed.

“Um…” he said, his voice shaky and high. “If you do want me to… to help. You need to stop doing that. 

You smiled, resting your forehead on his helm. “If you insist.”

The way you’d pulled at his clothes, shifting his shirt out of the way, meant you could see as he gulped. 

His hand hovered inches over your hip, as if afraid to touch you. You covered it with your own, pressing it onto bare skin. 

You didn’t mind his staring so much now. You could feel the waves of awe coming off of him as his hands gently slid up and down your sides. 

You hooked your fingers into the front of his pants and pulled him closer to you. 

“Please,” you asked. 

He didn’t bother taking his pants off, instead pulling them down just enough to get his dick out, already painfully hard. 

Pytho’s tongue had more than prepared you and Phillip seemed like if someone breathed on him wrong he might come so you wasted no time, pulling him over to you. 

Pytho sat there, watching as Phillip pushed inside of you. He was painfully slow, groaning with every inch. 

Your walls fluttered as his hand pressed tentatively down on your clit and he had to stop entirely, breathing slowly. 

“Do you know how hard it was,” he gasped out as he buried himself fully inside of you, unmoving. “Hearing all that and not touching myself. It felt like torture. 

You could feel Pytho shifting behind you, molding himself against your back as you saw his hips twitch, grinding against nothing. 

You opened your mouth to speak when your words were cut off with a sharp thrust. 

Phillip gripped your hips so hard you were worried it might bruise in the morning. You couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

He slowly found his rhythm, desperately trying to pull you impossibly closer as he thrusted inside of you.

You felt something hard against your back, moving as Phillip slammed inside of you again. And then, as if sharing one mind, you felt a sticky substance coat your back just as Phillip gave you one final, hard thrust, groaning as he came inside of you. 

As soon as Phillip pulled out, Pytho rushed to snake his tongue back inside of you. It was so dexterous, pressing up perfectly inside of you as he tasted both you and Phillip. 

Phillips fingers intertwined with yours as your back arched and you felt waves of pleasure run through you. Pytho seemed intent on working you through it, his tongue moving steadily until you could take it anymore. 

You pushed at his head and he lifted it, mouth slick and eyes looking just as dazed as you felt. 

You were all gross and sticky and you’d never been happier in your life. 

Phillip snorted. “I was supposed to kill you.”

“Plans change,” you said. 

“You never could have killed me,” Pytho declared and you couldn’t help but smile as their argument began again. 

You woke up in a tangle of limbs. Your head was tucked into Phillip's chest, his arms wrapped around you with just the tip of Pytho’s tail betwixt you. You were both entirely surrounded by him, curled up protectively around you. 

Pytho had to take both of you down to the nearest lake to get clean the next morning. He sat patiently at the edge of the pond as both of you washed off the mess from the night before. 

Phillip helped you clean, scrubbing your back and running his fingers gently through your hair as you both stood in the waist-deep water. 

You’d had the good sense to remove your clothes but Phillip had to clean his along with himself, standing in the water in his pants, shirt, and that helmet. 

It seemed a little silly but you wouldn’t bother him over it. It would come in due time. Or maybe it wouldn’t and honestly, you didn’t think you would mind. 

Pytho was content watching the two of you, occasionally shifting his tail to splash water at you, a favor you returned to him readily. 

As the cleaning finished and the three of you sat on the shore, drying off, Phillip braided your hair as you both leaned against your warm dragon. 

You were curious where he’d learned it but scared to ask, to remind him of anything other than this perfect moment. 

He did not seem to understand how precious and fragile this moment was, breaking the silence by saying, “I can’t stay here,” and shattering everything. 

You looked at him with panicked eyes and Pytho hid his head under his wing. 

“What?”

His next words came slower, more gently. “I think we’ve made a little home here. I do. But I can’t just stay.”

You nodded. You understood. “Neither can I. You’re going off adventuring again, right?”

He nodded and you immediately added, before you could lose your nerve. “I want to come.”

“It’s going to be dangerous,” he said, his voice not commanding but instead cautious and worried. 

“Please. I need to do something, to help someone. I feel like I’ve got a debt on my back. I can’t let it hang over me like this forever.”

He went to protest but you stopped him. “I don’t care what you think, I can’t live with it. Please.”

He nodded. “First, we’re going to need to find my sword.”

You gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sure it won’t be too hard.”

“And we can’t come back every night,” he continued. “You’re going to have to spend days on the road. You sure that’s what you want?”

You rolled your eyes. “I think I can manage for a few days.”

Pytho lifted his head from where he was hiding it. “Come back? You said you can’t stay?”

It took a second to understand what he could possibly be asking. The idea of leaving him forever was so inconceivable to you that you hadn’t realized what this must have looked like. 

You rushed over to him, kissing his forehead. “No, I’m not leaving you. Neither of us are. We just…I just can’t stay in a cave for the rest of my life.”

“People will still need helping,” Phillip chimed in, standing behind you. “I won’t ever stop doing this. It’s what I was made to do. But it's been too long. I think it was about time I found a home to come back to.”

You smiled at him as you leaned into your dragon’s side. “I think it was.”

[duckie-deer-prompts]

Duckie Deer Prompt #12

Alastor: Oh, no, Rosie. The King and I do not have cutesy, saccharine nicknames for each other.

Rosie: Hmm, I see. By the way, what sort of ears do you have again?

Alastor: Deer?

Lucifer: Yes, honey?

Alastor: ...

Rosie: Do not ever lie to my face again.

[ncis-yp]

Comfy clothes (Gibbs x reader) [FLUFF]

You laid in bed the second you got home from work. Still in your work clothes, your glasses still on. Utterly exhausted from the day. Jethro walked in to see you knocked out and glasses out of place, snoring lightly.

“Get up” Jethro says and you nearly bolted up, reaching for your gun that was clearly not in its holster.

“Fuck” you groan, taking your glasses off and tiredly rubbing your eyes. Jets blurred figure in front of you and your eyes readjusted.

“I’m surprised you remembered to take your gun out” he chuckled. “You were knocked out when I walked in.

“I don’t even remember taking it out” you giggle sleepily. He smiled at you as he began undressing you. “What’re you doing?” You smile.

“Putting you to bed” he replied. “Was it bad today?”

“Got shot at twice, chased a burglar down the street and tackled him, got stuck in an interrogation room for a few hours, and I did training first thing this morning” you reply.

“Nasty bruises” he ran his hand down you ribs.

“Yeah doc said I’ll be alright. Just give it a few weeks to heal. I’ll get wrapped up tomorrow, IF I have pain while I’m breathing”

“And?”

“I definitely do have pain while I’m breathing” you admit.

“Guess that means I gotta be gentle.” He smiles as he looks up at you from his knees. You cock your eyebrow as his pretty blue eyes blink up at you. Standing, he unclips your bra and passes you his USMC hoodie. Your favorite of his hoodies to date.

“Oh no no” you say putting on the hoodie. “I’ll still kick your ass.” You quickly clutched your pillow to your chest as you coughed. Groaning at the discomfort. Jethros face twisted in distaste at the picture of you.

“We’re getting you wrapped now. Get up” he gently helps you up and makes a phone call.

30 minutes later you were sitting on a cold steel table getting your thorax wrapped up tightly. You were wincing in pain.

“Ah not to fret, my dear” Ducky said softly. “Keep this tightly wrapped for a few days and it’ll mend the pain when coughing”

“Thank you Dr. Mallard” you smile softly.

“Ducky, to you. And according to your X-rays, you’re in no harm. Nothing but bruises, but nothing broken” he points to your body on the x ray monitor.

“Thanks Duck” Gibbs says picking you up off the table.

“My pleasure, Jethro, (y/n)” Ducky nodded towards you. You smiled and nodded back. “Though, Jethro, make sure she drinks plenty of water and no… physical activity, if you know what I mean. Heavy breathing will put too much strain on her”

“Heard that Jetty? no physical activity” you say cheekily. “Guess I get to miss work for a few days”

“Yeah, yeah” he kisses you. “Shut up”

“Night Duck” you say as Gibbs carries you out.

You arrived back at home. Your boyfriend made you a comfy spot in bed. Leaving the TV remote by your side, with a few cans of soda and a giant bottle of water. He pulled into a gentle but caring hug.

“Thank you Jet”

[shadowsndaisies]

introducing gadget

a/n: a purely self-indulgent ncis x top gun crossover for those of you who might exist in this niche with me. pay no attention to how the timeline makes any sense, please and thank you.

main masterlist

cross over masterlist

synopsis: meet gadget, lieutenant commander in the united states navy, and skilled naval aviator. gadget's been around the block though, her grandfather, mike franks, was NIS after all.

the death of mike franks - (aka the idea that started this) p2p killer's on the loose, and you're stationed across the country when you get the call. [6.20.25]

db on the carrier - when there's something strange in your carrier... who ya gonna call? ghostbusters the gunny [COMING SOON]

[certifiedducky]

Bunnyx spent a lot of time lying on her back in the burrow, hands behind her head, looking straight ahead. She would say “lying on the floor” or “staring at the ceiling”, but the infinite sameness surrounding her made it hard to tell up from down. The first few days in the burrow were really hard, the lack of direction gave her vertigo so bad that she was violently ill a lot of the time. It was discouraging, because she tended to pride herself on her grit. 

Of course, what she really wanted to do was skip the waiting and jump through to the future, when it would be safe for her miraculous to be active. She tried it once, but was quickly turned away. Older Bunnyx had explained that she’d need to grow up with the rest of her friends, and that she should avoid any rabbit holes that led too far into the future. 

“No spoilers, mini-me.” She’d said, ruffling her hair. 

Easy for her to say. She’d already finished the torturously lonely growing. 

The first few months weren’t too bad. After all, she really didn’t need to stay in the burrow. She had all of history to explore. And there were a lot of places that were on her bucket list, the house she grew up in was practically a history museum, but she wasn’t supposed to directly interact with any of the important stuff. Plus, being away for too many days at a time made her homesick. She spent more time than she’d ever admit watching her friends and family through the rabbit holes with a horrible ache in her chest.

And while Older-Bunnyx and Granny-Bunnyx would visit her sporadically to play overly complicated board games(they never let her win), they had their own lives outside of the burrow to attend to. And they wouldn’t even tell her about it. 

“No spoilers, Mini-me.” They’d say before leaving to their respective places in the timeline. 

She’d thought her freedom was on the horizon when Bug Noire marched into Monarch’s lair. Bunnyx had sat cross-legged in front of a rabbit hole, heart in her throat the whole time. She remembered the crushing disappointed that filled her when Bug Noire lost the butterfly miraculous again. Ultimate blunder wasn’t a strong enough description. It took everything in her not to lash out when she needed to help Ladybug reverse the wish made by the new holder.

Bunnyx missed her friends. A lot. As the months stretched into years, she tracked her growth by watching them age together. She’d join them occasionally, but it always made Marinette so anxious that she felt guilty staying for too long. So she mostly just watched them from the burrow, helping out whenever they needed her. Exploring history so she could leave them letters. She couldn’t let them know how lonely she was.

[fluffyfantasticducky]

Reasons to Like You

☆ Pairing: Loki x Reader ☆ Synopsis: Loki isn't the most laid back person, he is hard on others but mostly on himself... That is, until someone even worse than he is catches his little heart. ☆ Word Count: 3,313... sorry it's a bit short, huh? ☆ Notes: Another request for the lovely @blehblahsworld. Loki is shy ler, mutual pining idiots. I promised it'd be posted today and there's still like 30 minutes left of the day so I honoured my promise. ☆ Warnings: None, I think. Loki is a mess cuz he can't handle having a crush.

Oh, the comfort of a life on Earth. Not something any Asgardian would have expected when they arrived after all they had been through. Much less… this Asgardian.

Loki expected anything but bliss when he came to live among the Avengers. When he woke up living in the house of his enemies, he was rightfully on edge. Although Thor quickly wrapped his arms around him and filled him in. He had been saved after 5 years of becoming dust during the snap of the 5 infinity stones, which ironically spared his life.

But after his physical recovery and adaptation period with living in the compound… And there was a little someone who made the whole process much easier. A special little someone.

You were… Norns, where could he start? You were… a lot. In the best and worst sense of the word.

On one hand, you were messy, energetic, loud… just a smaller and slightly less annoying version of his brother. In fact, you two were great friends, much to Loki’s dismay. Loud nights of karaoke and dancing in the leisure room, begging for Tony to organize parties that would give Loki a headache. You constantly interrupted Loki’s reading to come chat or beg him to play together to some nonsense game or watch a movie. The amount of times you’d invade his personal space with hugs, pokes, grabbing his arm to take him somewhere… it was all unnerving.

On the other hand, and even worse than all he mentioned, Loki couldn’t get you out of his head. Your loudness, your playfulness, that smile of yours, your goofy laugh so out of place when you got nervous, the way he wanted to run his hands along your body… ah! It was too much!

And it wasn’t that Loki hadn’t been interested on others before. He had had more lovers than the average human lifespan. So why were you so difficult to handle? What was so special about you that he’d be turning in his bed late at night thinking about you? He couldn’t quite put it into words.

“Loki? Brother?” a voice snapped him out of his thoughts, along with a gentle knock on the door. “It’s late, are you not having breakfast with us?”

Loki stood up and opened the door to join his brother in the hall.

“I apologize brother, I must have lost track of time.” Loki shrugged it off as he ran his hands through his hair to fix it.

“No kidding,” Thor chuckled. “Look at you, when was the last time you slept?”

“Oh, like you would be one to judge me” Loki scoffed. “When did you all go to bed last night?”

“Not as early as you, old witch” Thor laughed. “It’s a shame you didn’t stay longer, our little friend was really upset you didn’t dance together.”

Loki had to fight an ear-to-ear grin. You had been looking for him? To dance… together? The way you all dance in Midgard these days? Oh gods, the one night his patience had run thin and made him excuse himself to go to bed.

It was still engrained in his brain.

You had jumped onto a coffee table, shaking your hips to the beat of the music, your body moving in perfect sync to the melody. And to be perfectly fair, it wasn’t anything outrageous to Earth’s standards, you were mostly goofing around and more often than not you’d double over laughing, flustered at your own antics. Unfortunately for his heart, Loki wasn’t from Earth, and he was not at all accustomed to those sights that kept him awake all night.

“I apologize for my unfortunate coordination with the mortal’s plans” Loki responded simply, despite mentally cursing himself.

Thor chuckled.

“I’m sure it will all be forgiven by the end of the week” he assured Loki. “You may get another chance to dance together.”

“What? Again? Don’t mortals tire out faster than us?” Loki asked. “How is it that there’s always some new event approaching?”

“It sure is lively around here, isn’t it?” Thor laughed. “Stark said it was a last-minute invitation, but Rogers mentioned it’d be important for us to assist, improving the opinion of the locals. Which you could still benefit from…”

“I suppose” Loki muttered. “Still… I hope it’s the last one in a while, it can get frustrating having to put up a perfection facade…”

“You are being dramatic brother.” Thor laughed.

“Am I?” Loki asked sarcastically. “Does it really not remind you the the banquets at the palace, always having to make political relationships by…”

“Oh brother, you are being dramatic. You really shouldn’t overthink all you do, if you think like that of course you won’t enjoy these silly Midgardian parties, for me, it reminds me of that tavern we used to go when we were younger. A chance to dance and perhaps flirt around every night with some nice ale and good friends.”

“Flirt around?” Loki chuckled at the Midgardian expression. “Don’t let Lady Jane hear you, brother. I thought you imprudent, but never to such an extent.”

“Oh, no, no.” Thor shook his head. “Those days are behind me, I am quite content in my relationship. I meant for you, brother.”

“Why would I want to flirt around?” Loki raised an eyebrow.

“Well, it is true you already have your interest captured by a local…”

“I have no clue what you’re blabbering on about, brother” Loki assured him. “And for your information, I am perfectly content the way my life is right now.”

Thor burst out laughing.

“That is splendid news brother” he chuckled, wiping a tear of mirth. “But I’ve been by your side since you were a small baby, I know when you’re interesting in someone.”

“You’ve never seen me interested in anyone” Loki retorted.

“Sure I have.” Thor chuckle. “Beyond the romances that lasted a single night, let’s see… You saw Angrboda for a while but it ended in nothing, you had a crush on Sygin for while but she was with Theoric which you tried impersonating but guilt ate you up, I recall you and Sif saw each other secretly when…”

“Alright, I got it!” Loki cut him off, not exactly eager to hear all his past romantic miseries all over again. “You are aware of my past, understood.”

Loki was a bit surprised, though. He always thought he was being discrete. Unlike Thor, who would shamelessly (and rather loudly) flirt in the tavern or at royal parties with whoever he wanted; Loki had an infinitely more subtle approach. Loki would strike conversations with his interest, in a much more subtle seduction. Loki was more the type to swoon with his wit and the perfect praise, taking advantage of being the less favored prince in terms of affection to escape into the night to seal the deal. He was so sure no one noticed his absence, much less Thor, who Loki thought too busy being the center of attention to care if Loki left the party early. Especially Sif, which was a whole new ordeal he didn’t even want to talk about.

He was a bit moved, really… in a very weird way, but it was moving.

“See? I know who you have a crush on” Thor chuckled. “You should really go for it.”

“Can you stop talking like a Midgardian?” Loki groaned. “It’s unnerving.”

“Sorry brother, it’s entertaining to see how much it frustrates you.” Thor grinned like a cheeky brat. “But I mean it, you won’t know if your feelings are reciprocated if you don’t ask.”

“Alright, alright.” Loki scoffed out a laugh. “Can’t believe I’m taking advice from you imbecile.”

“I would be offended, but I know the satisfaction of seeing you frustrated over being the idiotic one is more than enough.” Thor smiled and turned around.

“Weren’t you gonna have breakfast?” Loki asked.

“I already did” Thor smiled. “But I know of someone who will be happy to have some company during breakfast.”

Loki felt his heartbeat accelerating as he turned around the corner and saw you, finishing a sandwich and grabbing a mug of coffee. Your hair was messy, the pajamas you were wearing were a couple of sizes bigger than your frame and your eyes were half closed.

It was adorable.

“Good morning” Loki bowed his head politely.

“Mo—” you were cut off by a huge yawn. “Morning, Loki. Slept well? You left the party earlier last night.”

“I’m terribly sorry” Loki apologized timidly. “I didn’t feel well.”

“It’s okay…” you smiled at him and took a sip of your coffee, and Loki felt the energy from the coffee. “It wasn’t as fun once you left.”

Loki’s breath hitched and smiled nervously at you. He looked around, unsure if he was allowed to look at you more than a few glances every so often. But he caught the sight of you making a sandwich.

“I’m gonna eat breakfast on the loungeroom, wanna join me?” you offered with two more slices at bread for him.

“A-Ah, sure…” Loki nodded.

You made him a sandwich and served him a mug of coffee. Loki smiled at you and bowed his head gently at you in a thank you.

Both of you walked to eat by the TV. You handed him the remote control for him to choose. He gulped and looked at the screen, he swore his hand was shaking like a Chihuahua. He had no idea how to use modern technology… or well… not day to day technology.

Spaceships? Sure. Hacking the security of a overly complex computers? Piece of cake. But using his own cellphone or browsing the internet and a smart TV? Oh, honey…

And then he heard you giggle.

“What?” Loki asked, unable to fight a nervous smile.

“Oh nothing” you giggled. “Nothing…”

“No, what? Tell me…” he chuckled and scooted closer to you.

“N-No, nothing…!” you giggled nervously.

Now, smitten or not, mockery was something he would never tolerate unpunished… not fully anyway.

“Oh, you’ll regret that” he growled and before you could ask, straddled you, wiggling his fingers at you.

“E-Eh?” the way you smiled was tense, but also skeptic, like you didn’t believe what was clearly about to happen.

Before you asked, his fingers shot to your sides, poking and prodding the sensitive skin, immediately making you squeal.

“Lohohohoki! Whahahat are you doing?!” you protested.

“You asked for it, you menace.” Loki chuckled, drilling his index fingers to your sides, still careful enough to avoid hurting you.

“Lohohohohoki! I’m sorry!” you whined, sounding more lost than actually apologetic.

Loki made his distaste for your actions clear by tickling you mercilessly. But it was clear you weren’t sure what you were apologizing for, and it still sounded honest.

Seriously, it should be considered foul play being endearing like that.

“I can’t go around letting cheeky mortals like you think they can disrespect the God of Mischief without consequence.” Loki spoke in a low, teasing tone.

He let it slide the fact that anyone else would’ve ended with a dagger on their gut or at least an insult so vile that would have made them storm out of the room. But it’s not like Loki was going to notify you over the little soft spot he had for you… although, to balance things out, it was easier for you to provoke him into this sort of silly “punishments”.

“Whahahahahat did Ihihi dohohohohoho?!” you complained, your hands latching to his wrists in a weak attempt to push him away.

“I saw you laughing at me, so by simply logic, I had to give you something to really laugh about.” He growled maliciously as his fingers continued their malicious dance along your skin.

Loki was skilled with his hands and fingers, double entendere aside. Being a sorcerer required precision of mind and hand movement, given a wrong angle could make a vanishing spell burn your eyebrows instead. As a proper prince, he was skilled with the quill and had a neat and elegant handwriting as well as an at least decent skill with the flute, the lute and the piano. Which Loki loved to clarify that by “proper prince”, he actually meant “not Thor” whose handwriting was a illegible and could only play percussions like a toddler… But he was a stronger fighter, Loki could give him that.

But it also meant he was a deadly tickler. Being perceptive and cunning like a good trickster didn’t really help your cause either.

He raised upwards, giving you a sort of break, reducing the intensity of the tickling. But his hand soon lowered ceremoniously back to make deadly contact with your skin again. This time gently wiggling behind your earshell.

“EEK! W-What are you doing?” your shoulders shut up, before your hands reached to cover your ears with your hands.

“Mmm, it was just a little test.” Loki hummed. “And I must say, I’m more than pleased with the result.”

Loki chuckled and his hands went to your sides, squeezing and kneading your ribs like dough.

“AIEE!” you squeaked and your arms went down to protect your sides. “Loki!”

Loki smiled menacingly and decided a new course of action.

He tickled your sides for a couple of seconds, before going back to tickle your ears so you’d raise your arms to protect them, just to go back to your sides after a bit.

“Hahahahahaha! L-Loki! P-Please! Hahahahahahaha! S-Stop it! Hehehehe! Hahahahaha!”

The pokes and tickly caresses went all over your skin, making you squeal and screech. But there was nothing you could do against someone stronger than you.

“Lohohohoki!” your hips wiggled from side to side in a helpless giggle fit.

But just when you thought it couldn’t get worse…

“EEEEEEEK!” you screeched when you felt Loki’s hands sneaking under your armpits, it was so loud and high pitched that Loki was startled.

“Oh, my my my…” he grinned mischievously. “What was that?”

“N-No… Loki! L-Loki…!” you pleased your hands before you, trying to protect yourself. “Loki! LOKI! LOHOHOHOHOHOHOKI!”

You didn’t have to be a detective to figure out that Loki, being the cheekiest of souls, would take advantage of this new tickle spot.

“NOHOHOHOHOHO! NO LOHOHOHOHOKI! PLEHEHEHEASE! HAHAHAHAHA! NAHAHAHA!” you squealed and squirmed like a fish out of water. “LOKI! LOHOHOHOKI! PLEAHAHAHAHASE!”

His fingers traced along your armpits, he was excited like a little kid finding the secret hiding place of the birthday presents. You were going crazy. He couldn’t stop himself, gently caressing and scratching the sensitive skin on your underarms to make you squeal until your face was bright red and your eyes were glistening with tears of mirth.

“PLEASE! AHAHAHAHA! OW! PLEASE! HAHAHAHA!” you guffawed and kicked your legs around as if that somehow would ease up the tickly sensations. But your sides were burning from laughing and it wasn’t pleasant. “OW! P-PLEASE! HEHEHEHE!”

“Oh, alright…” he smiled softly and retreated his hands from you.

Your chest was heaving from laughter and giggles were hoarse and tired. You wiped the tears off your face placed your hand on your chest to feel your own accelerated heartbeat.

“Hahahaha…!” you giggled and panted, trying to control yourself from the aftermath of tickly giggles. “Alright… I had that coming… I- I guess. Hehehe…”

“Oh gods, I adore you…” Loki blurted out, freezing at the weight the honesty of his words carried.

Simply because that was him. He was a deceiver, a conniver, a scammer, a trickster. But now? Truth had poured out of his mouth like a waterfall, cold and refreshing… He loved you. He had been lying to himself for so long that once he said it out loud, to you no less, it felt good, more than good.

“What?” you asked.

“I love you” he repeated.

But the look on your face made his stomach sink. You looked horrified.

“…why me?” you asked.

“What do you mean?” he asked, already feeling the crushing weight of rejection weighing him down.

“What do you think I mean?” you grumbled.

Of course you wouldn’t like him. You were the sunshine incarnate, you were kind and friendly, you were smart enough to crush down any silly preconception of human life being dull and silly like it had been thin and cheap glass, to the point of him feeling like the fool. You had brought him down to his knees. You had a power of a goddess.

No way you would reciprocate his feelings.

“What could you see in me…?” you smiled, but your eyes revealed distress. “I- Loki… look at me!”

Loki blinked at you, speechless. Which unknowingly giving you a window to keep talking.

“I’m everything that annoys you. I like going dancing, I like singing and being loud. I hate being around people but being alone stresses me out.” You huffed out. “Loki… I’m…”

“Perfect.” Loki finished for you, breathless.

“A nuisance.” You corrected him. “Loki, you’ll get tired of me by the end of the week.”

Loki felt angry, how could you speak so ill of yourself? You are a balm in chaotic world. And you hated every bit of yourself, every sweet and lovable inch of yourself. It was a self-hatred he knew very well. One type of felt hatred he lived with every day.

And he knew often there was only one way to help.

He pulled you against his chest and jabbed your sides.

“EEEEEK!” you screeched. “L-LOKI?! What are you doing?!”

“Mm, just helping your thoughts shut up…” Loki smiled cheekily as his fingers danced along your armpits once more.

“AIIIIEEEEE! LOKIHIHIHIHIHI!” you squealed.

“Yes, my darling?” he purred.

“S-STOP IT!” you cried. “HAHAHAHAHA! NOHOHO! WHY?!”

“I’m merely providing a pleasant distracting you from those nasty thoughts of yours” he said in a faux innocent tone.

“PLEHEHEHEHASANT?!” you whined between your loud laughter.

Loki nodded but agreed that maybe it wasn’t the nicest thing to do going for the spot that made you nearly burn out your lungs. So, being the angel he was, he moved down to tickle your belly giving you a break… sort of.

“Lohohohoki! Hehehehe! Hahahahaha! Oh my gohohohod!”

Loki chuckled at your laugher, that, in his defense, came down an octave after moving to a less deadly spot. But your rich giggles kept pouring out like a waterfall, fresh and healing to him.

His finger gently tickled around your waist line, which made you squeak and giggle in a high pitch.

“EEK! Heeheeheehee! EEP! Heeheeheehee!”

“Norns…” Loki complained quietly.

“Lohohohohoki!” you giggled when his fingers pinched around your navel. “P-Plehehehease, n-no more…! Hahahaha!”

“Oh, alright” he smiled lovingly at you.

As he saw you trying to catch your breath again, the loud drumming of his own heartbeat became overwhelming. Oh, how helpless he was… Yes, he had been the one tickling you silly. But, truthfully, he was the one at your mercy here.

“Hehehehe… ohh… hic! Hehehehe! Hic! Hehehehe!” you giggled. “T-That w-was hmph!”

Loki could take it anymore, he had pressed his lips against yours, a bit panicked at first… Did he read the room wrong? Did you not like him like thaaaaat…

Feeling you kiss back was… in a single word: mind-blowing. On one hand, it melted away all his fears, all the tension, all the mess he had been since his heart fell on his knees at your mercy… just undone… like the most powerful magic he could do. On the other hand, kissing you was like a dream, you were sweet, passionate, loving. Although he’d never admit it, he got a little flutter on his stomach thinking maybe… just maybe, you had liked him back all along.

“Ah… heh… um…”  you looked at him nervously. “D-Do you think maybe… would you like to come to the party with me? You know… t-together… officially…”

Loki smiled fondly and leaned in for another kiss.

“I would be honored, dear.”

Masterpost

[pftones3482]

Singlehandedly one of my favorite individual sentences I've written in the 10k I've cranked out the last three days

[pahtoosh]

Hi hi hi, hello, you were one of the first people I thought to tell about this so, I have DID and sometimes the Little part of the braincase has dreams when I sleep, and he recently had (in his definition) the best dream EVER where he was adopted by Steve and Bucky and they went grocery shopping, and he was having the best day ever cuz he specifically saw a bag of his favorite chocolate and ran over to Bucky and holding it up like "DADDY DADDY DADDY, PLEASE???"

And then Bucky picked him up with the chocolate and set him in the cart while Steve just smiled about it all. The Little One was so excited!!

– same anon who talked about your stucky fics being my favorite thing ever when smol and my therapist actively recommended listening to the Little One more 🦖 (I might sign off on things with the dino if that's okay)

Baby's First Racecar

image id: a gif of sebastian stan holding his hands out to hold someone. /end id

masterlist

18+

wc: ~700 words

warnings: named stuffed animal, bucky picks you up

a/n: THIS IS SO ADORABLE!!! thank you so much for telling me🥺 i was working on a totally different piece, but this was too cute and i knew i had to see this idea to the end!! i hope The Little One likes racecars hehe. also.. you guys will just have to imagine the "racecar" because none of the pictures on google matched the one in my brain 💔

pairing: stucky x gn!little!reader

summary: you go to the grocery store with your daddies

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡

Steve turned to look at you in the backseat with an adoring smile on his face. You looked too cute all buckled up, absentmindedly toying with your dino plush’s tail. You and your green friend came as a package deal these days. Steve loved it to the point where he took his sewing kit out of storage and set to remembering all the skills his Ma taught him, so that he could make some clothes for your favorite little sidekick. Today, he was dressed in overalls: a very practical outfit for your trip to the grocery store. 

“Are you and Ducky going to help me figure out what to make for dinner tonight?” he asked.

You nodded enthusiastically. 

Once the car was parked, Bucky helped you out of your car seat while Steve retrieved the reusable grocery bags. Your baba carried you into the store, as this was a busy parking lot and he felt safer having you in his or Steve’s arms. You had originally planned on walking through the store instead of sitting in a shopping cart, but that changed when you saw the cart that looked like a racecar. It functioned like a normal shopping cart, but it had been upgraded with an outer shell of plastic that almost made it resemble Lightning McQueen. A steering wheel placed in the front and flame decals on the sides completed the illusion. 

Bucky didn’t even have to ask if you wanted to ride in it. He smiled at your excited gasp and awestruck gaze. Never wanting to miss a chance to indulge you, he made a beeline for the novel vehicle. He gently set you inside, kissing the top of your head before he rounded the back of the false car and pushed it into the store.

“Baba, Dada, look!” 

You showed them the steering wheel. It actually spun around just like the real thing! You couldn’t actually control the cart with it, but you didn’t mind. It was way more fun to practice crazy drifts than to slowly navigate the narrow aisles of the grocery store. 

Steve leaned over, demonstrating the functional horn on the steering wheel. It was more like a muffled squeak toy, which was all the better for you because you could keep ‘honking the horn’ without drawing attention from the other customers. Ducky liked honking the horn too, but as always, your dinosaur was more comfortable resting on your lap. 

You had a blast “racing” through the grocery store. Bucky played along, making some of the turns into new aisles more dramatic than they needed to be. Steve too joined in on the fun. He played the role of drive through employee while asking for your opinion on foods. 

Your Dada mimicked talking into a headset with a silly voice. “Hi, welcome to Rogers’ Kitchen. Can I put you down for a bag of grapes or apples?”

“Apples!” you exclaimed, clapping your hands. 

“Second window, that’ll be one kiss.”

He set the fruit down behind you and held his cheek out expectantly. You giggled, giving him a sloppy peck before “driving” away. 

Your dada also became your pit crew when a turn into the snack aisle caused a few small items to slip through the grates of the shopping cart. 

While Steve excused himself to find your favorite crackers, Bucky noticed how untidy the cart had gotten and decided to fix the mess.

“Hang on, baby. Baba’s gonna take you out so I can move some things.” 

Bucky plucked you out of the cart, setting you down so he could make your chariot more organized and comfortable. While you stood in the aisle, a package of your favorite candy called out to you. You grabbed the bag with the hand that wasn’t holding Ducky and toddled back to your caregiver. 

“Baba! Baba look!” you shouted excitedly, holding the treats aloft. 

“Wow! Those sure look good,” he grinned.

“Can I get them, Baba? Please!”

Bucky pretended to think about it for a moment, then all of a sudden he was lifting you, Ducky, and the bag of chocolates into the cart. You giggled like mad the entire time, complementing Steve’s chuckles as he witnessed the interaction.

[anarchyduck]

“Nobody’s seen you in days."

Ventus feels the tension coiling as Terra sits down beside him. It’s wrapped with guilt, with shame, with a need to run away. He keeps his eyes forward on the mountains and cliffs of Departure. His heart sits heavy in his chest. His skin itches.

Terra waits for him to speak. He sits beside him patiently, so much more patient than Ventus remembers him being. Or maybe he was always like that. Wouldn’t be the first time he’s forgotten something.

“I needed to get away for a while.” Ventus says finally. There’s flowers blooming on the side of the closest mountain. It’s all rock and stone except for the speck of green and purple that moves in the breeze. “Everything is just like we left it. Like… no time has passed at all.”

Pristine halls with polished floors that still shine. Too clean thrones in a too clean hall in a too clean castle. Ventus looks at his hands and wonders if the dirt beneath his nails is from the garden or the graveyard.

“It's all the same but we're not.”

[duck-at-midnight]

Inner Turmoil

Summary: Tara has dreams often, and occasionally, her dreams turn to nightmares.

Tags: Little Tara, Gale comforting Tara, Gale adopted Sam and Tara

Sunlight cut through the curtains of Tara’s bedroom and shined on the two figures in the bed. The smaller of the two laid on her stomach with a thumb securely in her mouth, remaining as close as possible to her bedmate. The two had stayed up until the early hours of the morning watching scary movies and passing a tequila bottle back and forth. 

The older of the two with eyes still closed began to hear giggling followed by the sound of a picture being taken. Brown eyes snapped open to see Amber’s phone in front of her. 

Ripping her thumb out of her mouth, she moved to rub her eyes. “What are you doing?”

”Do you always suck your thumb like a baby?” Amber teased with a laugh.

”What?” Tara attempted to play off confusion. 

“You had your thumb in your mouth.” Amber continues in a higher voice. “Just like a little baby.” 

Tara shrugged. “It must’ve just been something that happened in my sleep.” 

“Yeah, sure, just happen to suck your thumb like you’re two.” 

“Can you shut up about it?” Tara begged.

Amber smirked. “Or what? Are you going to tell your mommy?” 

“Fuck off.” 

“That’s no way for a little baby to talk.”

”Seriously, stop.” Tara said frustrated before getting out of bed. “I don’t know why I was sucking my thumb, ok?”

Amber raised her eyebrows. “I know why.” She paused. “It’s because Tara just wants her mommy and daddy like a little baby would. Are you a little baby, Tara?” 

Tara felt her eyes watering as she clenched her jaw. “No, I’m not!”

“Aw, is the poor little baby going to cry?” Amber continued her teasing ignoring the tears in her girlfriend’s eyes. “You want your mommy?” Amber’s eyes suddenly widened. “Are you pissing yourself? Oh my god, you are! I thought you were potty trained!”

Brown eyes widened in fear as she looked down, noticing the dark spot on her shorts. “I-I-” Tara started stuttering looking frantically around the room. 

Another sound of a camera came from Amber’s phone. “Can’t wait to show Mindy how much of a crying baby you are.” 

“Amber, stop!” Tara begged.

“Why don’t you cry to your mommy about it?” 

“Stop, please.” The smaller girl’s voice broke as the tears streamed down her face. She lowered to her knees in defeat, sobbing. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, Tara.” The voice morphed into the terrorizing one that sent shivers up the girl’s spine. Looking up to see the mask of Ghostface staring down at her. The world around her turning dark as the windows no longer showed shining sunlight, but the darkness of the night. 

She let out a scream as she started backing away from the killer. 

“Let me put you out of your misery.” 

“Get away from me!” Ghostface grabbed her foot and pulled her back. She remembered her first encounter playing out very similarly. “Let me go!”

With Amber’s and Ghostface’s voice both coming out together, “Let me tuck you in.” The knife raising up high above making fear rise further in Tara.

She screamed as she shot up in her bed at the New York apartment. Not even a minute later, Sam rushed in and pulled her into a hug. 

“It’s ok, I got you. Are you ok?” Her older sister asked, checking everywhere on her. 

The familiar feeling was present but Tara pushed it back remembering Amber’s words from her dream. She felt like she couldn't speak but refused to let her little side take over. 

“Am-Amber.” 

“Ghostface related?”

“Ki-Kind of.” 

Sam held her closer. “I got you, kid.” She kissed the top of her sister's head. “We can wash your sheets and you can sleep in my bed.” 

The words rushed over Tara again before she pushed Sam away. “It's fine. I can take care of it.” 

Sam was taken aback. “You ok? You want to talk about it?” 

“I'm fine. You can go back to bed. I'm not a baby, Sam.” 

Still in shock. “It’s ok, Tara. We’re a team, we got this.” She made a move to pick up Tara to strip the bed. 

Pulling away angrily before snapping. “Go back to bed!” She felt eyes starting to get wet, begging silently for Sam to leave her alone. 

“Ok.” Sam backed away slowly, giving in. Before leaving, she paused at the door. “If you need anything, I’m in my room.” 

Finally alone, Tara fought off the remnants of her foggy mind before pulling her wet sheets off. She carried them to the other dirty clothes, noticing her spare set was still waiting to be washed. Dropping the dirty bedding before stripping her night clothes letting them fall next to the soiled bedding with a sigh. 

Taking a quick shower to wash the urine off, then putting on some fresh clothes. She went to the living room. The couch became inviting as she grabbed a blanket. 

Before she knew it, she was asleep once again. 

Hours later, the sun was bleeding through the windows. If she had to guess, Sam was long gone to work. Tara sat up and stretched in the assumed empty apartment.

Then a crash of coffee mugs followed by a fuck came from the kitchen. 

The air in the girl’s lungs left suddenly. She looked at the door. She could run to Danny’s. Hopefully he was home and could come take care of an intruder. Or, she could call Kirby, but her phone was still in her room from last night. 

“Oh shit, did I wake you?” Gale called from the kitchen walkway. 

Tara felt herself deflate slightly, Amber would have ridiculed her. An intruder would have gotten her by now. ”No, I woke up on my own.” 

“Good, good.” She said before coming to sit on the couch with Tara, sipping on her fresh coffee. “How you doing, kid?” 

“Did Sam ask you to watch me?”

”She was worried about you.” Gale paused. “But between me and you, how are you?”

”I’m fine.” 

The older woman gave her a look. “You look haunted. Not that Sam doesn’t, but you’re looking a bit more today.” 

“It’s nothing.”

“I’m not going to force you to open up, but you know Sam is going to be all over you when you get back.” Gale stated. It was true, Sam was at work trying to figure out how to get Tara to talk to her.

After a brief silence. “I’m having dreams about Amber.”

”What about Amber?”

Another long pause. “Before she, you know, I fell asleep at her house and when I woke up, she noticed that I was sucking my thumb.” Another pause. “But in my dream her teasing goes further than a few comments to call me a baby. Then she starts turning into… him, and just taunts me. Finally, she tells me that she’ll end my suffering but I wake up.”

”How long have you been having these dreams?” Gale asked, keeping her focus on the smaller girl.

“Not often, just last night ended up being one of those dreams.” Tara said before leaning over to cuddle with Gale. 

She accepted the girl cuddling, throwing one arm around the girl protectively. Turned on the TV to provide some background noise for the two. “It’s ok, kid.” Noticing the thumb starting to rise to her mouth. “There’s plenty of people around you who love you for who you are. I got you.”

After a few minutes of silence, Gale raised her head up to look at the girl. “Can we put a pull up on you before you drop?”

Narrowing eyes made Gale’s stomach drop. It was too late. Tara was already in her little space. 

“Damn it.”

[giggly-squiggily]

Hey hey just a friendly PSA that you CAN and are ENCOURAGED to use up all five of your candy heart prompts if desired! I love all the various pairings and scenarios y'all send in, so when I see someone start off their prompt with "Is it okay if I send in another?" or "Can I be greedy?" I wanna grab you by the shoulders, lean in reeeealll close and go:

So yeah! :D In the words of our Lord and savior Gojo Satoru- "Be greedy." <3

That is all- Happy Tuesday everyone!

[duckie-deer-prompts]

Duckie Deer Prompt #36

Alphabet Prompt #13: Mount

Lucifer: If you push this further, I'm going to—

Alastor: To what, hmm? Please, enlighten me, your highness.

Lucifer: I'm gonna treat you like the goddamn animal you are! I'm going to choke you, impale you, mess up your guts, mount you and leave what's left of you fastened to my wall to display the sloppy, disgusting mess I made of you for all of Hell to see!!!

Lucifer: *stomps off*

Alastor: *smug smirk*

Rosie: ...well, damn. His highness is more forward than I thought.

Alastor: Oh, please. He couldn't follow through on that threat.

Rosie: Al, honey. He could follow up on both versions of that threat.

Alastor: Both??

[macfrog]

so torn but i need a little 🩵

feel free to send more than one, baby! here all week 🫶🏼

meeting joel 1.3k words | duckie's baby shower 🩵

“fucking – shit…”

the truck squeals around the corner – the same goddamn corner it squealed around five minutes ago. you pass that same lime green mailbox, those same kids drawing farm animals on the sidewalk.

jesus christ, just admit it. you’re lost.

you did visit the place – though, only the once. and that was a couple months ago, now. you didn’t put a lot of effort into memorizing each street in the fucking neighborhood. did the houses look this similar, the day that you viewed it?

you’re sure you’re circling the same rows of houses over and over; sure you recognize the wind chimes hanging from that porch. you take another left, and –

“for fuck’s sake,” you sigh, pulling in down the street from those same sidewalk chalk artists. their cow drawing has a smug smile on its face.

your eyes roll to the right, and there it is. you probably passed it three times over.

it’s humble, quaint. pretty white wood, a wide-open porch. still some budding flowers left in planters by the door. you blink from the bay window to the numbers nailed squint into the column.

it’s so…grown-up. it almost makes you shiver.

you hop down out of the truck into blazing sunlight, lifting a hand to shield your eyes. a lawnmower hums in the distance, the scent of fresh grass diced through the air. a sprinkler whirs a few houses down. the kids across the street giggle and split the yellow chalk in two.

on one side of your new home – a similarly polite house with a row of vibrant tulips leading up to it. reds and yellows and blushing pinks – clipped and groomed within an inch of their life, each one blooming and beautiful.

on the other – a man, stood in front of a blue house, watering his grass. he’s tall, lean. built wider the higher up his figure your eyes climb. tanned, toned arms and broad shoulders which tug at the white tee he’s wearing. a square jawline beneath a thick brown beard.

you catch his eye and lift your hand to wave.

he turns away, aiming the hose at the grass behind him.

“dick,” you whisper, slamming the door.

you jog around to the back of the truck, taking hold of the sunbaked handle. it chinks, but it doesn’t budge.

“c’mon…” you grit your teeth, rattling it again and again. “are you fucking kidding me?”

you step back, sneakers scuffing on the road, and prop your hands on your hips.

your new neighbor is still focusing intently on his grass, spewing a stream of water at the lighter patches. the longer you stare, the more grass he finds to wet.

fuck it.

“hey!”

he gives the hosepipe a jerk, shaking his free hand dry.

“excuse me?” you call, waving an arm.

the man looks up slowly, checking over his shoulder first. making damn sure there’s no one else he can pretend you’re talking to.

and unless you’re eliciting help from the fucking paw patrol across the street, he’s no escape.

“hey,” again, and then, “i’m new around – i’m moving in next door. i can’t get this stupid fucki–freakin’ door to lift. would you mind helping me? please?”

he twists the hose in his hands. you can’t tell if he’s squinting because of the sun, or actually glowering at you.

it feels like the latter, the way he throws the thing to the grass.

he stalks over, a little intimidating in his stride, eyeing you as he approaches. without a word, he wraps two big hands around the latch. he tugs once, and the door doesn’t move.

“see?” you ask, gesturing to the truck. “i bet it’s, like, older than me. might even be older than you, might…”

your neighbor pauses, eyes sliding to yours. his stare is intense – dark, stormy eyes boring into yours.

and this time – you know he’s glowering.

“it’s the heat,” he drawls, giving it another strong pull. his biceps swell, the tattered sleeves of his t-shirt stretching around them. “it’s just a little st–”

the door suddenly shunts, rolling upwards. a rickety noise until it slams at the top.

the paw patrol glance up at the sound, wrists paused. they resume doodling when your neighbor backs up.

“thank you,” you mutter, tugging on the hem of your shirt.

you push yourself up onto the back of the truck, standing amidst the fractured bones of your old apartment. a shadeless lamp here, a box of kitchen utensils there.

the guy takes half a glance at you and double takes, eyes scanning the sea of cardboard behind you. he looks you up and down and back up again – jaw tightening when he notices your hopeful expression.

“do you mind?” you ask, lifting one of the heavier boxes. “if you got somethin’ better to do…” you glance over to his yard, the hose lying in a swirl on the lawn, “…then i understand.”

he sighs, reaching for the box. his thick arms tense when the weight shifts from your grasp to his.

“thanks!” you deliberately chirp, watching his figure swagger off to your porch.

joel miller, as it turns out, is a man of few fucking words.

his name is the most you’ve been able to get out of him – and that’s only because it’s on his mailbox. he tells you nothing else.

up close, he’s graying. the lines of a decently-aged man on his skin – that, or just a miserable asshole (perhaps both). he has a syrupy southern drawl, each word riding a wave from his tongue – but with each answer he relents, he still manages to sound fucking miserable.

he seems like he might have his uses, though. he’s got some pretty good intel on the neighborhood.

“that,” he nods to the house directly across from yours, “is steve and kris’s place. they just had a baby. some nights, you can hear the kid from over here.”

“congrats,” you mutter, following his hand as it moves across the window.

“diane,” joel says. “she’s got a dog – the thing’s a little shit.”

your chin lifts. “diane, little shit,” you echo.

he nods, tongue in his cheek. he turns, hand flicking in the direction of the tulips. “alice,” he says. “let me tell you somethin’ – if there’s anything you want broadcast to every person, pet, and goddamn mailbox in the neighborhood, she’s the one to talk to.”

“nosy, huh?”

“nosy,” he agrees.

you snicker, leaning by him to glance at the swaying flowers. “but look what good care she takes of her tulips.”

“hm. ‘s all a front, you’ll see. she’s smart with it.”

joel helps you unload the rest of the truck, sliding each box across your living room floor. outside, he passes you the last couple, and then reaches up for the door.

his tee lifts ever so slightly – flashing a sliver of skin with a smatter of hair above his belt buckle. a dark trail diving into his jeans.

the sight sears itself behind your eyelids. you drag your gaze from him, bending to scoop up the lighter of the two boxes as he jumps back down. he follows at your heel towards your house again, dropping the last box right by your front door.

he says, “you need anythin’ else, just give me a holler,” but his dry tone – and the fact he’s already halfway out the door when he mumbles it – are enough to convince you that this motherfucker never wants to see your face again.

so – you skip after him, following him to your porch steps.

“nice,” you call, watching him thud down each one, “you any good with diy? i got a shit ton of ikea stuff to build.”

he turns, bottom lip between his teeth.

your eyebrows lift, heel kicking against the wooden step. “a – shit – ton,” you repeat.

joel scoffs, shaking his head. “better get to it, then.”

he wanders back over to his lawn.

[shadowsndaisies]

the death of mike franks

a/n: this was the idea that sparked the crossover when i was doing an ncis rewatch

main masterlist

introducing gadget masterlist

synopsis: p2p killer's on the loose, and you're stationed across the country when you get the call

wc: 1.1k

It’s not a call you wanted to ever receive.

“It’s.. uh, I just. I figured you’d want to know,” Tony’s voice trails.

“Know what Tony?” you ask, brow furrowed, he wasn’t making any sense.

The bar is loud behind you, it’s almost nine now, but the sun’s only just set and the whole squad was inside, everyone covered in salt and sand from the day spent at the beach. It had been a good day, but somehow, you knew the good was about to end.

“I’m really sorry,” he says again and your breath catches.

You’d met Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo during your station at Norfolk. You’d been sent there while on medical reserve. You worked on the Navy Yard, and when you think back, it’s probably because of your mom. She’d been close with a retired Marine Gunny turned Supervisory Special Agent in Charge, all because of your grandpa. The Gunny had a team there, and somehow, you’d gotten roped into spending some time with them while you recuperated. Physically able enough to be in the field, but not yet able to withstand sustained Gs. You’d enjoyed the stint, made friends with the team. You’d left NCIS better than you’d arrived, in more ways than one.

You’d bonded with Tony over pop culture references, and a quiet reverence for the Gunny. A new level to the respect you’d always had since you’d met him as a toddler.

“Tell me,” you force out.

Please don’t say it’s Gunny.

“It’s Franks,” he finally admits, and your knees go weak. “He’s dead, kid.”

“Oh shit, oh, fuck,” you huff out, trying to reign everything in.

That’s worse.

“Did anyone call my mom?” you ask, as your legs give out.

There’s a rolling wave of grief.

You grip tight to the railing as you try not to topple.

“Gibbs is calling her now,” he says quietly.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs had been in your life as long as you can remember. He’d filled the dad role often after your own had passed. You’d never really known him as a Gunny, but you did as Pop’s probie. You can’t imagine the silence that must’ve fallen over the NCIS building. But your thoughts are focused on Mike Franks. Your grandfather. There’d always been something about him, all old school, with his own sense of justice, too patriotic for his own good, it turned out. You hadn’t understood it then, but you saw how he changed after 9/11, and that was when you realized there was still so much to do. That was the reason you enlisted, he was.

You finally sit, as the grief rolls over you. You were not new to grief, you’d lived with it as a cloud almost your whole life, but this felt different. It wasn’t like when you’d lost your dad. You’d been too young, you think. All you really knew back then was you missed him, you were sad he was gone, disappointed that he’d never come home again.

You were okay though. You had your mom, you had pop, and you had Gibbs.

Gibbs who took you to the father daughter dance after pop got hurt on a case, and couldn’t take you like he’d promised. Gibbs who taught you how to drive manual when your mom decided she was not built to be the one to contend with you and the road. Makes sense, given you elected to pursue a career involving flying jets.

You’re struck with the realization that underneath the grief is an overwhelming sense of relief. It’s not Gunny, it’s not Tim, it’s not any of them. You want to puke as soon as you think it. Guilt gnawing at your insides. You loved your grandfather, but you’d been anticipating his death for a while now. So sure that all the cigarettes would finally catch up to him.

“Gadget?” His voice is strained, thank god it wasn’t Tony, either.

“Yeah,” you manage to choke out, from where you’re now sitting, one hand still grasping tight to the railing.

“It was the P2P,” and then there was anger.

“Son of a bitch,” you huff, and now there’s tears in your eyes. “He was supposed to be in Mexico,” you add on, because you’d just talked to him. “He was supposed to be done with this!”

You’d spoken with your grandfather just a few days ago, making plans to come down to Mexico when you had a short leave in a few weeks. You’d already booked your ticket.

“He only got here this morning, Gibbs called,” Tony adds on.

it goes quiet then. As if Tony’s not sure how to continue. and you become stuck in a contemplative silence.

…

“He picked my call sign,” you eventually say softly.

“What?” Tony asks, and you can imagine the frown.

“Pop, he.. uh… I loved cars, and taking things apart to learn how they worked. He was the one who called me inspector gadget as a kid. One of my instructors heard him call me Gadget during training on family weekend, and.. and then it was my official callsign.”

You don’t know why you’re telling him. You’d never told anybody that your grandfather was the one who coined Gadget, everyone who needed to know, did.

“I didn’t know that,” Tony admits, and you can hear the sad chuckle in his voice.

“I’ve never told anyone before,” you admit, sniffing.

“I’m really sorry, (y/n),” is all he offers.

You sniff and force yourself back to your feet. “Yeah,” you say in the absence of anything else. “Tell Gunny to call me when he can,” you decide.

“Yeah, but-” you don’t listen to the rest, ending the call.

You’re not sure how long you stayed like that, but it must’ve been too long because eventually someone came looking for you.

“Gadget?” it’s Hangman who calls your name. “You drink too much or something?” he muses coming closer.

It’s not until he can see your face that he realizes you’re crying, and the smirk is gone in a second. He drops down to be eye level and you continue to look past him and at the ocean.

“Gadget? Gadget, talk to me, what happened?” his voice had gone soft, one hand gently landing on your shoulder

“My grandfather’s dead,” you say, and god it hurts.

...

everything tags: @butterfly-skinnylegend

gadgets tags: @oikawasblueearbud @rory-cakes

[certifiedducky]

Reveal yourselves.

Marinette lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Her eyes burned, her mind was cloudy. 

I am Plagg, the Kwami of Destruction. I am everything that is and no longer will be

Her hands hurt, cuticles bleeding from picking at them. 

I am Tikki, the Kwami of Creation. I am everything that isn’t yet and is yet to be.

She tried closing her eyes. Blackened, rotting flesh. She opened her eyes.

I am Gimmi, the Kwami of Reality. I am everything that was, is, and will be. 

She left her bleeding nails alone, opting instead to twist the rose-gold ring around and around her finger. 

I just- I can’t live without her. 

Her body ached so badly, muscles stiff. Her heart was worn. She was exhausted from fighting and crying.

Marinette, make sure that Adrien never knows about the villain that I was. 

Tikki and Plagg both watched her with concern and pity. The rest of the kwamis were safely tucked in the drawer of her vanity. They knew. 

But instead, that he remembers the times I tried to be a good father.

Natalie was at the Agreste mansion. Kagami was in London with Felix. They knew. 

“Your… your father was…

She stopped spinning the ring and curled into the fetal position. Alya can’t know, she hates secrets.

…was…was a…

Nino can’t know, he hates Gabriel. And he would never lie to Adrien like that.

…a hero.

Chat. She could tell Chat. But… would he hate her? Did it matter?

Your father was a hero.

No. She couldn’t risk ruining Adrien’s life further.

I swear I tried everything.”

She tried closing her eyes again.